THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OE CALIEORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES

 
 V/. C. D-0La' DPf 'l.S'Q^
 
 POEMS, 
 
 CHIEFLY 
 
 COMIC AND HUDIBRASTIC : 
 
 CONTAINING 
 
 BURLESQUE TRANSLATIONS, 
 
 DRAMATIC PIECES, 
 
 AND 
 
 MISCELLANIES, 
 
 By W. C. OULTON, 
 
 AUTHOR OF ALL IN GOOD HUMOVU, BOTUEUATION, 
 THE SIXTY-THIRD LETTER, &C, 
 
 LONDON: 
 PRINTED FOR C. CHAPPLE, 
 
 66, PALL-MALt. 
 
 1810.
 
 Harping and Wright, Printers, St. John's-square, London.
 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 SOME apology may be thought necessary for 
 obtruding upon the public these Miscellanies^ par- 
 ticularly as the greater part w^re juvenile com- 
 positions Let the truth be that apology. The 
 author having seen several of his poetical trifles 
 ascribed in recent publications to other writers^, 
 he waSj consequently^ induced to collect and avow 
 those in his possession^ that^ vt'hatever praise or 
 censure might follow^ should be attributed to tha 
 Ir'gal muse. To urge any thing further in their de- 
 fence would be gross presumption; to appear 
 
 85S"u^:y'!
 
 wholly indifferent about them, mere affectation. 
 He, therefore, patiently waits the verdict of the pub- 
 lic, assured of having a fair trial : his Judges 
 (the Rei'iezcers) will, no doubt, sum up the case 
 with candor and impartiality but the Jury (his 
 unbiassed Readers) can alone, thanks to our 
 Constitution !, acquit or condemn.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 BURLESQUE TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Ajax and Ulysses (from Ovid), 1 
 
 Discontent (from Horace), _ 34 
 
 DRAMATIC PIECES, ADDRESSES, &c. 
 
 The Fortunate Tars, a Burletta, ....4i 
 
 The Farthing Rushlight ; or. Sir Solomon's Wedding, a 
 
 Medley, 54 
 
 Woman's Seven Ages ; or. Belles, have at you all, 73 
 
 Song on the same Subject,. ._ 34 
 
 Occasional Address, spoken in Dublin, 89 
 
 The Royal Procession ; or, a Peep from Ludgate-Hill, 9%^ 
 
 Occasional Address, spoken at Birmingham, 96 
 
 Anothefj ._ .--.., ..-.. 9S
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Occasional Address, (for a Private Theatre, ) 99 
 
 Another,XDo.) - 101 
 
 Another, spoken at the Lyceum by Miss Cartwright, 103 
 
 Another, 104 
 
 Another, (for a Private Theatre,) 107 
 
 Another, (Do. on Lord Nelson's Victory,) 108 
 
 Looney Macwaulter's Description of the Illuminations, 
 
 Song, (sung by Mr. Johnstone,) 112 
 
 Welcome Peace ; or, a Squeeze at the Illuminations, ....ib. 
 
 Bi ilish Patriotism ; or, Who's Afraid ? 116 
 
 Song, (sung by Mr. Trueman,) 121 
 
 Another, (sung by Mr. Suett,) 122 
 
 An Irish Song, (sung by Miss Cartwright,) 123 
 
 Another, (Do.) 125 
 
 Mrs. O'Flaherty's Opinion of a Macaroni, 127 
 
 Thady's Encomiums on Whiskey, 129 
 
 Love, an Air Balloon, 131 
 
 O'Blarney's the Dandy-o, 132 
 
 The Irishman's Visit to the Invisible-Girl, 135 
 
 Pat Casey's Sweethearts, -. .-. -136 
 
 Life, a Pack of Cards, 138 
 
 Matrimony, . -.-- -.139 
 
 l^arry's Siipp'ication, - .--- 141 
 
 All Irish Suii^, 144 
 
 Peg of Cranbourne- Alley, 145 
 
 The Tight Irish Lad, 146 
 
 The Fan, .147 
 
 Pat's Remarks on the threatened Invasion, ..- 148
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 MISCELLANIES. 
 
