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Stella's cres, and air, and face,

Nor can I hope thy flken chain Charm with undiminish'd

grace.

The glittering vagrants shall restrain.
If on her we fie duplay'd

Whi, Stclla, vas it then decrted,
Perda't gems, and rich brocade;

The heart once caught ihould ne'er be freed? lf her chirtz with le, expence Flows in easy megligence; Still the lights the coucious flame,

To Lyce, an elderly Lady. Dr. Jomxi Sivil her charms a: pear the same; If the strikes the local stings,

Yenymphs whom starry rays inreli,

By Hattering pocts given, If thc's filcnt, fpeaks, or bugs,

Who shine by lavish lovers drest
If the fit, or if the moic,

In all the pomp of heaven;
Still we love, and still approve.
Vain te casual, traufient glance,

Engross not all the beams on high
Which alo.de can pletfe by chance,

Which gild a lover's lays; Bauty which depends on art,

But, as your sister of the sky, Changing with the changing art,

Let Lyce share the praite. Which domards the toilit's aid,

Her filier locks display the moon, Pendant guins, and rich brocade.

Her brows a cloudy show; I those charms alone can prize

Strip'd rainbows round her eyes are seen, Which tron conftant nature rise,

And thow'rs from either fior. Which nor circunfance nor drets

Her tecth the night with darkucis dýcs, E'cr can make or more or los,

She's stari'd with pimpies o'er ;

Her tongue like nimlie lightning plies, The l'unit of licz?th. Dr. JOHNSON

And can with thunder roar. NO more, thus bonding oʻer von heap, But some Zclinda, while I fing, With Avarice pintul vigils keep;

Denies my Lyce shines; Still unenjoy'd the prefent store,

And all the pens of Cupid's wing Suili endlets lghs are breath'd for more.

Attack my gentle lines. ( quit the shadow, catch the prize Which not all India's treasure buus !

Yet spite of fair Zelinda's eye, To purchase heaven has gold the pow'r ?

And all her bards express, Can gold remove the mortal lour?

My Lyce makes as good a sky,
In life can love be bought with gold?

And I but flatter less.
Are friendthip's pleasures to be told ?
.No all that's worth a with, a thought,
Fair virtue gives unbrib'd, unbougiit.

Epitaph on Sir Thomas Hanmer. Dr. Jonnor, Ccalc then on trash thy hopes to bind,

THOU who furvey'it thefe walls with cuma Let nobler views engage thy mind. With science tread the wondrous way,

Pause at this tomb where Harmer's asbes je

: Or learn the Muses' moral lay ;

His various worth through varied life attend, In focial hours indulge thy foul,

And learn his virtues while thou nourn'it his end Where inirth and temperance mix the bowl;

His force of genius burn 'd in early you'h To virtuous love refign thy breast,

With thirit of knowledge, and with love of urazit And be, bv bleiling beauty, bleft.

His learning, join'd with cach endearing at, Thus taíte the feast by nature spread,

Charm'd ev'ry car, and gain d on ev'ry heari

, Ere youth and all its joys are fled ;

Thus early wise, th endanger'd realm to ask Come talte with me the balm of life,

His country call'd him from the studious thate; Secure from pomp, and wealth, and strife.

In life's firit bloom his public roils began, I boast whate'er for man was meant,

At once cominenc'd the senator and man. In health, and Stella, and content ;

In business dext’rous, weighty in devate, And scorn (o let that icorn be thiae!)

Thrice ten long ycars he labour'd for the late; More things of clay that dig the mine.

In every speech perfuafive wildom flou'd

, In every act retuigent virtue glow'd; Suspended faction ceas'd from rage and frife

, TO Tils on her giving the Author a To hear his eloquence, and praiti his life

. Golú and Silk Net-work Purje of ber ozun queav- Renftlufs merit fix'd the Senate's choice, ing.

