"Ah!" said the sighing peer,

true,

"had Bute been

Nor M-'s R-'s, B-'s friendship vain,

Far better scenes than these had bless'd our view,

And realized the beauties which we feign:

"Purged by the sword, and purified by fire, Then had we seen proud London's hated walls;

Owls would have hooted in St. Peter s choir, And foxes stunk and litter'd in St. Paul's."

THE CANDIDATE:

OR, THE CAMBRIDGE COURTSHIP.

This tart lampoon was written a short time previous to the election of a high steward of the University of Cambridge, for which office the noble lord alluded to made an active canvass.

WHEN sly Jemmy Twitcher had smugg'd up his face,

With a lick of court white-wash, and pious grimace,

A wooing he went, where three sisters of old In harmless society guttle and scold.

"Lord! sister," says Physic to Law, "I declare,

Such a sheep-biting look, such a pick-pocket air!

Not I for the Indies:-You know I'm no prude, But his name is a shame, and his eyes are so lewd!

Then he shambles and straddles so oddly-I

fear

No-at our time of life 'twould be silly, my dear."

"I don't know," says Law, "but methinks for his look,

'Tis just like the picture in Rochester's book; Then his character, Phizzy,-his morals,-his life

When she died I can't tell, but he once had a wife.

They say he's no Christian, loves drinking and

W -g,

And all the town rings of his swearing and roaring!

His lying and filching, and Newgate-bird tricks;

Not I-for a coronet, chariot and six."

Divinity heard, between waking and dozing, Her sisters denying, and Jemmy proposing: From table she rose, and with bumper in hand, She strok'd up her belly; and strok'd down her band

"What a pother is here about wenching and roaring!

Why, David loved catches, and Solomon W- -g:

Did not Israel filch from the' Egyptians of old Their jewels of silver and jewels of gold?

The prophet of Bethel, we read, told a lie:
He drinks-so did Noah;-he swears-so do I:
To reject him for such peccadillos were odd;
Besides, he repents-for he talks about G**-
[To Jemmy]

Never hang down your head, you poor penitent elf,

Come buss me-I'll be Mrs. Twitcher myself."

Mr. Etough, of Cambridge University, the person satirized, was as remarkable for the eccentricities of his character as for his personal appearance.Mr. Tyson, of Bene't College, made an etching of his head, and presented it to Mr. Gray, who embellished it with the following lines. Mr. Etough was rector of Therlfield Herts, and of Colmworth, Bedfordshire.

THUS Tophet look'd: so grinn'd the brawling fiend,

Whilst frighted prelates bow'd and call'd him friend.

Our mother-church, with half-averted sight, Blush'd as she bless'd her grisly proselyte; Hosannas rung through hell's tremendous borders,

And Satan's self had thought of taking orders.

AMATORY LINES.

This jeu d'esprit first appeared in Warton's Edition of Pope.

WITH beauty, with pleasures surrounded, to languish

To weep without knowing the cause of anguish: To start from short slumbers, and wish for the morning

To close my dull eyes when I see it returning; Sighs sudden and frequent, looks ever dejected— Words that steal from my tongue, by no meaning connected!

Ah! say, fellow swains, how these symptoms befel me?

They smile, but reply not-Sure Delia will tell

me!

107

POEMATA.

HYMENEAL.

ON THE MARRIAGE OF HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS THE
PRINCE OF WALES.

Printed in the Cambridge Collection, 1736.

IGNARE nostrum mentes, et inertia corda, Dam curas regum, et sortem miseramur iniquam,

Quæ solio affixit, vetuitque calescere flamma Dulci, quæ dono divum, gratissima serpit Viscera per, mollesque animis lene implicat æstus;

Nec teneros sensus, Veneris nec præmia norunt, Eloquiumve oculi, aut facunda silentia linguæ:

Scilicet ignorant lacrymas, sævosque dolores, Dura rudimenta, et violentæ exordia flammæ; Scilicet ignorant, quæ flumine tinxit amaro Tela Venus, cæcique armamentaria Divi, Irasque, insidiasque, et tacitum sub pectore vulnus;

Namque sub ingressu, primoque in limine Amoris