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With all my soul!-th' imputed charge rehearse;
I'll own my errour and expunge the verse.
Come, come, howe'er the day was lost or won,
The world allows the race was fairly run.
But lest the truth too naked should appear,
A robe of sable shall the goddess wear:
When sheep were subject to the lion's reign,
Ere man acquir'd dominion o'er the plain,
Voracious wolves, fierce rushing from the rocks,
Devour'd without control th'unguarded flocks:
The suff'rers crowding round the royal cave,
Their monarch's pity and protection crave:
Not that they wanted valour, force or arms,
To shield their lambs from danger and alarms;
A thousand rams, the champions of the fold,
In strength of horn, and patriot virtue bold,
Engag'd in firm association, stood,
Their lives devoted to the public good:
A warlike chieftain was their sole request,
To marshal, guide, instruct, and rule the rest:
Their pray'r was heard, and by consent of all,
A courtier ape appointed general.—
He went, he led, arrang'd the battle stood,
The savage foe came pouring like a flood;
Then pug aghast, fled swifter than the wind,
Nor deign'd, in threescore miles, to look behind;
While ev'ry band for orders bleat in vain,
And fall in slaughter'd heaps upon the plain:
The scar'd baboon (to cut the matter short)
With all his speed could not out-run report;
And to appease the clamours of the nation,
'Twas fit his case should stand examination.
The board was nam'd-each worthy took his place;
All senior members of the horned race3.-.
The wether, goat, ram, elk, and ox were there,
And a grave, hoary stag possess'd the chair.-

I Governor of the Tower. 2 Sir John Cope.

3 It is not to be wondered at, that this board consisted of horned cattle only, since, before the use of arms, every creature was obliged in war to fight with such weapons as nature afforded it, consequently those supplied with horns bid fairest for signalizing themselves in the field, and carrying off the first posts in the army.-But I observe, that among the members of this court, there is no mention made of such of the horned family as were chiefly celebrated for valour; namely, the bull, unicorn, rhinoceros, &c. which gives reason to suspect, that these last were either out of fa

Th' inquiry past, each in his turn began
The culprit's conduct variously to scan.
At length, the sage uprear'd his awful crest,
And pausing, thus his fellow chiefs address'd.-
"If age, that from this head its honours stole,
Hath not impair'd the functions of my soul,
But sacred wisdom with experience bought,
While this weak frame decays, matures my thought;
Th' important issue of this grand debate
May furnish precedent for your own fate;
Should ever fortune call you to repel
The shaggy foe, so desperate and fell-
'Tis plain, you say, his excellence sir Ape
From the dire field accomplish'd an escape;
Alas! our fellow-subjects ne'er had bled,
If every ram that fell, like him had fled;
Certcs, those sheep were rather mad than brave,
Which scorn'd th' example their wise leader gave.
Let us, then, ev'ry vulgar hint disdain,
And from our brother's laurel wash the stain."
Th' admiring court applauds the president,
And pug was clear'd by general consent.

FRIEND.

There needs no magic to divine your scope,
Mark'd as you are a flagrant misanthrope:
Sworn foe to good and bad, to great and small,
Thy rankling pen produces nought but gall:
Let virtue struggle, or let glory shine,
Thy verse affords not one approving line.-

POET.

Hail sacred themes! the Muse's chief delight!
O bring the darling objects to my sight!
My breast with elevated thought shall glow,
My fancy brighten, and my numbers flow!
Th' Aonian grove with rapture would I tread,
To crop unfading wreaths for William's head;
But that my strain, unheard amidst the throng,
Must yield to Lockman's ode and Hanbury's song.
Nor would th' enamour'd Muse neglect to pay
To Stanhope's worth the tributary lay;
The soul unstain'd, the sense sublime to paint,
A people's patron, pride and ornament!
Did not his virtues eterniz'd remain
The boasted theme of Pope's immortal strain.
Not ev'n the pleasing task is left, to raise
A grateful monument to Barnard's praise;
Else should the venerable patriot stand
Th' unshaken pillar of a sinking land.
The gladd'ning prospect let me still pursue:
And bring fair virtue's triumphs to the view!
Alike to me, by fortune blest or not,
From soaring Cobham to the melting Scot.

vour with the ministry, laid aside on account of their great age, or that the ape had interest enough at court to exclude them from the number of his judges.

