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How do I laugh, when, with affected air, (Scarce able, thro' despite, to heep his chair, Whilst on his trembling lip pale anger speaks, And the chaf'd blood flies mounting to his checks)

He talks of Conscience, which good men secures From all those evil moments guilt endures, And seems to laugh at those who pay regard To the wild ravings of a frantic bard! "Satire, whilst eavy and ill humour sway "The mind of man,must always make her way; "Nor to a bosom with discretion fraught

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Is all her malice worth a single thought: "The Wise have not the will, nor Fools the "pow'r

"To stop her headstrong course; within the "hour,

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"Left to herself, she dies; opposing strife Gives her fresh vigour, and prolongs her life. All things her prey, and ev'ry man her aim, "I can no patent for exemption claim; "Nor would I wish to stop that harmless dart "Which plays around, but cannot wound my "heart:

"Tho' pointed at myself, be Satire free; "To her 'tis pleasure, and no pain to ine." Dissembling wretch! hence to the Stoic school,

And there amongst thy brethren play the fool; There unrebuk'd, these wild, vain doctrines preach:

Lives there a man, whom Satire cannot reach?
Lives there a man, who calmly can stand by,
And see his conscience ripp'd with steady eye?
When Satire flies abroad on Falsehood's wing,
Short is her life, and impotent her sting;
But, when to Truth allied, the wound she gives
Sinks deep, and to remotest ages lives,
When in the tomb thy pamper'd flesh shall rot,
And e'en by friends thy men'ry be forgot,
Still shalt thou live, recorded for thy crimes,
Live in her page, and stink to after-times.
Hast thou no feeling yet? Come throw off
pride,
[hide.
And own those passions which thou shalt not
S, who, from the moment of his birth,
Made human nature a reproach on earth;
Who never dar'd, nor wish'd behind to stay,
When Folly, Vice, and Meanness, led the way,
Would blush, should he be told, by Truth and
Wit,

Those actions which he blush'd not to commit:
Men the most infamous are fond of fanie,
And those who fear not guilt, yet start at shame.
But whither runs my zeal, whose rapid force,
Turning the brain, bears Reason from her

Carries me back to times, when Poets, bless'd With courage, grac'd the science they profess'd; When they, in honour rooted, firmly stood The bad to punish, and reward the good; When to a Hame by Public Virtue wrought, The foes of Freedo they to justice brought,

And dar'd expose those slaves, who dar'd support A tyrant plan, and call'd themselves a Coun! Ah! what are Poets now? As slavish those Who deal in verse as those who deal in prose. Is there an Author, search the kingdom ro, In whom true worth and real spirit's found? The slaves of Booksellers, or (doom'd by fave To baser chains) vile pensioners of State? Some, dead to shame, and of those shackks proud

Which Honour scorns, for slav'ry roar aloud; Others, half-palsied only, mutes become, And what makes Smollet write makes Johnson dumb.

Why turns yon' villain pale? why bends his

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Into my breast, and flatter to betray:
Or, if those tricks are vain; "if wholesomed
Detects the frand, and points the villain
Bribe those who daily at my board are fel,
And make them take iny life who eat my br
On Authors for defence, for praise depend
Pay him but well, and Murphy is thy fre
He, he shall ready stand with venal rhyn
To varnish guilt and consecrate thy crimes
To inake corruption in false colours shine.
And damn his own good name, to rescue!