 Lingo to Cowslip, a Poetic Epistle, ............... 15S 
 
 Tea ue's Misfortune, a Tale, 158 
 
 The Thumb and Little.Finger, a Fable, 162 
 
 The World's Gifts, 365 
 
 Night Thoughts, 166 
 
 Sylvester Daggerwood' s Soliloquy, ._. 169 
 
 Modern Poetry, 170 
 
 Meditation, _ -171 
 
 Hints for Ladies, . 173 
 
 Hints for Gentlemen, .. 174 
 
 A Female Character, . ..176 
 
 George Barker ; or, the Tooth-Drawer ; a Tale, 178 
 
 Fashion, 179 
 
 Influence of Fashion, . 181 
 
 Ancient and Modern Fashions, . .183 
 
 Applications, .._. 186 
 
 The Naval Pillar, 187 
 
 Modern Wit, 189 
 
 Compliments, . 191 
 
 The Tongue, 195 
 
 Nobody, 1S6 
 
 ALessonfor Old Maids, 198 
 
 Wishers, 203 
 
 A Pinch ofSnuff, 204 
 
 A New Translation of Simplex MundiliiSj 206
 
 ERRATA. 
 
 Page 5, line 11 from the top for arms read armour^ 
 
 Page 10, line 7 from the top for xsere read isert. 
 
 Page 21, line 7, from the bottom for resorted read re, 
 
 ported (i. e. talked of famed.) 
 Page 23, line 2 from the bottom for all zohom read all '/ 
 
 uhom. 
 Page 37, line 6 from the bottom the article (a) should 
 
 have been transposed, or the words sufficient 
 
 and little but the line will read more harmoni. 
 
 ously thus ; 
 
 If little can sufficient give. 
 Page 59, line 6 from the top for Jervi read Jervis, 
 Page 76, line 9 from the top for love read dove. 
 Page 83, line 10 from the top for zcas I, read I proved. 
 line 16 from the top for dangers read danger. 
 Page 84, line 3 from the top ioT fame read name. 
 Page 193, line 2 from the top the words " as pithy" being 
 
 used ironically, should have been in italics, in 
 
 order to be read so.
 
 BURLESQUE TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 AJAX AND ULYSSES : 
 
 BEING A BURLESQUE TRANSLATION OF THE FIRST 
 FABLE OF THE THIRTEENTH BOOK OF OVId's META- 
 MORPHOSES. 
 
 The judges sat, with looks profound, 
 The ragamuffins throng'd around 
 When Ajax, of the sev'n-fold shield, 
 The first, up-started, in the field. 
 Then with a grim and hellish view, 
 (His rage unable to subdue) 
 All the Sigean shores espied. 
 And, with his arras extended, cried : 
 '' O Jove ! thou ruler of the sky, 
 Before thy fleet our cause we try. 
 Do you compare to me Ulysses ? 
 What ! such a nincompoop as this is, 
 Who yielded to the flames of Hector ; 
 Which 1 great Ajax your protector. 
 With speed and courage ran to meet. 
 And drove them from our Grecian fleet ? 
 
 B
 
 AJAX AND ULYSSES. 
 
 Which is it safer, to contend 
 With ^ne orations, like my friend ; 
 Or try our strength, as war commands, 
 And trust not to the ton^e, but hands ? 
 For me, how hard to tell ea.ch fact 
 And for that coxcomb, there, ^to act ! 
 As in the field, I'd him engage. 
 So he'd out-talk me on the stage : 
 My great exploits, why need I tell, 
 Which, Grecians, you remember well ? 
 Your eyes have mark'd what I've achiev'd. 
 Since seen, they then must be believed. 
 What witnesses, tho', has my rival ? 
 Who doth, at night, it seems, ccmtrive all. 
 What witnesses ! Alas ! Sirs, none, 
 Except the stars and moon alone. 
 Great is the prize I must confess- 
 But then my rival makes it less. 
 For, tho' so great, where is my pride 
 To try for what Ulysses tried ? 
 E'en if obtain'd where is ray fame, 
 When he, vain man ! puts in a claim ? 
 He bears the price of this contention ; 
 For, when he's conquer'd all will mention^ 
 He had the honour as 'twill be 
 The honour to have vied with ijie.
 
