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Is coming to your homely cot,

Praise bim, arch-angelic band, To call you to a nobler lot;

Ye that in his presence stand; I, Fortune, promise wealth and pow'r,

Praise him, ye that watch and pray,
By way of matrimonial dow'r:

Michael's myriads in array.
Preferment crowns the golden day,
When fair occasion leads the way.'

Praise him, Sun at each extreme,

Orient streak, and western beam;
Thus spake the frail, capricious dame,
When she that sent the message came.--

Moon and stars of mystic dance, *** From first invention's highest sphere,

Silv'ring in the blue expanse. I, queen of imag'ry, appear;

Praise him, O) ye heights that suar And throw myself at Reason's feet,

Heav'n and Heav'n for evermore; Upon a weighty point to treat.

And ye streams of living rill You dwell alone, and are tuo grave;

Higher yet and purer still. You make yourself too much a slave;

Let them praise his glorious name, Your shrewd deductions run a length,

From whose fruitful word they came; 'Till all your spirits waste their strength:

And they first began to be Your fav’rite logic is full close;

As he gave the great decree. Your morals are to much a dose;

Their constituent parts he founds You ply your studies 'till you risk

For duration without bounds; Your senses--you should be more briska

And their covenant has seal'd,
The doctors soon will find a flaw,

Which shall never be repeal'd.
And lock you up in chains and straw.
But, if you are inclin'd to take

Praise the Lord on earth's domains;
The gen'rous offer which I make,

Praise, ye mutes, that sea contains; I'll lead you from this hole and ditch,

They that on the surface leap, To gay conception's top-most pitch;

And the dragons of the deep. To those bright plains, where crowd in swarms

Batt'ring hail, and fires that glow, The spirits of fantastic forms;

Streaming vapours, plumy snow; To planets populous with elves;

Wind and storm, his wrath incuir'd
To natures still above themselves,

Wing’d and pointed at his word.
By soaring to the wond'rous height
Of notions, which they still create;

Mountains of enormous scale,
I'll bring you to the pearly cars,

Every hill and every vale; By dragons drawn, above the stars;

Fruit trees of a thousand dies, To colours of Arabian glow;

Cedars that perfume the skies ! And to the heart-dilating show

Beasts that haunt the woodland maze, Of paintings, which surmount the life:

Nibbling Pocks and droves that graze; At once your tut'ress, and your wife."-

Reptiles of amphibious breed, "Soft, soft,” (says Reason) “ lovely friend;

Feather'd millions form’d for speed.
Tho' to a parley I attend,
I cannot take thee for a mate;

Kings, with Jesus for their guide,
I'm lost, if e'er I change my state.

Peopled regions far and wide; But whensoe'er your raptures rise,

Heroes of their country's cause, l'll try to come with my supplies;

Princes, judges of the laws. To muster up my sober aid,

Age and childhood, youth and maid, What time your lively pow’rs invade;

To his name your praise be paid; To act conjointly in the war

For his word is worth alone
On dulness, whom we both abhor;

Far above bis crown and throne.
And ev'ry sally that you make,
I must be there, for conduct's sake;

Ile shall dignify the crest
Thy correspondent, thine ally;

Of his people, rais'd and blest ; Or any thing, but bind and tye

While we serve with praise and pray'rs,
But, ere this treaty be agreed,

All in Christ his saints and heirs.
Give me thy wand and winged steed:
Take thou this compass and this rule,
That wit may cease to play the fool;
And that thy vot’ries w bo are born
For praise, may never sink to scorn.”

ODE TO LORD BARNARD,

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ON HIS ACCESSION TO THAT TITLE.

Sis licet felix ubicunque mavis,
Et memor nostri.

Hor.

NEW VERSION OF THE PSALMS.

PSALM CXLVIII.

HALLELUJAH! kneel and sing Praises to the heav'nly King; To the Gud supremely great, Hallelujah in the height.

Melromene, who charm'st the skies,

Queen of the lyre and lute,
Say, shall my noble patron rise,

And thou, sweet Muse, be mute?
Shall fame, to celebrate his praise,
Her loudest, loftiest accents raise,

And all her silver trumps employ,

While on the shores the billows beat, And thou restrain thy tuneful hand,

Yet still my grateful Muse is ree, And thou an idle list'ner stand.

