't f m- .. w, 4X J J i <^ irr't ^: _u .M .--- *. .~^* < ^ ' -^ B" ^ .c^r- ^1 5 .^j I .? % ^Jl i 5 'JNVSOV^"^^ 'O-VrvlAI'J.-lUv -^>AHvHJiii-l^" '^AJiVhifiliH^ ^^jm^vw^ S y l/E .\IGS V'-i.Fi;"";- .j^n mm//, 1 Lr.:t-.. " pTrn"^ mm 3'^" s^ : ;^r,i^", POEMS, c. csrr BY THE LATE Mrs. MARY A L C O C K. LONDON: fRIN'TTD I OR C. DILLY, I'OUI. TRY, M.IICC.XCIX. A n TO THE READER. rr^His Volume, which the Editor now refped- fuUy prefents to her kind Subfcribers in par- ticular, and to the Public in general, contains ver}'- nearly the whole of what (he could colled from amongft the papers of her deceafcd Aunt, in any degree fit for publication, and more perhaps than by choice fhe would have publiflied, was fhe not perfuaded that this fmall Colledion will fall into the hands of few readers, but fuch as have patro- nized and promoted her undertaking through re- gard to the memory of the amiable Author. All, to whom the virtues of her charader were known, will be candidly difpofed to excufe any trivial er- rors in her compofition. She never held herfelf up as a writer : when (he reforted to her pen, it was either to amufe a leifure hour, to gratify an abfent friend, or for the fublimer purpofe of pouring out her heart in praifes and thankfgivings to her God. The Editor thinks herfelf fortunate in having been A 2 able ( iv ) able to colled fome, from amongft many Poems of this defcriptlon, which, (lie has reafon tobeUeve, her Aunt had written and negleded to preferve : they were the fecret afpirations of her unobtrufive piety, and as fuch, (lie kept them private ; for in her blamelefs compofition vanity had no part. Once only flie reforted to the prefs ; but in that fingle inftance flie concealed her name, and, from motives of pure benevolence only, publifhed her Fragment lor the relief of the debtors in licheftcr gaol ; her charitable motives were fully gratified by the refult, for many debtors were liberated out of their confinement at llchefler, and fourteen out of Newgate, by the produce of that little Poem, During her refidence at Bath, flie occafionally fubfcribed her tribute to the Vafe at Bath-Eafton, and fome few of thefe will be found in the follow- ing Colledion. The little ElTays in profe are trifles, which (lie never had in idea to communicate, ex- cept to a female relation, with whom flie corrc- fponded. ( V ; Iponded, and for mere amufement Interchanged fome papers in the fame ftile, but which were fbon difcontinued : it is in pure obedience to the willies of fome particular friends that they are now in- ferted. It may be matter of information to fome readers to premife, that Mrs. Mary Alcock was the daughter of Dr. Denisox Cumberland, bidiop of Kilmore, in Ireland, by Joanna, daughter of the learned Dr. Richard Bentley. Born of fuch parents, and defcended in a line from fuch anceftors (for her father was grand fon to that great and good man, bifliop Cumberland, of Peterborough) this excellent woman feemed to have concentrated in her heart the full fplrit of their piety and benevo- lence. It may without exaggeration be faid, that the fimple journal of her time on earth would be a record of good deeds, mofl honourable to her me- mory, and a lefTon to the world at large. The af- fliftions, which it pleafed Providence to vifit her A 2 vvith. { vi ) with, were of a very peculiar nature, fuch as a fpirit {o gentle, and feelings fo refined as her's, feemed ill able to contend with ; but though nature had af- figned her a corporeal frame fo extremely feeble and defencelefs, that every blaft of the elements might be fuppofed to threaten it with extindion. Heaven had endowed her with a foul equal to the fevereft trials, and capable of the fublimeft efforts. In her piety fhe found refources againft every fpe- cies of worldly misfortune, and under circum fiances, which none but minds like her's could have fur- mounted, fhe flood forth as the benefaclrefs and protedrefs of a whole orphan family of dependant Nieces, of which the humble Editor of thefe flight memorials of her genius is one, not indeed the moft fortunate, but furely not the leafl forward to confefs her favours, to bewail her lofs and to revere her memory. JOANNA HUGHES. ( ^H ) Mrs. Mary Alcock died on the 28th day of May 1 798, in the 5 7th year of her age. Exhauft- d by long illnefs, which fhe endured with undi- minifhed patience, (he expired, without pain or flruggle, in the houfe of her beloved friends and af- fedtionate relations, Mr. and Mrs. iVsHBY, of Ha- felbeach, in Northamptonfliire, and was buried in the parifli church of that village. The following infcription, upon a plain marble tablet, is about to be eredVed to her memory in that Church. ** This Tablet Is fet up by the furvlving friends of Mrs. Mary Alcock, ** to fignify that within this Church, *' beneath the pavement of the middle aifle, " her periftiable remains are buried. " At the refurrelion of the Juft, " When the Spirits of the BlefTed ftiall afcend into glory, " We believe and are perfuaded, " That the foul of this ineftimable vi'oman, " Whofe whole life was exercifed in every Chriflian duty, " Whofe faith was firm, ** Whofe; piety was fincere, " And whofe benevolence was univerfal, *' Shall be found worthy, thro' the trials of this mortal life, " And the merits of her ever bleffed Redeemer, *' To be received into the manfions of eternal happinefs," A 4 SUBSCRIBERS. His Royal Highncfs George Prince of Wales. Her Royal Highnefs the Princess of Wales. Her Royal Highnefs Princess Sophia. Her Royal Highnefs Princess Amelia, A AnCASTER, Duchefs of Albemarle, Countefs Dowager of Aileftjury, Countefs Dowager of Apreece, Lady A'Court, Lady Afhby, George, Efq. 6 Copies Afhby, Mrs. 6 Copies Afhby, Rev. George Apreece, S. A. Efq. Apreece, Mrs, Apreece, Mifs Ainflie, Mrs. Andre, Mifs Andre, Mifs A. Ackworth, B. B. Efq. Allix, John, Efq. AUix, Mrs. Allix, Mrs. Charles Arden, Mrs. Afkew, Afkew, Mifs Andrew, Rev. Robert Allen, Captain, Royal Navy Akers, Mrs. 2 Copies Anderfon, John, Efq. Abbott, Mrs. Acland, Mrs. B Bath, Marchionefs of Buckinghamihire, Earl of Buckinghamfhire, Countefs of Bentinck, Lord Edward, 6 Copies Bentinck, Lady'^Edward, 6 Copies Bagot, Lord Bellingham, Lady Barrington, Honourable Mrs. Barnard, General Barnard, Mrs, Benyon, Mrs. Batley, Mrs. Budge, William, Efq. Bowdler, Thomas, Efq. Bowdler, Mifs Bowdler, Mrs. H. 3 Copies Budcock, William, Efq. Badcock, Mrs. Baniiifter, Mifs Bannifter, John, Efq. Bulkley, Col. Coldftream Regiment Burnett, John F. Efq. Burnett, Mrs. Brereton, Mrs. Brent, Brent, Timothy, Efq. Bolton, William, Efq. Bentley, Mrs. James Cumberland Brickwood, Mrs. 2 Copies Bird, Henry Merttins, Efq. Bird, Mrs. Merttins Bland, Jofeph, Efq. Bagot, Honourable, Efq. Baker, Captain Bainbridge, Launcelot, Efq, Benfon, Rev. Martin Bowes, Mifs, 3 Copies Benfield, Mrs. Book Society, Ladies Burney, Rev. Charles, LL.D. Burney, Mrs. Barrett, Mrs. Bryan, Mifs Bernard, Mrs. Bludworth, Mrs. Blifard, Mrs. Benfon, Mrs. Breafe, Mr. Bacon, Mrs. Buckle, Mifs Bainbridge, Mifs Mary Bertie, Mrs. Buckner, Mifs Beaver, Rev. James, Grp, Chr'ijl, College^ Oxfard BuUivant, ., Efq. BuUivant, Mifs Bateman, Mifs Bunny, Mrs. Booth, Booth, Mrs. Ann, 2 Copies Butt, Mrs. Burdett, Mifs Burdett, Mifs Frances Bofcawen, Geo:ge, Efq. Blencowe, Colonel Blencowe, Mrs. 2 Copies Barwell, Mrs. Baldwin, Mr. John Baldwin, Mrs. Baldwin, Mils Bullock, John, Efq. Bingham, Mrs. Braithwaite, , Efq. Barker, Mifs Boddington, Samuel, Efq. Clarendon, Earl of Compton, Hon. Lady Frances Caftleftewart, Lady Clonbrook, Lady Cumberland, Lady Albinia Cave, Rev. Sir Charles Cave, Lady Cave, Mifs Collins, John, Efq. Collins, Mrs. Collins, Mifs Cowper, William, Efq. Carter, Mrs. Elizabeth Cumberland, Richard, Efq. Cumberland, Mrs. Cumberland, Cumberland, Mif; Cumberland, Captain Charles Cumberland, Captain William, Royal Navy Clark, Mrs. Crefwell, Mifs Calvert, Mrs. T. Coote, Mrs. Cotten, , Efq. Cotten, Mrs. Cotten, Mrs. S. Coxe, Mrs. Cox, Mifs Cox, Mifs C. Carden, James, Efq. Courthope, Mrs. Carlyle, Rev. Do(Slor Carlyle, Mrs. Cornforth, Mrs. Cartwright, Edmond, Efq. Chriftie, Mifs Clarke, Mrs. Coxe, Mrs. E. Chriftie, Mrs. Corbett, Robert, Efq. Corbett, Mrs. 2 Copies Caldwell, Mifs Curtance, Mifs Cotten, Rev. Mr. Campbell, Mifs Cocks, Mil's. 2 Sets Cookfon, Mrs. Clayton, Mrs. Cornwallis, JameSj Efq. Creffe, Mrs. Chijders Childers, Mrs. Cooper, Mrs. Cipriani, , Efq. Chapeau, Mrs. D Durham, Bifhop of Dundas, Lady Jane Dormer, Sir Clement Cottercl Dormer, Lady Clement Cotterel Dafhwood, Mrs. Dafhwood, Mrs. A. Dafliwood, Mifs Dalton, Mrs. Durham, Captain, Royal Navy Downes, Rev. Andrew, 2 Copies Downes, Mrs. 2 Copies Pay, Thomas, Efq. Davis, Mrs. J. Dumbleton, Mrs. Dobbs, . , Efq. Dixon, Mr. Richard Douglas, Mrs. Denifon, Mrs. Denton, Mifs Dickenfon, C. Efq. Du Cane, Mrs. Mary Du Cane, Mifs Donavon, Mrs. Dougan, Mrs. Dod, Mifs Mary Ann Doughty, Robert, Efq. Doughty, Mrs. Davis, Davis, P. Efq. Dawfon, Mrs. E Englefield, Sir Henry, Bart, Englefield, Lady Edwards, Lady England, Major General Etherington, Colonel Etherington, Major Ellis, John, Efq. Ellis, Mrs. Evans, Mr. I ^ . T? IV T ( ^^ Copies Evans, Mrs. 1 '^ Ekins, Mrs. S. Fielding, Lady Frodderl}-, Lady Edvi^ard Foote, G. T. Hatley, Efq. 2 Copies ' Foote, George, Efq. jun. Foote, Rev. Robert Foote, Mrs. Robert Foote, Mrs. John Foote, Mrs. Foote, Mifs Fanfhaw, Mrs. Fanfliaw, Mifs Frafer, Mrs. Fryer, Henry, Efq. Francis, Rev. J. E, Fourdrinier, Mrs, Fra;ikland, Mrs. Fauntlcrojy Fauntleroy, Mrs. Farquhar, Mrs. Fremeaux, Mifs E. Forbes, Mrs. Forth, Mrs. 2 Copies G Gloucefter, Bifhop of Graham, Sir James, Bart. Graham, Lady Catharine Graham, Rev. Mr. Graham, Mrs. Glynn, Do6lor Green, Thomas, Efq. 3 Copies Green, Mrs. 3 Copies Green, John Cheale, Efq. Green, Mrs. Green, Mrs. Green, Mrs. Green, Rev. Thomas Gordon, Mrs. George Gulftone, Frederick, Efq. Gulftone, Mrs. Gayfere, Mils Gwathie, Mrs. Greaves, Mrs. Gray, Charles Gordon, Efq. Gray, Mrs. 2 Copies Gould, Mrs. Gofling, Airs. Garratt, Mrs. 3 Copies Ginger, Mr. Ginger, Mrs. Ginger, Ginger, Mr. William Gjrardot, Andrew, Efq. Girardot, Mrs. Gale, Airs. Gower, Mifs Gilpin, Mrs. Gordan, Mrs. Grenville, General Gitfon, Mr. Glbbes, Mrs. 2 Copies Gibfon, John, Efq. Greame, Charles, Efq. Harborough, Earl of Harborough, Countefs of Hartley, Lady Louifa Hawley, Sir Henry, Bart. Hawley, Lady Hefketh, Lady He tries. Lady, 2 Copies Hanbury, William, Efq. Hanbury, Mrs. Hanbury, Mifs Hartopp, Sir Edmond Hatfcll, John, Efq. Hatfcil, Mrs. Hervey, Dolor Hervey, Mrs. Elizabeth Hunter, Mrs. Halhed, Mrs. Henderfon, Francis, Efq. Hendcrfon, Mrs. Hard, Hurd, Captain, (Royal Navy) Hurd, Mrs. Holroyd, Mrs. Hunt, Mifs Horft, Mrs. Heydon, Mrs. Hobfon, George, Efq. Hay, Captain, (Royal Navy) Hurft, Mr. Hughes, Rev. William Hughes, John, Efq. 6 Copies Hughes, Mifs E. Homage, Mrs. Hill op, Mrs. Harman, Mr. 2 Copies Hungerford, Mrs. Harrifon, Mrs. Frances Hervey, Mr. Hind, Mr. Charles Hart, Mrs. I. Ifliam, Lady Jones, Lady Ifliam, Mrs. Jones, Mifs Jackfon, Francis, Efq. Jackfon, Mrs. Jackfon, Mifs Ifled, Mrs. 3 Copies Tiled, Mifs Lied, Mifs R. Iftcd, MifsC. Jephfon, Jephfon, Major Jephfon, Mrs. Ifted, Samuel, Efq. Ifted, Mrs. S. Johnfon, Mifs Jefferies, Mifs Jekyle, Mifs Iremonger, Mifs K. King, Admiral Sir Richard King, Mifs Knatchbull, Charles, Efq. Knatchbull, Mrs. Charles Knatchbull, Mrs. Joe Kerr, Mrs. 3 Copies Kenfington, Mrs. Kenfington, Mifs Charlotte Kingfcote, Thomas, Efq. Kingfcote, Mrs. Knight, Mrs. Knox, David, Efq. Kinderfly, Mrs. Kemble, John, Efq. Kemble, Mathew, Efq. Kemble, W. Efq. London, Bifliop of Leeds, Duke of Leeds, Duchefs of, 3 Copies JLitchfield, Bifhop of b 2 Lumley, Lumley, Lady Sophia Lilford, Lord Lilford, Lady Langham, Dowager Lady Langham, Sir William Langham, Lady Langham, Alifs Langham, Mifs C. Langham, Mr. Lofack, Richard Hawicfliaw, Efq. Lofack, Mrs. Lofack, Richard, Efq. Lofack, Mrs. Richard Lofack, Colonel Lofack, Captain, (Royal Navy) Lofack, Lieutenant Woodley, (Royal Navy) Lloyd, Mrs. Lafcelles, William, Efq. Lambert, William, Efq. Lambert, Daniel, Efq. Langton, , Efq. Ledge, Mrs. 3 Copies Long, William, Efq. 6 Copies Long, Mrs. 3 Copies Leech, Mr. 3 Copies Lo{h, Mr. James A Lady. Lcgge, Honorable Captain, (Royal Navy) Lill, Mrs. Latham, Mrs. 2 Copies Latham, Mifs Latham, William Afliby, Efq. Latham, Mrs. Afhby Liimb, Lamb, Mrs. Lucas, Mrs. Lindon, Efq. M. Mount Edgecomb, Earl of Mount Edgecomb, Countefs of Monfon, Lady Dowager Monfon, Lady McDonald, Lady Louifa Montgomery, Lady Mary Merrick, Lady Lucy Mildmay, Lady Mann, Sir Horace Mann, James, Efq. Mann, Mrs. Mann, Mifs Montagu, Mrs. Murray, General Murray, Mrs. Manning, William, Efq. M. P. Manning, Mrs. Merrick, Mrs. Money, General Maude, Mrs. Mac Doughty, Mrs. Morley, Rev. Thomas Wilfon^ 7 ^ Qq^Iq^ Morley, Mrs. J Marftiall, Mr. Myers, William, Efq. Merle, Mrs. Moore, James, Efq. b 3 Mumia Miinn, Mr. 2 Copies Martin, James, Efq. M. P. Martin, Mrs. Marfli, Commiflioner More, Mrs. Hannah Mathews, Lieutenant, 89th Regiment Morris, Mrs. Mehnoth, Mrs. Maynard, Thomas, Efq, Maynard, Mrs. Mctcalfej Mrs. Maltby, Mifs Mathews, Mrs. B. M'^Kenzie, Captain, 23d Regiment Madden, Lieutenant Colonel, Staffordihire Militia Mowbray, Captain, Royal Navy Moore, Captain, - ditto Mayhew, Chriftopher, Efq, Maunfel, Mrs. Maddock, John, Efq. Maddock, Mrs. Maddock, Mafter Afliby Marfhall, Mrs. Myddelton, Rev. Doctor, 3 Set5 Myddelton, Mrs. Robert Myddelton, Rev. John Middelton, A4rs. N. Northampton, Countcfs of NorthcfK, Lord Northcfk, Lady Neale, Sir Harry Burrard Neale, Neale, Lady H. Burrard Neville, Chriftopher, Efq. Neville, Mrs. Noel, Lieutenant Colonel Nicholls, the Rev. Robert Bouchier, Dean of Middleham, 3 Copies Norton, George, Efq. 3 Copies Newbolt, Rev. Mr. Nicolay, Frederic, Efq. o. Orlebar, Richard, Efq. Ord, Mrs. Ottley, A. Efq. Orlebar, Mrs. 2 Copies Otvi^ay, Mrs. Oglevie, Mifs O'Brien, Captain, (Royal Navy) P. Peachy, Lady Peyton, Lady Parker, Admiral Sir Peter Parker, Mifs Porteus, Mrs. Povi^nall, Lieutenant Colonel 1 n Pownall, Mrs. J Pownall, Mrs. Pownall, Mifs Pov/nall, J. Lillingfton, Efq, Pownall, Mrs. J. L. Pownall, Mrs. Pery, Mrs. J. b4 Pratt, Pratt, Mrs. Peek, Rev. Mr. Peele, Mrs. Preft, Mrs. Patrick, Mrs. Perceval, Honorable Mrs. 3 Copiet Pitt, Thomas, Efq. Pitt, Mrs. Parfons, William, Efq. Pelham, Mrs. Creflet Pelham Powys, Mrs. Phillips, Captain, 44th Regiment Partley, Mrs. T. Pares, Thomas, Efq. Pares, Mifs, 2 Copies Pares, Mrs. Pares, Thomas, Efq. jun. Pares, John, Efq. Pares, Rev. William Pares, Mrs. Powis, Rev. Littleton Payne, John, Efq. Payne, Rene, Efq. Popple, John, Efq. Pennant, David, Efq, Pennant, MiS. Phillipps, Thomas March, Efq, Phillipps, Mrs. Phill pps, Mifs Padley, Mrs. Packe, Charles James, Efq. Packe, Mrs. Packe, Packe, Mifs jPacke, Mifs Frances Packe, Mifs M. R. Robinfon, Sir George, 6 Copies Robinfon, Lady, 3 Copies Robinfon, Mrs. Reynolds, Richard, Efq. 7 r-> - T. , J A r ^ [ 20 Copies Reynolds, Mrs. J Reynolds, Mrs. Robertfon, Colonel, (Weftminfter Volunteers) Robertfon, Mrs. Rambouillet, Mrs. Randolph, Mrs. Rie, Mrs. Relfe, Mr- Relfe, Mr. J. Ray, Mrs. Reade, Mrs. Reade, Mifs Reade, John, Efq. Reade, Mrs. John Rocke, Mrs. Rofe, Mr. (Surgeon, Coldftr earn Regiment) Rogers, Samuel, Efq. (Author of the Pleafures of Memory) Ridge, Thomas, Efq. Ridge, Mrs. Ridge, Mr. Thomas Rafhicigh, Mrs. Romney, George, Efq. 3 Sets Ricketts, Mrs. Rickett?, Ricketts, Mrs. George Ridfdale, Mjs. Rollefoii, Major R;!1s, Mrs. Reade, Edward, Efq. Rogers, S. Efq. Rogers, Henry, Efq. Rokcby, Mrs. Rokcby, Mifs Richards, Mifs Roberts, Mifs Eleanora Ravvlinfon, Efq. Ruddlhall, Richard, Efq. Sheffield, Lady Shipley, Mrs. Shipley, Mifs Strode, Mrs. Sotheby, Mrs. Shaw, John, Efq. Sattcrthwaite, Mrs. Staunton, Mrs. Sturges, Rev. Mr. Stranbcnzee, Mrs. Sharp, Mifs Shasp, Richard, Efq. Sykes, Sir Francis Sykes, Lady Savage, Mrs. Savage, Benjamin, Eiq. Savage, Mrs. B. Smith, Mr?. Smith, Smith, Mifs Smith, Mr. Story, Rev. Philip Story, Mrs. Story, Mifs Spencer, Henry, Efq, Stuart, Charles, Efq. Stanley, Mrs. Somarfall, Thomas, Efq. Somarfall, Mifs Somarfall, Mifs Mary Smith, Mrs. Smith, Mrs. Smith, Mrs. Strutt, Mrs. Sheriff, Mrs. 2 Copies Stewart, Mrs. Charles Straitfield, Mrs. 3 Copies Short, Mrs. Stower, Captain, 24th Regiment Salkeld, Thomas, Efq. Shaw, Rev. Mr, Southbey, Mifs Seward, William, Efq. Sharp, William, Efq. Sharp, Mifs Squire, Mr. William Stockdalc, Rev. William Stephenfon, Mrs. T. Talbot, Rev. William Talbot, Mrs. Thomas, Rev. J. B, D, Terry, Terry, Mrs. Taylor, Mifs Mary Thomas, Thomas, Efq. 2 Copies Thomas, Mr. Thomas, Mifs Thompfon, Mrs. 3 Copies Thompfon, Peter, Efq. . Townley, Mifs Tov/ne, Rev. Mr. Townc, Mrs. Trower, H. Efq, Trower, Mrs. Tippet, Mrs. Taylor, Rev. Mr. Tatham, Mrs. 2 Copies Tufton, J. F. Efq. Thornton, Rev. Robert Train, Mrs. Thornton, Mrs, jun. Tymns, Mrs. Gtforge Thompfon, Narbonne, Efq. V. Viilars, Lady Charlotte Vaughan, Mrs. 2 Copies Vaughan, Mrs. Vaarittart, Mrs. Vaux, Mrs. Vanneck, Hononrable Mrs. Vanburgh, Mrs. Warwick, w. Warwick, Earl of, 6 Copies Warwick, Countefs of, 6 Copi-es Wilfon, Lady Wilfon, Rev. George Wilfon, Mrs. Wright, Henry, Efq. 3 Copies Wright, Mrs. Wraight, William, Efq. White, Dodtor, Royal Navy White, Mrs. Walter, John, Efq. Walter, Mifs Walter, William, Efq. Walter, John, Efq. jun. Williams, Mrs. Woodington, Mifs Wathen, Mr. Winftanley, Mrs, Webfter, Mrs. Waughs, Mrs. 3 Copies Walters, Mrs. 5 Copies Wilkie, Mrs. Wingfield, Rev. Charles Whalley, Mrs. Wigglefworth, Mrs. Whitaker, Mrs. Weftern, Mrs. Frances Weftern, Rev. Sherley Weftern, Rev. Walfingham Weftern, Mrs. Watfon, Mifs W-' aiter, Walter, Mrs. Willcs, Rev. Mr. White, Mr. Whalley, Rev. Palmer Wh:J:ey, Mrs. S. Wai:, Mlfs S. Wilsford, Mrs. Williams, Gregory, Efq. Williams, Mrs. Y. Young, Dowager Lady, 3 Copies Young, Mr. Young, Mrs. Young, Profeflbr Young, Mrs. Young, Mrs. Young, Mrs. Robert Young, Mifs Young, Doctor York, Mrs. %iji^ CONTENTS. ji Ftfio lion ---------- I Written on new yearns day ------ 5 The rofe tree and the poppy : a fable - - - 8 Written on Eajler-day ------- j^. On fenfih'ility --_----__ 17 A hymn -----------20 The chimney -fweeper'' s complaint - - - - 22 The hive of bees : a fable written in December ^ 1792 ------------ 25 On the human heart _---___2l On pleafure --------- ^^j On what the world will fay - _ _ _ _ ^ 7 77^1? body politic --------- 43 Written at Harrowgate ------ 4^ InJlruQiovu^fuppofed to be written in Paris, for the mob in E}i gland -------48 Ffalm CXXXIX 50 A hyinn --------_-_ ^4 An aimt^s lamentation for the abfence of her niece: written from Hajiings - - - - 56 On the death of David Garrick, Efq. - - - 5^ The corfned debtor : a fragment from a prlfon 6 1 The LVth pfahn --------7^ Addreffed to feep --------7^ Written in Ireland --------78 Modern manners -------8j: On raillery: written in May 178 1, for the vafe at Bath-eaflon -------- 84 The 8//^j 9?