BY A

IM PRO MTU,

GENTLEMAN OF THE TEMPLE, ON THE

SIGHT OF ONE OF THE CROYDON BELLES, IN

THE COURT AT

ASSIZES.

KINGSTON, DURING

THE

WHILST petty offences and felonies fmart, «>
Is there no jurifdiction for stealing the heart?
You, my fair one, may cry "Laws and Court I
defy you;"

Concluding no Peers can be fummoned to try you.
But think not fair Shorey this plea will insure you,
Since the Graces and Mufes will just make a Jury.

TO MR. PITT, ON HIS TAX ON WOMEN.

Why should you try to punish those,

Who never took you in?

May, 1785.

ON

I 4

ON A ROSE.

WHAT beauty has the rofe!

But ah! how foon it flies!

How very fcon it dies!
The life of man thus flows.

While youth and vigour meet,
He revels joyfully;

A few, few years pafs'd by,

He's trodden under feet.

LINES ON THE DEATH OF DR. BURTON, BY THE
PRESENT MASTER OF WINCHESTER.

ADDRESSED TO HIS SCHOLARS.

BATHE not for me, dear youths, your mournful
lays

In bitter tears o'er blooming Beauty's grave
Let Pity wring her hands. I, full of years,
Of honours full, fatiate of life, retire,
Like an o'er-weary'd pilgrim to his home;
Nor at my lofs repine. Yet the last prayer

That

That from my struggling bofom parts shall rife Fervent with you: May Wickham's much-lov'd walls

Be ftill with science, fame, and virtue bleft;
And distant times and regions hail his name!

TRANSLATION OF A GREEK EPIGRAM,

BY MR. TYRWHITT,

ON A TEA-CHEST OF MRS. HEBERDEN'S, MADE OF OLIVE-WOOD, WHICH WAS FOUND AT ATHENS

BY MR. STUART.

IN Attic fields, by fam'd Iliffus flood,

A tree to Pallas facred once I ftood;

Now, torn from thence, with graceful emblems drest, For Mira's tea I form a polish'd chest.

Athens, farewel-nor yet do I repine

For my Socratic fhades and patronefs divine.

THE PRIEST AND DOCTOR.

AN ECLOGUE.

ADDRESSED TO THE ABERGAVENNIANS.

Qui me commorit (melius non tangere clamo)
Flebit, et infignis totà cantabitur urbe.

DINNER was ended, and with gentle fips,
* The porter glided between JOHNNY's lips;
When, with ambition's fiery cares befet,
A reverend Justice, and old PHILO met;
(PHILO, than whom, in this degenerate age,
A fouler rogue ne'er ftain'd the Mufe's page,
Nor JEFFRIES, from all ties of confcience free;
Nor JEFFRIES, P
can compare with thee.)
The wights were met, that W- might allow,
Which was the greater rafcal of the two ;
When thus, their glorious conteft to decide,
The Priest began, and Doctor thus reply'd.

A cuftom lately adopted by that gentleman, of drinking porter after dinner, out of a wine glass,

PRIEST.

PRIEST.

Parent of evil! whofe infernal power
Grinn'd at my birth, and bless'd my natal hour!
If to thy dogmas Arict regard I've paid,
And all thy rites, O. LUCIFER! obey'd,
Affert my caufe! nor let old PHILO boast
Himself the most abandon'd of thy hoft!
So fhall this inftant, (favour but my lays)
My facerdotal ornaments all blaze;

Flame hall thy altars, with unwonted fire,
And outward flow (like inward faith) expire!

DOCTOR.

Hear me too, SATAN! Never to thy laws
Did Stygian Imp adhere, and own thy caufe
With firmness paffing mine! thou k ow' full well,
How many here ofore have victims fell

By my dread art! Say but "the palm is mine,"
My fix next patients gafp beneath thy fhrine.

PRIEST..

And durft thou then, with me difpute the prize?
Thou mean retailer of ftale hackney'd lies!
With me!-whom fate, and human laws defign'd
To preach repentance, and to gull mankind!-