Dr. Johnson. Who hail'd him Sistaker with united voice. T HOUGH gold and silk their charms unitc

Hlustrious age! how bright thy glories thene, To make thy curious web delight,

When HANMER Aild the chair--and Axme LE In vain the varied work would thine

thronc ! If wrought by any hand but thine,

Then when dark arts obscur'd each fierce de Thy hand that kvows the fubtler art

bate, To wcave thosc nets that catch the heart. When mutual frauds perplex'd the marc of date, Spread out by ne, the roving coin

The Moderator firmly mild appear d, Thy nets may catch, but not contine;

Beleid vyith love, with veneration heard.

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This task perform’d, he fought no gainful pos, Of painful Pedantry the poring child, Nor with'd to glitter at his country's coit; Wno turns of thefe proud doines in historic page,' Strict on the right be fix'd bis ftcadiaft cye, Now funk by Tiine, and Henry's fiercer rage. With temperate zcal, and wife anxiety ;

Think'it thou the w.urbliing buius never imid Nor e'cr froin Virtue's piths was lurd afile, On his lone hours ? genaues vie is ergare To pluck the flow'rs of plcalure or of pride. His thought on theires unclat’ic fulfily ityi'd, Her gifts de pis’d, Corruption bluth d and feel; Intent. Wale ciotter'd Pitty displays And Fame pursued him where Conviction Icd. Her mouldering roii, the piercing eye explores

Age call'd at length his active inind to rest, New manners, and the pomp of esce days, Witi honors fated, and with cares oppreft ; Whence culls the peutive bard his picturd To letter'd cafe rerir'd, and honest inirth,

ftores. To rural grandeur and domestic worth : Nor rough nor barren are the winding ways Delighted itill to please mankind, or mend, Of huar Antiyu!ry, but ftrewn witi slow'rs. The patriot's fire yet sparkled in the friend. Calm Conícience then his former life survey'd,

Wiitsei a! Soib. ???. And recollected toils endeard the thade;

THOU novoleti monument of salbion's ille ! Till Nature cali'd hun to the general doom,

Whether, by Merlin's aid, from Scythia's And Virtuc's forrow dignilicd nis tomb.

Borc
To Amber's fatul plain Pendragora bore,

Huge frame of giant hairds, the mizhty pile, SONNETS WARTON.

T encomblis Britons lain by Acryin's guilco: 1Vritten at Infade in Humplinire. Or Druid priefis, iprinkid with human gorc, WYNSLADE, thy, beech-capt hills, with Taught mid thy maily maze their mritic lure : waving grain

Or Danish chiefs, wich'd with ava se spoil, Mantled, thy chequer'd views of wood and lawn, To Victory's idul vatt, an unheun thrine, Whilom could charm, or when the gradual Rear's the rude heup:or, in thy hallow'dround, dawn

Repose he kings oj Brutus'

genuine line; 'Gan the grey mist with orient purple stain, Or here the kings in Toleon itale were Or Evening glimmer'd o'er the folded trai:) :

crown'd: Her fairett landıkips whence my Mule has Studious to trace thy wondrous origin, diawn,

We muse on many an ancient tal renown'd. Too free with servile courtly phrase to fawn, Too weak to try the buíkin's Ititely strain.

I!" en aller facing 1!ilton-Houle. Yet now no more thy flopes of beech and corn, FROM Pembroke's punciy dome, ivhere mihe far distant

mc Ait With whom I truc'd their sweets at eve and

Decks with a magic hand the dazzling bow'rs, morni,

Its living us where the warm pencil pours, From Albion far, to cull Ilcsperian bays; And breathing forn: fra in the inde marblü start, In this alone they please, hosvc'er forlorn), How to lite's humbler one can I dedit That ftill they can recal thote happier days. My break all glowing from theic gorgeous

tov'ry, On Bathing

In my low cell how cheactie fulien hours? WHEN late the trees wäre stript by winter Vain the complaint: for fascy can impart pale,

(To Fate tujerier, and to fótune's doen) Young Hсalih, a dryad-maid in vesture

Il'hate'ir dun tie tartly-to:icà l'ail:

green, Or like the forest's filver-quiver'd queen,

She, mid the dungeon's tulirary 11, On airy uplands met the piercing gale;

Can drets the Graces in their stric pall: Ani, ere its earliett echo ihor k the vale, Bid the green landscape's vernal beauty bloom; Watching the hunter's joyous horn was scen.

