Epitaph in Crookorn Church-yard,

Somerfetfhire.

WITHIN this grave there is a woman laid, She was a whore, before she was a maid.

From Martial.

WHEN from ber bleeding breaft fhe drew the fword,

Thus Arria fad bespoke her dying lord,
From the deep-piercing steel no pain I found,
My lord, my lord must give the fatal wound,
And dying Pætus fends me to the ground.

An Elegy on the Death of the late
Lord Chief Baron Dalton of Ireland.
MUST pious Dalton unlamented die,

And none among the facred order try To mourn fo great a foul, tranflated bence, The church's patron, and its fure defence? No, to our fcandal, it fhall ne'er be faid, He lov'd us living, we forgot him dead. Tho' ev'ry mufe befides be filent, mine Shall not the too fuperior task decline; Tho' ev'ry thought, and ev'ry verse be crude, Ill fpeak my grief, to fhew my gratitude.

Then mourn, my muse, and give thy passion

vent,

And think it not fufficient to lament
Such virtue gone but let thy mingled lays,
As fill'd with grief, be fill'd alike with praife;
Praife the best off ring we can make the dead,
When justice, candour, truth, and honour's fled:
Proclaim bim loud, that all the world may know
How just a fubject they have now for woe,
Since the great lofs is not to us confin'd
Alone, but is a lefs to all mankind.

Juftice, which fled to beav'n fince Saturn's
reign,
Was fent to us from heav'n in him again;
This men and angels bad the joy to fee,
In ev'ry fentence, and in each decree,
Which from bis learned mouth unbyafs'd past,
Like the great judge's who's to judge at last.
Where be became interpreter of laws,
The great and low were equal in the caufe,
With feady band he did the balance bold,
And ne'er inclin'd it to one fide for gold,
The rags in totber fcale bad equal weight
With all the glittring trappings of the great.
He fill by fritteft rules of confcience went,
And made the vanquish'd go away content.
Compaffion, (heavenly virtue) in bis breaft,
Was an afylum for the poor diftreft,
And now be's gone, bis truth too plain appears
By orphans mourning, and by widows tears.
O may their lofs be foon again repair'd,

By one,
like bim, belov'd, admir'd, rever'd,
By one, like bim, compaffionately just,
A phoenix rifing from his facred duft.

The trembling criminal, when guilty found, Oft gave his fympathizing breaft a wound;

Juftice and tendernefs were then at ftrife,
One to deftroy, and one to fave a life;
But if the crime for pardon was too great,
He wept, and then pronounc'd the wretch's fate.
Shou'd I upon bis other virtues dwell,
His elegy wou'd to a volume fwell;
I've faid enough to make the world deplore
So great a loss, my mufe can fay no more,
But figh the reft, and mournful take her leave,
And clofe bis pious relicts in the grave,

Gently touch the warbling Lyre;
Burlesqu'd by Sir W— Y.
GENTLY fir and blow the fire,
Lay the mutton down to roaft,
Get it quick, 'tis my defire,
In the dripping-pan a toast;
That my bunger I remove,
Mutton is the meat I love.
On the dreffer fee it lies,

Ob the charming white and red!
Finer meat ne'er met my eyes,

On the fweeteft grafs it fed, Let the jack go quickly round, Let me bave it nicely brown'd. On the table spread the cloth,

Let the knives be sharp and clean,
Sallad get, and pickles both,

See that they be nice and green.
With good fmall beer, and sparkling wine,
Ob ye gods! bow fhall I dine!

Attempted in Latin.

LENE motum perfla focum,
Pone ovinam ut affetur,
Paret cito, jube coquum,
Toftus è patellâ detur;
Ad fedandum famem grata,
Caro hæc & peramata.
Viden? fuper lignum jacet,

Heu quam belli funt colores!
Ruber, albus, quantum placet:
Thymum paftæ dulces rores,
Veru, properè, rotetur,
Delicate ut affetur.

