Geo. Ah! no: impassive Dulness shall protect

him:

He has no dang'rous particle of sense,
But all is solid-shillings, pounds, and pence.
'Tis not in pious Nicholas to think;
Suffice it, that he uses pens and ink,
To calculate with nicety the sum

Of new imposts and taxes yet to come.

Ami. What will they do with Ryder, let me ask? "An oracle within an empty cask!"

"For had I stuck fast to my Doctor's degree,
(That I did'nt 'tis well, though it certainly odd is!)
The king's loyal subjects might still have been free,
I ne'er had imprison'd, but physic'd their bodies;

"That His Highness, a man both of wit and of letters, (Which between you and I, are but rarish commodities)! Should raise us so high o'er the heads of our betters, Is strange, Mrs. Vansittart, I vow to God it is!"

Mrs. Van having heard Mrs. Sidmouth's oration,
Gave her mouth a wise screw, turn'd her eyes in their
sockets,

Just as when she harangues on the state of the nation,
Or makes some financial attempt on our pockets.

"The reason quite plain without all this parade is,
So truce, Madam Sid, to your logical fuss;
As the Prince has so great a penchant for Old Ladies!
No wonder he's grown rather partial to us!"

He rises, with the awful subject big,

And shakes the powder'd honours of his wig;
He speaks; ;—a mute attention fills the House,
The mountain is deliver'd of its mouse.

Geo. He, p'rhaps may prove of service to the state,

In matters of small consequence and weight;
To make an act to walk the parish bounds,
And see that sleepy watchmen go their rounds;
Or, with a face most ludicrously stern,
To move-the yawning house do now adjourn.

Ami. But hast thou (pray excuse the thing I mention,)

No small reversion, sinecure, or pension,

No secret bribe to make retirement sweet?Come, say how much might purchase thy retreat?

Geo. For neither pension, sinecure, nor bribe, Am I indebted to the courtly tribe.

Was it for this I brav'd the party-storm,

And silenc'd the loud Demon of Reform,

That fierce assail'd me with its thousand tongues,
And brazen forehead, and stentorian lungs?
Was it for this, I made a glorious stand,
And gave corruption both my heart and hand?

Ungrateful Party !-in declining age

To hiss a hoary vet'ran off the stage.

Ami. Mourn not, my Friend, thy public life is

o'er,

There's nothing left behind thee to deplore;
For what is pow'r, but trouble, care, and pain?
Hard to acquire, uneasy to retain.

O! fly from court, to nature's rural scenes,
To patient drudges leave the ways and means;
There health is borne on ev'ry breeze that blows,
There murm'ring streams shall lull thee to repose.

Geo. What fancied scenes of happiness you trace, Strange comfort for a statesman out of place! Who, by no oaths political confin'd, Dare, (mirabile dictu !) speak his mind. Are hills, and dales, and valleys, half so gay As bright St. James's on a Levee day? What fierce extatic transports fill my soul, To hear the drivers swear, the coaches roll; The courtiers compliment, the ladies clack, The satins rustle, and the whalebones crack! What! shall a fallen Minister regale

On slices of brown bread, and homebrew'd ale ?Lay his opinion open to rebuke,

And please a Boor-when he might charm a Duke?

And, O! the greatest nuisance in the land, Shall squire and vicar shake him by the hand, Or bellowing huntsman, follow'd by his pack, With hearty thump salute him on the back?— No, let me rather live to see the day,

That joins me to the politics of Grey,-
Adopt mad schemes by restless Tierney plann'd,
Or, all unnotic'd, at a Levee stand.—

Let me the words of blust'ring Fuller quote,
Or to that puppy Holland give my vote
To calculate the ex-officio fibs

Of my old worthy friend, Sir Vicary Gibbs !
Or, once for all, in winding up the sum
Of evils present, past, and yet to come,
O, let me be proclaim'd, by Hawkers loud,
Political Jack-Pudding of the crowd.

Ami. Since you're resolv'd, I have no more to say, But banish care and sorrow for a day; Some disappointment* cross'd the Regent's mind, The Queen look'd grave, or Hertford prov'd unkind; But let the worst arrive; now, pray consider, You can but truckle to the highest bidder.

* This conjecture is reasonable: it is not uncommon to see "Cœlestibus iræ,"-Anger in heavenly minds.

ECLOGUE IV.

CRAMBO.

'Twas in that glorious season of the year, When leaves are green, and op'ning buds appear, When tuneful songsters ply the feather'd wing, And Nature welcomes the return of Spring; 'Twas in that month, when urchins, loos'd from school,

Make (fond of mischief,) many an April Fool, And to some crabbed dame, demurely cry"Your stocking's down, your cap is pinn'd awry!" 'Twas in that season, when the God of Day Once more resumes his renovating sway, When soft the rivers glide, the zephyrs blow, And farmers see their future harvests grow.

*Two prowling Bailiffs, hunting after prey,
Thro' ancient Grub Street sped their cautious way,
When, just at dawn, with joyful hearts they found
The tuneful Crambo prostrate on the ground.

Chromis et Mnasilus in antro

Silenum pueri somno vidère jacentum, &c. &c.