And in brig'it trophics clothe the twiligat wall.
But since, gay-thrond in Tiery chariot sneen,
Summer has imate each daisy-dappled dale;

To Mr. Grry.
She to the cave retires, Irigh-arch'd beneath
The fount that lavcs proud Ilis' tow'red brim:

NOT that her blooms are niark'd with beauty's And now all glad the temperate air to breathe, My rustic Muse her votive chaplet brings ;

While cooling drops diul from arches dim, Untecn, unheard, o Gray, to the the lings! Binding her dewy locks with fudgy wreath, While flowiy-pacing throuyh the church-yard She sits amid the quire of Naiads triin.

dew,

At curfew-time, beneath the dark-green vew, Writion in a Blank Leaf of Dugdale's Monafticon. Thy pentive genius strikes the moral firings; DER EEM not devoid of elegance the tage, Or, borne fublime ou Inspiration's wings,

By Fancy's genuine feelings unbeguild, Hears Cambria's bards devote the drcadtul clue

* One of the bardish traditions about Stonehenge.

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Of Edward's race, with murthers foul defil'd:
Can aught my pipe to reach thine car ellay?

Tv Old Cheesca

King.
No, bard divine! For many a care beguil'd
By the sweet magic of thy foothing lay,

YOUNG Slouch the farmer had a jolly wife,

That knew all the conveniences of life,
For many a raptur d thought, and vision wild, Whofe diligence and cleanliness supplied
To thee this firain of gratitude I pay.

The wit which Nature had to him denied:
But then she had a tongue that would be heard,

And make a better man than Slouch afcard.
Sonnet.

This made cenforious persons of the town WHILE summer-funs o’er the guy prospect Say, Slouch could hardly call his fou! his cute; play'd,

For, if he went abroad too much, the’d uie
Through Surry's verdant scenes where Epsom To give him slippers, and lock up his bres.
spreads,

Talking he lov'd, and ne'er was more afflicted
'Mid intermingling elms, her flow'ry meads ; Than when he was disturbid or contradi@ed;
And Hascombe's hill, in tow'ring groves array'd, Yet still into his story the would break
Rear'd its romantic steep-with mind serene With-" 'Tis not lo; pray give me leave to
I journey'd blythe. Full pensive I return'd;

“ speak.”
For now my breast with hopeless passion burn'd: His friends thought this was a tyrannic rule

, Wet with hoar mists appear'd the gaudy scene Not dif"ring much from calling of him foct;

Which late in careless indolence I pats'd; Told him he must cxert himself, and be

And Autumn all around thote hues had cast In fact the master of his family.
Where paft delight my recent grief might trace. He said, “That the next Tuesday noon world
Sad change! that Nature a congenial gloom

66 shew
Should wear, when mofi, my cheerless mood to " Whether he were the lord at home or no;
chiare,

“ When their good company he would entrear I with'd her green attire, and wonted bloom! “ To well-brew'd ale, and clean if home.

" meat."

With aching heart home to his wife he goudy On King Arthur's Round Table at Winchefter.

