The severe usage which Mr. Prior met with, perhaps was the occasion of
the following beautiful lines, addressed to his Chloe;

From public noise, and factious strife,
From all the busy ills of life,
Take me, my Chloe, to thy breast;
And lull my wearied soul to rest:
For ever, in this humble cell,
Let thee and I, my fair one, dwell;
None enter else, but Love----and he
Shall bar the door, and keep the key.

To painted roofs, and shining spires
(Uneasy feats of high desires)
Let the unthinking many croud,
That dare be covetous, and proud;
In golden bondage let them wait,
And barter happiness for state:
But oh! my Chloe when thy swain
Desires to see a court again;
May Heav'n around his destin'd head
The choicest of his curses shed,
To sum up all the rage of fate.
In the two things I dread, and hate,
May'st thou be false, and I be great.

In July 1721, within two months of his death, Mr. Prior published the
following beautiful little tale on the falshood of mankind, entitled
The Conversation, and applied it to the truth, honour, and justice of