You, my meffenger Merc'ry, have long felt his pow'rs,
And his fatal attacks, made from Twick'nham's green
bow'rs;
In this contest he laurels immortal hath won,
And his fyrup completes what his pen had begun ::
He has fet you, ftark-naked, to mortals' full view,
Vow'd your poifon's deftruct ve effects to fubdue.
Nay, but all of you fuffer from this bold intruder,
Who admonifies men againft every deluder,
And, inftead of those min'rals which favour our cause,
He to botany trufts, to affift Nature's laws.
Then let us confed'rate his plan to destroy,
Who inceffantly labours our schemes to annoy.
It is you, my best friends, that I chiefly regret;
Swainfon can but retard, he can t obviate fate."
Here the grim tyrant ceas'd; when a numerous hoft
Of erft fatal Difeafes, exclaim'd they had loft
Their peftiferous fting, from the invincible hand
Of dread Swainfon, whofe med'cine fpread health through the land.
Scurvy, Dropfy, and Palfy, by him were laid low,
Even Cancer herself had receiv'd a great blow;
Whilst Confumption and Afthna had felt his attack,
Gout, and Ague, and Smail-pox, were driv'n far aback ;
Erysipelas now was bereft of her heat,
And fell Scrof'la experienc'd a ferious defeat;
Tender childhood by Worms was no longer diftreft,
Nor were females by horrid Obstructions oppreft:
Near a hundred Difeafes complain'd, that their foe,
Directing men's blood-fireams unfurlied to flow,
Long poftpon'd their defcent to the regions below.
The difpenfers of drugs next lamented their cafe,
And their practice already confign'd to difgrace;
The moit fkilful phy ficians with Swainfon were join'd,
To restore their loft vigour and health to mankind.
Real grief undertakers and fextons difplay'd,
For the Syrup de Velnos had ruin'd their trade;
Mr. S. has published a pamphlet, entitled, Mercury stark-naked,
Such its fanative virtues their victims to fave
From the fangs of difeafe, and the jaws of the grave.
Death, enrag'd, started up, and by Mercury fwore,
This proud mortal fhould fruftrate his meafures no more,
But be inftantly cited himself to attend
At the bar of this court, and no longer pretend
Thus to combat, unpunish'd, th' affaults of disease,
And fufpend the completion of Death's fell decrees.
At this inftant loud thunder concuss'd the vast dome, Whofe huge gates bursting open, straight enter'd the room Great Apollo himself!-The whole troop stood aghaft, Whilft the health-bringing god his arch-foe thus addreft: "Vain and futile thy threats-henceforth Swainfon I name On the earth my vicegerent, my rival in fame; Who yet long fhall enjoy the important coinmiffion Man to rescue from death, or amend his condition; And when Swainfon at length fhall be call'd to the sky, The reward of his actions in heav'n to enjoy,
Still the youth * fhall remain who well knows to combine Surg'ry's art with the ufe of the Syrup divine,
Which its bleffings to earth's utmost bounds fhall extend, And maintain its repute till the world's at an end."
IMPROMPTU AT TWICKENHAM.
MR. Swainfon, proprietor of the Vegetable Syrup, fome years fince purchased a villa at Twickenham. Pope had once a fummer-houfe furmounted with a Mercury on part of the ground; and at the entrance ftood a ftatue of Apollo. This the poet afterwards removed to his own villa, late Lord Mendip's, but the ftatue of Mercury was left in its old fituation. Mr. Swainson having removed that, gave rise to the following impromptu :
WHEN Pope here tun'd his claffic lyre,
Phoebus and Hermes grac'd the fpot:
With Pope the God of folar fire
Withdrew to ftay was Hermes' lot.
"Had Phoebus tarried," Swainfon cries,
O'er vegetables he might fway,
But t'other's aid I quite defpife,
So pray take Mercury away."
A HAMPER I receiv'd, of wine,
As good, Dick fays, as e'er was tasted-
And Dick may be fuppos'd to know,
For he contriv'd his matters fo,
As every day with me to dine
Much longer than the liquor lafted:-
If fuch are prefents—while I live,
Oh! let me not receive-but give.