And on his knees does his rash act disclose; WHERE Venta's Norman castle fill uprears

And

prays dear Sukey, that, one day at leaft, Its rafter'd hall, that o'er the grafiy foss,

He might appear as master of the feast. And scatter'd finty fragments, clad in mols,

Ill grant your wish,” cries the, “ that you On yonder steup in naked state appears ;

may

fce High-hung remains, the pride of warlıke years,

“ 'Twere wisdom to be govern d fill by me." Old Arthur's Board : on the capacious round

The guetts upon the day appointed came, Some British pen has sketch d the names re- Each bowry farmer with his timp'ring dame, nown'd,

Ho, Suc!" cries Slouch, "why doit not thou In marks obscure, of his immortal

appear? Though joind by magic kill, with many a rime, “ Are these thy manners when aunt Snap is The Druid frame unhonour'd falls a prey

66 here?" To the flow rengeance of the wizard Time,

I pardon aik," says Suc; “ I'd not offend And fade the British characters away ; Yet Spenser's page, that chants in verse íublime

Slouch by his kiitman Grunts had been taught Thole chiefs, ihall live unconscious cf decay.

To entertain his friends with finding fault,

And make the main ingredient of his treat
To the River Lodon.

His laying– There was nothing fit to eat:

“The boild Pork stinks, the roast Beef 's not AH! what a wars race my feet have run, “ , Since first I trod thy banks with alders - The Bacon's rusty, and the Hens are part

crown'd, And thought my way was all through fairy

“ And thus I buy good meat for sluts to fpoii

. girund,

“ 'Tis we are the fir! Slouches ever late Bencath rhy azure sky, and golden sun: Wiere fict my music to lisp her notes begun !

“ W'at Tecth or stomach 's strong enough to While pentive memory traces back the round

66 feed Which olis the varied interval between, Much pleafure, more of sorrow, marks the scene.

“Why mult old Pidgeons, and they diale, be
Swect native liruam! thote: thics and suns so pure 66 diell,
No more return, to cheer my evening road!

Yet still one joy remains, that not obscure
Nor use iets all my vacanzt days hare flow'd,
From youth's gły dawn to manhood's prime

mature;
Nor with the Muse's laurel unbestow'd.

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Any my dear invites, much less his friend."

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The Veal's all rags, ihe Butter 's turn'd in id;

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“ Down to a Pudding without Plums or Fat.

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“Upon a Goose my Grannum kept to breed:

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" When there's so many lquab ones in the neli;
" This Beeris four; 'tis muts, thick, and ftale,
- And worse than anything except the Ale."

Sue all this while many excutes made ,
Some things The own'd; at other times she laid
The fault on chance, but

oft 'ner on the maid.

Tla

a

66

ye?”

my Dear:

Then Cheese was brought. Says Slouch—"This “ Excuse me, Virgin Mary, that I swear“e'en shall roll;

.6 As for Loretto, I shall not get there : I'm sure 'tis hard enough to make a Bowl: “ No ! to the Devil my linful foul must go, “ This is Skim-milk, and therefore it shall

go;

“ For damme if I ha'nt lost ev'ry toe, And this, because 'tis Suffolk, follow too.

“ But, brother finner, do explain But now Sue's paticnce did begin to waste; “ How 'tis that you are not in pain; Nor longer could diflimulation last.

“ What Pow'r hath work'd a wonder for your “ Pray let me rite,” lays Suc, “my dear; I'll find

toes; A Checle perhaps may be to Lovy's mind.” “ Whilft I just like a snail am crawling, Then in an entrye standing close, where he “ Now swearing, now on faints devoutly bawling, Alone, and none of all his friends, might lec; “ Whilft not a raical comes to ease my woes ? And brandishing a cudgel he had felt,

“ How is't that you can like a greyhound 39, And far enough on this occafion fmelt

Merry, as it that nought had happen'd, burn “I'll try, my jog,” she cried, “ if I can please “ My dearest with a taste of his Old Cheele!” Slouch turn'd his head, law his wife's vigorous

Why,” cried the other, grinning, “ you must

know, hand

“ That just before I ventur'd on my journey, Wielding her oaken sapling of command,

" To walk a little more at eale, Knew well the twang —"Is't the Old Cheese,

“ I took the liberty to boil my peas.”

["I'll swear, “ No need, no need of Cheese,” cries Slouch; “ I think I'vedin'd as well as my Lord Mayor!”