But if thy niggard hands their gifts withh
And Vice no longer rains down slow'rs ofg
Expect no mercy, facts, well grounded, te
Murphy, if not rewarded, will impeach.
What tho' cach man of nice and juster thoug
Shunaing his steps, decrees, by Honour tat
He ne'er can be a friend who stoops so low
To be the base betrayer of a foe;
What tho', with thine together link'd, his
Must be with thine transmitted down to shar
To ev'ry manly feeling callous grown,
Rather than not blast thine, he 'il blast his o

To ope the fountain whence Sedition spring To slander Government, and libel Kings; With Freedom's name to serve a present bo Tho' horn and bred to arbitrary pow'r; To talk of William with insidious art, Whilst a vile Stuart's lurking in his heart; And, whilst mean Envy rears her loatheart Flatt'ring the living, to abuse the dead, he

Whert

Where is Shebbeare? O, let not foul reproach,
Travelling thither in a city coach,

So gentle, yet so brisk; so wond'rous sweet,
So fit to prattle at a lady's feet;

Who looks as he the Lord's rich vineyard trod,
And by his garb appears a man of God?

The pill'ry dare to name; the whole intent
Of that parade was fame, not punishment;
And that old, staunchWhig, Beardmore, stand-Trust not to looks, nor credit outward show;

Can in full court give that report the lie. [ing by,
With rude unnat'cal jargon to support,
Half Scotch, half English, a declining Court;
To make most glaring contraries unite,
And prove, bevond dispute, that black is white;
To make firm Honor tamnely league with Shame,
Make Vice and Virtue differ but in name;
To prove that chains and freedom are but one,
That to be sav'd must mean to be undone,
Is there not Guthrie? Who, like him, can call
All opposites to proof, and conquer all?
He calls forth living waters from the rock;
He calls forth children from the barren stock;
He, far beyond the springs of Nature led,
Makes women bring forth after they are dead;
He, on a curious, new, and happy plan,
In wedlock's sacred bands joins man to man;
And, to complete the whole, most strange, but

true,

By some rare magic makes them fruitful too;
Whilst from their loius, in the due course of

years,

The villain lurks beneath the cassock'd Beau;
That's an Informer; what avails the name?
Suffice it, that the wretch from Sodom came.

His tongue is deadly-from his presence run,
Unless thy rage would wish to be undone.
No ties can hold him, no affection bind,
And Fear alone restrains his coward mind.
Free him from that, no monster is so fell,
Nor is so sure a blood-hound found in hell.
His silken smiles, his hypocritic air,
His meek demeanour, plausible and fair,
Are only worn to pave Fraud's easier way,
And make gull'd Virtue fall a surer prey.
Attend his church-his plan of doctrine view,
The Preacher is a Christian, dull, but true;
But when the hallow'd hour of preaching's

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By Cleland tutor'd, and with Blacow ħred. (Blacow, whom, by a brave resentiment led, Flows the rich blood of Guthrie's English Peers. Oxford, if Oxford had not sunk in fathe, Dost thou contrive some blacker deed of Ere this, had damn'd to everlasting shame) shame, [name,Their steps he follows, and their crimes partakes,

Something which Nature shudders but to
Something which makes the soul of man re-To Virtue lost, to Vice alone he wakes;
Most lusciously declaims 'gainst luscious

treat,

And the life-blood run backward to her seat?
Dost thou contrive, for some base private end,
Some selfish view, to hang a trusting friend,
To lure him on, e'en to his parting breath,
And promise life to work him surer death?
Grown old in villany, and dead to grace,
Hell in his heart, and Tyburn in his face:
Behold a Parson at thy elbow stands,
Low'ring damnation, and with open hands,
Ripe to betray his Saviour for reward,
The Atheist Chaplain of an Atheist Lord!

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Me! me!-kill me! me, who bore him!

Spare the babe this bosom fed!

Ruffians from my cottage tore him,
Where he earn'd my daily bread.
Warrior, here, with rage unfeeling,
Here behold my white breast bare;
Dye it red, and plunge your
But my child, poor stripling, spare.
My age's solace!-for his father

steel in,

Perish'd in the bloody field;
A babe he left me, which I'd rather
Than the gold the Indies yield.
Pledge of his love; and I did dearly
Love the father, in the child;
Slay us both, I beg sincerely;

On us both the earth be pil'd.
They sunk! but lo! a vision,

Cloud-clad ghosts unnumber'd rise; Pale, wan looks, that speak contrition; Blood-stain'd cheeks and hollow eyes, More in number than the ocean

Rolls the pebbles on its shore, See they come! and lo! a motion From a hand all red with gore! "Listen, listen, sons of sorrow, "Few and evil were your days; "To-day the cowslip buds, to-morrow "Low the scythe the cowslip lays. "We, like you, O! heed our warning, "Warriors were, all blythe and gay, "But we fell in life's bright morning,

"Ere we knew the joys of day.

