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“Whithread, is't true? is't true? I hear, For hips and knees, of QULLUS. Are “ I hear

facred things 2:40 you're of an ancient family-re: That only bend on gala days.. isto 16 nown'd

Before the beft of Kings, us What? what? I'm told that you'rçą When odes of triomph found his. praire 16 limb

pir

Now thro' a thund'ring peal of kind huz676f PYM, the famous fellow. Pym int.

S COM “What, Whitbread, is it true what peo: Proceeding, fome from bird and ashit'd " ple say?

1.29; is bino 15 ing" " Son of a round-head ave, you! ha!

The raree-thpw thought power to re. næ? hæ?

ajr
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Tia's Yasin ilu? I'm told that you ferid Bibles to your Whilft Mr Whitbread and his daughter

fair

mi bas ir 919N “ A fufting round-headed focletype Survey'd all Chifwell Street with lefty 6. "Prayér-books, initead of cah, to buy ti them coatsmit 22

For, lo ! they felt themselves fome for of Bugyans, and Practices of Piety: fect higher ! " Your Bedtord votes would wish to Now God preserve all, wonder- -hunting " change their fare ;

KINGS, Rather fee cath-yes, yestlian books

Whether at Windsor, Buckinghamn, a 6 of pray’r.

Kew-hqusę, " Thirtieth of January don't you feed? “ Yes, yes, you eat calf's head, you eat

Than visiting SAN WHITBktOD an "calf's head;"

his brewhouse! Now having wonders done on flesh, fowl,

* *3. 2ov5? Whole hosts o‘erturn'd=and seiz?d on all suppiies,

€ Į E.G YOSI The royal visitors express'd a wish Written in an ATTORNEY'S GARRIT, To turn to House of Buckingham their.

1: eyes.

WITHIN these greasy bags, with duit But first the MỞNARC# so polite,

Where swells the tape with many a well: Ak'd Mr Whitbread if he'd be a Knight ty'd heapa "Unwilling in the 'lik to be enroll?d,

Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, Whitbread contemplated the Knights of The fell forefathers of Contention sleep P&G,

II. Then to his generous Sov'RETGĦ madę. The tinkling call of bells at Nine à leg,

o'clock And said, "He was afraid he was teo old.

chattering to th' indig^ He thank'd, however, his moft gras

nant bar, çiaus KING,

Jobn Small's loud clarion, s noiry “For offering to make him fuch. a

crack, 6. THING.?

No more shall rouse them to the wordy

war. Now from the e table with Cæfarean air Up rofe the MONARCH, with his lau: For them ng more the clerk shall frame,

relld brow, When Mr Whitbread, waiting on his or bufy Janet duft the fable gown

the roll, chair, Express'd much thạnks, much joy, Scroll,

No agent lengthen out the lengthenod and made a bow. Of lawyer drop the vagrant guineaidon

. Mifs Whitbread now fa thick her curt,

IV. fies dripps,

Oft did the Session to their clamour yield, Thick as her honour'd father's Kentith And year on year their stubborn (p'riť bops,

has broke Which hoplike curthes were return'd by. How jocund, when the fees their Counr.

fel Iteeld; o royal knees and, How yawn’d the the Bench, when in ing to the clock,

PUISOR

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43 V.

XII. The boast of Barrifters, the kill to draw, one mort'we miss'd him at the side-bar And all that judgement, all that wit

call 3 could dealt and need vinto

Along Leith Walk, and near the reftless Await alike the uncertainty of law? sea, RH Picigation leads but to the jail, A Rother came į pot at the writers Is baix to as VI.

hall, Full mapy a Triply, drawn by writers Nor up the town, nor at the polls was keen, t 15:19

hers. Th' ynfathom'd Melves of this dark gar.

XIII, ret beariat?

The next, with Siulies four, in pensive Full many a Bid, advis'd and pass'd unLa reçng !'abri

Slow to the Grey-Friars field we saw Here rots and moulders in the murky him borne. air 4.: 35721

Beneath a fod he now for ever lies, VII.

There with the "mighty dead," for, Perbąps in this neglected fpot arę laid,

gotten and forlorn. Some Answers, drawn by power

ABRACADABRA roceffes, where 's aid Perplex'd his blackguard client's clear EDINBURGH, July 1. 1787. demand.

