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PROMOTION OF EDWARD THURLOW, ESQ.
TO THE LORD HIGH CHANCELLORSHIP OF ENGLAND.
ROUND Thurlow's head in early youth,
Fair Science pour'd the light of truth,
See! with united wonder cried
The experienced and the sage,
With all the skill of age!
Discernment, eloquence, and grace
The praise bestow'd was just and wise;
So the best courser on the plain
ODE TO PEACE.
COME, peace of mind, delightful guest! Return and make thy downy nest
Once more in this sad heart: Nor riches I nor power pursue, Nor hold forbidden joys in view; We therefore need not part.
Where wilt thou dwell, if not with me,
And pleasure's fatal wiles?
The great, the gay, shall they partake
And wilt thou quit the stream That murmurs through the dewy mead, The grove and the sequester'd shed, To be a guest with them?
For thee I panted, thee I prized,
Whate'er I loved before;
And shall I see thee start away,
WEAK and irresolute is man;
The bow well bent, and smart the spring,
But Passion rudely snaps the string,
Some foe to his upright intent
But Pleasure wins his heart.
'Tis here the folly of the wise
Bound on a voyage of awful length
But oars alone can ne'er prevail
The breath of Heaven must swell the sail,
THE MODERN PATRIOT.
REBELLION is my theme all day;
(As who knows but perhaps it may ?)
Yon roaring boys, who rave and fight
I always held them in the right,
When lawless mobs insult the court,
But O! for him my fancy culls
The choicest flowers she bears, Who constitutionally pulls
Your house about your ears.
Such civil broils are my delight,
Who say the mob are mad outright,
A rope! I wish we patriots had
BURNING OF LORD MANSFIELD'S LIBRARY,
TOGETHER WITH HIS MSS. BY THE MOB, IN THE
MONTH OF JUNE, 1780.
So then the Vandals of our isle,
And Murray sighs o'er Pope and Swift,
Their pages mangled, burnt, and torn,
But ages yet to come shall mourn
ON THE SAME.
WHEN wit and genius meet their doom
They tell us of the fate of Rome,
And bid us fear the same.