"Sons of men, all doom'd to trouble, Travelling quickly to the grave,

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Sheath the sword, for fame's a bubble;
Live to bless, Q live to save!

"Life to be enjoy'd was given;
"Such the will of him aboye;
"Live and love, make earth a heaven,
"God made men to live and love!
"Hark! the skies with music ringing,
"Silver sounds the concave fill;
"Angels voices sweetly singing,

66

Peace on Earth, to men good-will."

Youth and beauty, lo! advance,
Light and gay as love can be,
Nimbly tripping in the dance,
Clad in robes of Charity.
Babes and mothers lift the head,
Silk-clad trains of nymphs to see,
Beauty deals them daily bread,
Deck'd in silks of Charity.
Shiv'ring with the winter's wind,
Age, disease, and infancy,
In warm wool their cold limbs bind;
Silk's the dress of Charity.
Lovely ladies at the ball,

Lovelier still, if that can be,
Rob'd in silk, in Pleasure's hall,
Dance the dance of Charity.

$257. On the late Queen of France. IF thy breast soft pity knows, O! drop a tear with me; Feel for the unexampled woes Of widow'd royalty.

Fallen, fallen, fallen from a throne!
Lo! beauty, grandeur, power;
Hark! 'tis a queen's, a mother's moan,
From yonder dismal tower.

I hear her say, or seem to say,
"Ye who listen to my story,
"Learn how transient beauty's day,
"How unstable human glory.

"And when ye hear that I was frail, "O! think what now I bear, Heed not the page of scandal's tale, "But blot it with a tear."

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§ 258. TEASE me no more, nor think I care Tho' monarchs bow at Kitty's shrine; Or powder'd coxcombs woo the fair, Since Kitty is no longer mine. Indifferent 'tis alike to me,

Verses, by DR. GLYNN.

If my favourite dove be stole, Whether its dainty feathers be Pluck'd by the eagle or the owl.

§ 256. Written on Occasion of a Ball, in which If not for me its blushing lips the Ladies agreed to dress in Silks, for the

The rose-bud opens, what care I

sake of encouraging the Spitalfields Manu-Who the od'rous liquid sips, facturers.

WEAVE the web of brightest blue,

Azure as its native sky

Flow'rets add of ev'ry hue,
'Tis the vest of Charity.
Rich the tissue of the loom,
Glossy gleams the artist's dye;
Yet, the mantle shall assume
Brighter tints from Charity.

The king of bees, or butterfly? Like me, the Indians of Peru,

Rich in mines of golden ore, Dejected, see the merchant's crew Transport it to a foreign shore. Seeks the slave despoil'd, to know, Whether his gold in shape of lace Shine on the coat of birth-day beau, Or wear the stamp of George's face?

Rev. T. MAURICE.

$259. Hohenlinden; the Scene of a dreadful § 261. The Lotos of Egypt; a Poem. By the Engagement between the French and Imperialists, in which the former conquered., By

T. CAMPBELL, Esq.

Ox Linden, when the sun was low,

All bloodless lay the untrodden snow;
And dark as winter was the flow
Of Iser rolling rapidly.

But Linden shew'd another sight,
When the drum beat at dead of night,
Commanding fires of death, to light
The darkness of her scenery.
By torch and trumpet fast array'd,
Each horseman drew his battle-blade,
And furious every charger neighed
To join the dreadful revelry.

