rvey'd,
And recollected toils endear'd the shade,
Till nature call'd him to the gen'ral doom,
And virtue's sorrow dignified his tomb.

[a] At Hanmer church, in Flintshire.
[b] This paraphrase is inserted in Mrs. Williams's Miscellanies. The
Latin is there said to be written by Dr. Freind. Of the person whose
memory it celebrates, a copious account may be seen in the appendix
to the supplement to the Biographia Britannica.

TO MISS HICKMAN[a],
PLAYING ON THE SPINET.

Bright Stella, form'd for universal reign,
Too well you know to keep the slaves you gain;
When in your eyes resistless lightnings play,
Aw'd into love our conquer'd hearts obey,
And yield reluctant to despotick sway:
But, when your musick sooths the raging pain,
We bid propitious heav'n prolong your reign,
We bless the tyrant, and we hug the chain.
When old Timotheus struck the vocal string,
Ambition's fury fir'd the Grecian king:
Unbounded projects lab'ring in his mind,
He pants for room, in one poor world confin'd.
Thus wak'd to rage, by musick's dreadful pow'r,
He bids the sword destroy, the flame devour.
Had Stella's gentle touches mov'd the lyre,
Soon had the monarch felt a nobler fire;
No more delighted with destructive war,
Ambitious only now to please the fair,
Resign'd his thirst of empire to her charms,
And found a thousand worlds in Stella's arms.

[a] These lines, which have been communicated by Dr. Turton, son to Mrs.
Turton, the lady to whom they are addressed by her maiden name of
Hickman, must have been written, at least, as early as 1734, as that
was the year of her marriage: at how much earlier a period of Dr.
Johnson's life they might have been written, is not known.

PARAPHRASE OF PROVERBS, CHAP. VI.
VERSES 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11.

_"Go to the ant, thou sluggard[a]_."

Turn on the prudent ant thy heedful eyes,
Observe her labours, sluggard, and be wise:
No stern command, no monitory voice,
Prescribes her duties, or directs her choice;
Yet, timely provident, she hastes away,
To snatch the blessings of the plenteous day;
When fruitful summer loads the teeming plain,
She crops the harvest, and she stores the grain.
How long shall sloth usurp thy useless hours,
Unnerve thy vigour, and enchain thy pow'rs;
While artful shades thy downy couch inclose,
And soft solicitation courts repose?
Amidst the drowsy charms of dull delight,
Year chases year with unremitted flight,
Till want now following, f