good to be implacable; and on my begging her pardon, and protesting it was not a wilful rudeness, but the magic of her glorious eyes, and the bright powers of her mind, that had tranfported me befide myself, fhe was reconciled, and afked me, if I would play a game of cards? With delight I replied, and immediately a pack was brought in. We fat down to cribbage, and had played a few games, when by accident Mifs Noel faw the head of my german flute, which I always brought out with me in my walks, and carried in a long pocket within fide my coat. You play, Sir, I fuppofe, on that inftrument, this lady faid; and as of all forts of music this pleases me moft, I request you will oblige me with any thing you pleafe. In a moment, I answered; and taking from my pocket-book the following lines, I reached them to her, and told her I had the day before fet them to one of Lulli's airs, and inftantly began to breathe the fofteft harmony I could make

A SON G.

1.

Lmighty love's refiftlefs

rage,

No force can quell, no art affwage:
While wit and beauty both confpire,
To kindle in my breaft the fire:

F 4

The

The matchless shape, the charming grace,
The eafy air, and blooming face,

Each charm that does in Flavia fhine,
To keep my captive heart combine.

II.

I feel, I feel the raging fire!
And my foul burns with fierce defire!
Thy freedom, Reason, I difown,
And beauty's pleafing chains put on ;
No art can fet the captive free,
Who fcorns his offer'd liberty;
Nor is confinement any pain,
To him who hugs his pleafing chain.

III.

Bright Venus! offspring of the fea!
Thy fovereign dictates I obey;
I own fubmifs thy mighty reign,
And feel thy power in every vein :
I feel thy influence all-confeft,
I feel thee triumph in my breaft!
'Tis there is fix'd thy facred court,
'Tis there thy Cupids gaily sport.

IV.

Come, my Boy, the altar place,
Add the blooming garland's grace;
Gently pour the facred wine,
Hear me, Venus! power divine!

Grant the only boon I crave,
Hear me, Venus! Hear thy flave!
Blefs my
fond foul with beauty's charms,
And give me Flavia to my arms (8).

Juft as I was finishing this piece of mufic, old Mr. Noell came into the parlour,

in

(8) As this fong is a fhort imitation of the 19th Ode of the first book of Horace, it is worth your while, Reader, to fee how Mr. Francis has done the whole. I will here fet down a few lines:

Urit me Glyceræ nitor

Splendentis pario marmore purius:
Urit grata protervitas,

Et vultus nimium lubricus afpici.

Which lines are imitated in the firft verfe of the above fong, and a part of the fecond; and the ingenious Mr. Francis renders them in the following manner

Again for Glycera I burn,

And all my long forgotten flames return.

As Parian marble pure and bright,

The fhining maid my bofom warms;

Her face too dazling for the fight,

Her fweet coquetting-how it charms!

In me tota ruens Venus
Cyprum deferuit-

Of which the third verse of the song is an imitation :-
Mr. Francis tranflates in the following manner-

Whole Venus rufhing through my veins,
No longer in her favourite Cyprus reigns.

And

in his wonted good-humour, and seemed very greatly pleased with me with me and my inftrument. He told me, I was the young man he wanted to be acquainted with, and that if it was no detriment to me, I should not leave him this month to come. Come, Sir, (continued this fine old gentleman) let me hear another piece of your muficvocal or inftrumental--as you will, for I fuppofe you fing as well as you play. Both you shall have, Sir, (I replied), to the best of my abilities, and by way of change, I will give you first a fong called the Solitude.

And

Hic vivum mihi cefpitem, hic
Verbenas, pueri, ponite thuraque
Bimi cum patera meri:

Mactatâ veniet lænior hoftiâ:

Which lines are imitated in the fourth verfe of the fong -Mr. Francis tranflates as follows

Here let the living altar rife,

Adorn'd with every herb and flower:

Here flame the incenfe to the fkies,

And pureft wines libation pour;

Due honours to the Goddefs paid,

Soft finks to willing love the yielding maid.

You fee in this the difference between a tranflation and an imitation.

A

A SONG called the Solitude.

I.

YE lofty mountains, whofe eternal fnows,

Like Atlas, feem to prop the diftant skies; While fhelter'd by your high and ample brows,

All nature's beauties feaft my ravifh'd eyes: And far beneath me o'er the diftant plain The thunders break, and rattling tempefts reign.

II.

Here, when Aurora with her chearful beam
And rofy blushes marks approaching day,
Oft do I walk along the purling ftream,
And fee the bleating flocks around me
ftray:

The woods, the rocks, each charm that ftrikes my fight,

Fills my whole breast with innocent delight.

III.

Here gaily dancing on the flow'ry ground The chearful Shepherds join their flute and

voice;

While thro' the groves the woodland fongs refound,

And fill the untroubled mind with peaceful

joys.