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From India unpropitious news arrives,*

And Prince Octavius quits this mortal scene.

Election broils now come in play, 1784.
'Twixt Fox and Hood, and Cecil WbAt;
Handel's august commemoration,
Electrifies the list'ning nation; . ..
And, useful to the Muse, she hails
Palmer, thy Post-impelling Mails:
May thy claim's " laboursome petition,"
Wring justice, slow, from opposition.
Johnson, thy vast, thy comprehensive mind,

With all it's Herculean store

Of elegant, not superficial, lore,

Is by the will of Heav'n to death consign'd.

The monument thou leav'st behind,—

Thy Works,—like the tamed Torso, greatly prove

Our praise, or imitation, far above.

In sev'nteen hundred eighty-five,
The all-expectant world's alive,

* Our forces bath by land and sea suffered severely in India, just as the news of peace arrived to put an end to hostilities, and this was the final operation of the late war.

To To hear how Warren Hastigns, tried, 178*.

Such inquisition might abide,

As, when once brought before his Peers,

They wove and wove for years and years;

As if, like Old Ulysses' bride,

Their daily knots the night untied,

At length, both sides to plead admitted,

The Governor most amply is acquitted.

The Shop-tax for a while disturbs the town,
'Till he who plann'd it, wisely laid it down.


Commercial plans with France and Spain we sign,

On base of reciprocity,
And faith and friendship mutually combine,

'Gainst future animosity.
When, suddenly, a frantic maniac's hand,*

Masking in suppliant guise th' insidious knife, Had nearly plunged in mourning all the land,

By sacrifice of our lov'd parent's life.

* Margaret Nicholson attempted to stab His Majesty with a knife she had concealed in the folds of a petition, which he was just reaching his hand to receive; she proved to be insane, and was directed, under the most humane attention, to be confined in Bethlem Hospital.


Nor know her wand'ring senses to this hour,
What parricidal guilt her hands had dyed;

Had not kind heaven interposed it's pow'r,
And turn'd the murd'rous implement aside.

While thanks for George's preservation rise,

Amelia, his royal sister, dies. 178?.

Next might we open a vast, boundless theme,

Of wond'rous narrative, more like a dream

Than semblant to the style of sober pens,

I mean when civil daemons left their dens:

With specious garb, and demagogues' deep wile,

Who look like peace, yet '* murder while they smile."

Oh, hapless Gallia, 'tis for thee we mean

These plaints, and happy for the Muse, I ween,

Not her's the task to trace each blood-stain'd scene

Thy mourning streets, thy fanes, thine altars saw;
That fierce despite of loyalty and law
Which rent asunder ev'ry sacred tie,
In Reason's name bade all of reason die,
And call'd the gaunt delirium Liberty!

Pass we the horrors of thy princes slain,

Pass we where lovely woman falls unspared 5

Pass Pass we where brutes o'er heroism reign,

While red-eyed Revolution wildly glared. My Muse disclaims each deed of crime or glory, But what alone relates to British story.


Lord George, who led the chapel-burning crew,
Now quits his creed, and owns himself a Jew.

Mansfield, the sagejudicial chief, expires:
And, with respect and sympathy, we state,
Hyg^eia from our sov'reign's cheeks retires,
And (while a prey to fev'rish fires

The monarch suffers,) harsh debate,
And wrath unseemly, in the senate rise.
Then, Thurlow, it was thine to prize 17S9
Thy master's welfare, and exclaim,
(Never forgotten be thy fame) 1
"Whene'er unmindful of my King I prove
"Unmindful be of me the God I love !*'
Then Pitt! too, leader of that band
Who, in the sov'reign, served the land,
O'erpaid thy loyal efforts then,
When reason dawning on the best of men,

Pointed Pointed his faithful friends to his regard,

And feeling, reft of words, essay'd reward,

The King's recovery was given

As sudden blessing sent from Heaven,

To interpose when Discord's voice,

In accents hoarse, bade fiends rejoice;

But Providence withdrew the veil,

The daemon's fell intentions fail:

And in the sacred dome,* by crouded hearts

Surrounded, George his gratitude imparts,

To where Sincerity will still prevail.

Burke, and his friend Charles Fox who used
to feel 1790.
But one opinion; now with so much zeal
On Gallic questions seize, that neither yield,
While all their former friendship quits the field.

Cornwall's decease the Speaker's chair bestows
On Addington, whose worth the country knows;
Some frantic hand again the King assails,y
It's aim, to ev'ry subject's rapture, fails.

• His Majesty went in solemn procession to St. Paul's to return thanks tor his recovery.

t A stjne was thrown at His Majesty by one John Frith, a half-pay lieutenant, which fortunately missed the loyal peison: Frith being proved insane, upon trial, was sent to a proper place of confinement.


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