Then shook the hills by thunder 'riven;
Then flew the steed to battle driven;
And rolling like the bolts of heaven,
Far flash'd their red artillery.

at redder yet their fires shall glow Ja Linden's heights of crimson'd snow; and bloodier still the torrent flow Of Iser rolling rapidly.

he combat deepens! on, ye brave, Who rush to glory or the grave! Jave, Munich, all thy banners wave, And charge with all thy chivalry. is morn;-but scarce von level sun an pierce the war-clouds rolling dun, here fiery Frank and furious Hun Shout in their sulphury canopy. w, few shall part where many meet; he snow shall be their winding-sheet; nd every sod beneath their feet Shall be a soldier's sepulchre.

$260. A British War-Song.

JUIT the plough, the loom, the mine; Quit the joys the heart entwine! in our brothers on the brine; Arm, ye brave, or slavery! eace, so lov'd, away is fled; Far shall leave his iron bed; o your arms, avengers dread! Strike, oh strike at tyranny. or our homes, our all, our name! list again the tyrant's aim; ritain's wrongs swift vengeance claim; Rush to arms-or slavery!

! the shades of Britons proud! fear them in yon flitting cloud! Freedom, children, or a shroud," Chuse with British slavery.

Heroes of the sea-the shore!
Quit your laurell'd rest once more;
Sreadly rouse the battle's roar,
Vengeance hurl on tyranny!

EMBLEM sublime of that primordial power

That brooded o'er the vast chaotic wave, Accept my duteous homage, holy flower, As in thy favorite flood my limbs I lave. From Ethiopia's lofty mountains roll'd, Where Nile's proud stream thro' gladden'd' Egypt pours, [old, In raptured strains thy praise was hymn'd of And still resounds on Ganges' faithful

shores!

Within thy beauteous coral's full-blown bell Long since the immortals fix'd their fondabode; [dwell, There day's bright source, OSIRIS, loved to While by his side enamour'd Isis glow'd. Hence, not unconscious to his orient beam,

At dawn's first blush thy radiant petals spread,

Drink deep the effulgence of the solar stream, And, as he mounts, still brighter glories shed.

When at the noon-tide height his fervid rays

In a bright deluge burst on CAIRO's plains, With what new lustre then thy beauties blaze, Full of the God, and radiant with its fires! Brilliant thyself, in store of dazzling white

Thy sister plants more gaudy robes unfold; This flames in purple-that intensely bright, Amid th' illumin'd waters burns in gold. To brave the tropics' fiery beam is thine,

Till in the distant west his splendours fade; Then too thy beauty and thy fire decline,

With morn to rise in lovelier charms array'd. Thus from Arabia borne, on golden wings,

The Phoenix on the sun's bright altar dies; But from his flaming bed, refulgent, springs, And cleaves, with bolder plume, the sapphire skies.

What mystic treasures in thy form conceal'd Perpetual transport to the sage supply; Where nature in her deep designs reveal'd, Awes wondering man, and charms th' exploring eye.

In thy prolific cup, and fertile seeds,

Are traced her grand regenerative powers; Life springing warm from loath'd putrescence breeds, [flowers.

And lovelier germs shoot forth and brighter Nor food to the enlighten'd mind alone, Substantial nutriment thy root bestow'd; In famine's vulture fangs did Egypt groan, From thy rich bounteous horn abundance flow'd.

Hence the immortal race in Thebes revered,

Thy praise the theme of endless rapture made; Thy image on an hundred columns rear'd,

Ånd veil'd their altars with thine hallow'd

shade.

But

!

But far beyond the bounds of Afrie borne,
Thy honours flourish'd 'mid Thibetian

snows;

Thy flowers the lama's gilded shrine adorn,

And Boodh and Bramah on thy stalk repose. Where'er fair Science dawn'd on Asia's shore,

With Nature's charms alone thy charms shall fade:

With Being's self thy beauteous tribe decl ́at; Oh! living, may thy flow'rs my temples shade, And decorate when dead my envied shrine.