 aJAX AWD trtYSBES. 5 
 
 Suppose, by deeds, I'd chance to fail, 
 My birth must certainly prevail. , ,, 
 There, with my rival, I'd contendj ' 
 
 For I, from T^lamon, descend ; 
 Who did, with Hercules, destroy 
 The mighty walls of ruin'd Troy. 
 His father, ^Eacus, they tell. 
 Appointed laws for those in hell ; 
 Where a fof-ever-roUing stone, 
 Makes Sisyphus to sweat and groan. 
 Jove has this iEacus avow'd 
 To be his son : ^this, then allow'd, 
 You have e'en Jupiter's own word. 
 From that Itomortal I'm the third. 
 .;'^4^ But rather useless, in this case, 
 Is a tnere series of our race . 
 <i?Twou'd hot avail a crooked pm, 
 If to A'ehfiles not a-kin ; 
 My cousin-germail was the same, 
 My cousin's arms I therefore claim. 
 Why doth that rogue that artful man, 
 (Whose race from Sisyphus began) 
 'Pon the iEacidae impose 
 The names of people no one knows ? 
 Am I Achilles' arms denied. 
 Because a knave I can't abide ?
 
 AJAX AVn T7LTS8E1. 
 
 Shall he those arras be thought to merit, 
 Who took them last with little spirit ? 
 Who, with his fears, so overpower'd, 
 Pretended madness, like a coward : 
 T 11 Palamede, more cumiing than 
 Ulysses ev'n that cunning man ; 
 Tho' afterwards he dearly pay'd. 
 For having greater skill display'd : 
 Till he, I say, the cheat disclos'd, 
 And the detected knave expos'd : 
 He forc'd him then his arms to wield, 
 To go, reluctant, to the field. 
 We'l, let this rival, who, you find. 
 Would, lately, have all arms declined, 
 Be now presented with the best 
 Achilles' arras in request 
 Let rae, who've greater dangers fac'd, 
 Be now abandon 'd now disgrac'd ; 
 Be of my cousin's gifts debarr'd, 
 And left to mourn my fate so hard. 
 Oh, that his madness had been true ! 
 Or, so iraagin'd, Sirs, by you : 
 That he had still remain'd at home, 
 And ne'er with us to Phrygia come. 
 Then Lemnos, Philoctetes' place 
 Had never been, to our disgrace ;
 
 AJAX AND ULYSSES. 
 
 Where, as report has since reveal'd, 
 While among woods and caves conceal'd, 
 With shrill and miserable groans, 
 He penetrates the hardest stones, 
 And wishes thr e, Laertes' son ! 
 The just reward of all thou'st done. 
 Oh, may the Gods then be propitious ! 
 Oh, may they bring to pass his wishes ! 
 One of .our leaders, sad, forlorn, 
 Who was with us to battle sworn : 
 Now Hercules's arms bears, 
 And, justly, as successor wears ; 
 Opprest by sickness, want of bread, 
 He's cover'd by the birds, and fed. 
 Those arms, once levell'd against Troy, 
 In killing fowl doth he employ. 
 He lives, uideed ; the reason, this is. 
 He did not come here with Ulysses ; 
 And blest would Palamede Have been. 
 Had he this fellow never seen : 
 Yes ; living, now, with his relations, 
 Or not have died through accusations. 
 For, recollect. Sirs, that, as soon as he 
 Made known this man's pretended lunacy, 
 Ulysses swore, that he betray 'd 
 The Grecian interest ; and made, 
 Seemingly, good, the charge he laid.
 