4 Two productions resembling one another very much in that cloying mediocrity, which Horace compares to-Crassum ungentuin, et sardo cum melle papaver.

5 The earl of Chesterfield.

6 Daniel Mackercher, esq. a man of such primitive simplicity, that he may be said to have exceeded the Scripture injunction, by not only parting with his cloak and coat, but with his shirt also, to relieve a brother in distress: Mr. Anues ley, who claimed the Anglesea title and estate.

But lo! a swarm of harpies intervene,
To ravage, mangle, and pollute the scene!
Gorg d with our plunder, yet still gaunt for spoil,
Rapacious Gideon fastens on our isle;
Insatiate Lascelles, and the fiend Vaneck,
Rise on our ruins, and enjoy the wreck;
While griping Jasper glories in his prize,
Wrung from the widow's tears and orphan's cries.

FRIEND.

Relaps'd again! strange tendency to rail!
I fear'd this meekness would not long prevail.

POET.

Fraught with the spirit of a Gothic monk,
Let Rich, with dulness and devotion drunk,
Enjoy the peal so barbarous and loud,
While his brain spues new monsters to the crowd";
I see with joy, the vaticide deplore
An bell-denouncing priest and sov'reign whore.
Let ev'ry polish'd dame, and genial lord
Employ the social chair 13, and venal board 14;
Debauch'd from sense, let doubtful meanings run,
The vague conundrum and the prurient pun;
While the vain fop, with apish grin, regards
The gig'ling minx half chok'd behind her cards:
These, and a thousand idle pranks, I deem
The motley spawn of ignorance and whim.

You deem it rancour then?-Look round and see Let pride conceive and folly propagate,

What v ces flourish still, unprun'd by me:
Corruption, roll'd in a triumphant car,
Displays his burnish'd front and glitt'ring star;
Nor heeds the public scorn, or transient curse,
Unknown alike to honour and remorse.
Behold the leering belle9, caress'd by all,
Adorn each private feast and public ball;
Where peers attentive listen and adore,
And not one matron shuns the titled whore.
At Peter's obsequies 10 I sung no dirge;
Nor has my satire yet supply'd a scourge
For the vile tribes of usurers and bites,
Who sneak at Jonathan's and swear at White's.
Each low pursuit, and slighter folly b.ed
Within the selfish heart and hollow head,
Thrives uncontrol'd, and blossoms o'er the land,
Nor feels the rigour of my chast'ning hand:
While Codrus shivers o'er his bags of gold,
By famine wither'd, and benumb'd by cold;
I mark his haggard eyes with frenzy roll,
And feast upon the terrours of his soul;
The wrecks of war, the perils of the deep,
That curse with hideous dreams the caitiff's sleep;
Insolvent debtors, thieves, and civil strife,
Which daily persecute his wretched life;
With all the horrours of prophetic dread,
That rack his bosom while the Mail is read.
Safe from the rod, untainted by the school,
A judge by birth, by destiny a fool,
While the young lordling struts in native pride,
His party-coloured tutor by his side",
Pleas'd, let me own the pious mother's care,
Who to the brawny sire commits her heir.

"A triumvirate of contractors, who, scorning the narrow views of private usury, found means to lay a whole state under contribution, and pillage a kingdom of immense sums, under the protection of law.

8 A Christian of bowels, who lends money to his friends in want at the moderate interest of 50 per cent. A man famous for buying poor seamens' tickets.

