For a new exhibition their portraits we'll plan,
And pen and ink likeneffes sketch if we cany

Where all may their femblances fee;
Tho' folks of fine breeding, immenfely polite,
Their own faces finish with rouge and flake white,
And leave no employment for me..?

Let us tenderly take off those masks, and their cures Attempt, by expofing fuch caricatures

In impartiality's hall;''

But if the gall'd finner fhou'd wince at a line,
And cry," curfe the fellow! the picture's not mine.
The prime-ferjeant painter we'll call
Come, fatyr, affift me, my project is new.-
The demi-beat, grinning, his range of reeds blew,
And this was his fymphony's fong:

“Should I fing of thefe times, or in profe or in verfe "Weak things, but not wicked ones I fhou'd rehearse A medley betwixt right and wrong.

“This æra is much too infipid for me, "Futility's only in practice I fee, ....

"Unworthy one ftroke of my lash; "The fashion is folly, let folly go on, "To fhew fenfe fubfides, and true tafte to bon ton, "And genius is banish'd for trash,' Disdain frown'd his brow, redd'ning rage his eyes Contempt o'er his countenance fpread as he paft, [caft No more diffipation he'll fchool;

We'll be quite the thing then, as life's but a toy, A bubble in which we can only enjoy

The pleasure of playing the fool.

Perhaps my addrefs you may premature think
Because I have mention'd no toast as I drink;
There are many fine toafts, but the beft of 'em all
Is the toast of the times; that is Liberty-Hall.
That fine British building by Alfred was fram'd,
Its grand corner-ftone Magna Charta is nam'd;
Independency came at integrity's call,
And form'd the front pillars of Liberty Hall.
This manor our forefathers bought with their blood
And their fons & their fons fons have prov'd the deeds
By that title we live, with that title we'll fall, [good
For life is not life out of Liberty-Hall.

In mantle of honour, each ftar-fpangled fold,
Playing bright in the fun-fhine, the burnish of gold
Truth beams on her breaft: fee, at loyalty's call,
The genius of England in Liberty-Hall.
Ye fweet fmelling courtlings of ribband and lace
The fpantels of power, and bounty's difgrace,
So fupple, fo fervile, fo paffive ye fall,
'Twas paffive-obedience loft Liberty Hall,
But when revolution had fetti'd the crown,
And natural reafon knock'd tyranny down,
No frowns cloath'd with terror appear'd to appall,
The doors were thrown open of Liberty Hall.
See England triumphant, her fhips sweep the fea,
Her ftandard is juftice, her watch word be free;
Our king is our countryman, Englishmen all,
God bless him, and bless us, in Liberty Hall.
On vere is des all-monfient wants to know,
'Tis neither at Marli, Versailles, Fontainbleau ;
'Tis a palace of no mortal architect's art,
For Liberty Hall is an Englishman's heart.

34

A
Wonder! a wonder! a wonder I'll thow,
You'll wonder indeed when this wonder you know
We are wonderful high, and as wonderful low.
Which nobody can deny.

We always are wond'ring at ev ry thing new,
The good things we wonder at rich people do,

'Tis a wonder indeed if fuch wonders are true. Some

理

Some wonderful folks make a wonderful rout, While fome blunder in, other folks blunder out, We wonder what blunderern can be about.

One fide fays the times are fo good they are glad ; The times, fays the other fide, ne'er were fo bad:

No wonder if this fide or that fide is mad.
For the time I fome patriot changes propose,
That our taxes be lefs, and we wear plainer cloaths
And that ev'ry wearer may pay what he owes.
Imprimis--reflect on the taxes on wheels,
On cards, and the claret we wafte at our meals;
These grievances both parties equally feels.
To be sure we muft own it is curfed provoking,
To fee how fome people their vices are cloaking,
While virtue-but neighbours don't think I am joking
For my grandfather said, and his name is rever'd,
That his father's father had oftentimes heard,
How virtue, when he was a school-boy, appear'd.
She fled without leaving behind her directions,
'Twas in vain fhe obferv'd to oppofe fuch connexions
As turtle-feafts, cuckoldoms, cards, and elections.
You may think me fevere, but indeed you think
I promis'è a wonder at first in my fong, [wrong,
And the wonder is-How cou'd you liften fo long?
Which nobody can deny.

35

SOFT breathing, the zephyrs awaken the grove,

Now, now, is the season for pleasure and love;"
Yet let no delights on our moments intrude,
But fuch as are fimple, and fuch as are good.

Far hence be the love that's by wantonnefs bred
Far hence be the pleafures by vanity-led!
But joys, which both reafon and virtue approve,
Such, fuch are the glory and pride of the grove.

36
THOUGH from place to place I'm ranging,
No relief my breaft can find,

Though each day the fcene I'm changing,
Reflefs thoughts disturb

my

mind.

