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To show his ancient spleen to Mars,

Recover'd from his first surprise, Fierce Vulcan caught him by the am;

As o'er the wave his head he popp’d, Stuck to his skirts, insatiate varlet !

He saw, but scarce believ'd his eyes. And fed with pleasure on the scarlet.

On the same bank where first he dropp’d, Hard by, and in the corner, sate

Th' imperial lubber lies, A bencher grave, with looks sedate,

Stretch'd at his case, careless, content. Smoking his pipe, warm as a toast,

“ Is this the monarch Jove has sent,' And reading over last week's Post;

Said he,“ our warlike troops to lead ? He saw the foe the fort invade,

Ah, 'tis a glorious prince indeed ! And soon smelt out the breach he made; By such an active general led, But not a word—a little sly

The routed mice our arms shall dread, He look’d, 'tis true, and from each eye

Subdued shall quit their claim : A sidelong glance sometimes he sent,

Old Homer shall recant his lays, To bring him news, and watch th' event.

For us new trophies raise, At lengih, upon that tender part

Singour victorious arms, and justify our fame!" Where honor lodges (as of old

Then laughing impudently loud, Authentic Hudibras has told)

He soon alarm’d the dastard crowd. The blust'ring colonel felt a smart;

The croaking nations with contempt
Sore griev'd for his affronted bum,

Behold the worthless indolent.
Frisk d, skipp'd, and bounc'd about the room: On wings of winds swift scandal Aies,
Then turning short“ Zounds, sir,” he cries; Libels, lampoons, and lies,
“ Pox on him ! had the fool no eyes?

Hoarse treasons, tuneless blasphemies.
What! let a man be burnt alive?"

With active leap at last upon his back they stricke, * I am not, Sir, inquisitive,"

And on the royal loggerhead in triumph ride, Replied Sir Gravity, " to know Whate'er your Honor's pleas'd to do:

Once more to Jove they prayers address’d, If you will burn your tail to tinder,

And once more Jore grants their request;

A stork he sends, of monstrous size,
Pray what have I to do to hinder ?
Other men's business let alone,

Red lightning Aashes in his eyes.
Why should not coxcombs mind their own ?"

Rul'd by no block, as heretofore, Then, knocking out his pipe with care,

The gazing crowds press'd to his court; Laid down his penny at the bar;

Admire his stately mien, his haughty port, And wrapping round his frieze surtout,

And only not adore.

Addresses of congratulation,
Took up his crabtree and walk'd out.

Sent from each loyal corporation,
Somerville.
The Frog's Choice.

Full fraught with truth and sense,

Exhausted all their eloquence. “Ω πόποι, οίον δή νυ Θεούς βροτοί απιόωνται. But now, alas! 'twas night; kings must have Εξ ημεων γάρ φασι κάκ' έμμεναι: οι δε και αυτοί Εφήσιν ατασθαλίησιν υπέρ μόρον άλγι' χουσιν.

The Grand Vizier first goes to pot; In a wild state of nature, long

Three Bassas next, happy their lot! The frogs at random liv'd,

Gain'd Paradise by being eat. The weak a prey unto the strong,

“ And this,” said he, “ and this is mine, With anarchy oppress’d and griev'd.

And this by right divine :"
At length the lawless rout,

In short, 'twas all for public weal,
Taught by their suff'rings, grew devout; He swallow'd half a nation at a meal.
An embassy to Jove they sent,
And begg'd his highness would bestow

Again they beg Almighty Jove
Some settled form of government,

This cruel tyrant to remove.

With fierce resentment in his eyes, A king to rule the fens below.

The frowning Thunderer replies : Jove, smiling, grants their odd request :

“ Those evils which yourselves create, A king, th' indulgent pow'r bestow'd, Such as might suit their genius best :

Rash fools ! ye now repent too late ; A beam of a prodigious size,

Made wretched by the public voice, With all its cumbrous load,

Not through necessity, but choice ! Came tumbling from the skies.

Begone! nor wrest from Heaven some heavier The waters dash against the shore, The hollow caverns roar:

Better bear this, this Stork, than worse.” The rocks return the dreadful sound,

Convulsions shake the ground. The multitude with horror Aed, And in his oozy bed

Oppress'd with happiness, and sick with ease, Each skulking coward hid his head.

Not Heaven itself our fickle minds can please. When all is now grown calm again, Fondly we wish, cloy'd with celestial store, And smoothly glides the liquid plain, The leeks and onions which we loath'd before : A frog more resolute and bold,

Still roving, still desiring, never pleas'd, Peeping with caution from his hold, With plentystarv'd, and e'enwith health diseas'd,

meat :

a

curse :

MORAL.

The Oyster.

a

With partial eyes each present good we view,

Ode. Thomson.
Nor covet what is best, but what is new.
Ye pow’rs above, who make mankind your care,

Tell me, thou soul of her I love,
To bless the supplicant, reject his pray'ı!

