« PreviousContinue »
A rope! I wish we patriots had
Such strings for all who need 'em-
What! hang a man for going mad?
Then farewell British freedom.
OBSERVING SOME NAMES OF LITTLE NOTE
THIE BIOGRAPHIA BRITANNICA.
Он, 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 fire-
There goes my lady, and there goes the squire,
There goes the parson, oh! illustrious spark,
And there, scarce less illustrious, goes the clerk!
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,
Designed to sit close to it, just like a saddle.
Again, would your lordship a moment suppose
('Tis a case that has happened, 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 day-light or candle-light-Eyes should be shut!
BURNING OF LORD MANSFIELD'S LIBRARY,
TOGETHER WITH HIS MSS.
By the Mob, in the Month of June, 1780.
So then the Vandals of our isle,
Sworn foes to sense and law,
Have burnt to dust a nobler pile
Than ever Roman saw!
And Murray sighs o'er Pope and Swift,
And many a treasure more,
The well-judged purchase and the gift
That graced his lettered store.
Their pages mangled, burnt, and torn,
The loss was his alone;
But ages yet to come shall mourn
The burning of his own.
ON THE SAME.
WHEN wit and genius meet their doom
In all-devouring flame,
They tell us of the fate of Rome,
And bid us fear the same.
O'er Murray's loss the muses wept,
They felt the rude alarm,
Yet bless'd the guardian care, that kept
His sacred head from harm.
There memory, like the bee, that's fed
From Flora's balmy store,
The quintessence of all he read
Had treasured up before.
LOVE OF THE WORLD REPROVED.
The lawless herd, with fury blind,
Have done him cruel wrong;
The flowers are gone-but still we find
The honey on his tongue.
LOVE OF THE WORLD REPROVED;
THUS says the prophet of the Turk,
Good Mussulman, abstain from pork;
There is a part in every swine
No friend or follower of mine.
May taste, whate'er his inclination,
On pain of excommunication.
Such Mahomet's mysterious charge,
And thus he left the point at large.
Had he the sinful part express'd,
They might with safety eat the rest;
But for one piece they thought it hard
From the whole hog to be debarr'd;
And set their wit at work to find
What joint the prophet had in mind.
Much controversy straight arose,
These choose the back, the belly those;
By some 'tis confidently said
He meant not to forbid the head;
While others at that doctrine rail,
And piously prefer the tail.
Thus conscience freed from every clog,
Mahometans eat up the hog.
You laugh-'tis well-The tale applied May make you laugh on t'other side.
ON THE DEATH OF A BULFINCH.
Renounce the world—the preacher cries.
We do a multitude replies.
While one as innocent regards
A snug and friendly game at cards;
And one, whatever you may say,
Can see no evil in a play;
Some love a concert, or a race;
And others shooting and the chase.
Reviled and loved, renounced and followed,
Thus, bit by bit, the world is swallowed;
Each thinks his neighbour makes too free,
Yet likes a slice as well as he :
With sophistry their sauce they sweeten,
Till quite from tail to snout 'tis eaten.
MRS. (NOW LADY) THROCKMORTON'S BULFINCH.
YE nymphs! if e'er your eyes were red
With tears o'er hapless favourites shed,
O share Maria's grief!
Her favourite, even in his cage,
(What will not hunger's cruel rage?)
Assassined by a thief.
Where Rhenus strays his vines among,
The egg was laid from which he sprung,
And though by nature mute,
Or only with a whistle blest,
Well-taught he all the sounds express'd
Of flagelet or flute.