үІІІ. Yet ev'n this tr trash from cookmaids to

M 0 N OD protect;

r, Some frail direction dangles in a npose, On the death of the late Sir J. HUNTER And warns her oft her ravages to check;

BLAIR, Kt. Bt. + Nor seize their fpoils, to linge the christmas goosey 5

WHY inceles Countenance, that laten 4

The Mind serene or tun'd to smiling Joy, Beneath Tame pye the Condescendence Doth folemn Sorrow, with unerring Signs, lies tax doo

Proclaim her awful Reign-The troubo Some printed cafe Gillespie's Snuiff te led Brow,

igutres as die Even from the trunk, the voice of

That gathers like a deep, o'erhanging

Cloud, griert

Th’involuntary Sigh, the starting Tear Even at the huckster's live 's fires.

Declare Calamity, And such, alas! X.

Each liberal Heart too surely feels there "seostbee,wbemindful of th' mabonqurid PRL, in these lines, their artless tale For liberal BLAIR's no more.

O did the years I change by lonely contemplafjar led Of those who croud into the Span of Life Some kindred Tpirit fall inquire thy Each Virtue that can charm and bleke

Mankind
XI,

Extend to countless points of Time, of Haply fome hungry writer lad may such

Mankind wou'd deem the stay on Earth er oft have we seen him press with busy too short. air, 2VO ald

But when untimely falls the Man belov'd, To meet L. -d's at the pinę. In Prime of Days cut off, though old in hour bell;

Virtue,
Up Egster's Wynd, or Henderson's dark Grievous the Stroke indeed!
Aair.

The Dissy mom

murky air,

370379 T pre deti sn'gl Chiama gli habitator del ombre eterne.

. Beneath some pye the Condescence liés. di buona o riso I sent them with a load of books

Laft Monday to the pastry cook's. 91 9193 TRX Swift.gordos This appeared in a public paper very soon after the mournful event which occasioned it. Several corrections have fince been given it. Mr Woods of the Tlogatse-Royal is named as the Author,

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The Mufe who know, From the approving public eye-tet-ird, And knowing, honour'd, wou'd record His Virtue itill vas active, and sustain'd his Worth :

The Scene of private Life with equal Wou'd pay a Tribute to th' illustrious

Dead,
And Thew a bright Example to the Li-

Long, long will those, a numerous ving

Band of Friends, But how, alas ! shall the collect the Who in the calm domestic Hour, much Pow'rs

pleas'd, Scatter'din fad Amazement and Surprise,

View'd him fulfilling every sacred Duty; To form a verse befitting such a theme? Who, at the social Board, have often

Thar'd
In Fiction's winding Path with graceful
Ease

with him the Converse gay, and free

alike The skilful Poet moyes; his chiefert

From Rudenefs and Austerity: and those, Care How to adorn the Tale he has contriv'd: Not least in Number, who have known Thus from the fields of Fancy as he His Bounty, oft stretch'd forth, to bear He culls a Wreath of never-fading Against the Current of o'erwhelming Flowers.

Fortune ; But when a real Ill befalls himself, And every génerous, feeling Heart, to

Whom In simple, artless strains his Grief breaks forth.

Public or Private Virtue can be dear : The plaints he utters issue from the 6! long shall they lainent the Stroke

that tore Heart Such is the Verse, spontaneous and fin- A ready Prep from Merit; from the Poor

A careful Guardian; from his weeping cere, The humbleft Bard in all Apollo's traia

Family Now dedicates to him, whose Worth be. A lov'd and tender Father; from his knew,

Country Whose Memory be reveres.

A zealous Patriot from the World a

Friend!

Elaborate Praise Tocelebrate his much-diftinguish'dName Were but superfluous. His PUBLIC SPERIT,

Epitaph on the late DUKE of QUEENSThat, independent, fcorn'd all felfish BERRY, written at Dumfries in the Views,

year 1779, on hearing that the Magi. And breath'd no wish but for his Coun: strates intended to crect Monument try's Good :

to the Duke.
His Plans, that mark'd the mind enlarg'd,
and aim'd

S
TRANGER! for only strangers have

to learn T' improve and to adorn his favourite

The worth of him whose alhes fill thig' City, The seat of Science and of liberal Art; If led by chance, or by some guide less

Urn, His Candour and Integrity, display'd

blind, In the most arduous magisterial office : These, with the Eloquence of heav'n- Thou seek'st this great man's Epitaph born Truth

to find, Far as his Name is heard, declare his Thy search is vain-no Epitaph is here, Worth

For none need praises, but who Malice

fear. On each reflective Mind, impress the Löss

Yet is there one which, tho' not here, A grateful Country mourns.

Is writt'n, where it will longer be pre

Nor yet alone, fery'd ; When lab’ring carneft for the general is writt'n, where Time can never bring Weal

decay, His Merits shone conspicuous; from the Read thou wilt find it in the works of the Senate,

GAY.

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