Linteo fit mensa strata,
Cultri mundi, & acuti,
Acetaria fint parata,

Et cuncta, quæ fint apta uti;
Pofcæ parum, vini fatis,
Dii! prandebo cum beatis.

On his being expell'd a Lady's
Company: Spoken extempore.

THUS Adam look'd, when from the garden driven;

And, thus, difputed orders fent from beaven,
Like him I go, tho' to depart I'm leath;
Like bim I go, for angels drive us bab.

Hard

Hard was bis fate, but mine ftill more unkind, His Eve vent with him, but mine ftaid bebind.

On Printing.

LONG bad mankind with darkness been
opprefs'd,
[blefs'd:
And fearce one Petrarch nine whole cent'ries
The conquer'd world, and e'en imperial Rome,
O'erwhelm'd in ign'rance, shar'd an equal doom:
Vandals, and monks,enflam'dwith impious rage,
Drove, like a torrent, learning off the stage:
To native fkies religion flighted fled,
And bear'nly fcience veild ber blissful bead;
Myfterious jargon then devotion feem'd;
Greek, pious ideots herefy esteem'd ;
Yet Latin oft was read,---

---not understood;
For none but pray'rs in founds unknown were good.
When fome kind power (who now propitious smiles
With feet indulgence o'er Britannia's ifles,)
Expell'd around the gloomy Gothic night,
And chear'd theworld with dawning rays of light.
Infpir'd by bim, firft Fauft, fagacious mind!
The great difcovery open'd to mankind :
Rude characters on wooden tablets made,
And of the Printing-Art the bafis laid
Till fufile types invented by bis fkill,
With numerous tomes th' admiring nations fill.
Vaft bis attempts, immortal is his fame,
While Mentzreferves the great aufpicious name,
In spite of Harlem's, or of Strafburgh's claim.
Thence was the art transplanted to our coaft,
(Whofe generous fons ingenious Caxton boaft:)
Improv'd by various bands in ev'ry flage,
Till Aldus rofe, the genius of the age!
Firft, by bis care, bebold learn'd Greece arife,
And the thick mift remove from mortal eyes!
See her fam'd works in native luftre fhine!
See Athens once again the world refine!
While pleafing fcenes o'er Europe's realms ap-
pear,

And joys, uncommon, ev'ry mortal chear.
No more tranfcribers negligence is blam'd
For faulty Iliads, or a Tully maim`d.

No more did Horace, bard of fprightly fire!
Mourn ruder bands; or Bentley's wit require:
No more the fcholar, prefs'd by adverse fate,
Procures a Livy with his whole eftate.
Swift, o'er the world, learn'd volumes avere
diffus'd,

And thousand bibles for one mifial us’d:
Divine Eneids each museum grace,
While Plato's works affume a Scotus' place:
Each needy ftudent fhews his claffic flore,
And boafis fuch treasure kings fearce knew before.
Hail, Printing! bail thou thrice illuftrious
art!

Which clear'd the head, and which reform'd the beart,

Blefs'd with new light a fuperftitious age,
And purg'd the relicts of barbaric rage.
From thee celeftial fireams of learning flow,
And to thy pow'r sue pure religion owue,

By thee affifted, Luther lafb'd the crimes
Of Rome's vile clergy, and reform'd the times;
While off their rev'rend mask Erafmus drew;
And ev'ry pious fraud expos'd to view;
The labour finish'd, by thy friendly aid,
Which Hus and Wickliff long in vain assay'd,

But fee, ye learn'd! from far a genial ray
Dawn in the caft, and promife rifing day!
See, diftant climes, in this auspicious bout,
Receive with transport learning's fovereign
pow'r!

Behold this art in fam'd Bizantium rife,
And barb'rous fultans bail the mighty prize i
Higb it advances, o'er the mufti's rage,
Tho' priefts the ruin of their craft prefage.
O! would indulgent beav'n by this reftore
To eaftern lands the arts they left before:
By this make Turks their native rage forego,
And the vile frauds of Mecca's propbet fhow a
While Afia's realms enjoy a milder doom,
While Greece its Athens boafts, and Thraće
fecond Rome;

O'er diftant worlds while truth and freedom fhine
And confcious nations bless the art divine.