Ah! tell me whither art thou fled?
To what delightful world above,

Appointed for the happy dead?
SOMERVILLE. Or dost thou free at pleasure roam,
In jus

And sometimes share the lover's woe; Acres

Where, void of thee, his cheerless home procurrunt, magnum spectaculum

Can now, alas! no coin fort know? uterque.

Hor. Two comrades, as grave

O! if thou hov'rest round my walk, authors

say (But in what chapter, page, or line,

While, under every well-known iree, Ye critics, if ye please, define),

I to thy fancied shadow talk, Had found an oyster in their way.

And every tear is full of thee: Contest and foul debate arose :

Should then the weary eye of grief, Both view'd at once with greedy cycs,

Beside some syn pathetic strean,
Both challeng'd the delicious prize,

In slumber find a short relief,
And high words soon improv'd to blows. O visit thou my soothing dream!
Actions on actions hence succeed,
Each hero's obstinately stout,

On Time. Axox.
Green bags and parchments fly about,
Pleadings are drawn, and counsel fee'd. E'en while the careless, disencumber'd soul
The parson of the place, good man!

Sinks all dissolving into pleasure's dreain, Whose kind and charitable heart

E'en then to Time's tremendous verge we roll In human ills still bore a part,

With headlong laste aloog life's surgy streamu. Thrice shook his head, and thus began : Neighbours and friends, refer to me

Can gaiety the vanish'd years restore, This doughty matter in dispute,

Or on the withering limbs fresh beauty shed,

Or soothe the sad, inevitable hour,
I'll soon decide th' important suit,
And finish all without a fee.

Or cheer the dark, dark mansions of the lead? Give me the oyster then-'tis well"

Ah! beauty's bloom avails not in the grase, He opens it, and at one sup

Youth's lofty mien, nor age's astui yrace: Gulps the contested trifle

up,

Moulder alike unknown the prince and slare, And smiling, gives to each a shell.

Whelm'd in th' enormous wreck of hunga « Henceforth let foolish discord ccasc,

race!
Your oyster's good as c'er was eat;
I thank

you
for

The thought-fix'd portraiture, the breathing dainty treat;

my God bless you both, and live in peace.”

bust, The arch with prond memorials array'd, The long-liv'd pyramid, shall sink in dist

,

To dumb oblivion's ever-desert shade. Ye men of Norfolk and of Wales,

Vyter.
From this learn common sense;
Nor thrust
your neighbours into jails

Who fed me from her geuile breast,
For ev'ry slight offence.

And hush'd me in her arms 10 rest,
Banish those vermin of debate

And on my cheek sweet kisse's prest?
That on your substance feed;
The knaves who now are serv'd in plate When sleep sorsook my opa! eve,
Would starve, if fools agreed,

Who was it sung sweet lullatis,

And rock'd mne that I should not cry?
Epitaph on Miss Basnet, in St. Pancras
Church-yard,

Who sat and watch'd my infant head,

When sleeping on my cradle bed,
Go, spotless Honor, and unsullied Truth ; And tears of sweet aflection shed ?
Go, smiling Innocence and blooming Youth ;
Go, female Sweetness, join'd with manly Sense; When pain and sickness made me cry,
Go, winning Wit, that never gave offence;

Who gaz'd upon my heavy eye,
Go, soft Humanity, that bless'd the

poor;

And wept for fear that I should dic?
Go, saint-eyed Patience, from A Miction's door;
Go, Modesty, that never wore a frown ;
Go, Virtue, and receive thy heavenly crown. Who drest my doll in clothes so gay,
Not froin a stranger came ihis heart-felt verse; And taught me pretly how to play,
The friend inscribes thy tomb whose tears be. And minded all I had to say?

dew'd thy hearse.

a

MORAL.

My Mother

My Nether.

My Voter.

My Mother

Niy voltar

to see,

Who ran to help me when I fell,

Who with him the Wasp, his companion, did And would some pretty story tell,

bring,

[sting. Or kiss the place to make it well?

But they promis'd that evening to lay by their

My Mother. And the sly little Dormouse crept out of his Who waught my infant lips to pray,

hole,

Mole. To love Gol's holy Word and day,

And brought to the feast his blind brother, the And walk in ll'isdom's pleasant way? And the Snail, with his horns peeping out of

My Mother.

his shell, And can I ever cease to be

[an ell.

Came from a great distance, the length of Affectionate and kind to thee,

A mushroom their table, and on it was laid Who wast so very kind to me,

A water-dock leaf, which a table-cloth made.

My Mothers Oh no! The thought I cannot bear,

The viands were various, to each of their taste, And, if God please my life to spare,

And the Bee brought her honey to crown the I hope I shall reward thy care,

repast.

