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To snatch the licens'd joy ; cach moment lost Then, with light heart, and pockets lighter Seems like an hous. Take, take your fill, Kasd of thy inoney-root of every ill! (still, Ye io nocent tribes, nor det severity

Avvay again to drive the circling hoop, Too rigorous, rob yon of the : Or spio ihe top, or kanckle down at taw.

Tis brief at best, and hardly shall ve know But now the shades of eve and turret beil In life's most boasted years a purcr bliss

Proclaim the holiday too soon expired.-Or more exalted. Fly then o'er the lawn, “ In, boys! all in, boys!" Instant to the school Climb yonder hill.expatiate thro' the grove, Repairing, low they bend to that high Pow's Or from the river's margin plunge into the ware. That guards them from the noontide beat, Why need I urge? already they are gone ; The pestilence that walketh in the night, Some in the limpid stream already merg'd, And out of mouths of sucklings and of babes Their pastime take and cleave the ainbient wave, Ordained praise. The choral hymn and pray'r Or buoyant on the surface float supine, Ascends like irscense to the throne of heaven. Sporting like Halycons on the smooth expanse. And nowall weary, and with eyes half-closil, Thus nerv'd with added strength they urge the Down on the couch they sink, nor sooner down ball

Than sleep seals up their lids : how hash'd the At cricket, manly game! the boast of Kent, The merry noise that echo'd o'er the field [elin, Tunbridge's sous against all England's race; The live-long day! 'Tis silent all and suli Nor last, tho' least, the sprigladly bors of Judd, Along the chambers of the dormitory, Scorning to be surpassi in school, or field. Save where a gentle breathing sooths the car,

Others, as seasons urge, with wear; eye Or now and then a voice that talks in sleep : Scarch every thicket for the mossy nest; For many a vision, or fantastic dream, And thoughtless of the wrong, the eggs despoil

, Horers around their pillows; rivers, groves, Blue as the ethereal concure sireak d or veinid Birds, nests, on tops of tallest trees are seen, By nature's pencil with a thousand dyes. With callow young, or eggs of varied hue ; Oh! my companions! rob not the poor bird, Goldfinches, linnets lined with twigs, For many a pang she feels; but be coment Or shared in traps, or gudgaons on the hook: With viewing the fair prize, and leave it there. The orchard's charms with added lures appear, Sweetly the song from yonder hawthorn bush already up the tree they seize the prize ; Shall pay your generous pity as you pass, The plumns and pippins, pears of freshest hue, And conscious virtue shall a bliss bestow, Clusters of grapes, no longer out of reach, Which rapine, tho' successful, never tastes, Distil ncctareousjuices on their lips, Though India's gems enrich the plunderer. Which seem to smack again: 40 strong and us

Trust not in wrongaud robbery for happiness, Iinagination's pencil points the scene. Nor, when autumnal suns the pensile fruit Thuis cheard by slumbers and a holiday, Matures, and on the southeru garden wall With double diligence they ply the task Blushes the nectar'd peach like Helie's cheek, (Upon she morrow : then vacatipu's goud O'erleap the fence. Oh, turn thy roving eye When to ingenuous minds allow'd it gives From orchards richeith vegetable gold. A spur to industry, aud to genius fire, The pippin and the pear; but learn, like ine, Rest and alternate labour, these combined The ripend cherry, shining, sleek, and plump, With discipline shall form the emulous youth To view with all the stoic's apathy. To high accomplishments in liberal arts; I hate the purple cluster of the grape And when his friends and country call him Wheo, out of reach, it peeps between the leaves To generous service in busy life, [forth Half shewn and half conccal'd, to tempt the With energetic force he acts his part more.

