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6. Caitiffs avaunt ! talk not to me! avaunt !
Shall shugs of demiwolves, and water-rugs,
I come, I come;
High in prowess, high in fame,
66 'Tis Liberty, sweet Liberty alone, (Did'st thou not hear thy dying country's groan?)
Draws me from my native home!
I should live a man forbid;
Did I not waken at her call,
Forsake my children, wife and all,
“ Fancy paints the long-drawn line Where Robert Cobb in pedigrean pomp shall shine;
Children unborn from me shall claim
The honours of their glorious name,
« Sink not, for shame, in sloth's dull lap;
Arise, put on that glorious cap,
what then ? - let's see,
“ Lydd, May 30, 1777. “ It is an unaccountable thing, but I have sent all over the town and cannot get a lemon, and if I have no lemon I can make no punch, and if I make no punch I can make no letter : the thing is absolutely impossible.
been to the Dolphin, James ? Yes, Sir, but they have none; and they say you owe them for two already.' Why, then, I cannot write to Bowdler. O thou gentle goddess of bergamot, (for I suppose thee to be the very essence of lemon,) hover, I beseech thee, around my head, and deign to guide my quill. What, though there smokes not on my board the draught nectarious, high flavoured with the rich product of the western world, and wafted on the wings of Zephyr to our frigid clime, long ere rebellion's tooth had taught the anana not to bloom - what, though I have only to offer thee the blushing juice which Lusitanian hills have ripened, - Well, thou knowest I oft have on thine altar poured the rich libation. Come, then, thou Sapphire-wing', -- but you see it won't do, Bowdler, and so good-night.
- R. C.”
“ How comes it to pass, that you should never have told me of Rowley's Poems ? and how strange is it that I should talk of nothing else for four hours the other day with Miss Carter ?”
Among Mr. Bowdler's companions at this period, was a person mentioned in one of these letters, possessed of considerable poetical talent, and of great taste and power in theatrical declamation. He was bred a solicitor, but being sometimes perhaps inclined to “pen a stanza when he
should engross," he addressed his friend in language suited to the taste of both. Some extracts from a poetical letter may be pleasing.
“ In prose we fearless laugh, and freely pour
To every rhymer in each gazetteer,
66 While * from fam’d Augusta's walls remove, The rural joys of rustick life to prove,
Nor longer studious, seek the noisy bar,
every stream a new meander flow.
“But Cantium — No !- Old English Kent - disdains
With curious eye his antique piles explore -
Already hoary winter, bursting forth, Has left the regions of the dreary North ; Through the brown woods the quivering leaves display His near approach, and point him on his way; And soon, alas ! he'll take his annual round, With horrid step deform the verdant ground, His purple crown shall tear from autumn's head, And o'er the earth his scatter'd honours spread. But here, the drama opes its 'witching doors, And Shakspeare greets me with his richest stores. Here Garrick, Barry, Holland, all combine To stamp new force and spirit on each line. Oh! how I joy to taste his festal hour ! Ev'n now I feel his more than magic pow'r. — Inhuman Thane ! hide, hide the murdering knife ! Nor touch the guest, — the friend, - the monarch's life; But see the dagger leads him to the bed! And now it falls ! - he's number'd with the dead ! What shall the hand its wonted white restore? Not ocean's self — Macbeth shall sleep no more. Amidst the blustering horrors of the night; What forms fantastic strike my aching sight? Inhuman daughters ! - where is pity fled? To the wild storm expose a parents head? But hark! I hear! - Ye winds, O catch the sound, And bear it on your rosy pinions round.Proclaim - the tempest's past, the sky's serene, And virtue crowns Cordelia more than queen.