My Mother. Then close on his haunches, so solemn and When thou art feeble, old, and

grey,
wise,

[skies. My healthy arm shall be thy stay,

The Frog from a corner look'd up to the And I will soothe thy pains away,

And the Squirrel, well plcas'd such diversions My Mother.

[from a tree. And when I see thee hang thy head,

Mounted high over head, and look'd down Twill be my turn to watch thy bed,

Then out came the Spider, with finger so fine, And tears of sweet affection shed,

To shew his dexterity on the tight line.
My Mother.

From one branch to another, his cobwebs he
For God, who lives above the skies,
Would look with vengeance in his eyes,

slung, If I should ever dare despise

Then quick as an arrow he darted along.

But just in the middle,-Oh! shocking to My Mother. tell,

(fell. From his rope, in an instant, poor harlequin The Butterfly's Ball. Roscoz. Come take up your hats, and away let us haste Yet he touch'd not the ground, but with talons To the Butterfly's ball, and the Grasshopper's Hung suspended in air, at the end of a thread.

outspread, feast.

[crew, The trumpeter, Gad-fly, has summond the Then the Grasshopper came with a jerk and a And the revels are now only waiting for

spring,

(his wing; you.

Very long was his leg, though but short was So said little Robert, and pacing along,

He took but three leaps, and was soon ont of His merry companions came forth in a throng.

sight, And on the smooth grass, by the side of a

Then chirp'd his own praises the rest of wood, Beneath a broad oak that for ages had stood,

With step so majestic the Snail did advance,

And promis'd the gazers a minuet to dance. Saw the children of earth, and the tenants of air,

But they all laugh'd so loud that he pull'd in For an erening's amusernent together repair.

his head, And there caine the Beetle, so blind and so

And went in his own little chamber to bed. black,

[back. Then, as evening gave way to the shadows of Who carried the Emmet, his friend, on his

night,

Their watchman, the Glow-worm, came out And there was the Gnat and the Dragon-fly too,

[blue. Then home let us hasten, while yet we can With all their relations, green, orange, and

[me. And there came the Moth, with his plumage For no Watchman is waiting for you and for of down,

(brown; So said little Robert, and pacing along, And the Hornet in jacket of yellow and His merry companions return'd in a throng.

the night.

with a light.

see,

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SONGS, BALLADS, &c. &c.

§ 1. Song. LORD LYTTELTON. SAY, Mira, why is gentle Love

A stranger to that mind, Which pity and esteem can move,

Which can be just and kind?

Is it because you fear to share

The ills that love inolest,
The jealous doubt, the tender care,

That rack the am'rous breast?

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Alas! by some degree of woe

Our paper, pen, and ink, and we, We ev'ry bliss must gain :

Roll up and down our ships at sea, The heart can ne'er a transport know,

With a fa, &c. That never feels a pain.

Then, if we write not by each post,

Think not we are unkind;
Nor yet conclude our ships are lost

By Dutchmen or by wind;
§ 2. Song. Waller.

Our tears we'll send a speedier' way,

The tide shall bring thein twice a day,
Go, lovely rose !

With a fa, &c.
Tell her that wastes her time, and me,
That now she knows,

The king, with wonder and surprise, When I resemble her to thee,

Will swear the seas grow bold; How sweet and fair she seems to be.

Because the tide will higher rise,

Then e'er it did of old :
Tell her that's young,

But let him know it is our tears
And shuns to have her graces spied,

Bring floods of tears to Whitehall stairs,
That hadst thou sprung

With a fa, &c.
In deserts, ere no men abide,
Thou must have uncommended died.

Should foggy Opdam chance to know

Our sad and dismal story;
Small is the worth

The Dutch would scorn so weak a foe, Of beauty, from the light retir'd;

And quit their fort at Goree :
Bid her come forth,

For what resistance can they find
Suffer herself to be desir'd,

From men who've left their hearts behind ? And not blush so to be admir'd.

With a fa, &c.
Then die! that she

Let wind and weather do its worst;
The common fate of all things rare

Be you to us but kind,
May read in thee:

Let Dutchmen vapour, Spaniards curse, How small a part of time they share,

No sorrow we shall find : That are so wondrous sweet and fair.

'Tis then no matter how things go, Or who's our friend, or who's our foe,

With a fa, &c.

To pass our tedious hours away, $ 3. Song. L'Amour Timide. Moore. We throw a merry main;

Or else at serious ombre play; If in that breast, so good, so pure,

But why should we in vain

Each other's ruin thus pursue ? Compassion ever lov'd to dwell,

We were undone when we left you,
Pity the sorrows I endure,

With a fa, &c.
The cause I must not, dare not tell.
That grief that on my quiet preys,

But now our fears tempestuous grow, That rends my heart, that checks my tongue, Whilst you, regardless of our woe,

And cast our hopes away;
I fear will last me all my days,
But feel it will not last me long.