9 A wit of the first water, celebrated for her talent of repartee and double entendre.

10 Peter Waters, esq. whose character is too well known to need description.

"Whether it be for the reason assigned in the subsequent lines, or the frugality of the parents, who are unwilling to throw away money in making their children wiser than themselves, I know not: but certain it is, that many people of fashion commit the education of their heirs to some trusty footman, with a particular command to keep master out of the stable.

The fashion still adopts the spurious brat:
Nothing so strange that fashion cannot tame;
By this dishonour ceases to be shame:
This weans from blushes lewd Tyrawly's face,
Gives Hawley 15 praise and Ingoldsby disgrace,
From Mead to Thompson shifts the palm at once,
A meddling, prating, blund'ring, busy dunce!
And may (should taste a little more decline)
Transform the nation to an herd of swine.
FRIEND.

The fatal period hastens on apace!

Nor will thy verse th' obscene event disgrace;
Thy flow'rs of poetry, that smell so strong,
The keenest appetites have loath'd the song;
Condemn'd by Clark, Banks, Barrowby,and Chitty,
And all the crop-ear'd critics of the city:
While sagely neutral sits thy silent friend,
Alike averse to censure or commend.

РОЕТ.

Peace to the gentle soul, that could deny
And let me still the sentiment disdain
His invocated voice to fill the cry!
Of him, who never speaks but to arraign;
The sneering son of calumny and scorn,
Whom neither arts, uor sense, nor soul adorn:

12 Monsters of absurdity.

He look'd, and saw a sable sorc'rer rise,
Swift to whose hand a winged volume flies:
All sudden, gorgons hiss, and dragons glare,
And ten-horn'd fiends and giants rush to war.
Hell rises, Heaven descends, and dance on Earth,
Gods, imps and monsters, music, rage and mirth,
A fire, a jig, a battle, and a ball,
'Till one wide conflagration swallows all.

Dunciad.

13 This is no other than an empty chair, carried about with great formality, to perform visits, by the help of which a decent correspondence is often maintained among people of fashion, many years together, without one personal interview; to the great honour of hospitality and good neighbourhood.

14 Equally applicable to the dining and cardtable, where every guest must pay an extravagant price for what he has.

15 A general so renowned for conduct and discipline, that, during an action in which he had a considerable command, he is said to have been seen rallying three fugitive dragoons, five miles from the field of battle.

16 A fraternity of wits, whose virtue, modesty, and taste, are much of the same dimension.

1

4

SONG.

Or his, who to maintain a critic's rank,
Tho' conscious of his own internal blank,
His want of taste unwilling to betray,
'Twixt sense and nonsense besitates all day;
With brow contracted hears each passage read,
And often hums and shakes his empty head;
Until some oracle ador'd, pronounce
The passive bard a poet or a dunce;
Then, in loud clamour echoes back the word,
"Tis bold! insipid-soaring or absurd.
These, and th' unnumber'd shoals of smaller fry,
That nibble round, I pity and defy.

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585

THE TEARS OF SCOTLAND.

Written in the Year 1746.
MOURN, hapless Caledonia, mourn
Thy banish'd peace, thy laurels toru!
Thy sons, for valour long renown'd,
Lie slaughter'd on their native ground;
Thy hospitable roofs no more,
Invite the stranger to the door;
In smoky ruins sunk they lie,
The monuments of cruelty.

The wretched owner sees afar
His all become the prey of war;
Bethinks him of his babes and wife,
Then smites his breast, and curses life.
Thy swains are famish'd on the rocks,
Where once they fed their wanton flocks:
Thy ravish'd virgins shriek in vain;
Thy infants perish on the plain.
What boots it then, in every clime,
Thro' the wide-spreading waste of time,
Thy martial glory, crown'd with praise,
Still shone with undiminish'd blaze?
Thy tow'ring spirit now is broke,
Thy neck is bended to the yoke.
What foreign arms could never quell,
By civil rage and rancour fell.