On Divine Poetry.

IF nothing but celeftial fire

Can the true poet's breaft infpire,
And if the mufe be beav'nly bornz'
A fubject fill be ought to chufe
As beav'nly as his facred mufe,

And make bis theme bis lines adorn
Ambitious Pegafus wou'd fy
In transport, wrapt above the sky;

But impious poets clip his wings:
Their groveling fancy dreads fuch heights,
They bafely check bis darling flights,

And force bim down to earthly things
Sublime the theme, fublime the lays,
When in the great Jehovah's praife

We happily our breath employ;
When bim who gave us breath we fing,
Such fonnets to his altar bring,

As vanquish'd death shall ne'er deftroys
What foame the facred mine to fee
Difgrac'd in Cupid's livery!

Stars far cut-fhine bright Cloe's eyes i
Their God the rofe and lilly speak,
And far excel the wanton's cheek;

Which foon like them too fades and dies.
No! Lord, thy works in folemn verfe
I most devoutly will rehearse:

Thou Spak' the word, and all obey'd
Let nature then in praife confpire,
All beings make one facred chair:

For bim all things, tubich are, were madez
Beneath the fubject angels faint,
Nor can their hymns bis glories paint,

Tho' they are plac'd so bigb above.
By us below are best exprest
Th ecftatic transport of the bleft,

When thee, dear Lord, we fing and love.

Sweet

Sweet Jefus come; my foul infpire,
And touch my lips with ballow'd fire;
Teach me thy wondrous love to praise :
May glory round my temples fhine,
And all my numbers, Lord, be thine;
Let bim who will enjoy the bays.
Thus, bappy in our facred mirth,
We may a beaven enjoy on earth;

Each liftning angel will rejoice:
And God bimfelf approve our Jong,
'Till we amidst th' angelic throng
With feraphs fall unite our voice.

A begging Epiftle in Rhime from a poor Poet.

SIR,

YOUR friendship I court

For a timely fupport;

My guts are grown wondrous limber :
My belly complains

Of the want of my brains,
Which us'd to fupply it with timber.
May I fwing like a dog
If I bave a hug,

A fmelt, a george, or a teafter:
But bere am I pent
To keep a fad Lent,

Without any hopes of an Eafter.
I've fent to my betters
Circular letters,
Of this my difmal condition:
But you, Sir, I'm fure
My diftemper will cure ;
Or a balter must be the phyfician.
'Tis the first time that 1,
E'er at rhyming did try:
In which if I had any skill ;
In a more elegant way,
As I ought I would fay,
Your obliged fervant Ra. Argill.
P.S. bope you'll excufe,
My unpolite mufe:
Did Bacchus my fancy inspira,
Addrefs you I wou'd,
In verfes as good,

As any of Pope or of Prior.

With thee, bright maid, for ever muft expire Each fofter bope, and elegant defire.

What tho' the busy world, to scandal prone, On thy fair name bave foul reproaches thrown! Think not, bright shade, that vulgar breath can

move

A foul like mine, inform'd with truth and love.
Let the mean cenfure blame the lover's part,
I bug the dear remembrance in my heart;
It firs the grateful ardour of my breast,
And all thy gen'rous kindness ftands confeft.
Ye ven'mous tongues that would profane my
fair,

With fcorn I give your malice to the air;
Love ftands the guardian of Ardelia's fame :
Love joins with beauty to affert my flame.

But ob! ye very few, who right can tell What vaft diftrefs I feel, who love fo well, Bring each bis cypress wreath, with me bemoan, The charming dear Ardelia dead and gone: So may your flames more lafting union prove, While my fad fhade bemoans my fhort-liv'd love.

Mr. AF's Letter to his
Curate at C --n verfified.

