50
EPISTLES.
But when beneath her sacred shrine she stood,
Her fury soon confess'd the coming god;
Her breast began to heave, her eyes to roll,
And wondrous visions fill'd her lab'ring soul. 291
Her fury soon confess'd the coming god;
Her breast began to heave, her eyes to roll,
And wondrous visions fill'd her lab'ring soul. 291
A LETTER
TO THE KNIGHT OF THE SABLE SHIELD.
———Habet Bibliopola Tryphon.MART. Lib. iv.
Sir Knight! who know with equal skill
To make a poem and a pill,
'Twas my misfortune t'other night
To be tormented with a spright.
On either side his head the hair 5
Seem'd bushing out, the top was bare;
His garb antique, but on his face
There reign'd a sweet majestic grace;
Of comely port, and in his hand
He decent wav'd a laurel wand: 10
On the left foot (by which I found
His name was on the stage renown'd)
A sock of curious shape he wore,
With myrtle foliage flourish'd o'er;
A purple buskin grac'd the right, 15
And strong he stepp'd, yet lovely light.
"Thy friendly care," he cry'd, "I crave
"To give me quiet in my grave;
To make a poem and a pill,
'Twas my misfortune t'other night
To be tormented with a spright.
On either side his head the hair 5
Seem'd bushing out, the top was bare;
His garb antique, but on his face
There reign'd a sweet majestic grace;
Of comely port, and in his hand
He decent wav'd a laurel wand: 10
On the left foot (by which I found
His name was on the stage renown'd)
A sock of curious shape he wore,
With myrtle foliage flourish'd o'er;
A purple buskin grac'd the right, 15
And strong he stepp'd, yet lovely light.
"Thy friendly care," he cry'd, "I crave
"To give me quiet in my grave;
