While genius, which too oft disdains
To bear e'en honourable chains;
(Such as a Sheriff's self might wear,
Or grace the wisdom of a May'r)
Turns rebel to dame REASON's throne
And holds no judgment like his own.

Yet while they spatter mutual dirt,
In idle threats that cannot hurt;
Methinks they waste a deal of time,
Both fool in prose, and fool in rhyme.
And when the angry bard exclaims,
And calls a thousand paltry names,
He doth his critic mighty wrong,
And hurts the dignity of song.

The prefatory matter past The tale, or story comes at last.

A candle stuck in flaring state Within the nozel of French plate, Tow'ring aloft with smoaky light, The snuff and flame of wond'rous height, (For, virgin yet of amputation,

No force had check'd. it's inclination)

Sullen address'd with conscious pride,
The dormant snuffers at it's side.
"Mean vulgar tools, whose envious aim
Strikes at the vitals of my flame,
"Your rude assaults shall hurt no more,
"See how my beams triumphant soar !
"See how I gayly blaze alone

"With strength, with lustre all my

own."

"Lustre, good sir!" the snuffers cried, "Alas! how ignorant is pride!'

"Thy light which wavers round the room, "Shews as the counterfeit of gloom,

"Thy snuff which idly tow'rs so high "Will waste thy essence by and by, "Which, as I prize thy lustre dear "I fain would lop to make thee clear. Boast not, old friend, thy random rays, Thy wasting strength, and quiv'ring blaze, "You shine but as a beggar's link,

"To burn away, and die in stink,

"No merit waits unsteady light,

"You must burn true as well as bright."

Poets like candles are all puffers,

And critics are the candle snuffers..

THE

NEW-RIVER HEAD.

A TALE.

ATTEMPTED IN THE MANNER OF MR. C. DENNIS.

INSCRIBED TO J. WILKES, ESQ.

Labitur & labetur in omne volubilis avum. HOR.

A Genius (one of those I mean,
We read of in th' Arabian nights;

Not such as every day are seen

At Bob's or Arthur's, whilom White's;
For howsoe'er you change the name,
The Clubs and Meetings are the same;
Nor those prodigious learned folks,
Your Haberdashers of stale Jokes,
Who dress them up so neat and clean
For Newspaper or Magazine;

But one that could play wond'rous tricks,
Changing the very course of Nature,
Not ASMODEUS on two sticks

Or sage URGANDA could do greater.)

Once on a time incog came down
From his equivocal dominions,
And travell'd o'er a country town
To try folks tempers and opinions.
When to accomplish his intent

(For had the cobler known the king,
Lord! it would quite have spoil'd the thing)

In strange disguise he slily went

And stump'd along the high-way track,
With greasy knapsack at his back;
And now the night was pitchy dark,
Without one star's indulgent spark,
Whether he wanted sleep or not,
Is of no consequence to tell;
A bed and lodging must be got,
For geniuses live always well..

At the best house in all the town, (It was th' Attorney's you may swear) He knock'd as he'd have beat it down, Knock as you would, no entrance there. But from the window cried the dame, Go, sirrah go, from whence you came. Here, Nell, John, Thomas, see who knocks, Fellow, I'll put you in the stocks.

Be gentle ma'm, the Genius cried;
Have mercy on the wand'ring poor,
Who knows not where his head to hide,
And asks a pittance at your door.
A mug of beer, a crust of bread-
Have pity on the houseless head;
Your husband keeps a lordly table,
I ask but for the offal crumbs,
And for a lodging-barn or stable
Will shroud me till the morning comes.

"Twas all in vain; she rang the bell, The servants trembl'd at the knell; Down flew the maids to tell the men, To drive the vagrant back agen.

He trudg'd away in angry mind, And thought but cheaply of mankind, Till thro' a casement's dingy pane, A rush-light's melancholy ray, Bade him e'en try his luck again; Perhaps beneath a house of clay A wand'ring passenger might find A better friend to human kind, And far more hospitable fare, Tho' not so costly, nice, or rare,