LEST curates proud should make a stir,
I will begin with Reverend Sir,
Without a compliment I fend
Thefe lines, to tell you I intend
To fend of flowers a basket down,
By Friday's coach to A---ford town,
To you directed at the Swan;
For which I'd have you fend your man
To fetch 'em Saturday by noon,
And plant them all before the moon.
Let all your care to this be given;
And pray for me to gracious beaven,
put them forward in their bloom,
When I to C-n fhall come.
Curates may rub the winter o'er:
I come at fpring, and not before.

To

Watch W----ks my fervant day by day, And fee be earns what I shall pay. Write every thing about my garden: I leave the church to the church-warden. Has N-- made his promife good, And gratis fetch'd my stock of wood? If be in this has kept his word, Say what the fort, bow cord? many If malt proves good, and cafks don't flink I hope you foon will brew my If the good malfter looks afkew, Pray tell him that for me you brew, And then perhaps be'll truft on you.

drink.

I wonder, and am much confounded, Since corn of late bas fo abounded, That all my tenants, griping clues, Should keep their money to themselves; When as they know their rent is due, And they may bave receipts from you. Pray travel up, and travel down,

And talk and vaunt, as t'were your own.

}

The

The tardy N--1--d ever teaze,
Nor let John H--1--r fleep in peace;
If fober admonition fail,
Put them in mind there is a jail.
When every due is duely pay'd,
And balance is to balance lay'd,
Forthwith to W---x repair,
'Twill do you good to take the air.
There Mr. H--k--r you may fee,
Receiver general is be.
The facred idol don't detain,

every

Nor with unhallow'd bands propbane ;
To him the weighty truft confign,
And bid him write a golden line;
For bundred pounds (ob! ob!)
Five fillings in return must go.
But let the bills that be fhall write
Be after date, not after fight:
Not after fight for tell me who
Would cafh it twice, when once will do?
If to yourself you have respect,
My intereft you'll not neglect. ·
If you in my behalf would flout it,
And write about it, and about it.
H----r from K--pf--n would defcend,
And N--1--d with his rent attend:
Then G--w--n would the call obey,
Nor whining P--p--r longer fay.

I then expect you fend me word,
Put under cover to my lord;
And when I fee in this you're true,
I'll find you fomething else to do.

Pray afk John H--1--r Sunday next,
And mind it, as you mind your text,
If Mrs. R--ge will bold the tythe
At the new rent of ninety five.
Perhaps he may not like the ground,
Because I've rais'd the odd five pound.
Tell him I foon would know her mind,
That if he be not well inclin'd,
I may fome other tenant find.

In all thefe premifes don't fail ye: As you're my curate, you're my bailey. Thus I appoint you my attorney, And am your fervant, R---F---.

The Milk-Maid.

IN the Sprightly month of May,
When all fmells fweet, and looks fo gay,
There tripp'd along a buxom lafs,
With a milk-pail o'er the grass;
On fhe went with nimble tread,
The pail food feady on ber bead;
Hoping fill to reach the town,
Ere that evening fun went down
And, for that reafon, to be freed
From whatfoe er delay'd ber speed,
One fingle petticoat fhe wore,
Half-way tuck'd up her leg before;
With low-beel'd fhoes, to go the quicker,
To trip the lefs, and fave her liquor.
And ibus fhe pafs'd, within ber thought,
She fancy'd all ber milk was bought;
The money bers, fhe feem'd intent
How to improve if cent. per cent.

w

She bought fame eggs, and fet a ben,
The chicks fhe batch'd, and fet again;
Already, in imagination,

Sb' bad chicks enough to stock the nation :
I can, faid fhe, or fure 'tis hard,
Bring up the chicks about our yard;
And harder ftill if fox and dog
Don't leave enough to buy a bog:
The bag will fure be fat, with eafe,
With half a dozen peck of peafe;
And then I'm very much mistaken,
If I'm a lofer by my bacon;

But when that's fold, it shan't be faid,
I let my money lie by dead;
I'd better than do fo by balf,
E'en buy me with't a cow and calf;
And with small coft I fhall be able
To feed them both in our own ftable:
Befides, 'twill pass a rainy day,
To fee the little wanton play;
To fee it run about and skip.
With that, by fympathy, jhe gave a
Doron comes the milk, and with it fall
Cow, calf, and bog, and eggs, and all;
She on the ground, with mournful eye,
Sees all her bopes of riches lie,
Her fortune fpilt, and all ber fcbemes
Turn'd but into waking dreams.