 AJAX AND ULYSSES. 
 
 Yes, Sirs, he show'd you all the store, 
 Which, in the ground, he hid before ; 
 By banishment, or death, at length. 
 He has depriv'd you of some strength. 
 Thus brave Ulysses fights ;- and, thus. 
 He must be dreaded, too, by us. 
 Tho' he excel, (a thing immense !) 
 Just Nestor, in his eloquence ; 
 His rhetoric can ne'er defend 
 The base desertion of his friend : 
 For Nestor, Sirs, implor'd his aid, 
 When hoary age his flight delay'd ; 
 When, weaken'd by a dang'rous wound, 
 His steed mov'd slowly on the ground : 
 But he, in whom he then confided, 
 Forsook his friend, thus unprovided. 
 Tydides, there, knows very well. 
 They are not stories which I tell. 
 He, oft, has cjtll'd the coward, he 
 Has told him, 'twas a shame to flee. 
 The deities, above us, view, 
 With righteous eyes, whate'er we do ; 
 And he, who succour has denied, 
 In vain for succour has applied : 
 Yes, as another he had left, 
 He, of assistance, is bereft ;
 
 AJAX AND ULYSSES. 
 
 The law he for himself decreed, 
 
 And was forsaken when in need. 
 
 I found him pale, opprest, downcast, 
 
 In dread each hour would be his last ; 
 
 My buckler, therefore, I spread oyer him, 
 
 And, thus, poor man ! did I recover him ; 
 
 Thus sav'd his life, prolong'd his days : 
 
 'Tis the least part, tho', of my praise. 
 
 If, for contention still inclin'd, 
 
 Come, and this very place let's find ; 
 
 Be wounded, as you were before ; 
 
 The Trojan enemy restore ; 
 
 Let all your fear return again. 
 
 And couch behind my buckler, then : 
 
 Behind my buckler and, while there, 
 
 With me contend, Sir, if you dare ! 
 
 When I preserv'd his life ; each wound 
 
 Scarce gave him power to tread the ground ; 
 
 Yet, quick he fled, was out of sight, 
 
 For wounds retarded not his flight. 
 
 Now Hector came t' assist the war : 
 
 The din of arms was heard afar ; 
 
 With visage terrible, he spread 
 
 A general and contagious dread. 
 
 'Tis not Ulysses only shook 
 
 The bravest trembled at his look.
 
 AJAX AND ULYSSES. 
 
 This mighty warrior, enrag'd, 
 In combat close, I now engag'd ; ^ 
 
 His strength, and all his arms withstood, 
 While triumphing in Grecian blood. 
 At length, with a prodigious stone, 
 Great Hector on his back was thrown. 
 'Twas I, this Trojan lion fought, 
 While he, to fight the bravest sought. 
 You, Grecians, pray'd, 1 might succeed ; 
 And as you pray'd, it was indeed. 
 If this success you may forget, 
 Remember, Sirs, 1 was not beat. 
 With flames and arms the Trojans meet, 
 And Jupiter, against our fleet. 
 What of Ulysses, at this time ? 
 What of his eloquence sublime ? 
 I, with my single valour, cover 
 Innumerable ships all over 
 The j^pe of your return. And, now, 
 '] , Grecians, trust, you will allow, 
 For services, so truly brave, 
 Achilles' arms 1 ought to have : 
 By these my services, I've won them, 
 And shall confer an honour on them. 
 Indeed, if I must speak my mind, 
 A greater honour they will find 
 Than I -. Be then our glory join'd !
 
 AJAX and ULYSSES. 
 