BY MR. P. L. COURTIER.
GIVE me the kindling eye, from whence
I learn within what tumults swell!
Give me the lip's mute eloquence,
With more than tongue could ever tell!
Too coy to breathe the gentleft vows;
Too warm to let her wifhes die :
Though modeft, yet what love allows
She gives; the look, perhaps the figh.
But ye I fpurn of ftoic breed,
Who, nought admiring but yourselves, For felf for ever joy or bleed,
Ye heartless and ye tasteless elves.
The beaming foul ye never know,
The raptur'd tear ye never feel;
Yours is the blank and fullen woe,
Your eyes are dim, your hearts are steel.
But come, thou fympathizing pow'r
Dear Senfibility, defcend!
And O, with Youth's delicious hour,
Thy magic and thy fweetnefs blend.
ON VISITING DUNDRENNAN ABBEY *.
BEGUILING the forrow of life's chequer'd day,
With toil-beaten footiteps and flow,
O'er the cloud-cover'd mountains of Scotia I ftray,
And mark the fweet fcenes as I go.
Enraptur'd, I mufe o'er the time-mouldering towers,
Where Valour heroic with Beauty was fir'd,
Where Mulic to charm them exhausted her powers,
And the Bard's floried fong wing'd with pleafure the hours,
While Nature his numbers infpir'd.
Dundrennan! thy moss-crufted ruins I hail,
And with reverence enter thy door!-
No longer thy monks with night-vigils are pale,
Inftructed in mystical lore."
No longer the fong of devotion afcends,
Nor the figh of repentance is heard through the gloom; Nor the way-weary pilgrim at evening bends,
To give thanks to the Hearer of Prayer who defends
From ftorms him who has not a home!
Oft have I revolv'd on the days that are gone,
And Time's mouldy records furvey'd,
When dread Superftition afcended the throne,
And proftrate the nations obey'd!
In deep, leaden flumbers, was feal'd Learning's eye;
By Ignorance, Science in fetters was bound;
Truth languifh'd; and Genius beheld with a figh
Her wild flowers expos'd to a cold wintry fky,
Which scatter'd their leaves on the ground!"
It was in this abbey that Mary Queen of Scotland firft halted, when flying from the unfortunate battle of Langfide.
Yet in midft of the gloom darts a tranfient ray,
When pity afforded reliet;
And wip'd the fad tear of misfortune away,
And footh'd the pale victim of grief.
Thefe rude-fculptur'd walls once receiv'd with a tear
Their Queen, lovely Mary, who fled from the foe,
With a heart torn with anguish, an eye wild with fear,
And death close behind her!-a prospect how drear!—
To finish her measure of woe!
"Unfortunate Mary! why wilt thou depart?
Why, why to Elizabeth fly?-
Compaffion's warm glow never melted her heart,
Nor the fweet tear of pity her eye!
Her cold, frozen bofom 's the throne of deceit ;
She proffers protection in hopes to betray !-
For thee all the woes of confinement await,
And from the damp dungeon thou 'rt led to thy fate,
From which thou wouldst hurry away!"
Now Time's iron hand has demolish'd these walls,
In ftory so often renown'd:
'Mongft the night-weeds the turreted battlement falls; And Ruin ftalks grimly around!
Here, the ill-boding owl her lone dwelling maintains,
And with her hoarfe notes teaches Nature to figh,
And fills with affright wakeful Silence, who reigns
When night's fable mantle envelopes the plains,
And the ftar twinkles din in the sky!
To these scenes, Meditation, my wandering guide,
Where the daughters of Beauty are laid;
And the brave fons of Freedom, who conquer'd or died,
When the foe dar'd their country invade !--
There, Nature proclaims, neither Beauty's bright eye
Nor Valour from death's cruel empire can fave!
And the moment is fwiftly approaching, when I,
Who now o'er the ruins of Time heave the figh,
Forgotten, fhall fleep in the grave!
Inverleithen.
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