With strict propriety, fitted for each place Insidious beauty! Comrade, touch it not ; However arduoas in the social scene. li e'er in evil hour thou plock the fruit Happy and honour'd, prominent he stands Unlawful, thou shalt sue it, short-liv'd swect Among the sons of men; and lustre Alings Follow'd by bitterness. The owner sces Back on the place where education stored l'oseen, aod tells your master of ihy theft.. His mind with arts that caught him to excel. I'ven lo, the birchen fusces-hatçiul twigs , Pardon my daring, if amid this group Down go the galligaskins ; sighs and sobs Of school-boys, who, beneath your föstering Too plaioly tell what penalties and woes

suniles, Brings disobedience, and the fruit

The inuses, graces, virtues, cultivate, Di that forbidden tree. Theo learn content: I venture to furetel that, sporning case, 1 little weekly stipend is thine own, Some shall emerge, and add to the renown And freely use it, as 't was given for use. Of Tunbridge school, an ancient hoary seat Does thy inouth water? Sce the matron's stall, Of classic in-zinution, favour'd long Plums, nuts and apples, ranged in tempting By patronage of men whose liberal souls, nvite, nor rigid Prudence bids forbcar; [rows, Amid the cures of guin, commercial coils, here purchase, paying ready cash, and eat, Cniet cause of Briwins proud pre-eminence,

cicome as nuts to thee, thy mite to her, Sull find an hour to lisica to the muse, ! By thy feast, poor imp, and freely taste, And honour aris which seek no sordid pell, ofesss or qualins empoisoning the rezide; And add a giucc to life, and build up inan.


O'tis a noble edifice; and here

Then how should I in language adequate The solid basis must be firmly laid

Describe your merits? Tis a copious tireme, In elemental lore. The pious Judd

And asks a genius, as your bounty large. Some centuries past bere placed the corner But this I know, instructed in the arts His sons, disdaining to degenerate, (stone : Of elegance and taste beneath this roof, Support and deck the pile. 'Tis nobly done, And cherish'd by your smiles, the day ba; And merits praise, which, though our hearts come can feel, (lue. When I may strike the lyre with manly grace

, Our tongues want words to speak in language And justify the farour which e'en now

A school-boy (you've heard my artiess Indulgence, blinding judynient, has bestor! 'Tis a true picture of iny simple life; (tale, Tuntridge, May 9, 1802. TL

EPIGRAMS, EPITAPHS, AND OTHER LITTLE PIECES On a very rich Gentleman drinking the Waters' As Will along the floor had loid

of Tunbridg Welis, who had rejiused to con- His lazy linibs in solemn show, tribute to the Relief of a distressed Funily. “ You're ill," quoth Sal, “ I'm sore afrak.

Indeed,” says Will, “ I'm rather low." For deepest woes old Harpax scorns to feel; Think ye his lowels stand in need of steel?

To a Lady, with ihe Print of Venus attiredo The Art of making one's own Sermons,illustrated

the Graces.
by Example.
[ACK stole his discourse from the fam'd Doctor THAT far superior is the state

Even envy must agree;

On thee a thousand Graces wait,
But reading it damnably, made it his own. Ou Venus only three.

Know Thyself. Fitz to the Peerage knows he is a disgrace: To a Gentleman who was obliged to retresia So mounts the coach-box, as his proper place. fear of disagreeable Retaliation.

THAT Cotia is so pale, so spare;

No cause for wonder now afiords; A neighbouring taper seis his hair in flames:

11e lives alas om tempo fare The blaze extinct, permit us to inquire:

Who lives by eating his owa words. “ Were there no lives lost, Richard, in the fire?"

On the Duchess of Devonshire. Ignoliem onine pro magnifico. A VERSE to pamper'd and high-mettled steeds, ARRAXD in matchless beanty, Devon's :

In Fox's favour takes a zealous part: His own upon chopp'd strw. Avaro feeds : But, oh! where'er the pilferer comes-ben: Bred in his stable, in his paddock born,

She supplicates a vote, and steals a beare What vast ideas they must have of corn!

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A Case of Conscience; sulmitted to a lade Dig- On the Phrase " killing Time." Trank: nitary of the Church, on his Narcotic Expo

from Kollaire. sition of the following Text: “ Watch and Pray, lest ye enter into Temptation."