The rural pipe and merry lay
No more shall cheer the happy day:
No social scenes of gay delight
Beguile the dreary winter night:
No strains but those of sorrow flow,
And nought be heard but sounds of woe,
While the pale phantoms of the slain
Glide nightly o'er the silent plain.
O baneful cause, oh, fatal morn,
Accurs'd to ages yet unborn!
The sons against their fathers stood,
The parent shed his children's blood.
Yet, when the rage of battle ceas'd,
The victor's soul was not appeas'd:
The naked and forlorn must feel
Devouring flames, and murd'ring steel!
The pious mother doom'd to death,
Forsaken wanders o'er the heath,
The bleak wind whistles round her head,
Her helpless orphans cry for bread;
Bereft of shelter, food, and friend,
She views the shades of night descend,
And, stretch'd beneath th' inclement skies,
Weeps o'er her tender babes and dies.

VERSES

ON A YOUNG LADY PLAYING ON A HARPSICHORD

AND SINGING.

WHEN Sappho struck the quiv'ring wire,
The throbbing breast was all on fire:
And when she rais'd the vocal lay,
The captive soul was charm'd away!

But had the nymph, possest with these,
Thy softer, chaster, pow'r to please;
Thy beauteous air of sprightly youth,
Thy native smiles of art!ess truth;

The worm of grief had never prey'd
On the forsaken love-sick maid:
Nor had she mourn'd a hapless flame,
Nor dash'd on rocks her tender frame.

LOVE ELEGY.

IN IMITATION OF TIBULLUS.

WHERE now are all my flatt'ring dreams of joy?
Monimia, give my soul her wonted rest;
Since first thy beauty fix'd my roving eye,
Heart-gnawing cares corrode my pensive breast.
Let happy lovers fly where pleasures call,
With festive songs beguile the fleeting hour;
Lead beauty thro' the mazes of the ball,

Or press her wanton in love's roseate bower. For me, no more I'll range th' empurpled mead, Where shepherds pipe, and virgins dance around, Nor wander thro' the woodbine's fragrant shade, To hear the music of the grove resound.

I'll seek some lonely church, or dreary hall,

Where fancy paints the glimm'ring taper blue, Where damps hang mould'ring on the ivy'd wall, And sheeted ghosts drink up the midnight dew: There leagued with hopeless anguish and despair, Awhile in silence o'er my fate repine: Then, with a long farewel to love and care,

To kindred dust my weary limbs consign.

Wilt thou, Monimia, shed a gracious tear

On the cold grave where all my sorrows rest? Strew vernal flow'rs, applaud my love sincere, And bid the turf lie easy on my breast?

SONG,

WHILE with fond rapture and amaze, On thy transcendent charms I gaze,

My cautious soul essays in vain
Her peace and freedom to maintain:
Yet let that blooming form divine,
Where grace and harmony combine,
Those eyes, like genial orbs, that move,
Dispensing gladness, joy, and love,
In all their pomp assail my view,
Intent my bosom to subdue;

My breast, by wary maxims steel'd,

Not all those charms shall force to yield.

But, when invok'd to beauty's aid,
I see th' enlighten'd soul display'd;
That soul so sensibly sedate
Amid the storms of froward fate!
Thy genius active, strong and clear,
Thy wit sublime, tho' not severe,
The social ardour void of art,
That glows within thy candid heart;
My spirits, sense and strength decay,
My resolution dies away,
And ev'ry faculty opprest,
Almighty love invades my breast!

SONG.

To fix her 'twere a task as vain
To count the April drops of rain,
To sow in Afric's barren soil,
Or tempests hold within a toil.

I know it, friend, she's light as air,
False as the fowler's artful snare;
Inconstant as the passing wind,
As winter's dreary frost unkind.

She's such a miser too in love,

It's joys she'll neither share nor provė;
Tho' hundreds of gallants await
From her victorious eyes their fate.

