SONNET.

TO THOMAS EDWARDS, ESQ.

Though through the paths that Eonius trod before
Great Maro stray'd, he smooth'd the rugged way,
No antique phrase obscur'd his courtly lay,
No dross was blended with his sterling ore:
From Dryden's polish'd strains old Chaucer's lore
Derives new lustre: pleas'd we there
survey
Each mist dispers'd that skreen'd his peerless ray;
And at our fleeting language grieve no more.
Then why dost thou, great Spenser's genuine son,
Too fondly emulous that vestment wear
Which in Eliza's court adorn'd thy sire?
From sonnet's durance free'd, no longer shun
The public paths :-so shall each artless fair
Seeing approve, and knowing thee admire.

The Drummer: or the Haunted House.
A BALLAD,

Occasioned by a famous Ball at Croydon, 1755.

Ye belles and ye beaux

Who delight in lac'd clothes,
And doat on the red-coated tribe;
And ye chiefs who love rattl'ing
Of sieges and battl'ing,

Attend to the siege I describe.

*The friend of Richardson, and opponent in criticism of Warburton. Some of his sonnets, which are among the purest and best in the English language, may be found at the end of his work entitled "The Canons of Criticism;" and others in the volumes of Dodsley, Pearch, and Nichols. They are rigidly formed upon the genuine Italian model, and have been strangely overlooked by more modern collectors. He died 1757.

At a wake or a fair,

'Tis no matter where,

A youth who had ne'er been in Flanders,

At a council of war,

That was held at the bar,

Thus harangu'd to his brother commanders.

And agree, without further delay,
To besiege the next room,

Where some nymphs did presume
To draw up in dancing array.

Five drums were at hand,

Which, at their command,
Strait march'd as a guard of advance,

And with loud cannonade

Began the blockade,

And drumm'd to the tune of the dance.

At length the besieg'd

Were by famine oblig'd

On the drummers full boldly to sally,

Who at sight of their charms

E'en laid down their arms,

"Till their officers forc'd them to rally.

Though a skirmish ensu'd

There was no loss of blood,

The retreat was conducted so well;
For with caution and care
Away march'd the fair,
And to supper contentedly fell.

Not one shed a tear

Though there soon did appear
Some rents in a gown and a ruffle ;
Though this lost a shoe,

That was pinch'd black and blue,
And a third dropp'd her fan in the scuffle.

Learn hence all ye fair

Of drums to beware,

Whenever you dance at an Inn;

And be sure ev'ry night

The whole corps to invite
Before you presume to begin.

A BALLAD;

Sung at the New Year's Meeting, at Sevenoaks,

Though the nymph, whose sweet strains Once enliven❜d our plains,

Is fled to the region of Glo'ster,

Yet let us all try

Her loss to supply ;

But first in a bumper we'll toast her.

Ye Kentish youths all

What your ancestors were in the field;

With courage inspir'd

They still were untir'd,.

And never in battle would yield.

Ye married men, pray

Be resign'd and obey,

Nor be eager to order your
One night in your lives

coaches;

Be rul'd by your wives,

Nor part 'till the day-light approaches.

Ye hunters so bold

Who rise uncontroul'd,

For once with old customs comply:

Forget the brisk horn

Sleep the rest of the morn,

And to night let a song be the cry.

But you, ladies fair,

Whose charms may compare

With any that Britain can boast;
Say, who can refrain

A bumper or twain

When beauties like you are the toast?

* Mrs. Thomas, sister to General Amherst.

May ye often recall

The joys of our ball

And remember this frolicksome rout!

May each maiden gain

The heart of a swain,

And be married before the year's out!

These two ballads are taken from a manuscript volume of the author's, and have never appeared in print, as far as we are informed. They are very neatly written, and when the age of the writer is considered, 26, can certainly reflect no discredit upon his memory.

It would be an unpardonable neglect were we to conclude this article without reverting to one, of whom already honourable mention has been made, and whose compositions have, in the account of Dr.Hawkesworth, given additional value to our pages. Mrs. Duncombe

survived her husband many years, and died at an advanced age at Canterbury, October 28th, 1812. This lady possessed considerable talent, and enjoyed during her life the best literary society. Before her marriage with Mr. Duncombe, she might boast in the number of her friends, the distinguished names of Young, Harris, Hawkesworth, Richardson, Isaac Hawkins Browne, Chapone and Carter. "After the decease of Mr. Duncombe," says Mr. Nichols, "she adopted a more retired life, accompanied by her only surviving daughter; and although her advanced years cast their autumnal tints on her once brilliant mind, yet they sufficiently marked the beauty of the days that had passed, and rendered perhaps more eminent the 'light