's.scarce a point wherein nuancial By our pastor perplext,

“ So well as in their boast of killing me. How shall we determine?

“ I boast of nothing; but when lea min. “ Watch and Pray,” says the Text, “ I think I can be even with nıankind."

" Go to Sleep," says the Serinon.


On a Lady who squinted.
IP ancient poets

Argus prize
Who boasted of an hundred eyes, .
'Sure greater praise to her is due,
Who looks an hundred ways with two!'.

“Brother bucks, your glasses drain:

“ Tom, 'tis strong and sparkling red." “ Nerer fearaitwon't reach my brain." Noibat's true--bul'twill your head."


my dose,

[He gdy Flirtilla siew'd her mimic bust, The Clown's Reply. GOLDSMITH.
And ask'd blunt Senso if't were fashion'd


Fohn Trott was desired by two witty peers Ma'am," he replied, " in this 'ris inuch like

To tell them the reason why asses had ears: The face is painted, and that hadly tvo."

" An't please you," quoth Joha, “ I'm not given io letters,

[betters: “ Nor dare I pretend to know inore than my An Expostulation.

Howe'er, from this time, I shall ne'er see your graces,

(asees," N her late I attempted your pity to more, " As I hope to be sav'd! without thinking on

Why seem'd you so deaf to my prayers ? erhaps it was right to dissemble your loveBut why did you kick me down stairs?

An Elegy on the Glory of her Ser. By the same.
Good people all with one accord,

Lameni for Madam Blaize,

Who never wanted a good word
TERE is my much-lovd Celia laid,

From those who spoke her praise. At rest from all her earthly labours ! ory to God! peace to the dead,

The needy seldom pass'd her door,
And to the cars of all her neighbours.

And alwavs found her kind;
She freely lent to all the poor-

Who left a pledge behind.
Parody on Blest as the immortal Gods is She strove the neighbourhood to please,
le." By the Ilonourable HENRY Erskine. With manners woodrous winning;
RUNK as a dragon sure is he,

And never follow'd wicked ways-
The youth that dines and

with thee;

Unless when she was sinning.
id sees, and hears thee, full of fun, At church, with silks and satins new,
udly laugh, and quaintly pun.

With hoop of monstrous size; vas this first made me love

She never slumberk) in her pew drais d such pimples on my nose ;

But when she shut her eyes. , while I filled to er'ry toast,

Her love was sought, I do aver, health was gone, my senses lost.

By twenty beaux and more; und the claret and champagne

The king himself has follow'd her ame my blood, and mad my brain;

When she has walk'd before. toast fell falt'ring from my tongue, But noớv, her wealth and finery filed, dly heard the catch I sung.

Her hangers-on cut short all; imy gorge and sickness rise;

The doctors found, when she was dead, candles danc'il before my eyes ;

lier last disorder-nortal. sight grew dimi, the room turn'd round, Let us lament in sorrow sore; nbled senseless on the ground!

For Kent-street well may say,
That, had slie liv'd a twelvemonth more,

She had not died to-day. py wife's so very bad," cried Will,

I fear she ne'er will hold i le keeps her bed!"

On a Viser. line's worse," quoth Phil, hc jade has just now sold it.”

Iron was his chest,

Iron was his door,

His hand was iron, vitaph on a Lady. By Peter PixDAR.

And his heart was morc. FEATH this worf, in sweet repose, the friend of all--fair-one lies

On Mr. Churchill's Death. mence let sorrow vent her woes, ence let pity pour her sighs.

Says Tom to Richard, “Churchill's dead."

Says Richard, “ Tom, you lie: every hour thy life approvich,

« Old Rancour the report has spread, enuse the strain of grief forbears,

“ But Genius cannot die." vishes, tho' by all belov'd, all thee to a world of cars. of thy sex! alas, farewel!