A Country Baumpkin and Razor-feller.

PETER PINDAR. The PILGRIMS and ibe Peas. A true Story. A

FELLOW in a market town,
PETER PINDAR. Most musical, cried razors up and down,

And offer'd twelve for eighteen pence; A

BRACE of finners, for no good,
Were order'd to the Virgin Mary's Mhrine,

Which certainly seem'd woundrous cheap,

And for the money quite a heap,
Who at Loretto dwelt, in wax, stone, wood,
And in a fair white wig look'd wondrous fine.

As ev'ry man would buy, with cash and sense. Fifty long iniles had tholi fad rogues to travel

A country bumpkin the great offer heardWith something in their hoës much woric than Poor Hodge—who suffer'd by a broad black beard,

That fecm'd a fhoc-bruih ftuck beneath his grave;

nole : In short, their toes fo gentle to amuse,

With cheerfulness the cighteen pence he paid, The priett had order à peas into their shoes : A noftum famous in old Popith times

And proudly to himself in whispers faid,

“ This rascal stole the razors, I suppole.” For purifying fouls that Itunk with crimes; A fort of apoftolic falt,

“ No matter if the fellow be a knave; That Popith parfons for its pow’rs cxalt “ Provided that the razors shave, For keeping fouls of finners sweet,

“ It certainly will be a monstrous prize :" Just as our kitchen falt keeps mieat.

So home the clown with his good fortune went, The knaves set off on the same day,

Smiling in heart and soul content, Peas in their shoes, to go and pray ;

And quickly soap'd himtelf to ears and eyes. But very diff'rent was their speed, I wot: Being well lather'd from a dish or tub, One of the finners gallop'd on

Hlodge now began with grinning pain to grub, Light as a bullet from a gun;

Just like a hedger cutting furze: The other limp’d as if he had been sot.

'Twas a vile razor!-then the reft he tried Ose faw the Virgin foon-peccavi cried

All were impostors~" Ah!" Hodge figh'd, Had his fool whitewath'd ali so clever;

“ I with my cighteen pence within my purse." Then homme again he nimbly hied,

In vain to chase his bcard, and bring the graces, Made fit with faints above to live for ever. Fie cut, and dug, and winc'd, and Itamp d, and

fivore: In coming back, however, let me fiy, He met his brother rogue, about half way,

Brought blood, and danc'd, blafphem'd, and made Houblingwithoutitretch'd bumandbending knees, Damning the fouls and bodies of the pub;

And curs'd each razor's body o'er and o’cr. His eyes in tears, hvis cheeks and brows in sweat, His MUZZLE, forrd of opposition stuff, Deep fynpathizing with his groaning fact. Firm as a Foxite, would not lose its ruit; “ How nowy," the light-tocd, whitewath'd pilgrim Hodge, in a pation, tretch'd his angry jaws:

So kept it-laughing at the steel and suds : broke, “ You lazy lubber:"

Vowing the direft vengeance, with clench'd claws, “ Odds curie it !" cried the other, “ 'tis no joke :

On the vile CHEAT that sold the goods. “ My fect, once hard as any rock,

“ Razors !-a damn'd, confounded dog !-" Are now as soft as siubber,

“ Noi fit to scrape a hog I"
24

Hodge

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“ Giving my

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6 Qui non moderabitur irae,
“ Infectum volt efte, dolor quod fuaferis et moos,
"Lum puenas odio per vim feit nat inultu."

HOR.

Hodge fought the fellow, found him, and begun-With teeth and claws his skin he tore,
“ P’rhaps, Master Razor-rogue, to you ’ris fun, And stuff d himself with human gore.
“ That people flay themselves out of their At last, in manners to excel,
" lives :

Untruss d a point, some authors tell. You rafcal! for an hour have I been grubbing, But now what rhetoric could assuage

scoundrel whiskers here a scrubbing, The furious squire, stark mad with rage ? “ W'ih razors just like oyster knives. Impatient at the foul disgrace “ Sirrah! I tell you, you're a knave,

From infect of so mean a race, “ To cry up razors that can't fbave.''