To tune ber warmest strains to thee, Amidst the general joy?

And lay them at thy feet. Forbid it, all ye powers above,

Goodness is ever kindly prone That human hearts can try,

To feign what fate denies, Forbid if gratitude and love,

And otbers want of worth t'atone, And every tender tye :

Finds in herself supplies: Was it not he, whose pious cares

Thus dignity itself restrains, Upheld me in my earliest years,

By condescension's silken reins, And cheer'd me from his ample store,

While you the lowly Muse upraise; Who animated my designs,

When such the theme, so mean the bard, In Roman and Athenian mines,

Not to reject is to reward, To search for learning's ore?

To pardon is to praise.
The royal hand, my lor, shall raise

To nobler heights thy name,
Who praises thee, sball meet with praise

ODE TO LADY HARRIOT.
Ennobled in thy fame.
A disposition form’d to please,

To Harriot all accomplish'd fair, With dignity endeard by ease,

Begin, ye Nine, a grateful air; And grandeur in good nature lost,

Ye Graces, join her worth to tell, Have more of genuine desert,

And blazon what you can't excell. Have more the merit of the heart,

Let Flora rifle all her bow'rs, Than arts and arms can boast.

For fragrant shrubs, and painted flow'rs, Can I forget fair Raby's' towers,

And, in her vernal robes array'd, How awful and how great!

Present them to the noble maid. Can I forget such blissful bowers,

Her breath shall give them new perfume, Such splendour in retreat!

Her blushes shall their dyes outbloom; Where me, ev'n me, an infant bard,

The lily now no more shall boast Cleveland 2 and Hope 3 indulgent beard.

Its whiteness, in her bosom lost, (Then, Fame, I felt thy first alarms)

See yon delicious woodbines rise Ah, much lov'd pair !-tho’ one is fled,

By oaks exalted to the skies, Still one compensates for the dead,

So view in Harriot's matchless mind In merit and in charms.

Humility and greatness join'd. O more than compensation, sure !

To paint her dignity and ease, O blessings on thy life!

Form'd to command, and form’d to please, Long may the three-fold bliss endure,

In wreaths expressive be there wove In daughters, sons, and wife!

The birds of Venus and of Jove.
Pope, copyist of her mother's mind,

There where th’immortal laurel grows,
Is loveliest, liveliest of her kind,
Her soul with every virtue teems,

And there, where blooms the crimson rose,

Be with this line the chaplet bound,
By none in wit or worth outdone,
With eyes, that shining on the Sun,

That beauty is with virtue crown'd.
Defy bis brightest beams.
Hark! Charity's cherubic voice
Calls to her numerous poor,

ODE TO THE EARL OF NORTHUM. And bids their languid hearts rejoice,

BERLAND,
And points to Raby's door;
With open beart and open hands,
There, Hospitality-she stands,

IRELAND, PRESENTED ON THE BIRTH-DAY
A nymph, whom men and gods admire,
Daughter of heavenly Goodness she,
Her sister's Generosity,

Whate'er distinguish'd patriots rise, And Honour is her sire.

The times and manners to revise,

And drooping merit raise, What though, my lord, betwixt us lie

The song of triumph still pursues Full many ad envious league,

Their footsteps, and the moral Muse
Sach rast extent of sea and sky,

Dwells sweetly on their praise.
As even the eye fatigue;
Thongh interposing Ocean raves,

It is a task of true delight,
And heaves bis Heaven-assaulting waves, The ways of goodness to recite,

And all her works refin'd;
His lordship's seat in the county of Durham. Thongh modest greatness under rate
Her late grace of Cleveland.

Its lustre; 'tis as fix'd as fate, * The honourable Mrs. Hope.

Says truth with music joird.

ON HIS BEING APPOINTED LORD LIE! TENANT OF

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OF LORD WARKWORTH.

All hail to this auspicious mom,

The parallel will own ; When we, for gallant Warkworth born,

O let our voice and hearts combine, Our gratulations pay :

O let us, fellow warblers, join, Though Virtue all the live-long year,

Our patroness to crown. Refuse her eulogy to hear,

When heavy hung thy flagging wing, She must attend to day.