 They seek by me to be supported, 
 And not by Ajax are they courted ; 
 Let then Ulysses, if he dare, 
 His valour now with mine compare ; 
 Let him of Rhesus speak anon, 
 Of Dolon, a mere simpleton ! 
 Of the Palladium that was seiz'd ; 
 But where the courage to be prais'd ? 
 Nothing was carried on by day, 
 And nothing, Diomede away. 
 If you such services regard. 
 And for the same, these arms award ; 
 Pray give not all, it is unfair, 
 , For Diomede should have a share. 
 Why to this man shou'd they be giv'n, 
 Who nought does by the light of heav'n ? 
 Who by his treachery has harm'd 
 Th' unwary foe that is unarm'd ? 
 Surely the helmet in the night, 
 Which shines with gold so very bright, 
 Will bring his den and plots to light. 
 And as it is immensely great. 
 His head can ne'er support the weight ; 
 His feeble arms can never bear, 
 I'm sure, ^the pond'rous Pelian spear, 
 
 V
 
 10 AJAX AND ULTS8E8. 
 
 He's such a coward in the field, 
 
 His left hand never, Sirs, can wield 
 
 That beautiful and world-like shield. 
 
 Good heav'n ! the insolent demands 
 
 A gift to weaken both his hands ; 
 
 If, thro' some strange mfetuation, 
 
 Thou were to get this great donation ; 
 
 We might expect, and with good reason, 
 
 Some thief, the precious arms would seize on, 
 
 For none wou'd fear thee, tho' with these on. 
 
 Thou'dst be in a most piteous scrape, 
 
 For where the hope of thy escape ? 
 
 Thy flight, (for tliou canst run I know,) 
 
 Would then undoubtedly be slow 
 
 With such a load ; add, dastard soul ! 
 
 Thy shield, so seldom us'd, is whole ; 
 
 But mine a new successor lacks, 
 
 Behold ! it has a thousand cracks. 
 
 Why trifle time with idle prate ? 
 
 Our actions only you should rate. 
 
 And not our words, thus then decide. 
 
 And let our courage now be tried ; 
 
 Yes, throw the arms of brave Achilles, 
 
 'Mong enemies prepar'd to kill us ; 
 
 Command them forthwith to be sought, 
 
 Dress him, that brings them, in them brought."
 
 AJAX AND ULYSSES. 11 
 
 Thus Ajax spoke, ^what shouts of praise ! 
 The place resounded with huzzas. 
 Next started up Ulysses wise, 
 First fixing on the ground his eyes, 
 Then looking up with heaving sighs ; 
 His action with his speech agreed, 
 He paus'd, ^but not for words indeed : 
 Oh no, a fluency had he. 
 And always spoke extempore. 
 Thus he began : 
 
 % *' Had prayers succeeded, 
 These arras wou'd now no heir have needed ; 
 They still wou'd have their brave Achilles, 
 Whose presence with delight wou'd fill us ; 
 But since, alas ! we've lost our guide. 
 Since death, that tyrant, has denied" 
 (To wipe away the tears of grief, 
 He now applied his handkerchief), 
 " Denied our pray'rs, make me the heir 
 Of what I made Achilles bear 
 Let not the numskull, Ajax, pocket 
 Your favour. Sirs, because a block-head 1 
 Nor let it, pray you, injure rae, 
 That I'm a wiser man than he, 
 My eloquence has serv'd you all, 
 Then wby should envy, full of gall^ 
 c2
 
 If AJAX AND ULYSSES. 
 
 Depreciate this, my chief ability, 
 To me, to you, of great utility ? 
 Shall I for the first time be sorry, 
 I ever spoke or plotted for you. 
 That I have wit, I'll not disown ; 
 The gift, thank heav'n, is all my own. 
 What use a list of kindred giving, 
 Their feats are none of our acheiving ; 
 Why talk then of forefathers thus ? 
 What's their performances to us ? 
 But since my rival said absurds 
 He was from Jupiter the third, 
 The founder of our blood is he, 
 And that. Sirs, in the same degree. 
 You know my father is Laertes, 
 
 Arcesius, also, 1 assert, his ; 
 
 He, son of Jupiter above, 
 
 My great-grandfather then is Jove. 
 
 And none of these bore names so vile, 
 
 As malefactor, and exile ! 
 
 Add Mercury, who by my mother. 
 
 Is of our pedigree another. 
 
