THE LAST DAY. EXTRACT FROM A MANUSCRIPT POEM. HE day of Doom, the all-important day, Tising, that link extreme of time, which joins The measur'd chain of days, and months, and years, Day to the children of the day; but night, Th' Almighty spake heav'n open'd wide her gates. Of awful gloom, from which red lightnings flash'd, High rais'd upon a golden throne emboss'd With gems, that sparkled through the cloud. Angels The earth had never seen a larger host, Than when the foe of Greece spread o'er the land But this was small compar'd with what the heavens The The mundane space all void, had not the trump The earth, convuls'd from her deep centre, heaves. In heaven and earth, breathe through my lines and speak The The coral song: unnumber'd harps of gold, Old ocean heard, and smooth'd his tempest face; There sists the ghastly monarch on his throne. And And crops with chilling hand the bloom of life. When the full sounds spread thro' his darksome realms, His heart appall'd, he trembles on his throne : His iron nerves relax : his sceptre falls. The saints releas'd, their dreary mansions leave: No cumb❜rous load of grosser elements, A DIALOGUE ON LOQUACITY. Enter STEPHEN. Stephen. LADIES and gentlemen, you have prob ably heard of Foote, the comedian: if not, it is out of my power to tell you any thing about him, except this; he had but one leg, and his name was Samuel. Or, to speak more poetically, one leg he had, and Samuel was his name. This Foote wrote a farce, called the Alderman; in which he attempted to ridicule a well-fed magistrate of the city of London. This last, hearing of the intended affront, called upon the player, and threatened him severely for his presumption. Sir, says Foote, it is my business to take off people. You shall see how well I can take myself off. So out of the room he went, as though to prepare. The Alderman sat waiting, and waiting, and waiting, andI have forgotten the rest of the story; but it ended very comically. So I must request of you, to muster up your wit, and each one end the story to his own liking, You are all wondering what this story leads to. Why, I'll tell you; Foote's farce was, called the Alderman, ours is called the Medley; his was written according to rule, ours is composed at loose ends. Yet loose as it is, you will find it made up, like X 2 all all other pieces, of nouns, pronouns, verbs, participles, adverbs, conjunctions, articles, adjectives, prepositions, and interjections. Now, words are very harmless things; though I confess that much depends upon the manner of putting them together. The only thing to be settled is, that, if you should dislike the arrangement, you will please to alter it, till it suits you. Enter TRUMAN. Truman. What are you prating about, at such a rate? Steph. I am speaking of Sam Foote, and prepositions, and adverbs, and many other great characters. Tru. Now don't you know, that your unruly tongue will be the ruin of you? Did you ever see a man who was foaming and frothing at the mouth as you are, that ever said any thing to the purpose? You ought always to think before you speak, and to consider well to whom you speak, and the place and time of speaking. Steph. Pray who taught you all this worldly wisdom? Tru. My own experience, Sir; which is said to be the best school-master in the world, and ought to teach it to every man of common sense Steph. Then, do not imagine that you possess any great secret. Keep your tongue between your teeth" is an old proverb, rusted and crusted over, till nobody can tell what it was first made of. Prudence, indeed, teaches the same. So prudence may teach a merchant to keep his vessels in port for fear of a storm at sea. But nothing venture, nothing have" is my proverb. Now, suppose all the world should adopt this prudence, what a multitude of mutes, we should have! There would be an end of news, law-suits, politics, and society. I tell you, Sir, that busy tongues are like main springs they set every thing in motion. Tru. But where's a man's dignity, all this time, while his tongue is running at random, without a single thought to guide it? Steph. His dignity! that indeed! Out upon parole, where it ought to be. A man's dignity! as though we came into the world to support dignity, and by an affected |