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High round his head the fragrant vapours bend,
So when ten pins in dazzling order stand,
So erst two brethren climb'd the cloud-capp'd hill,
O’er Beauty's tresses next the shaver rears His high ignited tongs, and glittering shears; Winds, with nice kink, the convoluted curl, The thin hairs yielding to his forceful twirl, Waves his bright blades, and leads with airy grace, The spiral ringlets down the lovely face; Scissors and eyes in rival radiance seen Dispense o’erpowering lustre round the scene. Should some huge lens from northern ices hewn, Pour hell's hot focus on the orb of noon, Not half so bright the encountering blaze would rise, As springs from Huggins' shears and Delia's eyes
IMPERIAL SHAVER! on thy laurell’d brow
On seeing Miss Sims of Covent Garden Theatre, in Fanny, in the Maid of the Mill.
From Norwood, say what Gifsy's this? Who knows?
'Tis Sims, who all excels in furtive arts, For other gipsies only steal our clothes,
This little gipsy steals our very hearts.
Dear honey, says Pat, I'm just come to town,
Quite speechless amid from the late expedition,
Pray, what think you of it? I ask, with submission,
Profound was the plan, and too wise to be scoff ’d at;
For, wherever we went, we were sure to be laugh'd at.
On the controversy respecting the drainatic merits of Messrs. Mossop and Ross.
Some they cry Ross up,
ON THE BIRTH-DAY OF THE SCOUNDREL* WILLIAM III.
Round William's chair, in triple rows,
The courtiers stood to gaze,
Bedaub'd him o'er with praise.
I pray you friend, said surly John,
Who stood behind the chair,
ope that window, and let out
Epigram, written by the celebrated Caleb Whitefoord, Esq. on Mr. Colman's dramatic piece, called The Spleen, or Islington Spa.
Wit, humour, character, and well-wrought scene ;
Can these the envious critics rage allay?
Than twenty city Spas can wash away.
And is there then, alas! no method left,
Of such curst carpers to escape the fury?
Be dull, and underwrite, and I'll insure you:
Codrus, alas! to wit or sense,
EPIGRAM, ON SAM FOOTE.
Unless puns and bon mots with good humour you blend,
oft gain admirers, more oft lose a friend; Though our fancies, sharp Sam, are oft pleased with your wit, Yet our feelings are hurt, by each “palpable hit;" Thus a monkey diverts by his tricks; but alas, What dire havoc he makes with our china and glass !
* Dr. Johnson.
!! 7:35 .
St. Peter, who survey'd the throng,
For here, at last, comes my Luke Long.
A CERTAIN class of the Parisians busy themselves in prying into the circumstances of Bonaparte's birth and education, in order to furnish food for scandal. A lady, wishing to mortify Madame Bonaparte, asked her whether she was fully acquainted with her husband's origin. I know, and all Europe knows, replied the Empress, that he is the son of Mars and Fortune.
The late Lord Strichen, a Judge of the Court of Session in Scotland, a very worthy man, but no conjurer, was in company, when it was observed by some one, that dull boys at school often proved very ingenious men. It is very true, said his lordship, I was a dull boy at school myself.
An officer's servant in Gloucestershire, having taken offence at something said by the clerk of the parish, thought it incurnbent upon him, as a gentleman, to send the other a challenge to fight with pistols, to which the following answer was given: Abraham Amen conceiving that murder with fire arms is the exclusive privilege of men of lionour, and of cavaliers, refuses to fight with the upstart Bob Bouncer, in the manner he requires; but, as, by the laws of duelling, the person challenged, has a right to choose his weapons, Abraham Amen will meet the said Bouncer, even on a Sunday, and on consecrated ground, to the praise and glory of God, with trvo stavts.
A little girl, on hearing that her mother had lost a law suit, said, Dear manma, I am quite glad that you have lost that plaguey suit, that used to vex you so.
In the parlour of a public house in Fleet-street, there is inscribed over the chimney-piece, the following notice: Gentlemen, learning to spell, are requested to use yesterday's paper.
Dr. EGERTON, the late Bishop of Durham, on coming to that see, employed a person of the name of Due, as his agent, to discover the true value of the estates held by lease under him, and, in consequence of Due's report, greatly raised both the fines and rents of his tenants; on which account the following toast was frequently drank in that diocese:-May the Lord take the Bishop, and the Devil have his Due.
A nobleman, remarkably abstemious, was chiding one of his workmen for often getting drunk. It is astonishing, said his Lordship, that all good workmen are addicted to drunkenness. Then, answered the man, your Lordship, I presume is not a good workman.
Henry IV, of France, had received notice of the conspiracy of Marshal Biron. It was observed by a nobleman, that the marshal was one of the best card players at court. He plays very well, said the King, but he makes his parties very ill.
On account of the great number of suicides lately in Dublin, an Irish member of the House of Commons, moved for leave to bring in a bill making suicide a capilal offence.
The author of the tragedy of Douglas makes his hero repeat
Beneath a mountain's brow, the most remote
A hermit liv'd. Pray, Mr. Author, by what sort of path did the shepherds reach this inaccessille mountain's brow?