/;, and lOih verfes of the $']thplafm 86 Hymri CONTENTS. JHymn -----------88 A receipt for writing a novel ----- 59 The power of fancy., written for the vafe at Bath-eaflon ---------94 The XXIUd Pfahn 97 From the Xllth chapter of St, Marl{^^\Jlverfc, to the end - - - ------ lOI Uyinn -----i-- -- -- 102 To a certain author^ on his writing a prologue, ivherein he defcribes a traveller frozen in a fnowflorm - --------105 Jn return for the prefent of a pair of buckles - 106 The air balloon - - - - ----107 The LXIIId Pfalm - II2 Hymn - ----------I14 A college life : for the vafe at Bath-eafion - - 115 On the violent debates in the Houfe of Peers, upon the bill for fifpcncling the Habeas Corpus, i^ci 118 Epigram ---------- 119 A parody upon, " who dares to kill Kildare," - 120 A parody upon Siviffs nurje'' s fovig - - - - 12 1 Riddles -----------124. Charades - ---------125 Upon reading feme verfes upon a fcuU - - - 127 JVritten at Siuandling Bar^ in Ireland - - 133 Afong, to the time of, " j^ belles and yc firts,^^ 136 A party at quadrille - - - - ---139 IVr'itten from Bath to a friend in the co^intry, in the year 17S3 - - - ;- - - - H5 Extrafls f-o?n EccLfaficus, <3c. - - - - 150 Tho Scribbler : \Jl paper - - - - - 173 Do. i id paper - - ---17B Do. ' 3^/ paper ----- 182 iOtw POEMS. 4c3i4^^ A VISION; iVlETHOuGHT a boundlcfs plain entranc'd I view'd> Beyond what waking eye could ever fcan, With thoufand and ten thoufand flocks beftrew'd. Emblems, I foon defcried, of fallen man. Thro' tangled wilds and crooked ways with fpeed Numbers I faw on numbers heedlefs run, Yet oft they ftopt to crop each pois'nous weed^ That Iliew'd it's gaudy colours to the fun. With ( 2 ) With grkf I mark'd their fleeces torn and renfy As thru' the brambles eagerly they rufli'd. Some, on their own and other's ruin bent, Turn'd round enrag'd, and at each other pufh'd. The young their folds and fertile vales forfcok. And vcnt'rous climb'd the wild and craggy rocky But foon the wolf the ftraggling lamb o'ertook. Who niflily dar'd to leave the parent flock. A creneral bleatinq; now alTaird mine ear In tones expreflive of the deepeft woe ; " Alas !" I cried, " are there no fhepherds near^ " No guides the ftrait, the even wMy to fhov/ ?" When turning to the Eafc my enquiring eye, (With double flrength it's vifual pow'r rcnew'd) The ^'iiin, the beaten path I did efpy Ti;: ' verdant vales with guides and folds beftrew'd. " Ah, ( 5 ) ** Ah, wretched flieep,'* lamenting then I cried, '* Why leave ye thus your folds and fofl'ring guides ? ** Undone ye are, and, loll by your own pride, " Yeftiun thofe helps which bounteous Heav'n provides.'* But oh ! how can my feeble verfe pourtray The glorious vilion, which I then furvey'd. When ail refplendent as the blaze of day. The Shepherd came in majefty array 'd ? Such heavenly light refulgent beam'd around, Swift o'er the wide expanfe I faw it fpread. Such words benignant in mine ears did found. As cheer'd the hving and reviv'd the dead. Methought all nature feem'd to bloom anew, The barren defert blofTom'd as the rofe, The parched wildernefs appear'd to view As paftures green, where living water flows. B 2. Thei ( 4 ) There at his foothing call, and fafe from harm, With tendereft care his flocks the Shepherd fed. The feeble lambs he gather'd with his arm, And gently thofe that were with young he led. Obedient to the heavenly Shepherd's call, Gafping with thirfl I hafted to the ftream, There in his prefence on my knees I fall. Then wake, and ftart from my enraptur'd dream. et-j^^ ( 5 ) WRITTEN ON NEW YEAR'S DAY. Doth not, my foul, each circling year Remind me that I muft appear Before my heav'nly King, In whofe bleft fight man's longeft age Is but a momentary llage, That flits on fwiftell wing ? Then fay, thou pure, thou heav'n-born fire. Why dofl thou not with fond defire Subdue this inward fear ? So might I with afpiring mind Prefs on, nor caft a look behind, Nor figh to linger here. ( f ) My will moft freely I rcfign To thee, my judge, oh ! make it thine In word, in deed, in thought: So fliall I find contentment here, Nor flirink from death, tho' death draw near With all his terrors fraught. No fting in death but fin is found. And fince our God hath heal'd that wound. What have we here to dread ? *Tis our's to praife Him and ohey. Look up to Him from day to-day. To give us heav'nly bread. Teach me to wait with humble truft, To hope the beft, nor fear the worft In this life's varying round ; And when I meet misfortune's blow. Teach me fubmiffion, that may fliow On what my joys I found. Oh ( 7 ) Oh then vouchfafe thy heavenly aid To lead me thro' the gloomy (hade Of worldly grief and care ; Supported by thy foft'ring hand. Let me temptation's lure withftahd. And chace 2Lway defpair. Thus fhall you pafs ferenely o'er, Ye circling years, whilfl; I implore The God, who gives me breath, To lead me on from day to day Secure in virtue's holy way, l^efign'd to life or death, 9j!^r^ li 4 THE ROSE TREE AND THE POF?Y.. A TAB'LE. Deep in a lone fequefler'd grove A beauteous Rofe-tree grew s It's bloffoms breath'd perfume as f'refh As morn's ambrofia] dew. Each fpreading branch luxuriant flrew'd The verdant turf below, And high it's blooming head it rear'd. And made a lovely fhew. Yet not it's flowers of choicefl hue. It's branches fpreading wide, It's lofty head or rich perfume Provok'd one fpark of pride. Humbly ( 9 ) Humbly to every breeze it bovv-'d. That gently fann'd each tree, And courteoufly difpens'd it's fweets To the induflrious bee. Near to it's molTy ftem there fprung A flower fpontaneous-bred, A fingle Poppy, 'twas no more, It's hue a vivid red. With envy fir'd, the Poppy cried . Your boughs exclude the light. Your fmell affefts my head, in fhort. You're odious to my fight. Your fhatter'd leaves bellrew the ground. Your dew-drops fall like tears, Your ftraggling buds grow wild and rude. Your thorns alarm my fears. What ( lO : What tho' you deck Belinda's brcaii, Or twine in Delia's hair. You never long enjoy your bJifs, But droop and wither there. What tha* the painter may compare Your tints with Chloe's bioom> Or poet madly may exclaim. Her breatii is your perfume. Such flattering rhapfodies may plant Sharp thorns in Chloe's bre:.!!, Like thofe that arm thy venom'd flalkj, And rob her mind of red. Wlulit I am known of fovcrcign power To calm the aching fenlc, So foporific is my juice. Such peace can I uifpcnic. 'i h ( " ) 'Tis I can lull the monarch's care, I blunt the edge of pain ; Then fay, thou fplendid trifling flirub. If I am born in vain. But thou with indolence fupine. In garden or in grove. Art only form'd to be the foo4 Of poetry and love. But that I longer fcorn to plead". Or half your faults relate, Elfe could I tell how oft you've caus'4 Commotions in the ftate ^ Commotions of the deepeft dye. With your own kindred bred ; Witnefs the well known feuds betwixt The White-rQfe and the Red. Such ( 12. ) Such rebel livery '^I dlfdain, Tho' white as pared fnow ; You're- only ia falfe colouring dreft To ftrike the deadlier blow. The Poppy paused when thus the Kok III accent mild replied : All ! let us not in conteft try What we can ne'er decide. Know that 'tis Providence bellows To each it's proper iliare ; Thus you receive a l>caling powei\ Wliilil 1 n:!ay be more fu-ir. Then let u'^ each our lot rccei\e5 And Ib.ankfuliy improve. So fliali }-our enmity be turn'd To kiendlbip, peace, and love. Ah, { '3 ) Ah, had not envy touch'd your root> In me no faults you'd found ; But floop your head, and deign to vievr Thofe Daifies on the ground. No gaudy colouring can they boaft. No healing power have they ; Yet flill they fmiiing fill their fpace, And thus they feera to fay : ** Learn mortals,- learn to be content, " Let pride and envy ceafe, ** So fhall your ways be ft rev/ 'd with flowers ji " And all your paths be peace." tu^h^ C 14 ) WRITTEN ON EASTER BAY. Glad tidings hath my Saviour brought To cheer the drooping mind. And mighty wonders hath he wrought This day for loft mankind. . Awake ! caft off the works of niglit. The facred page explore, There view how life is brought to lights And there thy God adore. There thou mayTt drown each fiavifii fear, There hear thy God proclaim Peace and falvation far and near To all, who love his name. Can ( '5 ) Can gratitude, can duty move ? Can faith or hope infpire ? Doth pious zeal, doth fervent love Thy foul with ardour fire ? Here may thy mind with full delight Each faculty employ ; Here, rapt in thought, bring to thy light Immortal fcenes of joy. For as our dear Redeemer role. And overcame the grave. We may in his bleil word repofe, And He our fouls will fave. Death is no longer now our foe, Nor can for vidorx' 'Irivei For fmce by man came death and woe, By Chrift we're made alive. Methink^ ( i6 ) Methinks I look beyond this fccnd Of pain, and grief, and fear, To manfions where our God fhall reign, And wipe away each tear. What heart but mufl: with rapture burn To meet fuch heav'nly love ! Come, then, my foul, and ftrive to earn The joys that are above. Be ftcdfafl then, thy faith maintain,. In goodnefs flill abound ; So fliall thy labour not be vain, But by thy God be crown'd. ^J0^ ( 17 ) ON SENSIBILITY. I F e'er to Friendflilp's call you lent an ear. Or fympathyfing dropt the Toothing tear, Oh, Senfibility, receive my prayer ! Attend, and pardon that I feek to know. If in a world fo fraught with various woe. Thy votaries find thee moft their friend or foe. Thy joys and griefs alike let me furvey. Then fairly aik thee if thy joys repay Thofe pangs, which foon or late the heart will rend. Where thou art nourifh'd as the gentleft friend. When rude misfortune, with refiftlefs fway. Tears from that heart what moft it loves away ; Whilft feelingly alive to every pain. Thro' thee it taftes each forrow o'er again ; c Thus, ( i8 ) Thus, cruili'd beneath Affliftion's heavitft blow. It bears a double weight of human woe : Ah cruel, thus to flcal into the heart. And cherifli'd there to act a traitor's part. Come then. Indifference, thou eafy gueft, Aflume the empire o'er my tortur'd breafr. And by thy trifling, pleafmg, giddy fway, Chace every heart-corroding pang away; Teach me another's griefs unmov'd to hear. And guard my eye againft the falling tear ; Drive recolleftion from her inmoft feat. Nor let my heart with agitation beat 3 Be thou my champion thro' life's varying round, And fliield my bofom from the flighteft wound. Yet paufe awhile ! and let me take a view. Left with the pains I lofe hfe's pleafures too. Say, doth not duty, love, and friendfnip give. The greateft pleafures we can here receive ; And ( 19 ) And can a heart untouch'd by others woe, The joys of friendfhip, love, and duty know ? If fuch the purehafe to be freed from pain, Oh, Senfibility, to thee again I turn do thou my every thought control, 'Tis thine to animate or foothe the foul ; 'Tis thine alone thofe feelings to beftow. From which the fource of every good doth jfiow; Since thefe thy joys, thy griefs I'll patient bear. And humbly take of each th' allotted fhare ; To Friendflirp's fhrlne the ready tribute bring, And fly to Sorrow on Compaffion's wing. Enjoy the good, againft the worft provide. By taking Refignation for my guide. In her fafe condud; patiently fubmit To every pain, which Providence thinks fit. C 2 ( 20 ) A HYMN. My God, whofe all-pervading eye Scans earth beneath and heav'n above, Witnefs if here or there thou fee'fl An objcd: of mine equal love. Not the gay fcciies, where mortal men Purfue their blifs, and find their woe, Detain my rifing heart, which fprings The nobleft joys of Heav'n to know. Not all tlie faircfl fons of light, That lead the army round thy throne. Can bound it's courfc, it prefleth on, And feeks it's refb in God alone. Fixt ( 21 ) Fixt near the immortal fource of blifs, Firm and undaunted it furveys Each fhape of horror and diflrefs, That Earth combin'd with Hell can raife. This feeble ilefh Ihall faint and die, This heart renew it's pulfe no more ; Ev'n now it views the moment nigh, When life's laft movements fhall be o'er. Thou vanquilh'd King of Terrors, come ! With thine own hand thy power deftroy j Approach, and bear my foul to God, My portion and eternal joy. ^iJi^fn ( 22 ) THE CHIMNEY-SWEEPER'S COMPLAINT. A CHIMNEY fweeper's boy am Ij Pity my wretched fate ! Ab, turn your eyes; 'twould draw a tear. Knew you my hclplefs flate. Far from my home, no parents I Am ever coom'd to fee j Ivly maflcr, Hiould I fue to him, He'd flog the f^in from me. Ah, dearefl Madam, dcareft Sir, Have pity on my youth y Tho' black, and cover'd o'er wiUi rags, 1 tell you nought but truth. Mv ( 23 ) My feeble limbs, benumb'd with cold, Totter beneath the fack. Which ere the morning dawn appears Is loaded on my back. My legs you fee are burnt and bruis'd, My feet are gall'd by ftones, My flefli for lack of food is gone, I'm little elfe but bones. Yet ftill my mafter makes me work, Nor fpares me day or night ; His 'prentice boy he fays I am, And he will have his right. " Up to the higheft top," he cries, " There call out chimney-fweep!" V/ith panting heart and weeping eyes Trembling I upwards creep. c 4. Br. ( 24 ) But flop ! no more I fee him come ; Kind Sir, remember me ! Oh, could 1 hide me under ground, IJow thankful fliould I be ! ^4{^^ ( ^5 ) THE HIVE OF BEES: A FABLE, WRITTEN IN DECEMBER 1792. In antient legends of pail time we find. Birds, beafts, and infedls us'd to fpeak their mind, And oft by fable ferious truths impart To mend the morals and to ftrikc the heart : Nay Solomon himfelf would deign to fay. Go to the Ant, thou iluggard ! learn her way. But now. alas! in th-j.e degenerate times, Infers have learn'd from men to ape their crimes i The fable's turn'd falfe morals now are fhewn In place of true. a fad reverfe you'll own. A hive of bees within a certain grove Had long enjoy'd contentment, peace, and love, Fe4 ( 26 ) Fed on each fource of fweet that earth beftows, Ev'n from the cowflip to the (lately rofe ; Each morn had fipp'd of dew from Heav'n, which fell And iodg'd in filver'd cup or golden bell ; Kad drawn the neclar of each fragrant flower To carry trcalure^ to their native bower. And there in cells of curious form they ftor'd Their fcveral tributes to the general hoard ; Then fafe at night were ilielter'd by thofe bowers^ AVhcre firll they fwarm'd, when in their infant hours : Each morn they fallied with the riiing fun. Is or e'er returned yntil their taik was done; For arts and induftry had made them great. And fcemingly had fix'd their happy flate i A itate, 'v^here nature's policy doth trace To every bee his ftation, rank, and place : Some form'd to labeuir for the public good. Others to nurfe the young, and chew their food ; Some on the watch as centinels between Whatever daiigcr may aiiaii their queen -, 1-or ( 27 ) For every hive is in itfelf protected, Whilfl to it's fovereign it is well affecled. But now no further to dilate my flor}', This hive, when at it's hlgheft pitch of glorv'^. Like other flates did fubjeds ftill contain Of difcontented mind and lieated brain. Prone to adopt and lead fome new opinion, Spurning reftraint, and grafping at dominion; Thefe oft with greedy lifl'nlng ear repair'd Clofe to a neighb'ring hive, from whence they heard A murm.uring hum, as if from difcpntent, Of liberty, no queen, no government i Let all be equal, and thefe lordly drones Be fet to work to fhape thefe ugly cones : 'TIS flaver}^ I fwear- no more will I Lag home with honey in my bag and thigh, Much fooner will I dart my lling and die. I Thus faying, oft their meafures they'd debate. And in convention plot againft: the ftat^ j ( ^8 } But Iicre diforder mavk-'d tlicir wretched way. Each claim'd his right, a right to bear the fway^ And left the loyal bees their haunts (liould fee. They dar'd not light upon a flower or tree, Where aught of i'ubftance, fit for daily food> Might be extracted