For empty fame
Let him amidst the rabble toil, or rove
In search of plunder far to western clime.
Give me to waste the hours in amorous play
With Delia, beauteous maid, and build the rhyme,
Praising her flowing hair, her snowy arms,
And all that prodigality of charms,
Formed to enslave my heart, and grace my lay;'--
Lord Chesterfield, who wrote some lines on 'Beau Nash's Picture at full
length, between the Busts of Newton and Pope at Bath,' of which this is
the last stanza--
'The picture placed the busts between,
Adds to the thought much strength;
Wisdom and Wit are little seen,
But Folly's at full length;'--
Thomas Penrose, who is more memorable as a warrior than as a poet,
having fought against Buenos Ayres, as well as having written some
elegant war-verses;--Edward Moore, a contributor to the _World_;--Sir
John Henry Moore, a youth of promise, who died in his twenty-fifth year,
leaving behind him such songs as the following:--
'Cease to blame my melancholy,
Though with sighs and folded arms
I muse with silence on her charms;
Censure not--I know 'tis folly;
Yet these mournful thoughts possessing,
Such delights I find in grief
That, could heaven afford relief,
My fond heart would scorn the blessing;'--
the Rev.
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