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When I think of my own native land,

In a moment I seem to be there;
But alas ! recollection at hand

Soon hurries me back to despair.

But the sea-fowl is gone to her nest,

The beast is laid down in his lair;
Even here is a season of rest,

And I to my cabin repair.
There's mercy in every place,

And mercy, encouraging thought !
Gives even affliction a grace,

And reconciles man to his lot.

ON

OBSERVING SOME NAMES OF LITTLE NOTE

RECORDED IN THE BIOGRAPHIA BRITANNICA,

OH, fond attempt to give a deathless lot
To names ignoble, born to be forgot!
In vain, recorded in historic page,
They court the notice of a future age:
Those twinkling tiny lustres of the land
Drop one by one from Fame's neglecting hand;
Lethæan gulfs receive them as they fall,
And dark oblivion soon absorbs them all.

So when a child, as playful children use, Has burnt to tinder a stale last year's news, The flame extinct, he views the roving fireThere goes my lady, and there goes

the squire, There goes the parson, oh illustrious spark ! And there, scarce less illustrious, goes the clerk!

REPORT OF AN ADJUDGED CASE,

NOT TO BE FOUND IN ANY OF THE BOOKS,

Between Nose and Eyes a strange contest arose,

The spectacles set them unhappily wrong;
The point in dispute was, as all the world knows,

To which the said spectacles ought to belong.

So Tongue was the lawyer, and argued the cause With a great deal of skill, and a wig full of

learning; While chief baron Ear sat to balance the laws,

So famed for his talent in nicely discerning.

In behalf of the Nose it will quickly appear,
And your lordship, he said, will undoubtedly

find,
That the Nose has had spectacles always in wear,

Which amounts to possession time out of mind.

Then holding the spectacles up to the court-
Your lordship observes they are made with a

straddle,
As wide as the ridge of the Nose is; in short,

Design'd to sit close to it, just like a saddle.

Again, would your lordship a moment suppose ('Tis a case that has happen'd, and may be

again That the visage or countenance had not a Nose, Pray who would, or who could, wear spectacles

then ?

On the whole it appears, and my argument shows,

With a reasoning the court will never condemn, That the spectacles plainly were made for the

Nose, And the Nose was as plainly intended for them.

Then shifting his side, (as a lawyer knows how,)

He pleaded again in behalf of the Eyes : But what were his arguments few people know, For the court did not think they were equally

wise.

So his lordship decreed with a grave

solemn tone, Decisive and clear, without one if or but — That, whenever the Nose put his spectacles on, By daylight or candlelight-Eyes should be

shut!

ON THE

PROMOTION OF EDWARD THURLOW, ESQ.

TO THE LORD HIGH CHANCELLORSHIP OF ENGLAND.

Round Thurlow's head in early youth,

And in his sportive days,
Fair Science pour'd the light of truth,

And Genius shed his rays.

See ! with united wonder cried

The experienced and the sage,
Ambition in a boy supplied

With all the skill of age !

Discernment, eloquence, and grace,

Proclaim him born to sway
The balance in the highest place,

And bear the palm away.

The praise bestow'd was just and wise ;

He sprang impetuous forth,
Secure of conquest, where the prize

Attends superior worth.

So the best courser on the plain

Ere yet he starts is known,
And does but at the goal obtain

What all had deem'd his own.

ODE TO PEACE.

Come, peace of mind, delightful guest! Return, and make thy downy nest

Once more in this sad heart: Nor riches I nor power pursue, Nor hold forbidden joys in view ;

We therefore need not part.

Where wilt thou dwell, if not with me,
From avarice and ambition free,

And pleasure's fatal wiles ?
For whom, alas ! dost thou prepare
The sweets that I was wont to share,

The banquet of thy smiles ?
The great, the gay, shall they partake
The heaven that thou alone canst make ?

And wilt thou quit the stream That murmurs through the dewy mead, The grove and the sequester'd shed,

To be a guest with them?

For thee I panted, thee I prized,
For thee I gladly sacrificed

Whate'er I loved before ;
And shall I see thee start away,
And helpless, hopeless, hear thee say -

Farewell! we meet no more ?

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