LORD MANSFIELD's LIBRARY. 257 II. And MURRAY fighs o'er Pope and Swift, And many a treasure more, The well'd judg'd purchase and the gift That grac'd his letter'd ftore. III. › Their pages mangled, burnt and torn, The lofs was his alone, But ages yet to come shall mourn The burning of his own. ON THE SAM E. I. WHEN wit and genius meet their doom In all devouring flame, They tell us of the fate of Rome, And bid us fear the fame. II. O'er MURRAY's lofs the mufes wept, They felt the rude alarm, Yet blefs'd the guardian care that kept His facred head from harm. III. There III. There mem'ry like the bee that's fed From Flora's balmy ftore, The quinteffence of all he read IV. The lawless herd with fury blind Have done him cruel wrong, The flow'rs are gone-but ftill we find The honey on his tongue. THE LOVE OF THE WORLD REPROVED; OR, HYPO CRISY DETECTED.* THUS fays the prophet of the Turk, Good muffulman, abstain from pork ; No friend or follower of mine *It may be proper to inform the reader that this piece has already appeared in print, having found its way, though with fome unneceffary additions by an unknown hand, into the Leeds Journal, without the author's privity. May May tafte, whate'er his inclination, These chufe the back, the belly thofe ; He meant not to forbid the head, Thus, conscience freed from ev'ry clog, You laugh-'tis well-the tale apply'd While one as innocent regards A fnug and friendly game at cards; Can fee no evil in a play; Some Some love a concert or a race, And others, fhooting and the chase. With fophiftry their fauce they sweeten, THE LILY AND THE ROSE. I. THE nymph must lose her female friend If more admir'd than fhe But where will fierce contention end II. Within the garden's peaceful scene Afpiring to the rank of queen, III. The III. The rose foon redden'd into rage, And fwelling with disdain, Appeal'd to many a poet's page To prove her right to reign. IV. The lily's height bespoke command, She feem'd defign'd for Flora's hand, V. This civil bick'ring and debate The goddess chanc'd to hear, And flew to fave ere yet too late, VI. Your's is, fhe faid, the nobler hue, Let each be deem'd a queen. VII. Thus |