for the public goodj But confcious of their bafe intent, they fliua Vy^latever fpreads its blofToms to the fun, And to the deadly nightfbade darkling flew. Or on the hemlock fwarm'd, or pois'nous yew. And there their mifchiefs hatch'd in fell debate. There plann'd the downfal of their queen and (late : So loud they buzz'd their murmurs thro' the tree?. Of liberty, no work the rights of bees That echo fwift convey'd the infectious found. And Liberty no work rebellow'd round. Their ])iGt now ripe, they aft the fatal fcene. Murder the guards, and then ccnfir.e their queen ; Rebellion ( 29 ) Rebellion buzzes thro' the (Iraw-built dome- ** Seize, feize the honey, and lay walle the comb I " Deftroy each cell, for labour now is o'er, " We'll feaft and revel on the public ftore." And now how gladly would I draw a veil O'er the remaining fequel of my tale ; But recent fa<5ls require I fliould relate How bad example marr'd the happy ftate. Tho' moft with horror heard the foul difgrace Brought on the nobleft of the infecfl race. Yet thofe Vvho had enlilled in the plan, And long'd like them to copy after man, Now vend their poilbns, and in trcafonb dire Againft their friends, their queen, their hive confpirc, Whilft fvvarms from forth the rebel fiiate combine To profecute the horrible defign. And, fhame to tell, tho' courteoufly rcceiv'd, League againfc thofc by v/hom they are reliev'd. Aroused C 30 ) Arous'd at length, the loyal bees unite To fave their flate, and arm them for the fight. True to their fovereign, who with gentle fway So mildly ruFd, 'twas freedom to obey ; And now behold them ea2:er and alert To expel the traitors and their fchemcs avert ; Taught by examples terrible as thcfe, That faftion blafts the happinefs of bees, Aftivc they keep their vigilance alive To guard their monarch, property, and hive. ^^0^ ( St ) ON THE HUMAN HEART. Say, for you know, ye fecret fprings Which guide the human heart, Whence comes it that fuch trivial things Give mine fo keen a fmart ? Mine, which hath known fuch real woes, Such real ills hath borne ; If having flood fuch weighty blows, Why by a touch o'erthrown ? Thus have I feen the fturdy oak. Which hardly deigns to bow When the ftorm rages, by the ftrokc Of the Iharp axe laid low. The ( 32- ) The bark, which winds and waves had brav'd On many a hoflile coaft, At length from foreign dangers fav'd, In it's own port is loft. If from a friend a word I hear. Or meet a look unkind, Why from mine eye defcends the tear. And why this tortur'd mind ? And why will thofe we love thus give Thefe fmall, tho' deadly, ftings ? How fain would I no grief receive But what from Nature fprings ! Thofe forrows may I learn to bear, And humbly kifs the rod, Thro' faith and hope caft off defpaif. And give my foul to God. ( 33 ) ON PLEASURE. A LE AsuRE, hail, thou welcome theme. Chief purfuit of mortal race, Pleafing phantom, fairy dream. Lead me to thy dwelling place. There in feftive mirth and joy Smoothly glide the fportive hours ; There no cares, no griefs annoy. Where thou ftrew'ft thy golden fhowers. Long thy fuppliant fought in vain To defcry this blifsful feat. Oft I've view'd thy fmiling train Beckon to thy foft retreat. D But ( 34 ) But when near the mountain top, Where thine airy caftle ftands, Down the .beauteous pile would drop. Mouldering into barren fands. Quick the funfliine difappears, Sudden florms and tempefts roar. Sorrow leads her train in tears. Wrecks bcflrew th' affrighted fhore. Take, oh take me from the fight, Left my heart with grief fhould break j In yon vale I fpy a light. Let me to that cottage make. Oft I've read, in humble life Pieafure with Content doth dwell, Grandeur leads to pain and ftrife, Joy reigns in the lowly cell. There ( ss ) There in Virtue's lap reclin'd. Let me feek at leafl for reft, Tis not in this world defign'd Man fhould be completely bleft. Happieft when he fcorns to woo Pleafures, which, at length obtain'd> ^eafon's calmer joys fubdue, Quick t' efcape, tho' flowly gain'd. Teach me then, thou power benign, Who can'ft lafting blifs difpenfe, How to reach thofe joys divine, Bleft reward of innocence. Teach me in my prefent ftate Cheerfully to bear each ill. With fubmiffion calmly wait Th' appointment of thy heav'nly wiJh B % Then ( 36 ) Then when tranfient pleafurcs ceafc. And pain and gyrief alike are o'er, Receive me to thefe realms of peace. Where Pleafure dwells for ever more. iSi/.*^^. ( 37 ) ON WHAT THE WORLD WILL SAT. Of all the foolifh vain pretences, That mortals ufe to cheat their fenfes, This has the greateft fway Not that, which confcience dictates right, Tho' clearly mark'd as day from night. But what the World will fay. To this, as to fome idol god. Who rules us with an iron rod. We facrifice each day ; Our time, our judgment, and our eafc Alike bow down this fhrine to pleafe Thro' fear what it might fay. D 3 Thus ( 38 ) Thus fubjed: to It's bafe control. We check each motion of the foul. Which points to Reafon's way, Left, varying from the giddy throng. We rudely fliew them they are wrong. What would they then not fay ? While motives weak as thefe prevail, We turn with every fliifting fail Of Fafliion's pow'rful fway, Down her impetuous tide we're hurl'd, Loft to each comfort in the world, Thro' fear what it might fay. Thus like fomc heedlefs bark we're toft. Till foundering on that very coaft Where all cur treafure lay, Deferted and forlorn we lie, Unpitied by each ftander-by, Nor cheer'd by what they fay. Oh ( 39 ) Oh could the World that peace beftow. Which, courting it, we all forego, Our toils it well would payj But fince the fad reverfe we find, *Tis nought but madnefs e'er to mind What fuch a World can fay. %j^r?^ D 4 ( 40 ) THE BODY- POLITIC. I F in the Body-politic you fee Rebellion, rapine, blood fhed, anarchy. That fbate you fay is loft ! So when you find The body human with dlftemper'd mind, The blood corrupted, and the fever high. You doubt not to pronounce that man muft die. Now in the way of Fable we'll fuppofe Rebellion in the human frame arofe ; Eacii member loudly founded foi*:h his merit. And cried, t' obey the Head fhew'd want of fpirit ; 'Tvsas time the Limbs fliould now affcrt their part. And overturn the empire of the Heart. The ( 41 ) The ftubborn Knees declar'd no more they'd bend For God or King, nor any ftrength would lend To bear a Head of fuch unwieldy fize ; To hear and fee required not Ears and Eyes ; All parts were equal, and had each a right T' aflume the gift of hearing and of fight. Whereat the Feet ftept forth with furious found Stamping and fwearing they'd not touch the ground ; Henceforth aloft they'd rife ered in air, And make the daintier Hands the burden bear. This faid, the Hands indignant caught th' alarm. And ftruggling tried to ftparate from the Arm ; Aloud they clapp'd, and fummon'd all to fight To fix their freedom, and enforce their right. And now Convulfion feiz'd on every part, Loud beat each Pulfe, and terror fhook the Heart ; \\'ithin was heard a horrid noife and rout, The J-ifidc claiin'd the right to be the Out. The ( 4^ ) The Lungs protefted they'd not draw the breath , They car'd not if it brought on inftant death ; *Twere better all were loft than they denied The right to hold a (hare in the Outfide. The Stomach roar'd he foon wou'd flop digeftion,. If e'er his outfide right was call'd in queftion : The Veins declar'd they'd not perform their part. Nor longer throw the blood up to the Heart; The Heart might feed itfelf, or yield it's place To thofe, who'd fill it with a better grace. On this the Liver writh'd himfelf around, And fwore that long, though rotten and unfound. He'd fought that place y he now would feize the throne. For he was fit to rule, and he alone. This rous'd the Spleen, who on the vitals fed. Planning by craft the downfal of the Head ; But now o'erchargV] with envy, rage, and guile. In hade he rofe, and cvcrfet the Bile, 7 ' -:^ ( 43 ) Thus all within was agony and ftrife, Each frefh convulfion feem'd to threaten life j The Limbs diftorted rife they give the blow. And foon the Head (fo honour'd once) lay low. And now behold the Body's wretched Hate, Taught by this fad example, ere too late. That fuch each Body-politic muft be. Where foul rebellion reigns and anarchy. 9eJ^r9^ ( 44 > WRITTEN AT HARROWGATE. Let all, who would efleem it good To fight 'gainfl death and fate, Ufe no delay, but hafle away To drink at Harrowgate. At this blefl well, tho' ftrange to tell, However weak your ftatc. You may enfure a perfect cure. Such pow'r has Harrowgate. Should gout or rheum your life confume. Or palfy ihake your pate, Whate'er your ill, drink but your fill, You're well at Harrowgate. { 45 ) If madnefs dire, with brain on fire. Each nerve Ihould agitate, Deep in this fpring, plunge headlong in. You're heal'd at Harrowgate. From forth thefe flreams proceed fuch fleams Each (enfe to flimulate. That in one feafon your perfed reafon Returns at Harrowgate. Then hither fpeed, for mofl have need Their brains to reinflate, Ah ne'er look back, you're on the rack Till fafe at Harrowgate. Should anxious care, or dull defpair. Or envy's deadly hate. Torment your mind, you'll quickly find Them fly from Harrowgate. Kind ( 46 ) Kind friends, good fare, and purefl air. Your wits fo animate. That here in verfe you may rehearfe The charms of Harrowgate. Then let m&iife my profFer'd mufej Nor think I arrogate Too high a praife, to fwell my lays In hailing Harrowgate. There may be feen, at Tliack'^'ray's Queen, In peaceful happy fhate, Hufband and wife, devoid of ftrife. Such power hath Harrowgate. Each beau and belle, at this pure well. Their fpirits recreate. That here you'll find them much inclin'd To mirth at Harrowgate. No ( 47 ) No party rage doth here engage Their hours in fell debate ; Good reafon why ill humours fly Away from Harrowgate. On pleafure*s wing, they fweetly fing The joys that on them wait, They play, they laugh, they dance and quaff Their glafs at Harrowgate* From morn till eve, you may believe, Their time they diflipatej The reafon why they cannot die, They're fafc at Harrowgate. Then hither fpeed, you all have need, 'Tis death to helitate -, Make no delay, but poll away, And oneet at Harrowgate. ( 48 ) INSTRUCTIONS, SUPPOSED TO BE WRITTEN IN PARIS, FOR THE MOB IN ENGLAND. O F Liberty, Reform, and Rights I fing, Freedom I mean, without or Church or King ; Freedom to fcize and keep whate'er I can, And boldly claim my right The Rights of Man : Such is the bleffcd liberty in vogue, The envied liberty to be a rogue ; The right to pay no taxes, tithes, or dues ; The liberty to do whate'er I chufe ; The right to take by violence and ftrife My neighbour's goods, and, if I pleafe, his life; The liberty to raife a mob or riot. For fpoil and plunder ne'er were got by quiet ; The right to level and reform the great ; The liberty to overturn the flate ; The ( 49 ) The right to break through all the nation's laws. And boldly dare to take rebellion's caufe : Let all be equal, every man my brother ; Why one have property, and not another ? Why fuffer titles to give awe and fear ? There fliall not long remain -one Britilh peer^ Nor fhall the criminal appalled ftand Before the mighty judges of the land ; Nor judge, nor jury fliall there longer be. Nor any jail, but every pris'ner free ; All law abolilh'd, and with fword in hand We'll feize the property of all the land. Then hail to Liberty, Reform, and Riot ! Adieu Contentment, Safety, Peace, and Quiet 1 9eJ0^ ( 50 ) PSALM CXXXIX. O Lord my God ! to thee is known My rifing up, my fitting down ; My path, my bed thou art about. And all my ways thou fpieft out. For lo ! thou underftandeft, Lord, My every thought, my every word ; Oh, ever guide my tongue, my heart, For thou haft faQiioned every part. Such knowledge how fhould I attain } Such v;ond'rous goodnefs how explain Say, wculd I from thy prefence flee. Ah, whither? I am ftill with thcc. If ( 5' ) If to the Heav'n of Heavens I climb, Thou'rt there in majefty fublime; Or if to Hell I downwards go, Behold, O Lord, thou'rt there alfo. If on the morning's wing I foar. Or dive where deepeft oceans roar, Ev'n there thy prefence fhields from harm, And guides me with thy mighty arm. If in the dark and midnight hour I feek to hide me from thy power, That darknefs is to Thee as bright As orient beams of morning light. When in my mother's womb I lay, Thou fafliionedft my wond'rous cla)^, Nor were my bones before my birth Unfeen, tho' form'd beneath the earth. E 2 , Thine ( 5 ) Thine eyes my fubftance did defcry. When hid from ev'ry mortal eye. And in thy book each member plac'd. As day by day their forms were trac'd. Thy councils, Lord, to mc how dear I The fum how great beyond compare 1 As well might I the fands recount. As tell them o'er, fo great th' amount. Wilt thou not, Lord, the wicked flay ? Depart, ye fmful men, away ! For lo ! thine enemies, O Lord, Deny thy name, and flight thy word. Do not I hold them in defpite. Who rife againft thy caufe to fight ? Yea, more I hate their impious flrife. Than if they warr'd againfl my Hfe. Try ( 53 ) Try me, O God, my heart refine. Reprove it, make it wholly thine i Look well if unreveal'd there lie One fin remote from human eye. 4yf^^^ ( 54 ) A HYMN. Omniscient fource of love divine I Who reign'fl fupreme above, Deiga to accept vvitli look benign This little pledge of love. To thee, my Saviour and my King, What debts of praife I owe ; Oh teach my ibul thofe ftrains to fing, The virtuous only know. -Twas Thou, that bad'ft my feeble franic From mould'ring duft to rife ; Thy fpirit brealh'd the vital fiamc, O Lord, uij)remely wife. I'hv { ss ) Thy gi-ocious care preferv'd my youth. Of hfe the tendereft ftage. Oh may thy providence and truth Protedt my riper age. If when the furious ftorms attack, My haplefs thoughts fliould flray. Direct, O Lord, the wanderers back Thine own almighty way. The firfl aflaults of fin defeat, Deftroy the tempter's power. Secure my foul from all deceit. And guard it every hour. So fhall my rapturous heart with joy Thy heavenly name adore, Thy praife my grateful tongue employ. Till time (hall be no more. ( 56 ) AN AUNT'S LAMENTATION FOR THE ABSEKcB OF HER NIECE. WRITTEN FROM HASTINGS. Like as the dove I fit alone, Dejected, pale, and wan, Without a friend to hear me moan The lofs of Marianne. Now on the raging deep I gaze, And all it's wonders fcan, Yet ftil) my thoughts revert always To thee, my Marianne. Now o'er my book, my work I pore, But do whate'er 1 can. My book, my work will charm no more, I've loft my Marianne. The ( 57 ) The other morn the fifers play'd^ I to the window ran, And as the mufic pafs'd, I faid, Where, where is Marianne ? Oft as I hear the Tailors bawl For Sufan or for Nan, Alas, I cry. Oh that a call Would bring me Marianne ! Now^ on tlie beach forlorn I ftray, Nor know the face of man. Yet all would pleafe, each fcene be gay. Had I ray INIarianne. With lier each hour I could employ, And ftill new pleafures plan, For ev'ry hour 'twould be my joy To pleafe my Marianne. Ah ( 5S ) Ah could I view her face I'd fiy From Bcerflieba to Dan, No land, no fca beneath tlie iky Should part my Mariamie, ZuH^-f^ ( 59 ) ON THE DEATH OF DAVID GARRICK, Es-i^ How oft haft thou, great mafter of thine art, Call'd forth each feeling from the human heart. With admiration fiU'd the wondering mind, And made exift what Shakfpeare's pen defign'd, With valour fir'd, with horror chiil'd the breaft, Now footh'd with love, and now with grief opprcft. With frantic madnefs rent th' aftonifh'd ear. Or from the eye made flow the pitying tear ; Then, as the merry Mufes led the way, And bade thee all thy comic powers dilplay. How didft thou charm and captivate each fQaC^y The champion both of wit and eloquence, N N"o more alas ! thine accents charm the eaiv No feigned forrows now draw forth the tear. Deep is the grief, fincere the tears we fhed, Garrick, alas 1 lies numbered with the dead. Ci/*tf { I ) ^^CO<^4$<C9^i$>e3^H^9^^>^ THE CONFINED DEBTOR. A FRAGMENT fftOM A PRISOK. ** Sick and in frifon^ And je vijited me." This Poem hath been pnbliflied, and the profits arifiiig from the fale were appwopriated towards the releafe of the debtors confined in the county gaol at Ilchefter for fmall fums. The benevolent intentions of the author were fully rewarded by the fuccefs of the fale, and a lift of the debtors difcharged in con- fequence thereof was publifhed in the daily papers. Note iy th Edibtr, ^344**^^>4*'4^*^4*>^ ^y^^y^'^y^^y^i^v^ The folloTcing Lines are offered to the Public, not as a Poem, but as a true, though faint, defcription of the miferies of a prijon ! Should they have the effeB wijlied for of calling forth the attention of the charitable towards the releaje, or relief, cf a number of nioft zvretched debtors nozv confined in Ilchcftcr gaol, the dona- tions for them will be received and acknow- ledged in the papers by Mr. Gye and the Pro- prietors of the Circulating Libraries. Advfcrtifement by the Autlioj. ( 63 ) THE CONFINED DEBTOR. From thefe drear cells, where cheerlefs horror reigns, Midft the dread found of groans and clank of chains. Where life is death, and day perpetual night, Say ! Shall a wretch like me prefume to write ? A wretch cut off from ev'ry fecial tie, Expell'd from life, yet not allow'd to die, At once, from wife, from children torn away By thofe, who make calamity their prey ; Who dart w"ith m.ore than tygers' favage rage On pining ficknefs, or dccrepid age : Can fuch a wretch with trembling hand affay His manfion and companions to portray. And griefs proclaim which ne'er have met the day ? Griefs, which no tongue can fpeak, or pencil paint, Which mock ^11 forrow, and make language faint. Bring 4<c34"^>=f'4^>^4^>$'4c^ The folloiving Lines are offered to the Public, not as a Poem, but as a true, though faint, defcription of the miferies of a prifon ! Should they have the effe^ wijlied for of calling forth the attention of the charitable towards the releafe, or relief of a number of mofi wretched debtors nozv confined in Ilchcjler gaol, the dona- tions for them will be received and acknow- ledged in the papers by Mr. Gye and the Pro- prietors of the Circulating Libraries. ^dvtrtifement by the Authov. 