EPITAPH ON TWO SISTERS (TWINS) BURIED TOGETHER. FAIR AIR marble, tell to future days, That here Two virgin SISTERS lie, Whose lives employ'd each tongue in praise, In stature, beauty, years, and fame, English Chronicle. A MATRIMONIAL THOUGHT. IN the sweet days of honey-moon, But now my kitten's grown a cat, I fear she has nine lives! Ibid. JEWISH ECONOMY. Two criminals, a Christian and a Jew, Or come, as some folks call it, to the gallows; In dreadful form the constables and shrieve, The priest and ord'nary, and crowd attended, Unmov'd he seem'd, and to the spot still sticking, Ne'er offers, tho' he's bid, to quit the place; Till in the air the other fellow kicking, The sheriff thought that some peculiar grace, Some Hebrew form of silent deep devotion, Had for a while depriv'd him of his motion. But being question'd, by the sheriff's orders— "Ov Mister Catch to puy the ted man's clothes!" Peter Pindar. ADDRESS TO A PICTURE OF PRUDENCE. WHEN unrestrain'd my simple heart And let me, Prudence, think on thee. When Wit her dang'rous mirth supplies, To check my fancies as they rise, If prone to blab a gossip's tale, And set the imprison'd secret free, If discord in my bosom rise, And anger uncontrol'd would be, When lavish bounty guides my hand, Sage goddess, on whose sober brow By a Lady. LINES LAID UPON THE BOSOM OF A SLEEPING INFANT. REST, lovely Babe! while watchful by O, time will come, when anguish-torn, May'st thou, dear boy, when age has strung Still hold rever'd the sacred tongue That form'd the infant in its course. Joy that no harsh ungracious sound Then the sad earth that clasps her round Will not be injur'd by thy tear. English Chronicle. EPITAPH. To this sad shrine, whoe'er thou art, draw near, Here lies the friend most lov'd, the wife most dear; No conquest she but o'er herself desir'd, No art essay'd, but not to be admir'd; Passion and pride were to her soul unknown, Who ne'er knew joy but friendship might divide, Ibid. THE LICENCE OF TRAVELLING. ONE of those talkers, who themselves admire, Strange stories tell, and say they hate a liar, As he was holding forth one day, 'Mongst other things was heard to say: "On Dover beach (I think 'twas there) A friend of mine caught a sea horse, He train❜d him up with special care, And round his fields would make him course. Riding one morn th' amphibious creature, Rashly too near the sea he went; The marine horse, as was his nature, No sooner snuff'd the briny scent, |