How can I be peace enjoying,

37

M

Or in valley or on hill one stu? gailun SAT Love his power is yet employing anissa W Paffion is my mafter fillog sat sitat brain BEhold on the brow the leaves play in the beere, uch grilo While cattle calm feed in the vale; ne The church-fpire tapering, points thro' the trees, As lord of the hill and the dale.pa-mut le The playful colte fkip after lambs to the Brook, The brook flow and filently glides; The furface so smooth, and fo clear, if you lock It reflects the gay green on its fides, JAKA By his feather'd feraglio in farm-yard carefï'd, The King of the Walk dares to crow, No Nabob, nor Nimrod enflaving the caft, Such prowess with beauty can fhew. Beneath the ftill cow, Nancy preffes the test,

Her face like the ruddy fac'd morn;
Loud ftrokes in the barn the trong threshers repeat,
Or winnow for market the corn.
Industrious, their wives, at the doors of their cate
Sit fpinning, drefs'd neatly, though coarse,
To their babes, while unheeding the traveller tot
They fhew the fine man and his horfe.
At the heels of the freed bark the bafe village whelp
Each puppy rude echo beftirs;
yelp
Eut the hoife too high bred, bounds away from th
Difregarding the clamour of curs,
Illiberal railers thus envy betray,-

When merit above them they view *
But Genius difdains to turn out of his way,
Or afford a reply to the crew. av

To contempt and defpair fuch infanes we commits
But to generous rivals, a toast
May rich men reward boneft fellows of wit
Here's a health to thofe dunces hate mait

Their parents faw, and blefs'd their love,
Nor would their happiness delay;
To-morrow's dawn their blifs fhould prove,
To-morrow be their wedding-day.
When as at eve, befide the brook,

Where ftray'd their flocks, they fat and smil'd,
One lucklefs lamb the current took,
"Twas Rofalie's-fhe farted wild.
Run, Lubin, run, my fav'rite fave;
Too fatally the youth obey❜d:
He ran, he plung'd into the wave,
To give the little wanderer aid.
But fcarce he guides him to the shore,
When faint and surk, poor Lubin dies :.
Ah Rofalie! for ever more,

In his cold grave thy lover lies,
On that lone bank-Oh! ftill be feen,
Faithful to grief, thou hapless maid;
And with fad wreaths of cyprefs green,
For ever footh thy Lubin's fhade.

'Twas thus, by the cave of the mountain afar,
While his harp rung fymphonious a Hermit began
No more with himself or with nature at war,
He thought as a fage, though he felt as a man,
Ah why! all abandon'd to darkness and woe,
Why, alone Philomela, that languishing fall?
For fpring fhall return, and a lover beftow,

And forrow no longer thy bofom inthral. But if pity infpire thee, renew the fad lay, [mourn; Mourn, fweeteft complainer, man calls thee to O foothe him, whofe pleafores like thine pass away, Full quickly they pafs-but they never fetura. Now gliding remote, on the verge of the sky, The moon half extinguish'd her crefcent display, But lately I mark'd, when majestic on high,

She fhone, and the planets were loft in her blaze. Roll on, thou fair orb, and with gladnefs purfue The path that conducts thee to fplendor again, But man's faded glory what change fhall renew? Ah fool! to exult in a glory fo vain!

'Tis night, and the landfcape is lovely no more,

I mourn, but ye woodlands, I mourn not for you For morn is approaching your charms to reftore;

Perfum'd with freth fragrance and glitt'ring with Nor yet for the ravage of winter I mourn; [dew. Kind nature the embryo bloffom will fave; But when fhall fpring vifit the mouldering urn! O when shall it dawn on the night of the grave! 46

HIS form by nature's hand was caft,

In beauty's manly mould,
His heart a costly jewel was,

Cas'd in a fhrine of gold.

The gods in heav'nly fynod met,
And each a bleffing gave,
Wife, valiant, virtuous, he became,
But ah! he was a slave.

He ferv'd as flave yet never ferv'd,

A proud unworthy dame;
He lov'd as youth ne'er lov'd before,
But fed a hopeless Aame:

47

WHAT a lover is he that has nothing to give,
But a look, and a vow, and a figh!
[live,
Silly maid, take my word, you should know how to
Before you're fo ready to die.

How ftupid a pair are the bridegroom and bride,
Who wed but for cooing and billing ;
Oh! how dull will they be, as they fit fide by fide,
If it happens they're not worth a fhilling.
At first, by good luck, every hour of the day,
'Tis my darling, my foul's dearest pleasure;
But at laft, fays the wife, I want money to pay,
Come, give it, my heart's richest treasure !
"But I have it not, fweeting !"-This theme may
"Come let us be cooing and billing" [breed ftrife
Go, barbarous husband-go, fermagant wife-
So it happens when not worth a shilling.

At night, in high health, from his labour he refts,
His houthold fit round in a row,

Wife, children, and fervants, domeftical guests,
Such circles in town can ye fhew,

He fmiles on his babes, as fome ftrive for his knee,
And fome to their mother's neck cling,
While playful the prattlers for place difagree,
The roof with their fhrill trebles ring.

Thofe cynics who brood o'er a fingle life's spleen,
The offspring they have dare not own,

But happy-wed pairs can enjoy the fond scene
To you wretched mortals unknown.

His dame the good man of the house thus addrefs'd, "Twas fo with us when we were young."

Her hand within his he with gentleness prefs'd, While fentiment prompted his tongue.

Kk