4^ 3J* *J<; >{* '^i, y-'f ffcy^'ift >'> ( ^3 ) THE CONFINED DEBTOR. From thefe drear cells, where cheerlels horror reigns, Mldft the dread found of groans and clank of chains. Where life is death, and day perpetual night, Say I Shall a wretch like me prcfume to write ? A wretch cut off from ev'ry focial tie, Expell'd from life, yet not allow'd to die, At once, from wife, from children torn away By tliole, who make calamity their prey ; Who dart with more than tygers' favage rage On pining ficknefs, or dccrepid age : Can fuch a wretch with trembling hand aflay His manfion and companions to portray. And griefs proclaim which ne'er have met the day ?. Griefs, which no tongue can fpeak, or pencil paint, Which mock all forrow, and make language faint. Bring ( H } Bring fccnes to light as Erebus profound. Where murderers dire lie (hackled to the ground. And innocence and guilt alike are bound 1 Yet could I to my fad companions gain One ray of hope, ^twould ruitigate my pain ! Oh were my lines in Heaven's own language dreft. Then would they pierce and rend each human breafl.*, Expand each heart, and make each eye o'erflow. At thefe dread fceuQS of wretchednefs and woe, Yet tho* no poet's fire infpires my pen^ I write to Chrijiians and I write to Men, I write to thofe (if Heav'n dircd it fo) Whofe hearts dilate at every human woe, To tiiofc whofe charity with healing hand Diirufcs health and bleffings o'er the land, Who condefcend to fearch the hidden cells. Where pining want in filent anguifli dwells^ Tlicrc ( ^5 ) There, in obedience to their Lord divine, They bind the wound, and pour in oil and wine ! What joys they feel, who follow fuch a guide ! Joys ! which exceed all human worldly pride, Joys ! which e'en death itfelf cannot deftroy. For then they " enter on their Mafter's joy !'* Oh did the proud and felfifh but believe How far more bleft to give, than to receive ! Did but the flaves of pomp and grandeur know What flreams of comfort from their wealth might flow Waters ! as pure as morning dews, which rife From lofty mountains till they reach the Ikies, Defcending thence, as tender drops of rain. They cheer each valley, and each thirfty plain i So when in gratitude the widow's pray'r, , The pris'ner's fighs reliev'd, the orphan's tear To Heav'n afcend, an offering pure and neat, A bleft memorial and an odour fweet, F Recorded ( 66 ) Recorded ftands, from thence they ten-fold pour Their precious ointment, as the grateful fliow'r ! ****************** ****#******** **** ************ Ah me ! what means that fliriek, that horrid yell, Thofe bitter oaths, which fink the foul to hell ? Say, loft companions, in this dread abode Do ye ne'er think of an offended God ? Ne'er leek by pray'r, by penitence and llghs, T' obtain that pardon, which the world denies ? Ah ! fue for mercy with your lateft breath, And trembling alk for pardon after death. ************* *** .-ff ************** ( 67 ) No, No, I'll curfe not e*en that fatal morn, Which faw me to this loathfome prifon borne ; Snatch'd from my homely bed, where long I'd lain Struggling with ficknefs, poverty and pain. Yet ftill kind hope, (the wretch's lateft friend) Did frequent comfort with my forrows blend j- For near my couch the partner of my cafe Wcruld anxious watch, and bid me not defpair, Whilft (he with life and ftrength, by Heav'n fupply'd. Could yield that help, ficknefs to me deny'd. Could by her diftaff earn that homely bread. By which our helplefs children long were fed ; She bade me hope by induftr}' fet free. No griping landlord need we dread to fee. She taught me to fupprefs the rifing figh. And check'd the tear when ftarting from mine eye s r 2 She ( 68 ) She o'er my limbs her thread-worn garment fpread. And with her infants clothes fuftain'd my head, Whilft at my feet thofe infants playful fmil'd. And by their prattle oft my pains beguil'd ! Ah ! helplefs babes, ah 1 wretched, deareft wife ! More lov'd by me than liberty, or life, No more thy foothing voice now charms mine ear. And. gently whifpers that no danger's near, No more my playful infants cheer my fight. Here all is horror and perpetual night ! Hope can no longer now fupprefs my fighs. Or check the tears when ftreaming from mine eyes. Still, ftill I feel that pang, which rent my heart, Still do I hear thy fcreams when forc'd apart. Still view thy pallid face, all bath'd in tears. My children's cries flill vibrate in mine ears, Still feel them cling around my trembling knees. While on their helplefs parent bailiffs feize, Still, ftill I hear my wife, my children call " Have patience, patience, and we'll pay thee all !'* Remorfclefs ( h ) Remorfelefs creditor, thou'fl done the deed ! Nor tears, nor prayers, nor innocence could plead ! Oh ! had thine heart one fpark of pity known, To griefs like ours it had compaflion fliewn ! Come ! fee thy captive ! view his wretched ftate. And fliew feme mercy ere it be too late; Think ! will this noifome air, and clay-cold floor, His feeble frame to ftrength and health reftore ? Oh could he hberty and ftrength regain. To pay thy debt he evVy nerve would ftrain ! Will grief and anguifli aid the wretched wife In earning food to fave each infant's life ? Ah ! rather will not frenzy and defpair Deprive thofe infants of a mother's care ? Methinks e'en now, within this dungeon foul, I hear her vent her agony of foul. *************** ************** ***************^ F 3 Yet ( 70 ) Yet let not thoughts like thefe diftrad my brain. Thoughts, which heap woe on woe, and pain on painj No ! rather let mc, with imploring eye. Look up to Him, who hears the pris'ner's figh -, To Him, who calls the weary and opprefs'd. To come to Him for fuccour and for reft ! Who, tho' forlorn and helplefs here I lie, Without one pitying friend or comfort nigh, May caufe fome tender fympathizing heart To foothe our forrows, and relief impart, Some heart, replete with love, to whom 'tis giv'n Thok Ipcunfks to difpenfe, which ^o^ from Heaven! s.*#^ ( 71 ) THE 55 TH PSALxM. Hear, oh my God ! thy grace extend. Hide not thyfelf, O Lord, from me ! Hear my petition, and befriend The mournful caufe I plead to thee ! The enemy with ceafelefs flrife. Their minds on mifchief ever fet, Mahcioufly purfue my life, And impious men their caufe abet. My heart's difquieted with dread. The fears of death are on me come, With ghaftly horrors overfpread And tremblings, I expedt my doom. F 4 Then ( 7^ ) Then did I wiih with filver wings DoveUke to fly and feek my reft, Far from the fource whence forrow fprings. In fome lone wild to make my nefl. With hafte I would efcape and fly, Or ere the ftorm takes hold of me : Deftroy their tongues, for I efpy How wickedly they flrive with thee. The city walls both night and day With mifchief they encompafs round ; Deceit and guile are in their way, Sorrows within their (Irccts abound. Were it an enemy declared. That wrought this fhame, an open foe. From fuch difgrace I had been fpar'd. And 'fcap'd the meditated blow. 'Twas ( 73 ) *Tvvas thou, my counfellor and guide, CornparJon and familiar friend. With -vliom I uoi^.mun'd fide by fide, As to God's iioufe we did afcend. Them death (liall haflily o'ertake, And whelm ihem quick into the grave; But as for me my pray'r I'll make To God, whofe power alone can fave. At evening and at early dawn. At noon- day alfo will I pray. So (hall He hear my voice, nor fcorn To lead my foul in his right way. The God, who all things doth behold, Th' eternal King and Lord of all. Will hear my pray'r, and me uphold, So that I lliall not greatly fall. 'Tis ( 74 ) *Tis He, that from the battle's rage IVIy foul to fafety hath reftor'd. He can their furious wrath affuage. He is the only God and Lord, %ij^f^ ( 75 ) ADDRESSED TO SLEEP. Descend,, fweet Sleep, mine eyelids clofe With peace-reftoring balm ; *Tis thou alone can'ft heal my woes. And lull me to a calm. Come tlien on Fancy's airy wing With all thy pieafirg train. Thy kind delufions with thee bring, And lull my aching brain. But why fo oft mufl I in vain Invoke thy fov'reign power ? Say, cruel, why dofl thou difdain On me thy blifs to Ihowcr ? Freely i 76 ) Freely by Heav'n on all thou'rt flied, The gift all nature Hiares, Why then from me fo diflant fled ? Ah ! why not hear my pray'r? Why, like the felfilh and the vain. Thus deaf to forrow's cry. Court none but Pleafure*s fmiling train. And fliun the weeping eye ? Did wicked thoughts within my breafl A welcome harbour meet. Did I, when lying down to reft, Plot or contrive deceit. Then could 1 not prcfume to find Remiffion of my grief; For whither can a guilty mind Refort for its relief ? iiut ( 77 ) But foft ! fure 'twas a voice that faid- *' Stop ! thy rebukes are vain ; * Man by his Maker firft was made '* Exempt from grief or pain." 4.^^ ( /S ) WRITTEN IN IRELAND How blefl- would be lerne's ille. Were bigotry and all it's guile Chac'd as a cloud away ; Then would Religion rear her head, And fweet Contentment round her fpread. Like a new dawn of day. Come then, oh come, thou Truth divine ! With double radiance deign to iliine, Thy heavenly light expand ; 'Tls thine to chafe thefe clouds of night. Which darken and confound the fi2;ht In this divided land. Attendvint ( 79 ) Attendant on thy profp'rous train I fee fweet Peace with honeil gain Spread wide her liberal hand, While Difcord, maik'd in deep difguife, Abafli'd from forth her prefence flies, Struck by her magic wand. Around, where now in ruins lie Thy facred altars, I efpy Fair Order rear each pile, Whilfl o'er thy wilds forlorn and wade, Lo, Induftry with nimble hafte Makes hill and valley .fmile. No more thy fons in fell defpite, A murderous band arrayed in tvhite^ Shall deal deftrud:ion round ; Each man beneath his vine fliall reft, No more by Bigotry oppreft. But Truth by Peace be crown'd. Tlien ( ^o ) Then fhall lerne tune her lyre, And with united voice confpire To hail her happy ftate ; All hail, lerne. Nature's pride, No more fliall wars thy land divide, Wert thou as good as great. ^'i^ ( 8i ) MODERN MANNERS. 4=3 Of modern Manners let me fingj The gay Flirtilla cries Manners, my dear ! there's no fuch thing- Her grandmamma replies. You fay, cries Mifs, in days of yore People were highly bred j But, thank my liars, thofe days are o'er, Thofe people all are dead. The world is now at eafe and gay, Improv'd in every art. Fraught with dlverfions night and day To charm and fire the heart. T ( S2 ) To live in thefe enlighten'd days Is furely life indeed ; Long may they laft, Flirtilla prays. And joy to joy fucceed ! The mind, left free and uncontroul'd. Makes pleafure all it's aim ; Youth will not now by age be told My dear, you are to blame. Siich Gothic parents, thanks to Hcavea, Are now but rarely found , Thofe, whom the fates to me have given. Live but in Pleafure's round. No tedious hours at home they pafs In dull domeftic care ; To think, they fay, would foon, alas ! Bring wrinkles and grey hair. Oft ( 83 ) Oft have I heard them jeer and joke At wedlock's gaUlng chain j Then cry. Thank Heaven, 'tis now no yoke. We wed to part again. In former times indeed *twas faid. That hearts were join'd above, That women to their hufbands paid Obedience, truth and love. But title, pin-money and dower Now join our hands for hfe. No other ties than thefe have power To couple man and wife. To thefe alone my thoughts afpire. On thefe I fix my heart ; A wealthy hufband I require^ I care not when we part, ( 84 ) ON RAILLERY. WRITTEN IN MAY I781, FOR THE VASE AT BATH-EASTON. A srBjECT Co copious, fo flow'ry and gay, Suits well to the fportive amufements of May, But fcorn'd be the mufe, unrewarded the rhinie, Tho' it iwcetly (liould flow and in melody chime. If ever in earneft my pen or my heart In raillery's caufe fliould be found to take part ; If ever, the flrength of this talent to fliow, A friend I fliould teaze or embitter a foe ; If ever, Vv'hen aiming my wit to difplay, Be my verfe e'er brilliant, or meafure fo gay, By raillery's tinge I difcolour its lay. No, rather aflift me, ye mufes benign, Who prefide o'er this Urn and it's myrtles entwine, ( 8s ) To guard well it's laurels from every annoy, That innocent humour might damp or deftroy; Ah, Qiield from it's laQi every bard, who efTays To foiicit your favour and merit the bays ; May the brow of each youth with your laurels be crown'd. Who can rally with wit, and yet ne'er give a wouncl ; May the breaft of each nymph your chafte myrtle adorn, Who her lover ne'er rallied, or treated with fcorn ; May they ne'er know the pangs, that a poet fuftains,'J "Wlio morning and night having puzzled his brains, > Is raill'd at and laugh'd at and hifs'd for his pains, j Hail, genuine good humour, good breeding and fenfe, This circle you guide and it's humour difpenfe ; Your favour I court, but if I fhould fail, 1 fnan't be furpriz'd, but I never will rail. ( 86 ) THE 8th, 9TH, AND lOTH VERSES OF THE 57TH PSALM. Awake, my glory, ere the rofy mora Shall with a vivid blufh the ficles adorn. Before the fun arife to break the day, Awake, and chace thy gloomy flcep away. Awake, foft lute, awake, my tuneful lyre, With facred tranfports my warm breafl infpire 3 Awake j eacli faculty, awake and fmg In holy rapture to ray iieav'iily King. In ( s? ) In notes divine let my glad verfe proclaim His mighty goodnefs and eternal name ; Let my loud praifes thro' the world retbund, Whilfl: wond'ring nations liften all around. But, O my God, thy wonders are too great For tongue to fpeak, or verfe to celebrate. So vaft thy mercies and thy truth fo high. They pierce the clouds and reach beyond the iky. ^eJ^Tfh G 4 HYMN. May peace and love from God abovcf My bofom ever fill, So fliall I find an humble mind Obedient to his will, May faith and trufl, and all that's juft, My foul with ardour fire, I feek not wealth, I afk but health. Nor more would I defire. May thanks and praife, throughout my days. My heart and mind employ, So fnall I know, whilft here below. More than iin earthly joy. ( 89 ) A RECEIPT FOR WRITING A NOVEL. Would you a fav'rite novel make. Try hard your reader's heart to break, ' For who is pleas'd, if not tormented ? (Novels for that v/ere lirft invented). 