When thou could'st neither move nor sing. All hail to that transcendant fair,

Of spirits void and rest ; That crown'd thy wishes with an heir,

A lovely nymph her aid apply'd, And bless'd her native land:

She gave the bliss to Heav'n allied, Still shoots thy undegenerate line,

Aud cur'd thee on her breast. Like oak from oak, and pine from pine,

Me too the kind indulgent maid, As goodly and as grand.

With gen'rous care and timely aid, O how illustrious and divine

Restor'd to mirth and health; Were all the heroes of thy line,

Then join'd to her, O may I prove 'Gainst Rome's ambitious cheat!

By friendship, gratitude and love, Born all these base insidious arts,

The poverty of wealth.
Which work the most in weakest hearts,

To dare and to defeat !
Live then in triumph o'er deceit,

MARTI AL. Book 1, Ep. 26.
That with new honours we may greet

WHEN Brutus’ fall wing'd fame to Porcia The house of arms and arts, "Till blest experience shall evince

brought,

(sought.

Those arms her friends conceal'd, her passion How fairly you present that prince, Who's sovereign of our hearts.

She soon perceiv'd their poor officious wiles,

Approves their zeal, but at their folly smiles. In pity to our sister isle

What Cato taught, Heaven sure cannot deny, With sighs we lend thee for a while;

Bereav'd of all, we still have pow'r to die. o be thou soon restor'd,

Theu down her throat the burning coal conveyed, Tho' Stanhope, Hallifax were there,

“Go now, ye fools, and hide your swords," she We never had a man to spare

said. Our love could less afford.

ON A LADY

THROWING SNOW-BALLS AT HER LOVER. TAE SWEETS OF EVENING.

From the Latin of Petronius Ascanius. The sweets of evening charm the mind, Sick of the sultry day;

When, wanton fair, the snowy orb you throw, The body then no more confin'd,

I feel a fire before unknown in snow,
But exercise with freedom join'd,

E'en coldest snow I find has pow'r to warm
When Phæbus sheathes his ray.

My breast, when fung by Julia's lovely arm.

Ti elude love's powerful arts I strive in vain, While all-serene the summer Moon

If ice and snow can latent fires contain
Sends glances thro' the trees,

These frolics leave; the force of beauty prove ; And Philomel Legins her tune,

With equal passion cool my ardent love.
Asteria too shall help her soon

With voice of skilful ease.
A nosegay, every thing that grows,
And music, every sound

FABLES.
To lull the Sun to his repose;
The skies are coloured like the rose
With lively streaks around.

THE WHOLESALE CRITIC AND THE Of all the changes rung by time

HOP MERCHANT.
None half so sweet appear,
As those when thoughts themselves sublime,

FABLE I.
And with superior natures chime

HAL

all to each ancient sacred sbade
In fancy's highest sphere.

Of those, who gave the Muses aid,
Skill'd verse mysterious to unfold,
And set each brilliant thought in gold.

Hail Aristotle's honour'd shrine,
ODE TO A VIRGINIA NIGHTIN- And, great Longinus, hail to thine ;
GALE,

Ye too, whose judgments ne'er could fail,

Hail Horace, and Quintilian hail;
WHICH WAS CIRED OF A FIT IN THE BOSOM OF A And, dread of every Goth and Hun,
YOUNG LADY,
AFTERWARDS

Hail Pope, and peerless Addison.

Alas! by different steps and ways AUTHOR IN A DANGEROUS ILLNESS.

Our modern critics aim at praise, Swert bird! whose fate and mine agree, And rashly in the learned arts, As far as proud humanity

They judge by prejudice and parts;

WHO

NURSED THE

For crampt by a contracted soul,

Shall man to man afford derision, How shou'd they comprehend the whole?

But for some casual divisiou ; I know of many a deep-learn'd brother,

To malice, and to mischief prone, Who weighs one science by another,

From climate, canton, or from zone, And makes 'mongst bards poetic schism,

Are all to idle discord bent, Because he understands the prism;

These Kentish men—those men of Kent; Thinks in acuteness he surpasses,

And parties and distinction make, From knowledge of the optic-glasses.

For parties and distinction's sake. There are some critics in the nation,

Souls sprung from an etherial flame, Profoundly vers'd in gravitation ;

However clad, are still the same ; Who like the bulky and the great,

Nor should we judge the heart or head, And judge by quantity and weight.