Sit careless at a play:
Perhaps permit some happier man
To kiss your hand, or flirt your fan,

With a fa, &c.
$ 4. Song. Earl of Dorset*.

When any mournful tune you hear,

That dies in ev'ry note ;

As if it sigh'd with each man's care To all you ladies now at land

For being so remote : We men at sea indite ;

Think then how often love we've made But first would have you understand

To you, when all those tunes were play'd, How hard it is to write ;

With a fa, &c.
The Muses now, and Neptune too,
We must implore, to write to you,

In justice you cannot refuse
With a fa la, la, la, la, la.

To think of our distress,

When we for hopes of honor lose
For though the Muses should prove kind, Our certain happiness;
And fill our empty brain;

All those designs are but to prove
Yet if rough Neptune rouse the wind Ourselves more worthy of your love,
To wave the azure main,

With a fa, &c.
Written at sea, the first Dutch war, 1665, the night before an engagement.

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And now we've told you all our loves, For thy faith, which resembled my own, And likewise all our fears;

For thy soul, which was spotless and true, In hopes this declaration moves

For the joys we together have known,
Some pity for our tears ;

Ah, Damon, dear shepherd, adieu !
Let's hear of no inconstancy,
We have too much of that at sea,

What bliss can hereafter be mine?
With a fa, &c.

Whomever engaging I see,
To his friendship I ne'er can incline,

For fear I should mourn him like thee.

Though the muses should crown me with art, § 5. Song. LORD LANSDOWNE. Though honor and fortune should join;

Since thou art denied to my heart,
Why, cruel creature, why so bent

What bliss can hereafter be mine?
To vex a tender heart?
To gold and title you relent;

Ah Dåmon, dear shepherd, farewell!
Love throws in vain his dart.

Thy grave with sad osiers I'll bind; Let glittering fops in court be great,

Though no more in one cottage we dwell, For pay let armies move:

I can keep thee for ever in mind. Beauty should have no other bait

Each morning I'll visit alone

His ashes who lov'd me so well, But gentle vows and love.

And murmur each eve o'er his stone, If on those endless charms you lay

“ Ah Damon, dear shepherd, farewell!" The value that's their due; Kings are themselves too poor to pay, A thousand worlds too few.

$ 8. Song. Moore. But if a passion without vice, Without disguise or art,

HARK! hark ! 'tis a voice from the tomb ! Ah, Celia ! if true love's your price,

Come, Lucy, it cries, come away!
Behold it in my heart.

The
grave

of my Colin has room
To rest theě beside his cold clay.

I come, my dear shepherd, I come; $ 6. Song. Sir Car Scroope..

Ye friends and companions, adieu !

I haste to my Colin's dark home, One night, when all the village slept,

To die on his bosom so true. Myrtillo's sad despair

All mournful the midnight bell rung, The wretched shepherd waking kept,

When Lucy, sad Lucy, arose ; To tell the woods his care : “ Begone,” said he, fond thoughts, begone!

And forth to the green turf she sprung,

Where Colin's pale ashes repose. Eyes, give your sorrows o’er!

All wet with the night's chilling dew, Why should you waste your tears for one

Her bosom embrac'd the cold ground; Who thinks on you no more?

While stormy winds over her blew, “ Yet, O ye birds, ye flocks, ye pow'rs

And night-ravens croak’d alt around.
That dwell within this grove,
Can tell how many tender hours

How long, my lov'd Colin, she cried,
We here have pass’d in love!

How long must thy Lucy complain? Yon stars above (my cruel foes)

How long shall the grave my love hide? Have heard how she has sworn,

How long ere it join us again? A thousand times, that, like to those,

For thee thy fond shepherdess liv’d, Her flame should ever burn!

With thee o'er the world would she fly;

For thee has she sorrow'd and griev'd, « But since she's lost, О let me have

For thee would she lie down and die.
My wish, and quickly die!
In this cold bank I'll make a grave,

Alas! what avails it how dear
And there for ever lie:

Thy, Lucy was once to her swain !

Her face like the lily so fair,
Sad nightingales the watch shall keep,
And kindly here complain."

And eyes that gave light to the plain!
Then down the shepherd lay to sleep,

The shepherd that lov'd her is gone, But never rose again.

That face and those eyes charm no more ; And Lucy, forgot and alone,

To death shall her Colin deplore.

While thus she lay sunk in despair, $ 7. Pastoral Elegy.

And mourn'd to the echoes around, Ah, Damon, dear shepherd, adieu !

Inflam'd all at once grew the air, By love and first nature allied,

And thunder shook dreadful the ground ! Together in fondness we grew;

I hear the kind call, and obey, Ah, ould we together had died !

O Colin, receive me, she cried :

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