Journal and Letters of Philip Vickers Fithian Part 44

Guardian.

Newtons Ladies Phil: 2 Vol's.

Henry & Frances 4 Vol's.

Gay's Poems 2 Vol's.

School of Man.

Thompsons Works 4 Vol's.

Discourse on Toleration.

Letters from a Persian in England to his Friend at Home.

Shaftsburys Characteristics.

Impartial Philosopher 2 Vol's.

Paradise Lost.

Schikards Horologium Ebraium.

Trenchards Tracts 2 Vol's.

Reflections on Tar-Water.

Memoria-Tacknica.

English Grammar.

Juvenal French Translations Observations on United Provinces.

Chronicon Carionis.

Latin Idioms.

Leonora 2 Vol's.

Cicero French Translation.

Hierionii Poemata 2 Vol's.

Janua trilinguis.

Intreciens sur les Sciences.

Tractatus, theologico Politicus.

De Obligatione Consientia.

Erasmus's Praise of Folly.

De Linguarum Artificio.

[VALENTINE MADE BY FITHIAN FOR PRISCILLA CARTER]

To Miss _Priscilla Carter_.

Presented as a Valentine.

When _Custom_ calls I must away, She calls me now, & chides my Stay; She asks my usual annual care, To compliment some worthy Fair; To hasten to _Apollo's_ Shrine, For Aid to form a _Valentine_.

But if _Apollo_ I invoke, Gay _Fancy_ I shall sure provoke Who swears these yearly Rhimes should be, From Order, Sense, & Learning free; That if each line be fill'd with Stuff, Twill please a Lady well enough That Fancy only can inspire A Youthful Heart with frantic Fire, To write such inconsistent Lines, As always please in Valentines; That if Apollo lends his Aid, And I address a well-bred Maid; With Verses plain yet fill'd with sense, The Girl would curse my Impudence; Pedantic, earth-born Fellow! he, A hobbling Tutor write to me!

Let him go teach his Scholars Greek, Or learn, himself, to dance, to speak; And learn to please, or never dare, Disturb the Quiet of the Fair.

She spoke; but why should I obey, What unsubstantial Phantoms say?

Yet _Fancy_ urg'd her case so well, No human Mind could guess or tell, What hidden Scheme she had in View, Nor what the _Baggage_ meant to do: 'Till _Pallas_ Queen of wisdom came, And told the mischief of the Dame, For Fancy, Madam, early knew, Twas my Desire to write to you; She therefore whisper'd in my Ear, That you would nought but Nonsense hear In hopes to baffle my Design, Or form a vulgar Valentine.

But Pallas told me what to do If I design'd to write to you, Make _Humour_, Truth, & Sense conspire, With genuine poetic-Fire, To form a Song in Taste & Ease, Such would your Infant-Bosom please.

Now, Miss, accept in humble Lays, My weak attempt to sing your Praise; Nor think it rudeness when I try, To hold your virtues up on high, To shew their bright yet living Blaze And make inraptured Numbers gaze; _Slander_ herself must disappear, Or justify my Conduct here, Since _Fancy_, _Wit_, & _Pallas_, too, Are all contending, Miss, for you.

I in the common sportful Way, With pleasure now of you might say, That both your Eyes are glowing Darts, Which only seen do wound our hearts; That Venus' Son by her command Waits always at your fair Right-Hand, And that the _Loves_ in Beauty drest, Are always hov'ring near your Breast; But, tho Such words appli'd to you, In every sense should all be true; And if you hear such pleasant Rhimes, Sung in your Ear ten thousand Times: Yet always doubt what makes you more, Than ever _Mortal_ was before.

When any Girl; with beauty drest, And Innocence above the Rest, Tho' _Fortune_ has withheld her Store, And left the blushing Maiden poor, Yet Ladie's look with envious Eyes, And well-born Men the _Angel_ prize.

Or when the G.o.d of Wealth is kind, Who does not _worth_ nor _Beauty_ mind, And gives some sordid _Woman_ Gold, Our foolish s.e.x is bought & sold; We cringe, & court, & sigh, & whine And swear the Nymph is quite divine.

And sometimes, tho' Examples here, Exceeding seldom do appear, When a good Girl of solid sense, Who does not make the least pretence, To what our Fancies rate so high, A great estate & sparkling Eye; Who knows tis only want of these, Makes her incapable to please, And therefore Studies hard to find, And plant such Virtues in her Mind As shall the place of Friends supply With constant mirthful Company: Sometimes these Virtues far outdo, The power of _wealth_ & _Beauty_ too, And make a low-born Virgin rise, To seem a _G.o.ddess_ in our Eyes.

But when we image in our Mind, Beauty, & Wealth, & Genius join'd, And see them all to one belong, The Colours are so bright so strong; None can resist the powerful Blaze But all with _Love_, & _Rapture_ gaze If Madam, my Presage be true, I may apply all these to you; And free from _Fear_, or _Interest_ say, That on some happy Future Day, When years shall have the _worth_ exprest, Which yet lies prison'd in your Breast; And settled more the charming Grace, Of grave _good Humour_ in your Face; As you have been by _Fortune_ blest, And born of _Fame_, & _Wealth_ possest, Those full-blown Charms the world will see, And with one common voice agree, That such perfection is design'd To be a pattern for Mankind.

Sure then I've cause with Heart sincere, To bless the _Chance_ which led me here, And plac'd me down by _Wisdom's_ Flow'r, Which still grows lovelier every Hour; Whose tender Branches bud & shoot And promise early useful Fruit; Tho' _Chance_ has given me in Care, To Nurse this plant & make it fair, Yet generous _Nature_ had before, Been so unsparing of her Store, That unemploy'd, with wondering Eyes, I only stand, & see it rise!

PHILIP. V FITHIAN.