'Gainft nature, reafon, fenfe, combine To carry on your bold deiign, And thofe ingredients I Qiall mention, Compounded with your own invention, I'm fure will aniwer my intention. Of love take firft a due proportion It ferves to keep the heart in motion : Of jealoufy a powerful zeft, Of all tormenting paflions bed ; Of horror mix a copious fliare, And duels you m.uft never fparej Hyfleric 1 ( 90 ) Hylleric fits at lead a fcore, Or, if you find occafion, more ; But fainting fits you need not meafure, The fair ones iiave them at their pleafure ; Of fighs and groans take no account, But throw them in to vaft amount ; A frantic fever you may add, Mod authors make their lovers mad ; Rack well your hero's nerves and heart. And let your heroine take her part ; Her fine blue eyes were made to weep. Nor fnould (he ever tafte of llecp ; Ply l^.er with terrors day or night, And keep her always in a fright. But in a carriage when you get her. Be lure you fairly ovcrfet her ; J[ flie will break her bones why let her : Again, if e'er flie walks abroad. Of courfe you bring fomc wicked lord, \Mio ( 91 ) Who with three ruffians fnaps his prey, And to a caftle fpeeds away ; There clofe confin'd in haunted tower. You leave your captive in his power, Till dead with horror and difmay. She fcales the walls and flies away. Now you contrive the lovers meeting. To fet your reader's heart a beating. But ere they've had a moment's leifure. Be fure to interrupt their pleafure , Provide yourfelf with frefh alarms To tear 'em from each other's arms ; No matter by what fate they're parted. So that you keep them broken-hearted. A cruel father fome prepare To drag her by her flaxen hair; Some raife a florm, and fome a ghoft. Take either, which may pleafe you moll. But ( 92 ) Bat this you muft with care obferve, That when you've wound up every nerve With expedation, hope and fear. Hero and heroine muft difappear. Some till one book, feme two without 'em. And ne'er concern their heads about 'em. This greatly refts the writer's brain, For any ftory, that gives pain. You now throw in no matter what, However foreign to the plot, So it but ferves to fwell the book. You foil! it in w ith defperate hook . A mafquerade, a murder'd peer. His throat jufl cut from ear to ear A rake turn'd hermit a fond maid Run mad, by fomc falfe loon betray'd Thefe ftores fupply the female pen. Which writes tl.em o'er and o'er again. And readers likcwife may be found To circulate them round and round. Now ( 93 ) Now at your fable's clofe devifc Some grand event to give furprize Suppofe your hero knov/s no mother Suppofe he proves the heroine's brother This at one ftroke diffolves each tie, Far as from eafl: to weft they fly : At length when every woe's expended, And )'0ur laft volume's nearly ended. Clear the miftake, and introduce Some tatt'ling nurfe to cut the noofe, The Ipell is broke again they meet Expiring at each other's feet ; Their friends Jie breath iefs on the iioor You drop your pen j you can no more And ere your reader can recover,. They're married and your hiftory's over. eu^ ( 94 ) THE POWER OF FANCY. WRITTEN FOR THE VASE AT BATH-EASTON. Fancy, come ! thou fertile theme, And thy choiceft colours fpread. Airy phantom, waking dream, Show'r thy odours on my head ! Sweet enchantrefs, tune my lyre. Gently place me on thy wing, Robe me in thy gay attire, Whilfl thy power I ftrive to fing. Then thy pinions wide expand. Swift purfue thine eagle flight. Guide me with thy magic wand, Bear me pad the reach of light. Watt ( 9i ) Waft me thro' thofe fragrant gales. Which exhale from Pindus' hill. Lead me to thofe flowery vales, Water'd by Callalia's rill. Give me of that limpid flream. Which the fportive mufes fip, So Qiould I that draught efteem Sweet as ne(5tar to my lip. Thence on fam'd Parnaffbs' mount. Kind condudrefs, let me light. There would I thy power recount. If to me thou would'ft indite. Offering meet I then might bring To the Mufe's fav'rite Vafe, And to drains melodious ling Carols in the Donor's praife. Bur ( 9^ ) But me, alas \ no mufe infplrcs, Nor fancy aids, nor fylphs indite. No whifpering gales, nor founding lyre- To numbers fweet my pen invite. Yet tho' no laurels I can claim, No plaudits from your circle meet. Still fhall it be my humble aim To lay niy offerings at your feet. icJ^^tTTH ( 97 ) THE XXIII D PSALM. The Lord is my fhepherd, my guardian and guide. For the wants of his creatures the Lord doth provide j E'er lince I was born it is he that hath crown'd The life that he gave me with bleffings around. While yet on the breaft a poor infant I hung. Ere time had unloofen'd the firings of my tongue. He gave me the help which I could not then aik. And now, oh my tongue, let his praife be thy tafk ! Thro* my tendereft years, with as tender a care, My foul like a lamb in his bofom he bare ; To the brook he would lead me whene'er I had need. And point out the pafture where beft I might feed ; No harm would approach me, for he was my Ihield From the birds of the air and the beafl of the field ; ( 98 ) The wolf to devour me would often times prowl, But the Lord was my fliepherd, and guarded my foul. How oft In my youth have I wandered aftray. And flill he hath fet me again on the way ; When loft in dark errdr no path I could meet, His word like a lanthorn hath guided my feet ; What wond'rous efcapes to his kindnefs I owe. When rafli and unthinking I fought my own woe ; My foul had long fmcc been gone down to the deep, If the Lord had not watched when I was alleep. Whene'er at a diftance he fees mc afraid, O'er the hills and high mountains he comes to my aid. Then leads me back gently, and bids me abide In the midft of his flock, and feed clofe by his fide ; How happy if there I could ever remain AH the days of my life, and not wander again ; Yea, bleil are the people, and happy thrice told, Who obey the Lord's voice and abide in his fold. The i 99 ) The fold it is full, and the pafture is. green. All is friendfhip and love, and no enemy feen ; There the Lord dwells amongft us upon his own hill, And the mountains all round with his prefenc^ doth fill, Hlmfelf in the midft with a provident eye, Regarding our wants and procuring fupply ; He preparetJi all things for our fafety and food, We gather his gifts, and are lilied with good. When he leads forth the flock we all gladly obey For the Lord is himfclf both our leader and way, The hills fmoke with incenfe where e'er he hath trod, And a facred perfume fliews the footileps of God, Wliilft blefl with his prefcnce the valleys beneath A fwect fmdling f.ivour do conftantly breathe i He rcneweth the face of each living- thin"-. And the glad Earth enjoys a perpetual fpring. Or if a far different fcene he prepare, And we march thro' the -wildernefs barren and bare, 11 2 3y ( 100 ) By his wonderful works we fee plainly enough That the earth is the Lord's and the fuUnefs thereof; When hungry and thirfty we're ready to faint. He feeth our need and prevents our complaint ; The rain at his word brings us bread from the iky, And rocks become rivers when nature is dry. From the fruitfullefl hill to the barreneft rock The Lord hath made ail for the fake of his flock. And the flock in return the Lord always confefs, Their joy in abundance, their hope in difl:refs ; He beholds in our welfare his glory difplay'd. And we deem ourfelves happy when he is obey'd ; With a cheerful regard we attend to his ways. Our attention is prayer, and our cheerfulnefs praifc. 9ijj^ ( loi ) FROM THE XII"^" CHAPTER OF ST. MARK, 41ST VERSE, TO THE END. Hail, widow ! ample caufe haft thou to blels That happy ftate, which others term diftrefs, Since by thy Saviour's voice it is proclaim'd. That wherefoe'er his gofpel fhall be nam'd. There fhall recorded ftand thy pious deed. The mite beftow'd of which thyfclf had need Such was thy charity, thy faith, thy love. The gift was regifter'd in heav'n above. What tho' the rich, whofe coiEFers overflow'd. With oftentation their vain alms beftow'd, 'Twas but a part from that abundance given. Which they as almoners receiv'd from heaven. Thou from thine all with confidence didft part. Unknown to thee, thy Saviour faw thy heart. H3 lOl ) H Y M N. T thee, all powerful and fupreme, I tune my grateful lays, When fuch, and fo divine, the theme, How weak is mortal praife ! Yet pardon, if in humble verfe My' enraptur'd foul afpire. Thy wond'rous goodnefs to rehearfc, Thy greatnefs to admire. Let my o'erfiowing heart difcharge In prayer and praife to thee Some fmall return for gifts fo large Beftow'd each day on me. Ah, ( 103 ) Ah, what am I, that thou fhould'fl deign To vifit my fad heart ? And why vouchiafe, when I complain. Such folace to impart ? 'Tis in the words of Hfe I meet A cure for every grief, 'Tis ever to thy mercy- feat I fly to feek reUef. I find it there, I feel a flame Within my bofom glow, I call upon my Saviour's name. And triumph over woe. Vain is the world's unkindnefs, vain Misfortune's utmoft fpite, Whilft fl:ill I keep 'midfl grief and pain Thy mercies in my fight. H 4 I know ( I04 ) I know that my Redeemer lives, I know that He can fave, Let Him take back the life he gives, I'll feek Him in the grave. %ij^^ ( ^os ) TO A CERTAIN AUTliOR, ON HIS WRITING A PROLOGUE, WHEREIN HE URSCRIBES A TRAVELLER. FROZEN IN A SNOW STORM. No more let poets vainly boaft Their fine defcriptive art. They ranfack Nature's gayeft flore. Yet rarely warm the heart. Hail, happy Bard, whofe brilliant wit. With more than Poet's art. Can from a frozen mafs extrad: Fire that can melt the heart. <Sit#^ ( io6 ) IN RETURN FOR THE PRESENT OF A PAIR OF BUCKLES. The female heart by bribes is oft aflail'd. Full oft by bribes the female heart is won, When tears, and fighs, and flatteries have fail'd. All ear ring or a necklace might have done. Hence men their court by various prcfcnts make, A fong, a fan, a top-knot, or a glove, The gift, ftill plcafing for the giver's lake, Is welcom'd as an emblem of his love. My gentle fwain a happier art has found At once his paiTion and lucccfs to prove, Whilll; by his magic gift my feet are bound. No power is left me to cfcapc his love. ( io7 ) THE AIR BALLOON. No more of Phaeton let poets tell, I care not where he drove nor where he fell ; No more I'll wifli for fam'd Aurora's car. To drive me forth, high as the morning ftarj In Air Balloon to diflant realms I go, " And leave the gazing multitude below.'* No more I'll hear of Venus and her doves. Nor Cupid flying with the little loves ; Nor would I now in Juno's chariot ride In princely pomp, wich peacock by my fide ; In higher flate, in Air Balloon I go, I'd have the gods and goddeffes to know. No more in oriental language fair I'll read of Genii wafting through the air; Nor ( io8 ) Kor longer will I feck (by Pcrfian wrought) A carpet, to tranfport me by a tliought ; Enough for me in Air Balloon to go. And leave th* enquiring multitude below. No more of P^gafus (unruly fteed) To reach FarnalTus' Mount, fhall I have need ; Nor will I now the Mufes favour court, To fhew me Pindus' Hill, their chief refort ^ To thefe fair realms in Air Balloon I go. And leave the grov'ling multitude below. No more fhall Fancy now (betwitching fair !) Ered me caftles, floating in the air ; Such vague, fuch feeble ftruclures I defpife, I'll kick them down as I afcend the fkies; For higher far in Air Balloon I go, And leave the v;ond'ring multitude below. No longer, now, at diftance need I try To trace each planet with perfpcdive eye j Nor ( 109 ) Nor longer wiQi, with fairies from afar^ To ilide me gently down on falling ftar j For up or down with equal eafe I ileer. And view with naked eye the fplendid fphere. Alas poor Newton ! late for learning fam'd, No more fhall thy refearches e'er be nam'd ; For greater Newtons now each day fliall foar. High up to Heaven, and new worlds explore ; Since fwift, in Air Balloons, aloft we go. And leave the flupid multitude below. No more the terrors of the deep I fear ; Alike to me, if friend be far or near ; This fea-girt ille I diftant leave behind, Vifit each kingdom and furvey mankind ; For now with eafe in Air Balloon I ride. No more compell'd to wait for wind or tide. Hail, hr.ppy lovc;s ! late by difl.iLce curil, (Of all the worldly tortures fure Lue word) No ( no ) No more conclemn'cl an abience to deplore, And, fighing, breathe your vows from Ilioic to (hore; For through the air, fwift in Balloons ye roll, *' And waft yourfelves from India to the pole." In vain may party rage afTail mine ear ; If war or peace, alike Fm free from care ; Should plague or peirilence inrcct the land. The purefl regions are at my command ; Where fafe from harm, in Air Balloon I go. And leave the fickly multitude below. No more cf judge or jury will I hear. The laws of land extend not to the air; Nor bailiff now my fpirlts can affright, For up I mount, and foon am out ol fight ; Thus, icrccri'd ti-om juftice, in IkiUoon I go. And leave th' infolvcnt multitude belcw. How few the worldly evils now I dread, No more coniin'd this narrow earth to tread : ( III ) Should fire, or water, fpread deftrudllon drear. Or earthquake fhake this fublunary fphere. In Air Balloon to diftant realms I fiy, And leave the creeping world to fmk and die. 5t.<^^ ( 11^ ) THE LXIII D p S A I, M. O God, thou art my only God, My Saviour and my King, Early thy face, O Lord, I feek. Thy praife I flrive to fing. My fainting foul, when parch'd with thirfl. To thee looks up for aid ; My wearied flefb by barren lands And drought is fore difmay'd. Thus have I fought my heav'nly King In holinefs to fee ; Oh, let my foul confefs thy power, And glory ftill in thee. Far ( U3 ) Far better than the life itfelf Thy kindnefs do I prize. My lips thy pralfes fliall rehearfe For ever on this wife. For ever magnify my God, And ftill record his fame. My hands while I have life, lift up In honour of his name, Thus (hall my foul be fatisfied. Even as with daintieft meat. When I with joyful lips thy pralfe For evermore repeat. i.rf^^ ( 114 ) HYMN. The Lord is my fliepherd, what then fhall I fear? What danger can frighten me whilft he is near ? Not when the day comes that I pafs thro' the Vale Of the Sliadow of Death, fliall my heart ever fail. Tho' afraid by myfelf to purfue the dark way. Thy rod and thy ftaff are my comfort and ftay ; For I know by thy guidance, when once it is paft, To a fountain of life it will lead me at laft. The Lord is become my falvation and fong, His bleflings fliall follow me all my life long; Whatever condition lie places me in, 1 know 'tis the befl; it could ever have been, For the Lord he is good and his mercies are fure, He only affllcteth in order to cure ; The Lord will 1 praife whiifi: I have any breath. Be content all my life, and refign'd at my death. ( 115 ) A COLLEGE LIFE. FOR THE VASE AT BATH-EASTON. A COLLEGE life ! I fcorn the odious phrafe ; So dull a theme fhall ne'er employ my lays : A life indeed ! 'twere fitter ftil'd a death, Unlefs 'tis life merely to draw your breath j By fufty walls coop'd up, as in a pen, 'Mongft fufty books, and ft ill more fufty men. Can this be life, by gothic rules compell'd To part from liberty, or be expell'd ? At early dawn roufed by the bell to matin. The live long day confined to Greek and Latin j At fuch an hour amongft old dons to dine, Yet not allow'd a focial glafs of wine j With cap in hand acrofs the court to go, Put not to touch the grafs-plat with your toe, J ^ Left ( n6 ) Left dire expulfion for that breadi of laws Seize on the culprit with it's iron claws. If when fatigu'd at cv'ning, he fnould take A nap too long, and not to pray'rs awake, Strait through the College fliall his name refound. Dead or alive, the caitiff mufl be found : Or if perchance fome friend or lady fair Should draw him forth to tafte the noontide air. Then as a fejuirrel, who his chain has broke, Or Have new ranfom'd from his galling yoke. Mis liberty he hugs, with joy elate, j-le for a while forgets his fervile ftate. Nor e'er reflecls on bars, or keys, or gate. But nov/ the college clock with gloomy knell Affails his ear, and like conjurer's fpell Strikes thro' his heart ^ with horror in his flice Sudden he ftarts his ihort-liv'd joy gives place. Wirh eager ftridcs fwift thro' the ftreets he hies, And at the portal for admittance cries, But cries in vain for ah ! 'tis all too late ; The porter hears, but won't unbar the gate ; Abafh'd ( "7 ) Abafli'd the youth reth-es with thoughful pace. Dreams of jobation, le<5lures and difgracc; Next morn by Mafter, Tutor, Fellows rated, In (hort, not much unlike a bear when baited. Since this a College Life, peace to that pair, AVho dying left me to a Guardian's care. And he, thank Fortune, to unbend my mind, Chofe a young Tutor, gay, polite and kind. Who, anxious much my morals to advance. Took me a tour thro' Italy and France ; Gave me the Graces, which I more admire Than all the learning I could elfe acquire : This, this is life, but that within a College, Which mufty pedants term the Seat of Knowledge, Let pedants take I will not fee their faces, But live and die devoted to the Graces. Thus Florio talk'd much noife and little matter, 'Tis thus, that puppies yelp, and monkies chatter. I 3 ( ii8 ) ON THE VIOLENT DEBATliS IN THE HOUSE OF PEERS, VPON THE BILL FOR SUSPENDING THE HABEAS CORPUS, &C. M Y noble Lords, your altercation Can never tend to ferve the nation. You can't but know its laws j Why then, right noble Peers, this pother, As if each culprit were your brother. That thus you plead their caufe ? Pry thee, my Lords, be quiet then, Strive to acquit yourfelves like men, Who hold a facfed truft ; Yotlr Church, your King, your Country calls For unity within your walls, For meafures firm and juft. ( 119 ) EPIGRAM. Why will you, W * *, feek with Paine to find Men like yourfelves of difcontented mind ? Believe me, Sir, you may as well be quiet. Do what you will, you cannot hatch a riot ; If Reformation 's all you wifh to get. Reform yourfelf, and leave the State to Pitt. I 4 ( J^o ) A PARODY WHO DARES TO KILL K.ILDARE Who dares appear t' appoint Pierpoiiit a Peer ? The bufy Fa6lion cries 1 dare appear t' appoint Pierpoint a Peer, The Minifler repHes. %a^^ ( 121 ) A P A R O D V UPON SWIFT'S NURSES' SONG. Oil my Charley, my Charley, The man of the people was he. Such a fvveet pet as Charley No one did ever fee. '* Once he went up, up, upp}^, " Long he's gone down, down, downy, " Oft he's gone backwards and fonvards, " And now he's quite run agrouney." Has ( 1^2 ) Has lie loft all his credit, And has lie loft all his money ? His friends will all make him a purfe, For he's ftill their own dear honey. " Once he went up, kc.'* Here are his own two Dukies, Each with his thoufand in handey; Here are three Earls and a Marquis, And here is his dear Napper Tandy. " Once he went up, he," Earl S pe, as ftraight as a fteeple, On the table puts down his five poundy, Then drinks to the Man of the People, And the glafs it goes merrily roundy. " Once he went up, &c." Ncxf ( li^' ) Next comes his own dear Sh ry^ No friend like to Sh- ry on earth, A thoufand good pounds he fubfcribes, Which is more than poor Sh' ry is worth. " Once he went up, &c.*' Then be not difcourag'd, dear Charley, Your friends are all met in convention, Contented to lofe their own credit, By fixing on you a good peniion. " Once he went up. Up, uppy, " Long he's gone down, down, downy, *' Oft he's gone backwards and fonvards, " And now he's quite run agrouney." ^a^r^ ( 124 ) RIDDLE. I TOOK five daughters with me to the play, The firft in fcar/et clad, the next in grey, Iwfilk the third, the fourth in gold array 'd, In humble T?