JACK brags he never dines at home, this dark scene remov'd, to shine

With reason too, no doubts re purest shades of mortals dwell, In truth, Jack never dines at all, virtue waits to welcome thine.

Unless invited out,

To Chloe: By PETER PINDAK. Then think not, tha'abridg'd by fate, DEAR Chloe, well I know the swain, Too short this youth's alloited date.

Who gladly would embrace thy chain, With dignity he fill'd his span, And who, alas ! can blame him?

In conduct and in worth a man. Affect not, Caloe, a surprise:

So speat a life--to heaven appears, Look but a moment on these eyes,

As full as Nestor's length of years. Thou 'lt ask me aot to name him.

On a whole family cut off ly the Small-poe. On a new-made Lord. By the same.

By Master PETER RAISIER. The carpenters of ancient Greece, [piece, AT once depriv'd of life, lies here

Although they bought of wood a stubborn A family, to virtue dear.

Not fit to make a block-yet, very odd! Tho' far remov'd from regal state, No losers were the men of chipping trade,

Their virtues made them truly great.. Because of this same stubborn stuff they made Lest one shonld feel the other's fall, A damn'd good god !

Death has, in kindness, seiz'd them all.

Garrick and his brother Actor. By the same.
A SHABBY fellow chanc'd one day to meet A DOCTOR there is of so humble a grace,

That the case he durst never express : The British Roscius in the street: But little he says; and if that you will trace (Garrick, of whom our nation justly brags.) His knowledge you'll find to be less. The fellow inggd him with a kind embrace Then sure you will say he's deficient in bro “ Good Sir, I do not recollect your face," Or his heart to a still you 'll compare, Quoth Garrick." No!" reply'd the man of That does little or nothing but simples contai. rags,

And yields them by drops that are rare. “ The boards of Drury you and I have trod “ Full many a time together, I am sure."“ When?" with an oath, cry'd Garrick-"for,

A Distich, written ly Mr. Cowpet, at de “ by G,

quest of a Gentleman who importuned her! “ I never saw that face of yours before!

write something in his Pocket Albun. - What characters, I pray;

“ Did you and I together play?" I Grudging iwo lines t'im mortalize my “ Lord !" quoth the fellow, " think not that I

« mock“When you play'd Hamlet, Sir, I play'd the

An old Gentleman of the name of Page, it “Cock.

ing a Lady's Glove, sent it to the or
with this Distich, and received the follet

Epitaph on Dr. William Clarke, the celebrated
Antiquary, and Mrs. Ann

Clarke, his Wife. If that from Glove you take the letter G, By William HAYLEY, Esq.

Then Glove is love, and that I send to

Answer. MWWilliam Clarke, and Anne his wife,

Whom happy love had join'd in life, Ip that from Page you take the letter P, United in an humble tomb,

Then Page is age, and that won't do for ca Await the everlasting doom. And bless'd the dead, prepar'd as these, To meet our Saviour's just decrees!

Sent to a Indy with a Present of a Po On earth their hearts were known to feel

Such charity and christian zea!,
That, should the world for ages last,

A BSCINDING form, divide ihe liquid ais,

On wings metallic Ay unto my fait; In adverse fortune's bitter blast,

To her acute and faithful ever prore, Few friends so warin will man find here.

But never cut th' increasing plumes of lor And God no servants more sincere.

On his Excellency the late Lord Gela On the Death of a promising Youth of Eigh

and his Cook. teen.

Says my Lord to his cook, “You 203 • THqdeath the virtuous young destroy,

“ punk, They go to rest, and heavenly joy: " How comes it I see you, thus, erity Life is not to be judgʻd by days,

" drunk? Virtue endures when time decays;

Physicians, they say, oncea month, dozivel And many old we falsely call,

“ Aman,for his health, inget drpaks? Who truly never lividi at all:

" That is right." quoth we cook, but the For what is time, if not emplorid

" they don't say; la worthy deeds--but all a void?

