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The rank is but the guinea's stamp,
The man's the gowd for a' that.*

Is there for Honest Poverty.
A prince can make a belted knight,

A marquis, duke, and a’ that;
But an honest man's aboon his might,
Guid faith, he maunna fa’ that.

Ibid.

But to see her was to love her,
Love but her, and love for ever. Song. Ae Ford Kiss.

Had we never loved sae kindly,
Had we never loved sae blindly,
Never met or never parted,
We had ne'er been broken-hearted.

Ibid.

O, my love's like a red, red rose,

That’s newly sprung in June,
O, my love's like the melodie,
That's sweetly played in tune.

Song. A Red, Red Rose. Gars auld claes look amaist as weel's the new.

The Cottar's Saturday Night. Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the evening gale.

Ibid.

He wales a portion with judicious care ;
And ‘ Let us worship God !' he says, with solemn air.

Ibid.

6

* I weigh the man, not his title; 't is not the king's stamp can make the metal better.--WYCHERLEY. The Plaindealer. Act i. Sc. i.

GEORGE COLMAN, THE YOUNGER.

1762-1836.

ON

N their own merits modest men are dumb.

Broad Grins. Epilogue to the Heir at Law. And what's impossible can't be, And never, never comes to pass. The Maid of the Moor.

Three stories high, long, dull, and old,
As great lord's stories often are.

Ibid.

But when ill indeed,
E’en dismissing the doctor don't always succeed.

Lodgings for Single Gentlemen.
When taken,
To be well shaken.

The Newcastle Apothecary.

Like two single gentlemen, rolled into one.

Ibid.

Thank you, good sir, I owe you one. .

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O Miss Bailey, Unfortunate Miss Bailey !

Love Laughs at Locksmiths. Act ii. Song.

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DICKINSON-MOSS--TOWNLEY.

265

JOHN DICKINSON. 1732-1808.

THEN join in hand, brave Americans all ;

By uniting we stand, by dividing we fall.

The Liberty Song. (1768.)

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PITY

ITY the sorrows of a

poor
old

man,
Whose trembling limbs have borne him to your

door, Whose days are dwindled to the shortest span ; Oh! give relief, and Heaven will bless your store.

The Beggar.

JAMES TOWNLEY. 1778.

Kitty. SHIKSP

HIKSPUR? Shikspur? Who wrote it?

No, I never read Shikspur. Lady Bab. Then you have an immense pleasure to

High Life below Stairs. Act ii. Sc. 1.

come.

From humble Port to imperial Tokay.

loid.

266

MALLETT-BRYDGES-CANNING.

DAVID MALLETT. 1700-1765.

WHILE tumbling down the turbid

stream, Lord love us, how we apples swim. Tyburn.

SIR SAMUEL EGERTON BRYDGES. 1763-1837.

THE glory dies not, and the grief is past. *

Sonnet on the Death of Sir Walter Scott.

THOMAS MORTON. 1766-1838.

WHAT
THAT will Mrs. Grundy say?

Speed the Plough. Acti. Sc. I. Push on-keep moving.

A Cure for the Heartache. Act i. Sc. 1. Approbation from Sir Hubert Stanley is praise indeed.

Ibid. Act v. Sc. 2.

GEORGE CANNING. 1770-1827.

STOR

TORY! God bless you, I have none to tell, sir !

! , ! The Friend of Humanity and the Needy Knife-Grinder.

From the Poetry of the Anti-Jacobin. I give thee sixpence! I will see thee d

-d first. Ibid.

• But of the deed the glory shall remain.—GRIMOALDE. (Circa 15201563. Musonius the Philosopher's Saying.

HOPKINSON-EVERETT.

267

But of all plagues, good Heaven, thy wrath can send, Save, save, oh, save me from the candid friend !

New Morality. From the Poetry of the Anti-Jacobin.

So down thy hill, romantic Ashbourne, glides
'The Derby dilly carrying three insides.*

The Loves of the Triangles. Line 178.
From the Poetry of the Anti-Jacobin.

JOSEPH HOPKINSON. 1770-1842.

HAIL, Columbia ! happy land !

Hail, ye heroes ! heaven-born band !
Who fought and died in freedom's cause.

Hail Columbia.

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YOU'D

TOU'D scarce expect one of my age

To speak in public on the stage ;
And if I chance to fall below
Demosthenes or Cicero,
Don't view me with a critic's eye,
But pass my imperfections by.
Large streams from little fountains flow,
Tall oaks from little acorns grow.

Lines written for a School Declamatim.

* These lines are ascribed to John Hookham Frere in Chambers's Cyclopædia of English Literature, vol. ii. p. 325.

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