//^' the laft, and youngeft maid. (M^^ DITTO. I HAVE five Tons, I tell it you in gric-f. And each of them a cut-throat or a thief. t^iTPi, ( 1^5 ) CHARADE. My fir ft has exalted the heroes of old, My fecond's the teft of a flirew, My whole is fo mean, to it's fliame be it told, It will crouch to the fole of your flioe. DITTO. My firft for temper and for tongue Is to a proverb curft j My fecond is for ever hung By nature to my firft. When drawling periods without end Exhauft the hearer's foul, To Parfon Spintext, as a friend, I recommend my whole. ( 126 ) DITTO, To a term oft made ufe of by partners in trade Add a pious young damfel for ever a maid. With five hundred tackt to a fpirituous liquor, Which is drank from the coblcr quite up to the vicar, Thefe, when right put together, will quickly explain The name of a thing made to puzzle the brain. %i>jt0rf^ ( 127 ) UPON READING SOME VERSES UPON A SCULU And are we thus transformed by fate ? Is this the fhape each face mufl wear ? Well might'ft thou paint that final ftate, Thy purity can never fear. Yet let my foul furvey the grace, The fadiion of her fair abode, There thro' the wond'rous fabrick trace The finger of unerring God. Who bade the blood in equal round Il's vital warmth throughout difpenfe ? Who tun'd the ear for every found ? Who lent the hand its ready fenfe ? Whence Whence had the eye its fubtle iorce, The vifual and enHght'ning ray ? Wlio tun'd the Hps with prompt difcourfc. And whence the foft and honey 'd lay ? YeSj thy Creator's image there In each expreffive part is feen, But thine immortal part doth bear That image pidur'd heft within, Elfe what availed the enraptured ftrain,, Did not the mind her aid impart ? The melting eye might fpcak in vain, Flow'd not it's language from the heart. The blood in flated pace had crept Along the dull and lluggifli veins. The ear infenfibly had Hcpt, Tho' angels fung in choiccll flrains. No ( 1^9 ) No v'ldor laurel had been (eca Upon the brow of glorious war. The regulated fight had been A cafual, blind, tumultuous jar. Know, 'tis the foul, the work of heaven. That fets the proper ftamp on allj According to the freedom given, The man, when judg'd, fhall ftand or fall, Nor fliall this habitation frail The aftive fpirit content alone, Wond'ring it fcans the mighty fcale, Which links the whole creation one. Strong and extenfive in it's view. It launches midft the bouridlefs fk}> Sees planets other orbs purfue, Whofe fyftems other funs fupply. K BIuHi ( i^o ) Blufli then, If thou haft fenfe of fhamc. Inglorious, ignorant, impious flavc. Who think'ft this heaven-created frame Shall bafely perifli in the grave ! Falfe as thou art, dar'ft thou fuggeft That the Almighty is unjuft ? Wilt thou the truth with him contefl:, Whofc wifdom form'd thee from the dull : Say, dotard, hath he idly wrought, Or are his works to be believed ? Speak ! is the whole creation nought ? Mortal I is God, or thou, deceived ? Thy harden'd fpirit convift at laft It's damned error (hall perceive, Speechlefs ihall hear it's fentcnce pafs'd, Condcmn'd to tremble and believe. U^l ( ^3,1 ) But thou, in ^cafon's fober light. Death chd with terrors canfl lurvey And from that foul and ghaftly fight Derive the pure and moral ray. Go on, fweet nymph, in vlrtije's CQurfe, So 111 all ihe tomb corrupt and vile. The ll)ades of d9,rknefs lofe their force. The diflant frown become a fmile. And when the neceffary day Shall call thee to thy faving God, Secure, thou'lt chufe that better way, Whifh none bijt faints like thee l>ave trod, Thus fliall thy foul at length forfake The fwcetcft form e'er foul recelv'd, Of thofc rich blefllngs to partake Which eye pe'er faw, nor heart conceiy'd, K 2 There, ( '32 ) There, midft the full angelic throng, Praife him who thofe rich blefllngs gave ; There fhall refume the grateful fong, ' A joyful vidor a'er the grave.* %tj^fi% ( ^33 ) WRITTEN AT SWANDLING BAR, IN TH5 COUNTY OF CAVAN, IN IRELAND. Let thofe who would efteem it good To reach the age of Par, By water pure come and infure Their hves at SwandHng Bar. Let all who be, by land or re,a. However near or far, Make no delay, but hafte away, To drink at Swandling Bar. Should belle or beau the fcurvy fhow. Which doth all beauty mar. Hither repair, you'll foon grow fair. When once at Swandling Bar. K 3 Each Each goddcfs here, tho' now To clear. Shcw'd Hke a fallen flar. When 'firfl from town flie pofted down To drink at Swandling Bar. Each fot and rake his cure might make* And wage with Death a war. Would he but think the beft of drink Is that at Swandling Bar. (3ft have t feeri, come to careen. Many an honeft taf. With batter'd hide by fcurvy dried. Yet cur'd at Swandling Bar. I've feen a fair who might comparc>, With Venus in her car. Approach the rill and drink her fill Each day at Swandling Bar. 1*' { m ) Here lords from town, of high renown, With garter and with ftar, Decrepid come, yet brifk go home. Such power hath Swandling Bar. Late have I feen, of graceful mien, A nymph from Mullingar, So fair, fo bright, flie caught the fight Of all at Swandling Bar. Tho* here I came to quench a fUmc I've got a deeper fear. Yet can't endure to fcek a cure By leaving Swandling Bar^ tij^fi^ K 4 ( 136 ) A SONG. to THE TUNE OF, YE BELLES AND YE FLIRTS. Ye fleerers and flirts, and ye proud little things. When receiv'd by your neighbours around, Pri'thee tell me from whence your impertinence fprings. Good manners at once to confound ? What means the fly wink, the fatyrical fneer. The whifper that wounds as it flies ? poor girls, ye have fadly miftakcn, I fear. Both the ufe of your tongue, and your eyes. Poor girls, &c. The blufh of the rofe and the mildnefs of morn Are beauties no art can fupply ; By nature, they're yours, and 'tis you they adorn, In your cheek, in your lip, in your eye. But ' ( 137 ) Bat if traitors to Nature, their virtue you lliglit, And put Malice and Art in their place, Both Cupid and Hymen you'll foon put to flight, And quiz away every Grace. Poor girls, &c. The nymph wlio on beauty and fatire depends, Muft call all her wits to her aid, ' Which fhe greatly will need, when (he's loll all her friends, And is left a forfaken old maid. Whilft the fair one, whofe fenfe and good nature flie try'd. In the days of her frolic and fport. Is now far above her, and but for her pride. She gladly her fivour would court. Poor girls, &c. Thofe ( ^3^ ; I'hofd virtues, and charms, which \vc prize in iiic fair, jMas I are negleded by you : Humility pines, and good fenle in dcfpait Has totally bid you adieu. Yet recaj yoyr loft reafon, and banifli your pridc> And what charms you pofTefs we'll approve ; If adornd with thofe merits, which now you deride^ Xou'll regain our efteem and our love. Dear girls, Sic *.iM^ ( ^39 ) A PARTY AT QUADRILLE, LADY POOLERS HOUSE. Enter Lady Wrangle, Mrs. Frett, and Mr. Carder. Lady P. Ladies, your ferv-aht, this Indeed is kind To come to one fo much diflrcfs'd in mind ; Since Friday lafb, the day poor Pompey died, No foul I've feen, nor left my fire-fide* Lady W. Well, dearefl Madam, talk no more of that. Nothing is like a game at cards, and chat. To eafe the mind j I'rn fure I found it fo When poor Sir Simon died j you all well know How very much relieved I was by play ; When morn was over I began the day. Mr. ( HO ) Mr. C. Come ladies, then 'tis bed to lofe no time. To dwell on griefs I always deem a crime. Lady P. Pray, ladies, take your places as you chufe -, In every feat I know Fm fure to lofe. Mrs. F. To lofe ! dear Ma'am, /think to leave off play, Such cards /fat with all the other day. When in this very houfe your La''(hip won ; 'Tis what I never do, Pve fuch a run. Beaded fuch hands ! I loft on Tuefday night Three double mattadores, they broke me quite. Lady P. Ladies, your flakes. Wc play our ufual rate. Mrs. F'. Here, Madam's, mine j 'tis gone as fure as fate. Lady P. Sir, you have pafs'd, I now may fhew my cards ; Six mattadores ; four fiHi are my reward. Lady W. Indeed ! this way the cards are fure to go. Whatever game I play, or high or low. The other night I lod at Lady Vole's My twenty fhillings, now at Lady Poole's This night I'm like to lofe three times that fum ; I fwear I'll keep from Mrs. Fuzz's drum. Mrs. ( 141 )' Mrs. F. I take a king if no onc^ play^ al)ne/ Lady W. Madam, I do ; I'll not fit like a drone With mattadores, fix trumps; 'tis monftroua hard To have a vole within one fingle card. . . Might I have took a kingJ'd had it clear. But fomc folks cards will always play fevere. Mrs. F. Severe indeed ! Sure mine the hardeft cafe is. To fit thus long, and never fee the aces. And now, the lirft time I could take a king, I'm fuperfeded, that's the very thing. I fometimes get a hand, but never play ; n I owe your La'fhip four, I've none to pay. ! Lady P. I'll mark you up, dear Ma'am, the ufual f J w\iy. Mrs. F. Well, now by chance at laft I've got a game. And if you all give leave, my trump I'll name i Hearts then it is'j fpadille I lead, oh fie ! One hand without a trump ! how hard they lie. Lady P. Madam, you have your game, no trump is in, Mrs. F. Yes, Ma'am, becaufe this hand of courfe muft win. Lady ( 142 ) I^y P. ypon my honour, now, I've never play'd But one poor hand, and now fix filli have paid. I vow next time I deal I'll make a fuz. Mrs. F. I wonder how your next door neighbour does I heard laft week he loft his only fon. Lady p. Yes, and his wife is dying. What is done ? I think your La'fliip aik'd > I pafs of courfe ; Upon my life my cards get worfe and worfe. Mrs. F. I'm quite fupriz'd, I'm really call'd thistime^ It is your La'lhip's trick, 'tis none of mine; For if not call'd I'd been a bitter foe. Lei's fee thofc cards, I know not how they go. Mr. C. Ladies, I think the vole's at your command, At lead I can't prevent it by my hand. Lady W, Ma'am, you're to ipeak ; pray fcarch the tricks again. Mrs. F. Mv dearcft Ala'am, I fear 'tis all in vain. One fatal chance would overfet the whole ; And yet 'twould make us both to win a vole. Can you forgive me ? May I now dechire. I^dy V .\Iadani, pi^orccd ; tliis is not quire fo fair. Lady ( H3 ) Lady W. Oh, Mrs. Frett, you've ruin'd me inde^ ; How could it e'er be won, and you to lead ? My Lady Poole did well to bid us play When Ihe'd that knave; we've all the world to par, Mrs. F. Indeed, I think Co too ; (he drew me in ; Yet lure the chance was great that we fliould win. Lady W. By no means. Ma'am ; your play I can'; excufe J I'm fadly wrong'd, for I could not refufe. Lady P, Well, Ladies, pleafe to lay your money down. The pool's my conftant care, 'tis always known ; I'm fure you'd mattadores, fo give us five ; Now this may turn my luck, and I may thrive. Poor Mr. Carder was without a fini. But now he's rich, and juft as he could widi- Lady W. I know not who is rich, I'm fure Tm pooi^ And lay my ruin at that Lady's door. Mrs. F, Indeed, dear Ma'am, you fee I'm quite undone ; 'Tis very hard to twit, when if we'd won You'd been the firfl to juftify my play; But let it pafs your Ladylhip's own way; Thh ( 144 } This fine lone hand fome of my debts will fettle; 'I'is but my due to ride an my ozvn cattle. Lady \y. 'Tis very lucky, Mrs. Fret, for you. But with thefe lolles what am 1 to do r i willi with all my heart the pool was out. For I'm engag'd to Lady Racket's rout. Lady P. That's quite diftreffing, Ma'am, but I fubmits 'Twill break our fet ; but juft as you think fit. The pool is out, upon my word I win. Lady W, Indeed, I thought your La'ihip's pawn was in. Lady P. Oh no, I took that out an hour ago j I'm Hire, Sir, you will witnefs it was fo. Mr. C- Aladam, I always triink your La'lhin right ; I juft have loft, three guineas by the night. Lady P. O lack-a-day ! 'twas unpolite to beat Our only man 'twas an unlucliy icat. We've 'vvon an even Iharc, or very nig'i. The cards to-night have not run very high. Ladies, your humble lervant, Sir, good bye, ( '45 ) WRITTEN FROM BATH TO A FRIEND IN THE COUNTRY, IN THE YEAR 17%$, What ! breathe Anjl'ean air, and yet not fend One ambling rhyme to my fequefter'd friend; Forbid it every Mufe of Avon's ftream, (Apollo's chief refort, if right I deem) ; And you, ye Nine, which o'er Batheafton^s urn Prefide, to give the myrtle wreath, or burn ; Who at the call of many a daring wight. Who ne'er before in verfe elTay'd to write, Attendant fly, impregnating the air With Ode and Sonnet to the biooming fair. To me, your fuppliant, deign to waft a breeze From Avon*s banks, and fam'd Batheafton's trees : Thus borne aloft Parnaflus Hill I'll climb. And write my Journal in Anjiean rhyme, L So ( H^ ) So firfl taking In a great gulp of the air. And trying to find the poetical chair. To tell you my hifl'ry with fpeed I prepare. i For furely 'tis right my relations fliould know It, That their wandering coufin is turn'd out a poet i Ah, well would it be, fince this place is To dear. Could fhe turn a camelion, and live on the air. Or like poets of old, to a garret retire. And ne'er to a h^ll or a parlour afpire -, For, flrange to relate it, there's not to be found Two rooms by the year unci^i: fifty good pound ; But fince 'tis the fafhion to fpend all one's wortli, 'Tis befl to beftow it on pleafure and mirth. So at Bath will I live, let it end as it may. And a lodging I'll take in the ftreet titled Gay. But how to dcfcribe the fine fights which I fee, Or the Lady Bab Frightfuls, who drink up my tea, With all their fme fpeechcs to me and my friend. With the tickets for balls, or the notes which they fend, For ( 147 ) For all (o polite are, fo civil and kind, That to tell you the half on't no words can I find j Nor mud 1 omit how the mornings glide on. For I'm told to wafte time is entirely the ton, 3o I'm fure I am right in the method I take. For I wade all my time from the hour J awake i For what more can do it, than breakfafting out, And then in the flreet to go ftrolling about. Then ftep to the Painters to reft me a while. Acquaintance to meet, and the hours to beguile. Or elfe to the Pump-room, by way of a frolic. To drink of the waters, which give me the cholic ; But I'm told at this place 'tis genteel to be ill. So I've got my good landlord to give me a pill. And to add a few draughts to make up a bill. Then home to my dinner with fpeed I repair. Which quickly is o'er, then to drefljng my hair ^ For who can appear In a place fo polite, Unlefs on the head each hair ftands upright i ^ 2 ,py ?l ( 148 ) Or who in a circle is fit to be feen Unlefs drefs'd as young as if barely fifteen. This bufinefs when ended with trouble and care. Without lofs of time I get into my chair, And flraight to the Ball-room or Play-houfe I haftej For vifits of friendfliip are quite out of tafte j Nay, I'm told it is vulgar beyond all compare To own a relation, tho' ever fo near. But what pen can defcribe the high heads I behold, "Not tired like the matrons we read of, when old ; No, thefe pretty creatures are jufl the reverfe. And their heads at a diflance appear like a hearfe, With plumes fweetly nodding, with plaits and with gold. With things out of number which ne*er can be tokl. Which fcr\'e to convince me St. Peter's not read By folks of high tajle^ who are perfe^ly bred ; And I can't but believe that they pafs all the morning in learning to dance, and their heads thus adorning, Ob, ( H9 ) Ob, were you to fee the fine capers they give, You ne'er would forget ir as long as you live; But I cannot relate you the half that I fee. Nor how we eat cake, or how we drink tea. For the clock has ftruck fix, and the poll's at the door; But if this (hould delight you, you foon fliall have more. ^u^^ L 3 ( H^ ) EXTRACTS FROM ECCLESIASTICUS, COMPILED TOGETHER ON VARJOUS SUBJECTS,. ON WISDOM. All wirdom Cometh from the Lord, and is with him for ever. Wifdom hath beeH created before all things, and the underflanding of prudence from cverlafting. The word of God mod high is the fountain of wifdom, and her ways, are everlafting command- ments. To whom hath the knowledge of wifdom been made manifefl ? and who hath underftood her great experience ? To whom hath the root of wifdom been madq known, or to whom hath her wife counfels been revealed ? There is one wife, and greatly to be feared, the Lord fitting upon his throne. He ( '51 ) He created, and faw her, and numbered her, ant| poured her out on all his works. She is with all flefh, according to4ier gift, and he hath given her to thofe that love him. She hath built an everlafting habitation with men, and fhe Ihall continue with their feed. She filleth all their houfes with things defirable, and their garners with her increafe. Wifdom ralneth down fkill, and knowledge of underftanding, and exalteth them to honour that hold her fad. The root of wifdom is to fear the Lord, and the branches thereof are long life. If thou defire wifdom, keep the commandments, and the Lord fhall give her to thee. Wifdom exalteth her children, and layeth hold of them that feek her. He that loveth her, loveth life, and they that feek her early, ihall be filled with joy. They that ferve her fhall minifler to the Holy One, and thofe that love her the Lord doth love. Whofo givcth ear to her fhall judge the na- tions, and he that attcndeth to her fhall dwell fe- curcly. L 4 My ( >5^ ) My fon, gather wifdom from thy youth iipy fo fhalt thou find her till thine old age. Come unto her as to one that plougheth and foweth, arid wait for her good fruits, for thou (halt not toil much in labouring about her, but thou Ihalt eat of her fruits right fodn. Bow down thy Ihoulder, and bear her, and