Where'er her hallow'd voice Devotion rais'd, § 262. Alonzo the Brave, and the fair lange. We see thee graven on the golden ore, M. G. Lewis, Esq.

And on a thousand sparkiing gems emblazed. Child of the sun, why droops thy withering? head,

While high in Leo flames thy radiant sire? With Egypt's glory is thy glory fled; [fire? And with her genius quench'd thy native For, direr than her desert's burning wind,

Gaul's furious legions sweep yon ravaged vale;

A Warrior so bold, and a virgin so bright,

Convers'd as they sat on the green; They gaz'd on each other with tender deld, Alonzo the brave was the name of the knight, The maid's was the fair Imogene. "And ah!" said the youth, "since to-morrow "I go,

"To fight in a far distant land, flow. "Your tears for my absence soon ceasing Some other will court you, and you w "bestow

Death stalks before, grim famine howls behind,"
And screams of horror load the tainted gale.
Nile's crimson'd waves with blood polluted
roll;
[sumes;

Her groves, her fanes, devouring tire con-
But mark-slow rising near the distant pole,

"On a wealthier suitor your hand."
Oh, hush these suspicions," fair Imoge
said,

"Shall husband of Imogene be.

"So hurtful to love and to me; A sudden splendour all her shores illumes!"For if you be living, or if you be dead, Fatal to Gaultis Britain's rising star, [gains," I swear by the Virgin that none in your st That in the south the bright ascendant! Resplendant! as her Sirius shines from far, And with new fervors fires the Lybian plains. A race as Egypt's ancient warriors brave,

"And if e'er for another my heart sh "decide,

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For her insulted sons indignant glows;
Defies the tropic storm, the faithless wave,
And hurls destruction on their haughty foes."
Exulting to his source, old Nilus bears
The deep'ning thunders of the British line;
Again its lovely head the Lotos rears,

Again the fields in rain-bow glories shine.
Still wider, beauteous plant! thy leaves extend,
Nor dread the eye of an admiring uruse;
In union with the rising song ascend,
Spread all thy charms, and all thy sweets
diffuse.

Of that bold race beneath the Pleinds-born,
To chant thy praise a northern bard aspires
Nor with more ardour erst at early dawn

The Theban harpists smote theirvotive lyres.
For, oh! can climes th excursive genius bound?
No-mid Siberia bursts the heav'n-faught

strain,

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"Forgetting Alonzo the brave.
"God grant that to punish my falsehood.
Thy ghost at my marriage may sit by my
May tax me with perjury, claim me as
And bear me away to the grave."
To Palestine hasten'd the warrior so bok
His love she lamented him sore.
Fre
But scarce had a twelvemonth elaps'd
A baron, all cover'd with jewels and gole,

Arriv'd at fair Imogene's door.
His treasure, his presents, his spacious do

Soon made her untrue to her vows.
He dazzled her eves, he bewilder'd her bras
He caught her affections so light, and so
And carried her home as his spouse.
And now had the marriage been blest by
priest,

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The revelry now was begun ;
The tables they groan'd with the weight o
Nor vet had the laughter and inerrimenter

When the bell of the castle toll'd-oxE Ateither pole the Muses songs resound, [vain. And snows descend and whirlwinds rage in 'Twas then with amazement fair Ing Four thousand summers have thy pride sur-His air was terrific, he utter no sound, A stranger was plac'd by her side; [ vey'd [tombs He spoke not, he mov'd not, he look'd

Thy Pharaohs moulder in their marble But earnestly gaz'd on the bride. (arou -Oblivion's wings the pyranids shall shade, But thy fair family unfading blooms! His vizor was clos'd, and gigantic his he His armour was sable to view; [siz Still 'mid these rutin'd towers admired, revered, Wave high thy foliage, and secure expandThe dogs as, they ey'd him drew lack w. All laughter and pleasure were hush'd at These vast but crumbling piles by man were

rear'd;

Barthbu wett form'd byan-inmortal hand

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