Miscellaneous Poems. THE YEARLY DISTRESS, OR TITHING TIME AT STOCK, IN ESSEX. Verses addressed to a country clergyman, complaining of the disagreeableness of the day annually appointed for receiving the dues at the parsonage. COME, ponder well, for 'tis no jest, The priest he merry is and blithe Three quarters of a year, For then the farmers come jog, jog, In sooth, the sorrow of such days Is not to be expressed, When he that takes and he that pays Now all unwelcome at his gates The clumsy swains alight, With rueful faces and bald pates He trembles at the sight. And well he may, for well he knows Will cheat him if he can. So in they come-each makes his leg, And looks as if he came to beg, "And how does miss and madam do, The little boy and all?" "All tight and well. And how do you, Good Mr. What-d'ye-call?" The dinner comes, and down they sit: One wipes his nose upon his sleeve, Yet not to give offence or grieve, Hold up the cloth before. The punch goes round, and they are dull They only weigh the heavier. At length the busy time begins. "Come, neighbours, we must wag—” The money chinks, down drop their chins, Each lugging out his bag. One talks of mildew and of frost, And one of storms of hail, Quoth one, "A rarer man than you You sell it plaguy dear." O why are farmers made so coarse, A kick, that scarce would move a horse, Thou art not voice alone, but hast beside Both neart and head; and couldst with music sweet Of Attic phrase and senatorial tone, Like thy renowned forefathers, far and wide Thy fame diffuse, praised not for utterance meet Of others' speech, but magic of thy own. LINES ADDRESSED TO DR. DARWIN, They best can judge a poet's worth, By labours of their own. We therefore, pleased, extol thy song, No envy mingles with our praise, They would they must at thine. But we in mutual bondage knit And deem the Bard, whoe'er he be, Who would not twine a wreath for Thee, ON MRS. MONTAGU'S FEATHER-HANGINGS. THE birds put off their every hue, The Peacock sends his heavenly dyes, Alluding to the poem by Mr. Hayley, which accompanied these lines. Where rises, and where sets the day, But, screened from every storm that blows, To the same patroness resort, She thus maintains divided sway VERSES Supposed to be written by Alexander Selkirk, during his solitary abode in the island of Juan Fernandez. I AM monarch of all I survey, My right there is none to dispute; From the centre all round to the sea, I am lord of the fowl and the brute. O solitude! where are the charms That sages have seen in thy face? Better dwell ir the midst of alarms, Than reign in this horrible place. I am out of humanity's reach, Society, friendship, and love, Divinely bestowed upon man, O, had I the wings of a dove, How soon would I taste you again! My sorrows I then might assuage In the ways of religion and truth, Might learn from the wisdom of age, And be cheered by the sallies of youth. Religion! what treasure untold Resides in that heavenly word! More precious than silver and gold, Or all that this earth can afford. But the sound of the church-going bell These valleys and rocks never heard, Never sighed at the sound of a knell, Or smiled when a sabbath appeared. Ye winds that have made me your sport, Of a land I shall visit no more. Though a friend I am never to see. How fleet is a glance of the mind! Compared with the speed of its flight, The tempest itself lags behind, And the swift winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there; But alas! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair. But the seafowl is gone to her nest, And I to my cabin repair. And reconciles man to his lot. Fair Science poured the light of truth, And Genius shed his rays. See! with united wonder cried Th' experienced and the sage, With all the skill of age! The praise bestowed was just and wise; So the best courser on the plain ODE TO PEACE. COME, peace of mind, delightful guest! Return, and make thy downy nest Once more in this sad heart: Nor riches I nor power pursue, Nor hold forbidden joys in view; We therefore need not part. Where wilt thou dwell, if not with me, And pleasure's fatal wiles? The banquet of thy smiles? The great, the gay, shall they partake To be a guest with them? For thee I panted, thee I prized, Whate'er I loved before; ON THE PROMOTION OF EDWARD THURLOW, ESQ. To the Lord High Chancellorship of England. ROUND Thurlow's head in early youth, And ir. his sportive days, 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, In vain, recorded in historic page, Vice seems already slain; But passion rudely snaps the string, Some foe to his upright intent Finds out his weaker part; '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, But oars alone can ne'er prevail, To reach the distant coast; The breath of heaven must swell the sail, Or all the toil is lost. THE MODERN PATRIOT. REBELLION is my theme all day; I only wish 't would come (As who knows but perhaps it may?) A little nearer home. Yon roaring boys, who rave and fight On t' other side th' Atlantic, I always held them in the right, But most so when most frantic. When lawless mobs insult the court, That man shall be my toast, The choicest flowers she bears, Your house about your ears. A rope! I wish we patriot had They court the notice of a future age: So when a child, as playful children use, REPORT OF AN ADJUDGED CASE, NOT TO BE FOUND IN ANY OF THE BOOKS. BETWEEN Nose and Eyes à strange contest arose, The spectacles set them unhappily wrong; The point in dispute was, as all the world knows, To which the said spectacles ought to belong. So Tongue was the lawyer, and argued the cause With a great deal of skill, and a wig full of learning; While chief baron Ear sat to balance the laws, So famed for his talent in nicely discerning. In behalf of the Nose it will quickly appear, And your lordship, he said, will undoubtedly find, That the Nose has had spectacles always to wear, Which amounts to possession time out of mind. 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, Again, would your lordship a moment suppose 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,) He pleaded again in behalf of the Eyes; But what were his arguments few people know, For the court did not think they were equally wise. ON OBSERVING SOME NAMES OF LITTLE NOTE RE- So his lordship decreed with a grave solemn tone, CORDED IN THE BIOGRAPHIA BRITANNICA. OH, fond attempt to give a deathless lot To rames ignoble, born to be forgot! Decisive and clear, without one if or butThat, whenever the Nose put his spectacles on, By daylight or candlelight-Eyes should be shut! ON THE BURNING OF LORD MANSFIELD'S LIBRARY, TOGETHER WITH HIS MSS., By the mob, in the month of June, 1780. So then the Vandals of our isle, And MURRAY sighs o'er Pope and Swift, Their pages mangled, burnt and torn, The loss was his alone; ON THE SAME. WHEN wit and genius meet their doom In all devouring flame, They tell us of the fate of Rome, And bid us fear the same. O'er MURRAY's loss the Muses wept, There Memory, like the bee, that's fed The quintessence of all he read The lawless herd, with fury blind, Have done him cruel wrong; The flowers are gone-but still we find The honey on his tongue. THE LOVE OF THE WORLD REPROVED; OR HYPOCRISY DETECTED.* THUS says the prophet of the Turk, It may be proper to inform the reader, that this piece has already appeared in print, having found its way, though with some unnecessary additions by an unknown hand, into the Leeds Journal without the author's privity. May taste, what'er his inclination, He meant not to forbid the head; You laugh-'tis well.-The tale applied Some love a concert, or a race; ON THE DEATH OF MRS. (NOW LADY) THROCKMORTON'S BULFINCH. Where Rhenus strays his vines among, Or only with a whistle blest, The honours of his ebon poll With which Aurora decks the skies, |