"So, for fear I should miss it, I'm druck

An economical Reflection. Lines sent to Mr. Cosway, while Lady C. Pawe LL mortal things are frail--and go to pot;

let was sitting to him. What wonder then if mortal trowsers tot: Cosway, my Cathrine sits to you: y velvet torn, I shone in inimic shag :

And, that the col'ring may be true, hose soon grew rusty and began to tag. This

nosegay on your palate place, uck-skin was greasy; serge de nym was queer ; Replete with all the tints that grace Emblet was airy; but how apt to te:•! The various beauties of her face. aoth I, “ Sir Pricklouse, shall we try a rug?" Her skin the snow-drop's whiteness shows. Yes, Sir," says he, “that sure will hold alug." Her blushing cheek the op’ning rose; 7! n0; the rug decay'd, like all the past, Her eyes the modest violet speak, -'n ererlasting would not ever last. Whose silken fținges kiss her cheek. length; gress how Ifix'dit.-Why, in troth The spicy pink, in morning dew, ith projects tir’d-Istuck to common cloth. Presents her fragrant lips to view;

The glossy curls that crown her head,
On a Bee.

Paint from the gilt cup of the inead.
RETTY, little, buzzing thing!

Long may her image fill my eye, Arm'd by nature with a sting;

When these fair emblems fade and dic; ’y man's oblig'd to thee,

Plac'd on my faithfui breast, and prove tern thou of industry!

'Tis Cosway paints the Queen of Love, en the fields rich scents exhale, 1 new beauty decks each vale, y all the shining day

Shakspeure's Walk. ry How's thou mak’st thy prey,

By yon Hills with mossing spread, I sweet honey home dost bring,

Lifting up the tufted head; er of the bloomy spring !

By those golden waves of com it does never thee molest,

Which the laughing fields adorn; e, that tyrant of our breast :

By the fragrant breath of flowers in the birds more happy thou;

Stealing from the woodbine bowers; y the spring to love allow,

By this thought-inspiring shade; i no tribute has from thee,

By the gleamings of the glade; lem thou of liberty !

By the babbling of the brook, ! chaste, frugal animal,

Winding slow in many a crook; piest, wisest, best of all!

By the rustling of the trees;

By the humıning of the bees. To an unfortunate Beauty. lovely maid, with downcast eye, On seeing a Dög asleep near kis Mastet. od check with silent sorrow pale,

CHRICE happy dog! thou feel'st po woe, I gives thy heart the lengthend sigh,


Noanguish to inolest at heaving tells a mournful talc?

Thy peaceful hours that sweetly flow, tears, which thus each other chase, Aliernate sport and rest. inak a breast o'erwhelm'd with woe;

Man's call'd thy lord-afiiction's heir ! sighs, a storm which wrecks my peace, ich souls like thine should never know. Whilst he's a slave to every care,

And sorrow's only son! tell me, doth some farour'd youth, And thou art slave to none. oofton blest, thy beautics slight; Blest, vear thy master thus to lie, tave those thrones of love and truth;

And blest with him to rove! at lip, and boson of delight?

Unslain'u by guilt thy moments fly though to other nvinphs he flics, On wings of grateful lovc. d frigns the fond, impassion d tear, Oh! that iny heart, like thine, could taste re's all the eloquence of sighis

The sweets of guililess life! It 'treach'rous won thy äriless ear: Beyond the reach of passion plac'd, At those. nymplis thy anguish move, Its anguish and its strite. "whom his heart may seem to pine; heart shall ne'er be blest by love, jose guilt can force a pang from thine.

On a Waiter, once at Arthur's, and a Fellor.

servant of his there, I'v'h since Menl'ers of Conscience.

Parliament, and the last a Navot. Chartrenix wants the warning of a bell


Hex Bob lock-th, with upper servant's 'o call him to the duties of his cell;

pride, needs no noise at all lawaken sin, Here, sirrah, clean my shoco," to Rurubmiercrant thief his 'larum bias within.

crid, . A ribbed stuff so called. SG



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