Blushing at such inglorious reign,

I sometimes strive to break her chain;
My reason summon to my aid,
Resolv'd no more to be betray'd.

Ah! friend! 'tis but a short-liv'd trance,
Dispell'd by one enchanting glance;
She need but look, and, I confess,
Those looks completely curse or bless.

So soft, so elegant, so fair,

Sure something more than human's there; I must submit, for strife is vain, 'Twas destiny that forg'd the chain.

ODES.

BURLESQUE ode'.

WHERE wast thou, wittol Ward, when hapless

fate

From these weak arms mine aged grannam tore: These pious arms essay'd too late,

To drive the dismal phantom from the door.

Dr. Smollett, imagining himself ill treated by lord Lyttleton, wrote the above burlesque on that nobleman's monody on the death of his lady.

Could not thy healing drop, illustrious quack, Could not thy salutary pill prolong her days; For whom, so oft, to Marybone, alack! Thy sorrels dragg'd thee thro' the worst of ways!

Oil-dropping Twick'nham did not then detain Thy steps, tho' tended by the Cambrian maids; Nor the sweet environs of Drury-lane; Nor dusty Pimlico's embow'ring shades; Nor Whitehall, by the river's bank, Beset with rowers dank;

Nor where th' Exchange pours forth its tawny song; Nor where to mix with offal, soil, and blood, Steep Snow-hill rolls the sable flood;

Nor where the Mint's contaminated kennel runs:

Ill doth it now beseem,

That thou shouldst doze and dream,
When Death in mortal armour came,

And struck with ruthless dart the gentle dame.
Her lib'ral hand and sympathising breast
The brute creation kindly bless'd:
Where'er she trod grimalkin puri'd around,
The squeaking pigs her bounty own'd;
Nor to the waddling duck or gabbling goose
Did she glad sustenance refuse;
The strutting cock she daily fed,
And turky with his snout so red;

Of chickens careful as the pious hen,

Nor did she overlook the tomtit or the wren; While redbreast hopp'd before her in the hall, As if she common mother were of all.

For my distracted mind,
What comfort can I find;

O best of grannams! thou art dead and gone,
And I am left behind to weep and moan,

To sing thy dirge in sad funereal lay,
Ah! woe is me! alack! and well-a-day!

TO MIRTH.

PARENT of joy! heart-easing Mirth! Whether of Venus or Aurora born;

Yet goddess sure of heavenly birth,
Visit benign a son of Grief forlorn:

Thy glittering colours gay,
Around him, Mirth, display;
And o'er his raptur'd sense
Diffuse thy living influence:

So shall each hill in purer green array'd, And flower adorn'd in new-born beauty glow;

The grove shall smooth the horrours of the shade,

And streams in murmurs shall forget to flow.
Shine, goddess, shine with unremitted ray,
And gild (a second sun) with brighter beam our day.

Labour with thee forgets his pain,
And aged Poverty can smile with thee;
If thou be nigh, Grief's hate is vain,
And weak th' uplifted arm of Tyranny.
The Morning opes on high
His universal eye;

And on the world doth pour

His glories in a golden shower, Lo! Darkness trembling 'fore the hostile ray Shrinks to the cavern deep and wood forlorn:

The brood obscene, that own her gloomy sway, Troop in her rear, and fly th' approach of Morn.

Pale shivering ghosts, that dread th' all-cheering
light,
[night.
Quick, as the lightnings flash, glide to sepulchral

But whence the gladdening beam

That pours his purple stream

O'er the long prospect wide?

'Tis Mirth. I see her sit
In majesty of light,

With Laughter at her side.
Bright-ey'd Fancy hovering near
Wide waves her glancing wing in air;
And young Wit flings his pointed dart,
That guiltless strikes the willing heart.
Fear not now Affliction's power,
Fear not now wild Passion's rage,

Nor fear ye aught in evil hour,
Save the tardy hand of Age.