- In

leap;

nothing fo much joy we take, As to fit and dream awake. The flatt'ring error footbs our foul, And fill it roves without control. Thus be, whofe happy finger itches, Still to be fcraping up of riches, Can n'er express th' excess of pleasure, In brooding o'er a fancy'd treasure: Another, more inclin'd to love, Forms in bis mind a fhady grove; And, in that grove, fome grotto where He may enjoy bis charming fair; Already in bis fancy, traces All her nameless charms and graces; The fair indulges first a kiss, And then at laft a nobler blifs. Fancy, if thou fuch joys canft give, Ever fancying let me live; But 'tis not fo well with me, For when I'm alone and free, Ambition, tyrant of my days, In gaudy fhapes before me plays. Not many days are vanish'd fince I thought myself fome mighty prince: Methinks, jaid I, they chufe me king; The streets with acclamations ring, Whilft the bells from ev'ry steeple Proclaim my bonours to the people. And, to compleat this golden dream, I thought me firft in your esteem. But whilft, with jufteft moderation, I was ruling thus my nation, Some curfed noife, by accident, The prefent turn of thought unbent; And I remain'd, when this was o'er, The felf-fame thing I was before.

Tt2

The

Α

SATURDAY, Sept. 2.
T the Affizes at Bristol,
one Man was capitally
convicted, one burnt
in the Hand, and one

who affaulted a young Man with an Intent to commit Sodomy, was fin'd 2007. order'd to ftand in the Pillory, and to be imprifon'd for fix Months.

FRIDAY, 8.

This Day the three new Sloops built in Deptford Yard, to cruize on the Irish Coaft, were launched.

At a General Court of the S. S. Company, Sir John Eyles, the SubGovernor, acquainted them with the Steps in Relation to the Choice of the Committee for infpecting the Company's Accounts, and that of the faid Committee feveral Gentlemen had declined acting, and that not more than five had ever met, whereas by the Refolution of former Courts, feven were requifite to make a Quorum; on which a Motion being made for reducing the Quorum of the faid Committee from feven to five, and the fame being feconded, on the Queftion being put, it was agreed to. A Motion was then made, That it be the Request of the General Court, that the Committee do proceed upon Bufinefs, which Sir John and others defiring and preling for, fignifying that it would be a Satisfaction to the Gentlemen in the Direction, as well as the Proprictors

At the Seffions at the Old Bailey the 19 following Perfons receiv'd Sentence of Death, viz. Lewis de Vic (Brother to the Marquis de Vic) and Paul Cray (born of Irish Parents in France) both Officers in the French Service, for robbing Mr. Elton of a Diamond Ring, fome lac'd Cloaths, lac'd Houfing, and Holfters embroider'd with Gold, at Mr. Gibbon's Houfe in Suffolk ftreet, they lodging in the fame Houfe with Mr. Elton.

Jofeph Powis for a Burglary.-—-—-—---James Borthwick, for robbing Meff. Jefferies, Hair-Merchants on SnowHill, of Bank Notes and a confiderable Sum of Money.—Eliz. Pardo for robbing her Mistress of 61. in Money. Benj. Lowder, for fending a threatning Letter to Mr. Fairchild.

John Johnson, alias Drew, John Bumpos, William Shelton, Edward Perkins, and John Maggrady, for Robberies on the Highway. Peter

Bell, John Vaughan, Charles Patrick, Viner White, William Mead, and Wi!liam Flemming, (an Evidence but the aft Seffions, against one who was executed) for Street-Robberies.-- Fd

ward