ON THE SAME. WHEN wit and genius meet their doom And bid us fear the same. O'er MURRAY's loss the Muses wept, They felt the rude alarm, Yet blessed the guardian care that kept His sacred head from harm, There Mem'ry, like the bee, that's fed From Flora's balmy store, The quintessence of all he read Had treasured up before. The lawless herd, with fury blind, ON THE DEATH OF MRS. (NOW LADY) THROCKMORTON'S BULFINCH. YE nymphs! if e'er your eyes were red (What will not hunger's cruel rage?) Where Rhenus strays his vines among, Or only with a whistle blest, Well-taught he all the sounds expressed The honours of his ebon poll With which Aurora decks the skies, Το Above, below, in all the house, No cat had leave to dwell; Well-latticed-but the grate, alas! But smooth with wands from Ouse's side, Night veiled the pole, all seemed secure: Subsistence to provide, A beast forth sallied on the scout, Long-backed, long-tailed, with whiskered snout, And badger-coloured hide. He, entering at the study door, And something in the wind Conjectured, sniffing round and round, Just then, by adverse fate impressed, For, aided both by ear and scent, Oh had he made that too his prey; Might have repaid him well, I wote, Maria weeps- the Muses mourn— THE LOVE OF THE WORLD REPROVED; OR, HYPOCRISY DETECTED.* THUS says the prophet of the Turk, These choose the back, the belly those; He meant not to forbid the head; Thus, conscience freed from every clog, You laugh-'tis well-The tale applied It may be proper to inform the reader, that this piece has already appeared in print, having found its way, though with some unnecessary additions by an unknown hand, into the Leeds Journal, without the author's privity. Renounce the world-the preacher cries. A snug and friendly game at cards; Some love a concert, or a race; And others shooting, and the chase. Reviled and loved, renounced and followed, With sophistry their sauce they sweeten, THE ROSE. THE rose had been washed, just washed in a shower Which Mary to Anna conveyed, The plentiful moisture encumbered the flower, And weighed down its beautiful head. The cup was all filled, and the leaves were all wet, And it seemed to a fanciful view, To weep for the buds it had left with regret, 1 hastily seized it, unfit as it was For a nosegay, so dripping and drowned, |