As curious as the kittens erst had been
To learn what this phenomenon might mean
Filled with heroic ardour at the sight,
And fearing every moment he would bite,
And rob our household of our only cat

That was of age to combat with a rat,

With outstretched hoe I slew him at the door,
And taught him NEVER TO COME THERE NO MORE.
Aug. 1782.

TO A YOUNG LADY,

WITH A PRESENT OF TWO COCKSCOMBS.

MADAM,--Two Cockscombs wait at your command,
And, what is strange, both dressed by Nature's hand;
Like other fops they dread a hasty shower,

And beg a refuge in your closest bower;
Showy like them, like them they yield no fruit,
But then, to make amends, they both are mute.

ON THE LOSS OF THE ROYAL GEORGE.
WRITTEN WHEN THE NEWS ARRIVED.

To the march in " Scipio."

THE DISTRESSED TRAVELLERS;

OR, LABOUR IN VAIN.

A New Song to a Tune never sung before.

I.

I SING of a journey to Clifton

We would have performed if we could,
Without cart or barrow to lift on

Poor Mary and me through the mud.
Slee sla slud,

Stuck in the mud,

Oh it is pretty to wade through a flood!

2.

So away we went, slipping and sliding,
Hop, hop, à la mode de deux frogs,
'Tis near as good walking as riding,
When ladies are dressed in their clogs.
Wheels, no doubt,

Go briskly about,

But they clatter and rattle, and make such a rout!

3. SHE.

"Well! now I protest it is charming;
How finely the weather improves !
That cloud, though, is rather alarming,
How slowly and stately it moves!"

HE.

"Pshaw! never mind,

'Tis not in the wind,

We are travelling south and shall leave it behind.”

You'll not be the last that will set a foot there."

6. SHE.

"Let me breathe now a little, and ponder

On what it were better to do;

That terrible lane I see yonder,

I think we shall never get through."

HE.

"So think I :—

But, by the bye,

We never shall know, if we never should try."

7. SHE.

"But should we get there, how shall we get home? What a terrible deal of bad road we have past!

Slipping and sliding; and if we should come

To a difficult stile, I am ruined at last!

O this lane!

Now it is plain

That struggling and striving is labour in vain."

8. HE.

"Stick fast there while I go and look—”

SHE.

"Don't go away, for fear I should fall!"

HE.

"I have examined it every nook,

And what you have here is a sample of all.
Come, wheel round,

The dirt we have found

Would be an estate at a farthing a pound,"

9.

Now, sister Anne, the guitar you must take,
Set it, and sing it, and make it a song;
I have varied the verse for variety's sake,
And cut it off short-because it was long.
'Tis hobbling and lame,

Which critics won't blame,

For the sense and the sound, they say, should be the same.

IN BREVITATEM VITE SPATII HOMINIBUS

CONCESSI.

BY DR. JORTIN.

HEI mihi! Lege ratâ sol occidit atque resurgit,
Lunaque mutatæ reparat dispendia formæ,
Astraque, purpurei telis extincta diei,

Rursus nocte vigent. Humiles telluris alumni,
Graminis herba virens, et florum picta propago,
Quos crudelis hyems lethali tabe peredit,
Cum Zephyri vox blanda vocat, rediitque sereni
Temperies anni, fœcundo è cespite surgunt.
Nos domini rerum, nos, magna et pulchra minati,
Cum breve ver vitæ robustaque transiit ætas,
Deficimus; nec nos ordo revolubilis auras
Reddit in æthereas, tumuli neque claustra resolvit.

ON THE SHORTNESS OF HUMAN LIFE.

Jan. 1784.

TRANSLATION OF THE FOREGOING.

SUNS that set, and moons that wane,

Rise and are restored again;

Stars that orient day subdues,

Night at her return renews.

Herbs and flowers, the beauteous birth
Of the genial womb of earth,
Suffer but a transient death
From the winter's cruel breath.
Zephyr speaks; serener skies
Warm the glebe, and they arise.
We, alas! earth's haughty kings,
We, that promise mighty things,
Losing soon life's happy prime,
Droop, and fade, in little time.
Spring returns, but not our bloom;
Still 'tis winter in the tomb.