EPIGRAM.

WRITTEN IN A SEAT IN MR. BAMPFYLDE'S WOODS AT HESTER COMBE, NEAR TAUNTON, SOMERSET, CALLED THE WITCHES' PARLOUR, AND WHICH

COMMANDED THE PROSPECT OF. HIS PLEASURE GROUNDS.

BY THE LATE REV. DR. LANGHORNE,

O'ER Bampfylde's wood by Nature's beauties grac'd, A Witch prefides-but then that Witch is TASTE.

OBSERVATLON OF AN INDIAN, ON SEEING A VERY YOUNG MISS WITH A MOOP PETTICOAT.

AN artlefs Indian through the town,
In fearch of fights, walked up and down;
Each object filled him with furprize;
At length hoop-coats attract his eyes;
What fight is here! he said, and smil'd;

A

very infant fure with child!

EPIGRA M.

ON MR. PITT'S BEING PELTED BY THE MOB ON

LORD MAYOR'S DAY, 1785.

THE city feaft inverted here we find,

For Pitt had his DESERT before he DIN'D.

ON READING DR. JOHNSON'S PRAYERS AND MEDI-
TATIONS.

VIEW'D in the full meridian blaze,
Of Learning's artificial rays,

Johnson feems more than common :
When, like a puritan divine,

We fee him goffop, cant and whine,

The Doctor's an Old Woman.

Sunt lachryma rerum.

ON A BALLOON PURSE.

To make purfes Balloons-is undoubtedly right;
A Balloon is my Purfe, for 'tis frequently light;
When 'tis full, how I mount-how I foar in the skies-
How I spurn all below-how I earth-worms defpife-
How rapid I fly through the regions of air!-
But when empty, I fink-over-whelm'd with defpair!
CUPID's

CUPID's BOW STRING,

I.

WITH filken cords the bards of old,

The little Urchin's bow have ftrung;
But modern bards full better told,
When it with hair they now have hung.-

H.

In filken bonds, the maid, 'tis faid,

Her lover ftill retains at call;

But without hair I'm fore afraid,

Love's arrow now would often fall,

III.

When maids in filken locks are dreffed,
'Tis long and lank, the spring is gone ;
And Cupids dart, tho' ftrong at first,
From it too foon the force is flown.-

IV.

But if with rougher hair they're found,
Which curling up retains it's force;
"Twill stretch and spang, and curl again,
And Cupid's dart will fit of course.-

Dulce eft decipere in loco.

F 4

Z.

IMPROMPTU,

IMPROMPTU.

BY BISHOP ATTERBURY,

N A

CHALLENGE TO THE BISHOP TO DICTATE SOMETHING IN PRAISE OF A GOOSE-QUILL ; FROM DESPISE NOT THE WORTH OF

THE WORDS,

66

THOSE THINGS THAT ARE SMALL."

"The words of the wife man thus preach'd to us all, "Defpife not the worth of those things that are small.”.

THE quill of the Goose is a very flight thing,
Yet it feathers the arrow that flies from the string;
Makes the bird it belongs to, rife high in its flight,
And the jack it has oil'd against dinner go right.
It brightens the floor, when turn'd to a broom,
And brushes down cobwebs at the top of the room;
Its plumage by age into figures is wrought,
Its foft as the hand, and as quick as the thought.
It warms in a muff, and cools in a screen;
It is good to be felt, it is good to be seen.
When wantonly waving, it makes a fine fhow
On the creft of the warrior, or hat of the beau.
The quill of the goofe (I fhall never have done,
If thro' all its perfections and praises I run)

Makes

Makes the harpfichord vocal, which elfe would be

mute,

And enlivens the found, the sweet sound of the flute;
Records what is written in verfe or in profe,
By Ramfay, by Cambray, by Boyle, or Defpreaux.
Therefore well did the wife man thus preach to us
19

all

"Defpife not the worth of thofe things that are fmall."

E PITA PH

ON JOHN HEWITT, ESQ.

LATE PURSE-BEARER TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR OF IRELAND, (WRITTEN AT THE DESIRE OF A LADY WHO WISHED TO PRESERVE A PICTURE

OF HIM.)

HERE Fat Jack reclines-and there's no one will

rue it

What, Jack Falftaff! no, no, his great brother, Jack Hewitt!

An eight bottle toper, where claret was fine,

And wherever it was he'd affuredly dine.

Tho' the sweets of the vintage he highest respected, Each dish at the table he never neglected.