 A God in both my parents' race : 
 
 But not for tliis, I seek your grace ! 
 
 Tho' nobly born. Sirs, by my mother, 
 
 A father too, who kill'd no brother ;
 
 AJAX AND ULYSSES. 13 
 
 Hence with relations ! what can they for us ? 
 
 'Tis merit only that can favour us. 
 
 Why should my rival hope to win, 
 
 'Cause Telaraon, is Peleus' kin ? 
 
 Our services, not pedigree, 
 
 Shou'd subjects of enquiry be : 
 
 But if relationship be sought, 
 
 Achilles' father must be brought ; 
 
 Yes, and his son, and also Pyrrhus, 
 
 Why, before them, shou'd you prefer us ? " 
 
 Take then the valuable prize 
 
 To Phthia, Scyros, I advise. 
 
 Now Ajax, where for you the room ? 
 
 T' obtain these arras can you presume ? 
 
 Why, let me tell you, there is Teucer, 
 
 Achilles' cousin, more than you, Sir. 
 
 What vanity, what want of sense. 
 
 To hope this prize to carry hence ! 
 
 Since this dispute depends, alone, 
 
 On actions, to be here made known ; 
 
 1 have accomplish'd more, indeed. 
 
 Than I can tell, but to proceed : 
 
 The tender Thetis, who foreknew 
 
 The loss, which now, alas ! we rue. 
 
 With natural, maternal love, 
 
 T' avert the dire misfortune strove.
 
 14 AJAX AND ULYSSES. 
 
 She wished to keep at home her son. 
 And made him petticoats put on ; 
 Thus, as a Miss Achilles passes, 
 He's left to play with real lasses : 
 Strange project f scarce to be believ'd ; 
 And which ev'n Ajax' eyes deceiv'd. 
 But I the happy means devis'd. 
 For ascertaining the disguis'd : 
 With female trinkets, such as rings, 
 Dolls and the like, I mix'd those things. 
 Which lads of spirit would delight in ; 
 1 mean, some instruments for fighting. 
 Thus I succeeded, ^by a toy, 
 'Midst sev'ral girls, I prov'd the boy ! 
 In stratagems, I fail but seldom : 
 But to the youth, for now I held him ; 
 Yes, held him, ere you may suppose. 
 The warrior cou'd change his clothes ; 
 Come, I exclaim'd, reserv'd is Troy, 
 For thee, brave hero, to destroy. 
 Ne'er hesitate, but with a blow, 
 Exterminate th' audacious foe ; 
 This counsel now, the hero heeded, 
 And thus ray eloquence succeeded. 
 The gallant youth I sent away, 
 His gallant actions to display ;
 
 AJAX AND ULYSSEg. 15 
 
 And all the actions of the same, 
 As mine, with justice, I may claim ; 
 Yes, Sirs, with justice, I've a right, 
 To call them mine ; 1 made him fight. 
 When Telephus, with martial rage, 
 Began our soldiers to engage, 
 'Twas I subdued him, and with ease ; 
 He begg'd his life. Upon his knees ! 
 I did not send him to perdition, 
 But kindly granted the petition. 
 Remember, 'twas Ulysses, who 
 Demolish'd Thebes, and Chryse, too ; 
 Tenedos, Lesbos, Scyros, Cylla, 
 The towns of Phebus, at my will lay. 
 These hands (which weak my rival calls) 
 Shook also the Lyrnesian walls : 
 To mention, Sirs, no other blow. 
 Which I've bestow'd upon the foe, 
 There's one 1 dealt with so much force, 
 Wou'd Hector's self have left a corse ; 
 Through me, however, I may say. 
 That Grecian champion breathless lay. 
 The arms in question, I desire, 
 For those by which I found the 'squire, 
 When he incog, had girl's attire !
 
