THUS HUS says the prophet of the Turk, Good mussulman, abstain from pork; ~ No friend or follower of mine May taste, whate'er his inclination, Such Mahomet's mysterious charge, What joint the prophet had in mind. * It may be proper to inform the reader, that this piece has already appeared in print, having found it's way, though with some unnecessary additions by an unknown hand, into the Leeds Journal, without the author's privity. Much controversy straight arose, These choose the back, the belly those; He meant not to forbid the head; Thus, conscience freed from ev'ry clog, You laugh'tis well-The tale applied May make you laugh on t'other side. Renounce the world the preacher cries. We do a multitude replies. While one as innocent regards A snug and friendly game at cards And one, whatever you may say, Can see no evil in a play; Some love a concert, or a race; ; And others shooting, and the chase. Revil'd and lov'd, renounc'd and follow'd, Thus, bit by bit, the world is swallow'd; Each thinks his neighbour makes too free, Yet likes a slice as well as he: With sophistry their sauce they sweeten, Till quite from tail to snout 'tis eaten. ON THE DEATH OF MRS. (now LADY) THROCKMORTON'S BULFINCH. YE nymphs! if e'er your eyes were red With tears o'er hapless fav'rites shed, 307 O share Maria's grief! Her fav'rite, even in his cage, Rooms tu (What will not hunger's cruel rage?);" Assassin'd by a thief. Where Rhenus strays his vines among, The egg was laid from which he sprung; And, though by nature mute, Or only with a whistle blest, Well-taught he all the sounds express'd of Of flagelet or flute. The honours of his ebon poll ན་སྒྲོན་ Were brighter than the sleekest mole, **** His bosom of the hue, A With which Aurora decks the skies, gra When piping winds shall soon arise, Above, below, in all the house, No cat had leave to dwell; Well-lattic'd-but the grate, alas! But smooth with wands from Ouse's side, Night veil'd the pole: all seem'd secure : A beast forth sallied on the scout, He, ent'ring at the study-door, And something in the wind Conjectur'd, sniffing round and round, Food chiefly for the mind. 246 LADY THROCKMORTON'S BULFINCH. Just then, by adverse fate impress'd, A rat fast clinging to the cage, For, aided both by ear and scent, Minute the horrors that ensu'd ; His teeth were strong, the cage was wood O had he made that too his prey; That beak, whence issu'd many a lay Of such mellifluous tone, Might have repaid him well, I woteyr For silencing so sweet a throat, Fast stuck within his own. Maria weeps the Muses mourn→→→ So when, by Bacchanalians torn, I The tree-enchanter Orpheus fell, The cruel death he died. 7223 |