Then holding the spectacles up to the courtYour lordship observes they are made with a straddle, As wide as the ridge of the Nose is; in short, Design'd to sit close to it, just like a saddle. Again, would your lordship a moment suppose ("Tis a case that has happen'd, and may be again) That the visage or countenance had not a Nose, Pray who would, or who could, wear spectacles then? On the whole it appears, and my argument shows, With a reasoning the court will never condemn, That the spectacles plainly were made for the Nose, And the Nose was as plainly intended for them. Then shifting his side, (as a lawyer knows how), So his lordship decreed with a grave solemn tone, Decisive and clear, without one if or but— That, whenever the Nose put his spectacles on, By daylight or candlelight-Eyes should be shut! ON THE 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 Discernment, eloquence, and grace The praise bestow'd was just and wise; So the best courser on the plain What all had deem'd his own. ODE TO PEACE. COME, peace of mind, delightful guest! Where wilt thou dwell, if not with me, For whom, alas! dost thou prepare The great, the gay, shall they partake The Heaven that thou alone canst make? And wilt thou quit the stream That murmurs through the dewy mead, The grove and the sequester'd shed, For thee I panted, thee I prized, Whate'er I loved before; And shall I see thee start away, And helpless, hopeless, hear thee say Farewell! we meet no more? HUMAN FRAILTY. WEAK and irresolute is man; The purpose of to-day, Woven with pains into his plan, To-morrow rends away. The bow well bent, and smart the spring, Vice seems already slain ; But Passion rudely snaps the string, And it revives again. Some foe to his upright intent Virtue engages his assent, But Pleasure wins his heart. 'Tis here the folly of the wise Through all his art we view; And, while his tongue the charge denies, His conscience owns it true. Bound on a voyage of awful length And dangers little known, A stranger to superior strength, Man vainly trusts his own. But oars alone can ne'er prevail The breath of Heaven must swell the sail, Or all the toil is lost. 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 Who constitutionally pulls Your house about your ears. Such civil broils are my delight, Though some folks can't endure them, Who say the mob are mad outright, A rope! I wish we patriots had Such strings for all who need 'emWhat! hang a man for going mad! Then farewell British freedom. |