By air we breathe, or earth we tread. Some who're extremely skill'd in building, Dame Nature, who, all meritorious, Judge by proportion, form, and gilding,

In a true Englishman is glorious; And praise with a sagacious look

Is lively, honest, brave and bonny, The architecture of a book.

In Monsieur, Taffy, Teague, and Sawney. Soon as the hops arriv'd from Kent,

Give prejudices to the wind, Forth to the quay the merchant went,

And let's be patriots of mankind. Went critically to explore

Bigots, avaunt, sense can't endure ye, The merit of the hops on shore.

But fabulists should try to cure ye. Close to a bag he took his standing,

A snub-nos'd dog to fat inclin'd And at a venture thrust his hand in;

Of the true hogan mogau kind, Then, with the face of a physician,

The favourite of an English dame, Their colour scann’d and their condition ; Mynheer Van Trumpo was his name: He trusts his touch, his smell, his eyes,

One morning as he chanc'd to range, The goods at once approves and buys.

Met honest Towzer on the 'Change; Catchup, so dextrous, droll, and dry,

“ And whom bave we got here, I beg," It happen's Catchup there was by,

Quoth he,--and lifted up his leg; Who like Iago', arch on all,

An English dog can't take an airing, Is Dothing, if not critical.

But foreign scoundrels must be staring. He with a sneer and with a shrug,

I'd have your French dogs and your Spanish, With eye of hawk, and face of pug,

And all your Dutch and all your Danish, Cry'd; “ Pellow, I admire thy fun,

By which our species is confounded, Thou most judiciously hast done,

Be hang'd, be poison'd, or be drowned; Who from ooe handful buyst ten ton.

No mercy on the race suspected, Does it not enter in thy crown,

Greyhounds from Italy excepted : Some may be mouldy, some be brown;

By them my dames ne'er prove big-bellied, The vacancies with leaves supplied,

For they, poor toads, are Farrinellied.
And some half pick'd and some half dry'd ?” Well, of alldogs it stands confess'd,
The merchant, who Tom Catchup knew, Your English bull dogs are the best;
(A merchant and a scholar too)

I say it, and will set my hand to't,
Said, “ What I've done is not absurd,

Cambden records it, and I'll stand to't. I know my chap and take his word.

"Tis true we have too much urbanity, On thee, thou caviller at large,

Somewhat o'ercharg'd with soft humanity; I here retort thy random charge,

The best things must find food for railing, Who, in an hypercritic rage,

And every creature has its failing." Judgest ten volumes by a page;

“ And who are you?” reply'd Van Trump, Whose wond'rous comprehensive view

(Curling his tail upon his rump) Grasps more than Solomon e'er knew;

Vaunting the regions of distraction, With every thing you claim alliance,

The land of party and of faction. Art, trade, profession, calling, science ;

In all fair Europe, who but we, You mete out all things by one rule,

For national economy ; And are an universal fool.

For wealth and peace, that have more charms, Though swoln with vanity and pride,

Than learned arts, or noisy arms? You're but one driv'ller multiplied,

You envy us our dancing bogs, A prig-that proves himself by starts,

With all the music of the frogs;
As many doits—as there are arts.”

Join'd to the Tretchscutz's bonny loon,
Who on the cymbal grinds the tune.

For poets, and the Muses nine,
THE ENGLISH BULL DOG, DUTCH Beyond comparison we shine :
MASTIFF, AND QUAIL.

Oh! how we warble in our gizzards,

With X X's, HI H's and with Z Z's.
FABLE II.

For fighting—now you think I'm joking; Agę we not all of race divine,

We love it better far than smoking. Alike of an immortal line?

Ask but our troops, from man to boy.

Who all surviv'd at Fontenoy. 10, gentle lady, do not put me to't,

'Tis true, as friends, and as allies, For I am nothing if not critical.

We're ever ready to devise;
OrHello, Act, 2, scene 5.

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Our loves, or any kind assistance,
That may be granted at a distance;
But if you go to brag, good bye l' ye,
Nor dare to brave the High and Mighty.”