be not grieved with her bonds. Come unto her with thy whole heart, and keep her ways with all thy power. For at the kft thou fhalt find her refl, and that (hall be turned to thy joy. Then fhali her fetters be a flrong defence for thee, and her chains a robe of glory. For there is a golden ornament upon her, and her bands are purple lace. Thou fhalt put her on as a robe of honour, and fhall put her about thee as a crown of joy. BlefTed is the man that doth meditate good things in wifdom, and that reafoneth of holy things by his underllanding ; he fhall pitch his tent nigh unto her, and fhall lodge in a lodging where good things arei he fliall (ct his children under her fhelter, and they fliall lodge under her branches ; by her he fhall be covered froiii heat, and in her glory Ihall he dwells with the bread of underftand- jng ( i5 ) 1-hg fliall file feed, and give hirh the water of wif- dom to drink; he fhall be flayed upon her, and fhali not be moved j he fhall rely upon her, and fhall not be confounded; fhe fhall exalt hiiii above his neighbours, and in the mldfl of the congrega- tion fhall flie open his mouth ; he fhall find joy and a crown of gladnefs, and fhe (ball caufe him to inherit an everlafling name. Wifdom fhall praife herfelF, and fhall thus glory in the midfl of her people : I came out of the tiiouth of the mofl high, and covered the earth as a cloud ; I dwelt in high places, and my throne was in a cloudy pillar ; I alone compafTed the cir- cuit of heaven, and walked in the bottom of the fea, and in ail the earth ; in every people and na- tion I got a pofTeflion ; for the Creator of all things gave me a commandment, and he that made me caufed my tabernacle to re"ft, and faid, let thy dwelling be in Jacob, and thine inheritance in If- rael. In the holy tabernacle I ferved before him, and ib was I eftablifhed in Sion ; likewife in the beloved city he gave me reft, and in Jerufalem was my power fixed I took root in an honourable people, even in the portion of the Lord's inheri- tance. I Was exalted like a cedar in Lebanus, and as a cyprefs tree upon the mountains of Hermon ; like a palm tree in Engaddi, and as a rofe tree in Jericho; as a fair olive tree in a pleafant field, and as a plane tree by the water. I gave a fwect fcent like cinnamon and afpalathus. I yielded an odour like ( 54 ) like the beft myrrh, as galbanum and onyx, as fweet ftorax, and as the t'umes of frankincenfe in the ta- bernacle. As the turpentine tree I flretched out my branches, and my branches are the branches of honour and grace; as the vine brought I forth fruit, and my bloffoms are thofe of honour and riches. I am the mother of fair love and fear, of knowledge and holy hope; I therefore, being eternal, am given to all my children, which are named of him. Come unto me, all ye that labour and arc defirous of me, and fill yourfelves with my fruits ; for my memorial is fwceter than honey, and mine inheritance than the honey-comb ; they that eat me fliall yet be hungry, and they that drink mc Ihall yet be thirflv. ^eM^^ ( ^S5 ) ON T^HE FEAR OF THE LORD. The fear of the LrOrd is honour, glory, gladnefs, and a crown of rejoicing. The fear of the Lord maketh a merry countenance, and giveth joy, and gladnefs, and a long life. To fear the Lord is the beginning of wifdom, and it was created with the faithful in the womb. Whofo feareth the Lord, it (hall go well with him at the laft, and he (hall find favour in the day of his death. The fear bf the Lord is a crown of wifdom, making peace and perfed health to flourifli, which are the gifts of God, who enlarges the rejoicing of thofe that love him. The fear of the Lord driveth away fms, and when it is prefent it turneth away wrath. The fear of the Lord is wifdom and inftruftion, and faith and meeknefs are his delight. Ye that fear the Lord, wait for his mercy, and go not afide, left ye fall ; ye that fear the Lord, believe in him, and your reward (liall not fail ; ye that fear the Lord, hope for good, and for everlafting joy and mercy. Look at the generations of old, and fee, did ever any truft in the Lord and w^ere confounded ; or did any abide in his fear, and were forfaken ; or whom did ( H^ ) id id he ever defpife who called upon him ? Tiicy that fear the Lord will not diiobey his word, and they that love him will keep his ways, and will prepare their hearts, and humble their fouls in his fight, faying, we will fall into the hands of the Lord, and not into the hands of man, for as his majefly is, fo is his mercy. Tlie fear of the Lord is all wifdom, and all wif- dom is the performance of the law and the know- ledge of his omnipotency. Whofo feareth the Lord will receive his difcipline, and they that feek him early Ihall find favour; there fhall no harm happen unto him that feareth the Lord, but in temptation even again will he deliver him; he fhall not be afraid, for the Lord is his hope. Blefled is the foul of him that feareth the Lord ; to whom doth he look ? and who is his ftrength ? The eyes of the Lord are upon them that fear him ; he is their mighty protedion and llrong flay ; a defence froni heat, and a cover from the fun at noon; a prc- iervation from ilumbling, and a help from falling ; he raifeth up the foul, and lighteth the eyes ; he giveth health, life, and blefllng. ^:j^nt < isi ) N DUTY FROM CHILDREN TO THEIR PARENTS. Hear me your Father, O ye children, and there- after that ye may be fafe ; for the Lord hath given the father honour over the children, and hath con- firmed the authority of the mother over her fons, Whofo honoureth his father, maketh an atone- ment for his fins ; he that honoureth his mother, is one who layeth up trcafure. Whofo honoureth his father fliall have joy of h'S own children, and when he maketh his prayer, it Hiall be heard. He that is dutiful to his father iliail have a long life, and he that is obedient to his mother, is beloved of the Lord. He that feareth the Lord will honour his father, and will do fervice to his parents, as to his mailers. Honour thy father and thy mother, both in word an4 deed, that a blefling may come upon thee from them ; for the blefling of the father eflar blilhes the houfes pf children, but the curfe of tlic mother rootetb out foundation. My fon, help thy father in his aee, and grieve nd- ip;2; bira not as long as he liveth j and if his underfland ( 153 ) Ing fall, have patience with him, and defplfe him not when thou art In thy full ftrength ; for the reliev- ing of thy father fhall not be forgotten; in the day of afHidion it fhaU be remembered; thy fins alfo 111 all melt away as the ice In fair warm weather. Honour thy father with thy whole heart, and forget not the forrows of thy mother ; remember that thou waft begotten of them, and how can'ft thou recom- penfe them the things they have done for thee ? He that forfaketh his father is a blafphemer, and he that angereth his mother is curfed of God, ut^m ( ^59 ) ON THE DUTY OF PARENTS TO THEIR CHILDREN. Hast thou children ? inftrud them, and bow down their neck from their youth. He that loveth his fon caufeth him often to feel the rod, that he may have joy of him in the end ; he that chailifcth his fon fliall have joy in him, and rejoice becaufe of him amongft his acquaintance. Though his fa- ther die, yet is he as though he were not dead ; for he hath left one behind him that is like himfelf Whilft he lived, he faw and rejoiced in him, and when he died, he was not forrowful; he left behind, him an avenger againil his enemie?, and one that fliall requite kindnefs to his friends. He that maketh too much of his fon, (hall bind up his wounds, and his bowels will be troubled at evxry cry : humour thy child, and he (liall make thee a- fraid ; play with him, and he fliall bring tliee to heavinefs ; laugh not with him, left thou have for- row with him, and left thou gnafli thy teeth in the end ; give him not too much liberty in his youth, and wink not at his foUies. Bow down his neck whilft ( i^o ) whilft he is young, left he wax ftubborn, and be idifobedient to thee, and (6 bring forrovv to thine heart. An horfe not broken becometh headftrong, and a child left to himfelf will be wilful, , Haft thou daughters ? have a care of them j the father waketh for his daughter when no man know- eth, and his care for her takpth away fleep , when (lie is young, left (he pafs the flower of her age, and being married, left ihe ftiould be hated. Keep a fure watch over a fliamelefs daughter, left flip make thee a laughing- ftock to thine enemies, and a bye-word ip the city; a reproach amongft the people, and make thee aOiamed before the multitucje. Marry thy daughter, and thou (halt have per- formed a weighty matter ; but give her to a man of underftanding, An eyil nurtured fpn is the diftionour of his fa- ther that begat him, and a foolifti daughter is born to his l.ofs. A wife daughter ftiall bring an inheri- tance to her hulband; but (he that liveth difho- neftly is her father's heavinefs. She that is bold, diflionoureth both her huft^and and father, and they fliall both defpife her. tfc^i^ ( i6i ) ON A GOOD WIFE. Blessed is the man that hath a virtuous wife, for the number of his daj^s fliall be double; a virtuous woman rejoiceth her hulband, and he fhall fulfil the years of his life in J3cace. . . The grace of a wife deligiiteth her hufband, and her difcretion <\vill fatten his bones. A fhamefaced and faithfui/woman is a double grace, and her con- tinent mind cannot be valued. Forego not a wife and good woman, for her price is above gold. As the fun when it arifeth in the high heaven, fo is the beauty of a good wife. As the clear light is upon the holy candleftick, fo is the beauty of the face in ripe age. As the golden pillars are upon fockets of lilver, (o are the fair feet with a conflant heart. A (ilent and loving woman is a gift of the Lord, and there is nothing fo much worth as a mind well inftrufted. A good wife is a good por- tion, which fhall be given to them who fear the Lord; he that getteth her beginneth a potreffion, a help like unto himfelf, and flie is a pillar of reft. If there be kindnefs, meeknefs, and comfort in her tongue, then is not her hulband like mofl other pien. hi ( i62 ) OF A WICKED WIFE, An evil wife is as a yoke fliaken to and fro ; he that hath hold of her is as though he held a fcor- pion. A fhamelefs woman fhall be counted as a clog, but fhe that is fliamefaced will fear the Lord. Give me any plague, but the plague of the heart, or any wickednels, but the wickednefs of a woman. I had rather dwell with a lion and a dra- gon, than keep houfe with a wicked woman. A loud crying woman and a fcold fliall be fought out to drive away enemies. A drunken woman and a gadder abroad caufeth great anger, and flie will not cover her own fhame. A dilhoneft woman con- temneth fliame, but an honed woman will reve- rence her hufband. A woman that honoureth her hufband fliall be counted wife of all; but ihe that fhameth him by her pride Qiall be called ungodly of all. A wicked wife abateth the courage, maketh a heavy countenance, and a wounded heart. A wo- man that will not comfort her hufband in diftrefs maketh weak hands and feeble knees. As the climb- ing of a fandy way to the aged, fo is a wife full of words to a quiet man. iler hufband fliall fit amongfl: his neighbours, and when he heareth her Hull ( '63 ) (hall figh bitterly. The wlckednefs of a woman changeth her face and darkeneth her countenance like fackcloth. The whoredom of a woman may be known in her looks and eyelids. All wicked- nefs is but little to the wickednefs of a woman ; let the portion of a (inner fall upon her ; if fhe go not as thou wouldeil have her, cut her off from thy fledi, and give her a bill of divorce, and let her go- e4^>8 M Z ( i64 ) DUTY OF THE RICH TO THE POOR. Mv Ton, defraud not the poor of his living, and make not the needy to wait long. The bread of the needy is their life; he that defraudeth him thereof is a man of blood ; he that taketh away his neighbour's living Hayeth him ; and he that defraudeth the labourer of his lure is a blood- fhcdder. Make not an hungry foul forrowful, neither provoke a man in his diflrefs. Add not more trouble to a heart that is vexed, and defer not to give to him that is in need. Rejedl not the fup- plication of the afflided , neither turn av,'ay thy face from a poor man. Help the poor for the commandm.ents fake, and turn him not away be- caufe of his poverty. Turn not away thine eye from the needy, and give him none occaf on to curfe thee, for if he curfe thee in the bitterncfs of his Jieart, his prayer iliall be heard by him who made him. He will not accept any ]:)erfon againft a poor man, but will hear the prayer of the opprelfed ; he will not defpife the fupplication of the fatherlefs, nor the widow, when flic pourcth out her com- plaint. Do not the tears run down the widow's cheeks ^ and is not her cry againil them that caufq them ( i65 ) them to fall ? The prayer of the humble pierceth the clouds, and till it come nigh he will not be comforted, and will not depart till the Moft High fhall behold to judge righteoufly and execute judg- ment, for the Lord will not be llack, neither will the Almighty be patient towards them, till he has fmitten in funder the loins of the unmerciful, and repaid vengeance to the heathen ; until he have taken away the multitude of the proud, and broken the fceptrc of the unrighteous. My fon, blemifli not thy goodnefs, neither ufe uncomfortable words when thou giveft any thing. Let it not grieve thee to bow down thine ear to the poor, and give him a friendly anfwer with meeknefs ; deliver him that fuffereth wrong from the hand of the oppref- fori be not faint-hearted when thou fitteft in judg- ment ; be as a father to the fatherlefs, and inftead of a hufband to their mother ; fo fhalt thou be as the fon of the Mod High, and he fliall love thee more than thy mother doth. Fail not to be with them that weep, and mourn with them that mourn ; be not flow to vifit the fick, for that fhall make thee beloved, and ftretch thine hand to the poor, that thy bleffing may be perfected. What- foever thou takeft in hand, remember the end, and thou flialt never do amifs. m 3 ( i66 } O a F R I E N D S H I I^. If thou wouldfl get a friend, prove hirii firfli and be not over hifty to credit him. A faithful friend is a ftrong defence^ and he that hath found fuch an one hath found a treafure. Nothing doth countervail a faithful friend, and his excellency is invaluable. A faithful friend is the rhfediciiie of life, and they that fear the Lord Ihall find him. Change not thy friend for any good, neither a faithful brother for the gold of Ophin Forfake not an old friend, for the tiew is not comparable to him. A new friend is as new wine j when it is old thou fhalt drink it with pleafure. Do good unto thy friend before thou die, and according to thy ability ftrctch out thy hand, and give him. Admonifli thy friend, it may be he hath not faid it, and if he have, that he ijpeak it not r.gain. Admonifh ( i67 ) Admonlfli thy friend, for many times it is a flander, and believe not every tale. Love thy friend, and be faithful unto him ; but if thou bewrayed his fecrets, follow no more after him, for he is far off j he is as a roe efcaped out of the fnare. Lend to thy neighbour in time of his need. Keep thou thy word, and deal faithfully with him, and thou ilialt always find the thing neccffary for thee. Forget not the friendfhip of thy furety, for he has given his life for thee. Be faithful to thy neighbour in his poverty, that thou mayeft rejoice with him in his profperity; abide ftedfafb unto him in the time of his trouble. A mean eftate is not to be contemned, nor the rich that are foolifh to be had in admiration. I will not be afliamed to defend a friend, neither will I hide myfelf from him. Ufe thy money for thy brother and thy friend, and let it not ruft under a ftone to be loft ; defraud not thyfelf of a good day, and let not the part of a good defire pafs over thee. Vij0h^ M 4 ( i68 ) AGAINST PRIDE, ANGER, AND STUBBORNNESS, O Lord ! Father and God of my life, give me not a proud look, but turn away from thy fervant always a haughty mind. The Lord hath cad down the throne of proud princes, and fet up the meek in their, ftead. The Lord hath plucked up the root of proud .nations, and planted the lowly in their place. Pride was not made for man, nor fu- rious anger for thofe that are born of a woman ; pride is hateful before God and man, and by it doth one commit iniquity. Why is duft and afhes proud } He that touciieth pitch fliall be de- filed, therewith, and he that hath fellowfliip with a proud man fhall be like unto him. In the punifliment of the proud there is no re- ihedy, foi* the plant of wickednefs hath taken root in him. The beginning of pride is when one de- jiarteth from God, arid his heart is turned away from his Maker j for pride is the beginning of finj and he that hath it lliall pour out abomination^ The ftrife of the proud ends in bloodfliedding, and their revilings are grievous to the car. A furious man cannot be jultified, for the fway of his fury iiiall ( >69 ) Iliall be his deftruftion. Strive not with an nngry man, and go not with him into a fohtary place, for blood is as nothing in his fight, and where there is no help, he will overthrow thee. Mockery and re-* proach are from the proud, but vengeance