This sting pierc'd deep, and keen surprising pain, Call'd Dick's departing spirits back again.

Sarcasm so bitter wou'd not let him die,

'Till thus he made as bitter a reply:

And, when thou shalt be laid by me, dear brother, Some friend, I hope, will write, Here lies another.”

THE MISTRESS'S ACCOMPLISHMENTS.

True poets move, said Horace long ago,
Their auditors to Thebes, or Jericho ;

But how much more does my fair girl excel,
Who wafts me by one glance from heav'n to hell?

How stale and flat e'en eloquence appears!
But she at once rivets my ravished ears :
Nor could great Cicero, will all his art,
Carry such prompt conviction to my heart.

No music can like her my passions sway,
She thrills each chord with rapture or dismay;
Keener than Hamlet's friends, she knows each stop,
From lowest note, e'en to my compass top.

She's thus my poet, orator, musician,

And could-O, might I hope she would-be also my physician!

"Her fate forlorn,
With grief I mourn;"
The shrew'd dissembler cries,
"For much I fear,

By this sad tear,

She'll scratch out Abraham's eyes."

ON MODERN MARRIAGES.

When Phoebus was am'rous, and long'd to be rude,
Miss Daphne cry'd pish! and ran to the wood;
And rather than do such a naughty affair,
She became a fine laurel to deck the god's hair.
The nymph was no doubt of a cold constitution;
For sure to turn tree was an odd resolution!
Yet in this she behaved like a coterie spouse,
As she fled from his arms to distinguish his brows.

A HELP-MATE.

When man was made, God sent a helper to him, And so she prov'd—for she help'd to undo him.

THE LONG-NOS'D FAIR.

Once on a time I fair Dorinda kiss'd,

Whose nose was too distinguish'd to be miss'd:
My dear, says I, I fain would kiss you closer,
But tho' your lips say Ay-your nose says No, Sir,
-The maid was equally to fun inclin'd,
And plac'd her lovely lilly hand BEHIND :

Here, swain, she cry'd may'st thou securely kiss;
Where there's no nose to interrupt thy bliss.

A BAD WIFE.

"My wife's so very bad," says Will, I fear she ne'er can hold it;

She keeps her bed !"-" Mine's worse," quoth Phil, "The jade has just now sold it.”

DECLARATION OF LOVE.

My heart is gone, I can't tell how,
But pure's the flame I feel;
To richer girls let other's bow—
To Mary Ann-I Neale.

TO MR. NASH,

Hopfactor, of the Borough of Southwark, on his endeavouring to suppress Peckham Fair.

Arm'd cap-a-pie, with baskets, bags, and rods,
Worms, maggots, brass, lead, the Angler's god;
More flies than Esmeraldas land endures,
(Poor Piscatorius noble luck insures ;)

Come home, his looks this woeful tale pronounce,
The luggage half a ton,—the fish an ounce !

THE TWO HERVEYS.

Two Herveys had a mutual wish to shine in separate stations,

The one invented sauce for fish, the other Medita

tions;

Each did its pungent powers apply to rid the dead and dying,

`This relishes a sole being fryed, that saves a soul from frying.

Our life shall be

All bright and free,
All love and truth divine;
Then list to me,

Oh, love! and be

My own sweet Valentine.

ON THE BANKRUPTCY OF A PERSON OF THE NAME
OF HOMER.

That Homer should a bankrupt be,
Is not so very Odd d'YE SER;
If it be true, as I am instructed,
SO ILL-HE-HAD his books conducted.

LINES ON GARRICK.

The town has found out different ways
To praise its different Lears;
To Barry it gives loud huzzas,
To Garrick only tears.

ON THE SAME BY THE SAME.

A king? Aye, every inch a king-
Such Barry doth appear:

But Garrick's quite a different thing:
He's ev'ry inch King Lear.

Kendal

SOLILIQUY OF A WINTER BATHER.

(Parodied from Pope.)

Timid mass of flesh and blood,
Plunge, ah! plunge, into the flood.