“Wrong are you both," rejoins a quail,
Confin'd within its wiry jail :
Frequent from realm to realm l've rang'd
And with the seasons, climates chang'd.
Mankind is pot so void of grace,
But good I've found in every place :
I've seen sincerity in France,
Amongst the Germans complaisance ;
In foggy Holland wit may reign,
I've known humility in Spain ;
Free'd was I by a turban'd Turk,
Whose life was one entire good work;
Apd in this land, fair freedom's boast,
Behold my liberty is lost.
Despis'd Hibernia have I seen,
Dejected like a widow'd queen;
Her robe with dignity long worn,
And cap of liberty were torn;
Her broken fife, and harp unstrung,
On the uncultur'd ground were flung 3
Down lay her spear, defild with rust,
And book of learning in the dust;
Her loyalty still blameless found,
And hospitality renown'd :
No more the voice of fame engross'd,
In discontent and clamour lost.
Ah ! dire corruption, art thou spread,
Where never viper rear'd it's head?
And didst thy baleful influence sow,
Where hemlock nor the nightshade grow.
Hapless, disconsolate, and brave,
Hibernia! who'll Hiberpia sare ?
Who shall assist thee in thy woe,
Who ward from thee the fatal blow?
'Tis done, the glorious work is done,
All thanks to Heaven and Hartington.

Let us invert, in thy disguise, That odious nature, we despise." She ceas'd-the sable mantled dame With slow approach, and awful, came ; And frowning with sarcastic sneer, Reproach'd the female rioteer : " That nature you abuse, my fair, Was I created to repair, And contrast with a friendly shade, The pictures Heaven's rich pencil made; And with my sleep alluring dose, To give laborious art repose; To make both noise and action cease, The queen of secresy and peace. But thou a rebel, vile, and vain, Usurp'st my lawful old domain; My sceptre thou affect'st to sway, And all the various hours are day; With clamours of unreal joy, My sister, Silence, you destroy ; The blazing lamp's unnatural light My eye balls weary and affright; But if I am allow'd one shade, Whics no intrusive eyes invade, There all the atrocious imps of Hell, Theft, Murder, and Pollution dwell : Think then how much, thou toy of chance, Thy praise is likely worth tinhance; Blind thing that run'st without a guide, Thou whirlpool in a rushing tide, No more my fame with praise pollute, Bnt damn me into some repute.”

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WHERE'S THE POKER?

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FASHION AND NIGAT.

FABLE III. Quam multa prava atque injusta fiunt moribus.

TERENT. FAShton, a motley nymph of yore, The Cyprian queen to Porteus bore: Various herself in various climes, She moulds the manners of the times ; And turns in every age or nation, The chequer'd wheel of variegation ; True female that ne'er knew her will, Still changing, tho’immortal still, One day as the inconstant maid Was careless on her sofa laid, Sick of the Sun and tir'd with light, She thus invok'd the gloomy Night : “ Come_these malignant rays destroy, Thou screen of shame, and rise of joy, Come from thy western ambuscade, Queen of the rout and masquerade : Nymph, without thee no cards adrance, Without thee halts the loit'ring dance ; Till thou approach, all, all's restraint, Nor is it safe to game or paint ; 'The belles and beaux thy influence ask, Put on the universal mask.

FABLE IV.
The poker lost, poor Susan storm'd,
And all the rites of rage perform'd;
As scolding, crying, swearing, sweating,
Abusing, fidgetting, and fretting.

Nothing but villainy, and thieving;
Good Heavens! what a world we live in?
If I don't find it in the morning,
I'll surely give my master warning,
He'd better far shut up his doors,
Than keep such good for nothing whores ;
For wheresoe'er their trade they drive,
We vartuous bodies cannot thrive.”
Well may poor Susan grunt and groan;
Misfortunes never come alone,
But tread each other's heels in throngs,
For the next day she lost the tongs :
The salt box, cullender, and pot,
Soon shard the same untimely lot.
In vain she rails and wages spent
On new ones—for the new ones went.
There'd been, (she swore) some dev'l or witch ing
To rob or plunder all the kitchen.
One night she to her chamber erept;
(Where for a month she had not slept ;
Her master being, to her seeming,
A better playfellow than dreaming.)
Curse on the author of these wrongs,
In her own bed she found the tongs,
(Hang Thomas for an idle joker!)
In her own bed she found the poker;

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