Now Mirth hath heard the suppliant poet's prayer;
No cloud that rides the blast, shall vex the
troubled air.

TO SLEEP.

SOFT Sleep, profoundly pleasing power,
Sweet patron of the peaceful hour,
O listen from thy calin abode,
And hither wave thy magic rod;
Extend thy silent, soothing sway,
And charm the canker Care away.
Whether thou lov'st to glide along,
Attended by an a'ry throng
Of gentle dreams and smiles of joy,
Such as adorn the wanton boy;
Or to the monarch's fancy bring
Delights that better suit a king;
The glittering host, the groaning plain,
The clang of arms, and victor's train;
Or should a milder vision please,
Present the happy scenes of peace;
Plump Autumn, blushing all around,
Rich Industry with toil embrown'd,
Content, with brow serene'y gay,
And genial Art's refulgent ray.

By bowers of birch, and groves of pine,
And edges flower'd with eglantine.

Still on thy banks so gaily green,
May num'rous herds and flocks be seen,
And lasses chanting o'er the pail,
And shepherds piping in the dale,
And ancient Faith that knows no guile,]
And Industry imbrown'd with toil,
And hearts resolv'd, and hands prepar'd,
The blessings they enjoy to guard.

TO BLUE-EY'D ANN.

WHEN the rough North forgets to howl,
And Ocean's billows cease to roll;
When Lybian sands are bound in frost,
And cold to Nova Zembla's lost!
When heav'nly bodies cease to move,
My blue-ey'd Ann I'll cease to love.

No more shall flowers the meads adorn;
Nor sweetness deck the rosy thorn;
Nor swelling buds proclaim the spring;
Nor parching heats the dog-star bring;
Nor langbing lilie paint the grove,
When blue-ey'd Ann I cease to love.
No more shall joy in hope be found;
Nor pleasures dance their frolic round;
Nor love's light god inhabit Earth;
Nor beauty give the passion birth;
Nor heat to summer sunshine cleave,
When blue-ey'd Nanny I deceive.

When rolling seasons cease to change,
Inconstancy forgets to range;
When lavish May no more shall bloom;
Nor gardens yield a rich perfume;
When Nature from her sphere shall start,
I'll tear my Nanny from my heart.

TO LEVEN-WATER.

ON Leven's banks, while free to rove,
And tune the rural pipe to love;
I envied not the happiest swain
That ever trod the Arcadian plain.

Pure stream! in whose transparent wave
My youthful limbs I wont to lave;
No torrents stain thy limpid source;
No rocks impede thy dimpling course,
That sweetly warbles o'er its bed,

With white, round, polish'd pebbles spread;
While, lightly pois'd, the scaly brood
In myriads cleave thy crystal flood;
The springing trout in speckled pride;
The salmon, monarch of the tide;
The ruthless pike, intent on war;
The silver cel, and mottled par'.
Devolving from thy parent lake,
A charming maze thy waters make,

TO INDEPENDENCE.

STROPHE,

THY spirit, Independence, let me share!
Lord of the lion-heart and eagle-eye,
Thy steps I follow with my bosom bare,
Nor heed the storm that howls along the sky.
Deep in the frozen regions of the north,
A goddess violated brought thee forth,
Immortal Liberty, whose look sublime

Hath bleach'd the tyrant's cheek in every varying

clime.

What time the iron-hearted Gaul
With frantic Superstition for his guide,
Arm'd with the dagger and the pall,
The sons of Woden to the field defy'd:
The ruthless hag, by Weser's flood,
In Heaven's name urg'd th' infernal blow;
And red the stream began to flow:
The vanquish'd were baptiz'd with blood'.

I Charlemagne obliged four thousand Saxon prisoners to embrace the Christian religion, and immediately after they were baptized ordered their

The par is a small fish, not unlike the smelt, throats to be cut.―Their prince Vitikind fled for

which it rivals in delicacy and flavour.

shelter to Gotric king of Denmark.

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