Though still he travels on no bad pretence,
To show

Or those foul copies of thy face and tongue,
Veracious W- and frontless Young;
Sagacious Bub, so late a friend, and there
So late a foe, yet more sagacious H- -?
Hervey and Hervey's school, F-, H—y, H—n,
Yea, moral Ebor, or religious Winton.
How! what can O- -W, what can D---,
The wisdom of the one and other chair,

N

laugh, or D's sager,

Or thy dread truncheon, M.'s mighty peer?
What help from J's opiates canst thou draw,
Or H-
-k's quibbles voted into law?

C., that Roman in his nose alone,
Who hears all causes, B―, but thy own,
Or those proud fools whom nature, rank, and fate
Made fit companions for the sword of state.
Can the light packhorse, or the heavy steer,
The sowzing prelate, or the sweating peer,
Drag out with all its dirt and all its weight,
The lumbering carriage of thy broken state?
Alas! the people curse, the carman swears,
The drivers quarrel, and the master stares.

The plague is on thee, Britain, and who tries To save thee in the infectious office dies. The first firm P- -y soon resign'd his breath, Brave S―w loved thee, and was lied to death. Good M-m-t's fate tore P- -th from thy side, And thy last sigh was heard when W- ―m died.

Thy nobles sl―s, thy se-s bought with gold, Thy clergy perjured, thy whole people sold. An atheista ""'s ad

Blotch thee all o'er, and sink ...
Alas! on one alone our all relies,

Let him be honest, and he must be wise;
Let him no trifler from his
school,
Nor like his . . . . . . . still a . . . .
Be but a man! unminister'd, alone,
And free at once the senate and the throne:
Esteem the public love his best supply,
A's true glory his integrity;

Rich with his . . . . in his . . . strong,
Affect no conquest, but endure no wrong.
Whatever his religion or his blood,

His public virtue makes his title good.
Europe's just balance and our own may stand,
And one man's honesty redeem the land.

LINES ON RECEIVING FROM THE

RT. HON. THE LADY FRANCES SHIRLEY

A STANDISH AND TWO PENS.

YES, I beheld the Athenian queen
Descend in all her sober charms;
"And take" (she said, and smiled serene),
"Take at this hand celestial arms:

"Secure the radiant weapons wield;

This golden lance shall guard desert,
And if a vice dares keep the field,

This steel shall stab it to the heart."

Awed, on my bended knees I fell,
Received the weapons of the sky;
And dipt them in the sable well,
The fount of fame or infamy.

"What well? what weapon?" (Flavia cries)
"A standish, steel and golden pen!
It came from Bertrand's, not the skies;
I gave it you to write again.

"But, friend, take heed whom you attack;
You'll bring a house (I mean of peers),
Red, blue, and green, nay, white and black,
L- and all about your ears.

"You'd write as smooth again on glass,

And run, on ivory, so glib,
As not to stick at fool or ass,
Nor stop at flattery or fib.

"Athenian queen! and sober charms!
I tell ye, fool, there's nothing in't:
'Tis Venus, Venus gives these arms;
In Dryden's Virgil see the print.

"Come, if you'll be a quiet soul,

That dares tell neither truth nor lies,

I'll list you in the harmless roll

Of those that sing of these poor eyes."

ΤΟ

THE AUTHOR OF A POEM ENTITLED "SUCCESSIO,"

[ELKANAH SETTLE.]

BEGONE, ye critics! and restrain your spite,
Codrus writes on, and will for ever write:
The heaviest muse the swiftest course has gone,
As clocks run fastest when most lead is on.
What though no bees around your cradle flew,
Nor on your lips distill'd their golden dew?

Yet have we oft discover'd in their stead
A swarm of drones that buzz'd about your head.
When you, like Orpheus, strike the warbling lyre,
Attentive blocks stand round you and admire.
Wit pass'd through thee no longer is the same,
As meat digested takes a different name;
But sense must sure thy safest plunder be,
Since no reprisals can be made on thee.
Thus thou may'st rise, and in thy daring flight
(Tho' ne'er so weighty) reach a wondrous height:
So forced from engines, lead itself can fly,
And ponderous slugs move nimbly through the sky.
Sure Bavius copied Mævius to the full,
And Chœrilus taught Codrus to be dull;
Therefore, dear friend, at my advice give o'er
This needless labour; and contend no more
To prove a dull succession to be true,
Since 'tis enough we find it so in you.

THE END.