And plotting vengeance on his foe, “ Friend," quoth the razor-man,

With double fist he aiins a blow : « kuave.

The nimble Ay escap'd by flight, “ As for the razors you have bought,

And skipp'd from this unequal fight. “ Upon my soul I never thought

Th’impending stroke with all its weight “ That they would shave.

Fell on his own beloved pate.

Thus much he gain’d by this adventurous deed, Not think they'd share !" quoth Hodge, with He fould his fingers, and he broke his head.

wond'ring eyes, And voice not much unlike an Indian yell;

M OR A L. “What were they made for then, you

Let senates hence learn to preserve their state, cries.

And scorn the fool, below their grave debate,
Made!" quoth the fellow, with a smile who by th’unequal strife grows popular ant
" to feil.”

grcat.
Let him buz on, with senseless rant defy

The wise, the good; yet still 'tis but a fly.
The Bald-pated Halbman, and the Fly.

With puny

foes the toil's not worth the cor,
SOMERVILLE. Where nothing can be gain'd, much may be isti:

Let cranes and pigmies in mock-war engage,
A

prey beneath the gen'rous eagle's rage.

Truc honour o'er the clouds sublimely wings; A

SQUIRE of Wales, ivhose blood ran higher Young Ammon scorns to run with less than king,

Than that of any other squire, Hafty and hot; whole previh horour Reveng'd cach flight was put upon her,

The incurious Bencber.

SOMERVILLE
Upon a mountain's top one day
Expos'd to Sol's meridian ray,

AT Jenny Mann's, where heroes meet,
He fuin'd, he rav'ü, he curs'd, he sworc,

And lay their laurels at her feet; Exhald a sea at ev'ry pere;

The modern Pallas, at whose shrine At last, fuch insults to erade,

They bow, and by whose aid they dine: Sought the next tree's protecting shade; Colonet Brocade among the rest Where as he lay diskoiv'd in ficat,

Was ev'ry day a welcome guest. And wip'd off many a rivulct,

One night as carelessly he itood, Off in a pet the beaver files,

Cheering his reins before the fire And flaxen wig, time's beii disguise,

(So ev'ry true-born Briton should), By which, folks of maturer ages

Like that he chaf'd and fum'd with ire. Vic with limooth beaux, and ladies pages: Jenny,” said he, " 'tis very hard, Though 'twas a secret iarrly known,

“That no man's honour can be spar'd; Ill-natur'd aşe had cropp'd his crown, “ If I but fup with Lady Duchels, Grubb'd all the covert up, and now

" Or play a game at ombre, such is A large smooth plain catends his brow.

The malice of the world, 'tis said, Thus as he lay with numékul bare,

Although his Grace lay drunk in bed, And courted the refreshing air,

“ 'Twas î that caus’d his aching head; New perfecutions still appcar,

If Madam Doodle would be witty, A noisy fly offends his car.

“ And I am summond to the city, Alas! what man of parts and sensa

“ To play at blindman's-buff, or fo, Could bear such vile impertinence ?

“ What won't such hellish malice do? Yer, so discourtcous is our fate,

- If I but catch her in a corner, Fools always buz alout the great.

“ Humph! 'tis, Your servant, Colonel Horner: This infect now, whose active spite

“ Bur rot the fineering fops, if e'er Teas'd him with never-ccasing bite,

“ I prove it, it shall cost them dear; With so much judgment play'd his part, so I swear by this deaddoing blade, He had him both in tierce and quart:

“ Dreadful examples shall be made. In vain with open hands he tries

“ What! can't they drink bohea and crcam, To guard his ears, his nose, his eyes;

“ But (dmthem!) I must be their theme? For now at last, familiar grown,

“ Other men's business let alone, He perch'd upon his worship's crown,

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