as a lion Ihall lie in wait for them. As the matter of fire is, fo it burneth, and as a man's ftrength is, fo is his wrath, and according to his riches his anger rlfeth. A hafty contention kindleth a fire, and an hafty contention fheddcth blood . Strive net with a mighty man, left thou fall into his hands, nor with a man that is full of words, and heap not wood on his fire. Kindle not the coals of a finner, left thou be burnt with the flame of liis fire. Rife not up in anger with an injurious perfon, left he lie in wait to entrap thee in thy words. Jeft not with a rude man, left thy anceftors be difgraced. Rejoice not over thy greateft enemy being dead, but remember we die all. Bring not every tnan into thine houfe, for the deceitful man hath many trains ; for he heth in wait, and turneth good into evil, and in things worthy praife will he lay blame upon thee ; of a fpark of fire a heap of coals is kindled, and a finful man layeth wait ibr blood. Take heed of a mifchievous man, for he worketh vvickednefs, left he bring upon thee a perpetual blot. Children being haughty through difdain and want of nurture do ftain the nobility of their kindred. An ( ^7^ ) An obflinatc iicart fhall be laden with ibrfows, and the wicked man (liall heap fin upon fin. He that revengeth ftiall find vengeance from the Lord, who will furely keep his fins in remembrance. Forgive thy neighbour the hurt that he hath done thee, lb ihall thy fins be forgiven ; one man beareth hatred againft another, and doth he feek pardon from the Lord r he (hewcth no mercy to a man who is like himfelf, and doth he aflc forgivenefs of his own fins ? If lie that is but flefli nouriili hatred, who will entreat for pardon for his fins ? Remember thy end, and let enmity ceafe j re- member corruption and deaths and abide in the commandments. %U0^ ( i7t ) bN THE RIGHT OR WRONG USE OF THE TONGUS. Sweet language will multiply friends, and a fair fpeaking tongue will increafc kind greetings. Re- frain not to fpcak, when there is occafion to do good, for by fpeech wifdom fhall be known, and learning by the words of the tongue. A wife man fliall promote himfelf to honour by his words, and he that hath underflanding fhall pleafe great men. Be lledfaft in thy mind, and let thy word be the fame; be fwift to hear, and let thy life be fincere, and with patience give anfwer. If thou haft un- derftanding, anfwer thy neighbour, if not, lay thy hand upon thy mouth ; honour and Ihame are in talk, and the tongue of man is his fall. He that can rule his tongue fliall live without ftrife, and he that hateth babbling fhall have lefs evil. Rehearfe not iinto mother that which is told unto thee, and thou ihait fare never the worfe. Whether it be to a friend or a foe, talk not of other men's fecrets, and if even thou canft without offence, reveal them not. If ihou haft heard a word, let it die with thee, and behold it will not burft thee. A fool travailcth with a word ; as a woman in labour of a child, fo will ( ^-r- ) will an unlcaibnable tale be in the mouth of the unwife. The talking of a fool is like a burden in the way, but grace fliall be found in the lips of the. wife. A tale out of feafon is as mufic in time of mourning j but correftion by wifdom is never out of time. As is a houfe dcilroycd, fo is wifdom to a fool, and the knowledge of the unwife is as talk without fenfe. The inner parts of a fool are like a broken vcffelj'and he will ho'd no knowledge as long as he liveth. The knowledge of a wife man (liall abound like a flood, and his counfel is like a pure fountain of life. If a,ikilful man hear a wife word, he will commend it, and add unto it, but as foon as one of no undcrftanding heareth it, it diTplcafeth him, and he cafteth it behind his back. Dodrine unto fools is as fetters on the ito^i, and like manacles on the right hand. He that telleth a tale unto a fool fpeaketh to one in a fiumber; when he hath told his tale, he will lay, what is the matter ? ; The lips of talkers will be telling fuch things as pertain not unto them, but the words ot iuch as have undcrPianding arc weigiicd m the balance. The hearts of fools are in their moutlis, but the mouths of the wife are in their hearts. Learning unto a wife man is as an ornament of gold, and like a bracelet upon his right arm. ^*4^r?i ( 173 ) THE SCRIBBLER. 1*^ PAPER. Another Novel! Pray, have you read it. Sir? or you ? Who the deuce would ? cried an elderly gen- tleman (laying down the news-paper, and taking off his fpedacles) I have already, Sir, waded through fuch an inundation of hobgoblin nonfenfe, of haunted caftles, myfterious caverns, yawning graves, bleeding ghofts, &c. that, had they not a ready pafTage out of my head, I iliould expect to find my night-cap rife perpendicular from it, and every hair turned white with horror ; yes, yes. Sir, fuch would be the efFecl every bloody-minded no- vel-writer wifhes to inflidl upon you ; but I no fooner fee the drift and cruelty of his intei\tion, than I grow enraged at my author, arm myfelf with a coat of mail, not like Don Quixote, to ftght my opponents as giants, but prepared to difpute the pa's with them, to ftrip off their white Jl/eets^ to pluck out their goggle eyes^ and fhew them as nature defigned them. There are another fpecies of novel writers, rejoined a pale-faced and emaciated lady, far more difficult to combat, I mean your projejj'ed fcntimental autlicrs, who mod ingenioufly rack. every ( 174 ) every corner of their brain to invent new tortures for your nerves ; who dehber^tcly probe every fibre in your heart, where, if any recent forrow is lulled or fupprefied, it is again torn o{>en. Againfl thefe writers there is no appeal, for whilft there are readers found who not only fhttje to wafte their time, but like to be made unhappy into the bargain, there will ever be plenty of authors ready to affift them to the utmoft of their wifhes in the accomplifli- ment of both. At the conclufion of this ha- rangue, 1 obferved the gentleman who had uninten- tionally brought on this volley of abufe (by fimply afking, have you read the new novel) llily flip two volumes into the chaos of traQi upon the counter, and take two others from the (lielf, faying, as he hobbled out, there, Mr. Librarian, I have taken Joe Miller's Jefts and the Pilgrim's Progrefs, as I be- gin to think it is better after all to be merry and wife than fad and filly. And a good exchange he hasrnade indeed, replied a lady ; for the two books he had before fingled out, I perceive, were the Sorrows of Werter, and the Self- Tormentor. As I had gotten poffeffion of an arm-chair by the fire- fide, to obferve the important bulinefs of a circu- lating library, I found myfelf too comfortable, and too well entertained, to quit my feat haftily, parti- cularly as at that inflant three beautiful young ladies prelied in, and with animated and inquiring countenances requefted the catalop^ue to chufe their fludies from, when all crowding over it, the tail.:i:i- { '75 ) talieft of the three called out, Oh, m^'deareil Lydia, I have now met with the book I have beea mad after, and abfolutcly dying for. I am told by Mrs. Dozer (who reads every thing) it is a moft enchant- ing novel, and fo affeding, it is enough to break your heart. She affured me Ihe was blind with crying, and that poor Counfellor Winifred de- clared it had deftroyed liis appetite, and broke his night's reft for fome time, for there arc (i^wQn volumes. Seven volumes ! repeated my elderly gentleman ; feven plagues and feven fu- ries I No foon.er had this exclamation elcaped his Jips, than the three young ladies burll into a loud iaugh, and cried, " What a gig he is, I quizzed him the inftant I came in." A young lady in a loofe morning drefs now trip- ped in, and whifpered a young man behind the counter, but not fo low but I could hear her en- quiry was for the Monk ; and on the man afluring her all bis fets were from home, (he cried, " that is deplorable indeed ; to be kept juft at the moft cri- tical and interefting part waiting for the laft vo- lume ; I wifti your mafter yvould buy more fets of a novel on which fo much is faid and written." I was forry to hear my friend in the corner had not overheard the whifper of the fair enquirer, being well afTured he would not have fuffered a book of fuch an alarming tendency (particularly i;i the hands of fo young a ftudent) to have been named with- out his admonition to the reader, and his anathema again ft ( '7 ) againft the writer. 1 felt pained (on contemplating the innocent countenance of the young lady) to think that blafphemy and obfcenity fnould ever meet her eye ? J wiflied to fpeak and flop the con- tagion of the evil, as it Teemed as yet not to have diffufed its baneful influence ; but to accoft her, and to counfel her, would be uncommon, and be deemed impertinent. How fuperior, thought I, are thofe charafters, who, regardlefs of the pundilios of breeding, will dare to do good to their fellow creatures, by obtruding their advice unaflced. With this reflection I arofe dilfatisfied with m3^felf, and having loft all tlie comfort, quitted theamufcments, cf my arm-chair. In my way home I tried to di- vert my mind by a walk through the park j it was in vain ; the young lady and her companion the Monk occupied my mind too much to admit of it. I now accufed myfelf of a breach of chriftia- nitv in not warnins; her of the danfrerous tendency of fuch fl:udies to young and unformed minds; I lamented the faQnons of the world, which lead us to comply with the follies and vices of it, infiead of o;uarding; ourfclves and others from them. In purfuing this thought, the following lines occurred, which I put down with a pencil ; Of all the foolifn vain pretences, &c. N. B. See the verfcs on ^'/lai the World will Bay, m the Colledion of Poems. Upon ( '77 ) Upon my return home (and after my evening's hap) the laughable complaints and injuries of the felf - tormented novel - readers, and the hardened cruelty and eafc, with which the authors of the ca- lamities beftow them upon their votaries, appeared in fo truly ridiculous a light to my fancy, that find- ing it was determined into a fyftem of diftreffing and terrifying on one lide, and chufing to be dif- trefled and terrified on the other, I bethought me that a written prefcription for the advantage of young beginners might not be unacceptable. Would you a lucky Novel make. Sic. Note. See the Receipt to write a Novel, a- mongft the Poems. %ji^f^ N ( 1/3 ) THE SCRIBBLE Ri II*'* PAPER. I MUST confefs there are few things that more ex* cite my wonder, or raife my fpleen, than fecing^^ (which I frequently do) a number of people met together under the femblance of mirth and friend- {hip, but in efFe(!t to diftrefs and terrify each other. When children, through the careleffiiefs of their parents, and the folly of their nurfes, tell each other flories of ghofbs and hobgoblins, till they dare not look behind them, I pity the children, and con- demn the parents, &c. ; but when I fee a fet of what we call rational creatures, that is, people at their full growth, in a high rank of life, and fup- pofed to be in their right minds, met together in affembly, after many hours fpent in adorning their perfons, as if to make thcmfelves pleafing to each other; J fay, when I hear them at the fame time they are fitting down to cards, begin in the moft calm and deliberate manner to reli.teaccounts fliocking to hu- manity, of horrid murders, dreadful accidents, total ruin, deaths, and burials of their friends and inti- mate acquaintance, with as much eafe as they would ( 179 ) ^O^ould read the weekly bills of mortality, I am at ^rft in doubt whether I am not in the infernal re- gions, or hearing the Witches in Macbeth croak round their cauldron, Double, double, toll and trouble, &c. But alas, I am foon brought to my recolleftion by fome particular or familiar recital of diftrefs, which would entirely overpower me, did I not feel myfelf roufed with indignation for the violence committed on the feelings of human nature, that fo far am J from meeting that relief or relaxation from m.y own heartfelt griefs and cares, which I came to feek for in fociety, that I return home enervated, harrafTed, and difappointed, after being fuccefliveiy torri by every different paffion which can invade or make wretched the human breaft ; would but thefe criers of death and murders meet to- gether in a fele6t fociety, J would engage that no one of them would come away lefs happy than they went to it, on the contrary, each would have had their particular gratification in relating the different misfortunes of their friends and acquaint- ance ; for it is a certain fad:^ that thefe difperfers of calamities, or Pandora's of fociety, never partake in the diflrefTes they relate ; but when it happens, as it frequently muft, in a mixt company, that fome of the nearefl connexions to thofe reported to be flain, drowned, ruined, &c. are prefent, tho. whole company is then thrown into the utmoffc conftcrnation, 1 was the other night witnefs to a i^' 2 fcene. ( iSo ) {ccnc, at a party of this kind, which I fincerely pray may never befal me again ; I was juft feated at ^ whift table, with a mod amiable friend of mine, when a lady of rank, wlio piques herfelf on having the carlieft intelligence, chanced to be fet down with us ; file was no fooner feated, than flie began in the moft confequential manner to inform us, ibe had that inftant heard Ad 1 S -'s fhip of an hundred guns had taken fire, and every foul on board had perillied. My poor friend, who was the wife of this worthy Admiral, that inftant fell back fenfelefs, and to all appearance dead. The confufion and furprize of the company you may eafily fup- pofe. I attended to little eife but the victim of this horrid tale, who, indeed, I feared in my diflraftion was too far gone to be recovered by any efforts that a phyfician then prefent could ufe to reftorc her, but through the mercy of Providence flie at length opened lier eyes ; but the agonies of grief with which Hie ftruggled, upon again coming to her fenfcs, are too painful to me to defcribe, were it poflible. She was immediately carried home, when after being fome days confined to her bed in a fever, in a ftate little Ihort of frenzy, fhe was fuddenly rellored to reaion and happinefs by a letter from the Admiral himfelf, dated fince the receipt of the information, acquainting her he was perfectly well, and had not met with the leaft ac- cident to their fleet fince the time of their embar- kation. Various other misfortunes of this kind could ( i3i ) could I recite, at many of which I ha-\'e been ]v;e-. fent ; but to a mind pofleffed of any feelings, the one I have named is fufficient to fhevv the juilice of the complaint, and the unfeeling mind will (I fe^r) never be brought to reafon. m^ { i82 ) THE SCRIBBLE H. IIIKB PAPER. Though there is no one quality with which thQ human mind is endowed, more amiable than fenfi- bility, yet I have often been led to doubt, whether the poffefTor of it is moll to be envied or pitied ; thus far is certain, that a perfon without fenfibility can never be arl obje6t of our affeftion or eftcem j but then being wrapt up m himfelf, he may with a heedlefs indifference enjoy more negative happi- nefs than one alive to all the finer feelings can pof- fibly do, by how much more the griefs and forrows of this prefent flate weigh heavier in the balance than the joys and plcafures of it. Man was un- doubtedly defigned by his Maker to partake in the griefs, as well as fhare in the joys of his fellow crea- tures ; to rejoice with thofc who do rejoice, and weep with thofe who weep, is invariably the lan- guage of holy writi but never are we promifed that the joys of this world fliall exceed the forrows of it, on the contrary, we are told, in various paf- fsges like this, that man is born to trouble, as the fparks fly upwards, &c. &c.; but I mean not that rcfleelions like thefe fliould deprefs our fpirits, but they Ihould ferve to ftrcngthen our refolutions and affcclions. ( '83 ) affections, and animate us to fliare with and affift Our fellow creatures in bearing their burthens througfh this flate of trial. I was a few evenings ago led into a difcourfe on this fubjecl with a friend of mine, poflcffed of a re- fined underfiianding and an elegant turn for poetr}''. I could well perceive he felt the lubjccl;, and that he dwelt with great force and energy of expreffion on it ; but I well knew he had drank deep in the cup of adverfit}', and that he owned a moft expand- ed and benevolent heart ; therefore finding; our converfation called forth too much of thofe feel- ings, which, though thej'- are the greatefb ornaments of human nature, fhould not be fuffered to exhauft and prey upon her, I fuddenly changed the dif- courfe, and begged my friend to ftep with me to the Coffee Houfe, where I many evenings pals an hour in chatting and reading the papers; but my poor friend did not, however, fuffer thefubjed to efcape his thoughts, for I was agreeably furprized next morning by finding the following copy of verfes on my breakfaft table, which I lend your readers, thinking them a far better definition of the efFeds of fenfibility than any thing further I can add on the fubjed. N. B. For the verfes, fee the Ode to Senfibiiity, amongft the Poems. 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