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No-guard him better. Is he not thine own,
Oh, barb'rous ! wouldst thou with a Gothic hand Pull down the schools—what !-all the schools i' th’
land; Or throw them up to liv'ry-nags and grooms, Or turn them into shops and auction-rooms ?”A captious question, sir, (and yours is one), Deserves an answer similar, or none. Wouldst thou, possessor of a flock, employ (Appris'd that he is such) a careless boy, And feed him well, and give him handsome pay, Merely to sleep, and let them run astray ?
330 TIROCINIUM; OR, A REVIEW OF SCHOOLS. Survey our schools and colleges, and see A sight not much unlike
simile. From education, as the leading cause, The public character its colour draws; Thence the prevailing manners take their cast, Extravagant or sober, loose or chaste. And though I would not advertise them yet, Nor write on each—This building to be let, Unless the world were all prepar'd t' embrace A plan well worthy to supply their place; Yet, backward as they are, and long have been, To cultivate and keep the morals clean, (Forgive the crime) I wish them, I confess, Or better manag'd, or encourag'd less.
YEARLY DISTRESS; OR, TITHING TIME AT STOCK, IN ESSEX. Verses addressed to a country Clergyman complaining of the disagreeableness of the day annually appointed for receiving the dues at the parsonage. Come, ponder well, for 'tis no jest,
To laugh it would be wrong,
The burden of my song.
Three quarters of a year,
When tithing time draws near.
As one at point to die,
He heaves up many a sigh.
Along the miry road,
To make their payments good.
Is not to be express'd,
Are both alike distress'd.
The clumsy swains alight,
He trembles at the sight.
Each bumpkin of the clan,
Will cheat him if he can.
So in they come-each makes his leg,
And flings his head before, And looks as if he came to beg,
And not to quit a score. “ And how does miss and madam do,
The little boy and all ?”
Good Mr. What-d'ye-call ?”
Were e'er such hungry folk?
It is no time to joke.
One spits upon the floor,
the cloth before. The punch goes round, and they are dull
And lumpish still as ever;
They only weigh the heavier.
“ Come, neighbours, we must wag” -. The money chinks, down drop their chins,
Each lugging out his bag.
And one of storms of hail,
By maggots at the tail.
“A rarer man than you In pulpit none shall hear : But yet, methinks, to tell you true,
You sell it plaguy dear.” 0, why are farmers made so coarse,
Or clergy made so fine ? A kick, that scarce would move a horse,
May kill a sound divine.
Then let the boobies stay at home;
"Twould cost him, I dare say, Less trouble taking twice the sum, Without the clowns that pay.
SONNET ADDRESSED TO HENRY COWPER, ESQ. On his emphatical and interesting delivery of the Defence of Warren
Hastings, Esq. in the House of Lords. COWPER, whose silver voice, task'd sometimes hard,
Legends prolix delivers in the ears
(Attentive when thou read’st) of England's peers, Let verse at length yield thee thy just reward. Thou wast not heard with drowsy disregard,
Expending late on all that length of plea Thy gen'rous pow'rs; but silence honour'd thee, Mute as e'er gaz'd on orator or bard. Thou art not voice alone, but hast beside Both heart and headl; and couldst with music sweet
Of Attic phrase and senatorial tone, Like thy renown'd forefathers, far and wide Thy fame diffuse, prais'd not for utt'rance meet
Of others' speech, but magic of thy own.
Author of " The Botanic Garden,"
Not oft so well agree),
Conspire to honour Thee.
Who oft themselves have known
By labours of their own. * Alluding to the poem by Mr. Hayley, which accompanied these lines.