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FRAGMENT OF A LETTER.

When Glory doth the Hero's Bosom fire,
How sweet is Hope! how gay is young Desire!
Of all those Instincts which to Man are given,
Ambition seems the loudest Call of Heaven.
Indulge then, Friend, thy noble Thirst of Fame,
Nor let vain Fears thy gen'rous Ardour tame.


Who would live always dully on the Shore,
That might the Wonders of the Deep explore?
Down the strong Current let us swiftly glide;
Spread all our Sails, and aid the swelling Tide!
If Rocks appear, or sudden Tempests rise,
With Pilot Reason gravely we'll advise;
By her Directions steer the doubtful Course;
Here use our Skill, or there employ our Force.
Yet ne'er Despair, though every Planet lour,
But trust to Fortune for some smiling Hour.
Each bold Advent'rer will a Season find
When that Coy Mistress of the World is Kind.
The faint Addresses of the Bashful fail,
But the Home-pusher always will prevail.
Thus, oft repuls'd, a Youth who long had born
With humble Awe his haughty Fair-One's Scorn,


At length with Lust and Indignation fir'd,
Resolv'd to gain by Force what He desir'd;
And rushing on with Fury to her Arms,
In wild Disorder rifled all her Charms.
The Nymph was pleas'd; the Lover was restor'd;
And from her Slave in time became her Lord.