 26 AJAX AND ULY6SB8. 
 
 'Twas I, y/\o to Achilles gave 'em, 
 He's dead, and back again I crave *era. 
 Sirs, recollect the situation 
 Of Menelaus, the vexation 
 Which he endured by a crim. con. 
 When Helena his wife was gone. 
 And recollect too, I entreat, 
 The time, Sirs, when our num'rous fleet 
 Surrounded the Euboic Aulis, 
 What miseries did then befal us. 
 There was no moving from the place, - 
 The wind was none, or in our face, 
 To remedy this desp'rate case 
 The cruel oracles decreed. 
 That Agamemnon's child shou'd bleed ; 
 That to Diana, he, his daughter, 
 Shou'd sacrifice ; ^unheard-of slaughter 1 
 The message brought, what said he to it ?- 
 His answer was, ' I will not do it ;* 
 He cou'd not do th' unnatural evil, 
 And therefore call'd each God a devil ! 
 To die himself he had much rather, 
 For in the king, he was a father ! 
 But I with a well-tim'd oration, 
 Soon mollified his agitation.
 
 AJAX AND ULYSSES. 17 
 
 Forgive, Atrides ^be assur'd 
 
 I much uneiasiness endur'd ; 
 
 The task, you're conscious, could not be 
 
 A very pleasant one to me 
 
 To make a sire in such distress, 
 
 In such a case too, acquiesce. 
 
 But by persuasions he agreed, 
 
 By force of arguments he weigh'd 
 
 His royal duty country's good 
 
 With that. Sirs, of his daughter's blood. 
 
 The next concern which I, in time, had, 
 
 Was to appease the mother, nigh mad; 
 
 But Woman, when she is in tears, 
 
 'Gainst reason always shuts her ears ; 
 
 No elocution here was fit, 
 
 And so I exercis'd my wit. 
 
 What would if Ajax, pray, had gone 
 
 That Gen'ralissimo have done ? 
 
 At home our vessels must have staid, 
 
 For want of a fair wind delay'd. 
 
 I had the honor, as envoy, 
 
 Of being also sent to Troy ; 
 
 Their senate enter'd and before 'eni- 
 
 A crowd of chiefs I, with decorum. 
 
 The cause of my commission pleaded 
 
 With boldness that was ne'er exceeded ;
 
 18 AJAX AND ULYSSES. 
 
 I Paris as a villain branded ; 
 
 The spoil and Helena demanded. 
 
 Then Priam gaz'd with admiration, 
 
 Antenor too his near relation 
 
 While Paris' brothers, and the felon, 
 
 Who stole away the beauteous Helen, 
 
 Had half a mind, it seems, to slay us. 
 
 This is well known to Menelaus ; 
 
 It being the first grand exploit 
 
 Which we together ever wrought. 
 
 'Twould take up the whole day, I wist. 
 
 Were I to give you. Sirs, a list 
 
 Of all the services I've done, 
 
 By dint of stratagem alone. 
 
 In war, it therefore may be said, 
 
 I serve you both with hands and head ; 
 
 For instance when the Trojans round 
 
 Our city walls were sudden found, 
 
 No hopes could we then entertain, 
 
 A fair and open fight to gain 
 
 This great and weighty point to come at, 
 
 Requir'd ability consummate. 
 
 W^here now was Ajax, and where now his 
 
 Amazing skill, experience, prowess ? 
 
 How did his boasted courage profit I 
 
 Pray, did he show us any of it?
 
 AJAX AND ULYSSES. 18 
 
 But if my actions you must know, 
 
 I craftily ensnar'd the foe 
 
 The ditches round to fence and block up, I 
 
 Was zealous this my time did occupy ; 
 
 With eloquence and art I then 
 
 Harangu'd and comforted the men 
 
 So much indeed, that they appear'd. 
 
 In spite of all their trouble, cheer'd. 
 
 I show'd them how to make their blow sure. 
 
 To bear their hardships with composure : 
 
 I show'd them the best way to go forth, 
 
 The way to be prepar'd and so fortli. 
 
 'Twas now ^by Jove's advice, alas ! 
 
 Yes, Jove who brought it all to pass 
 
 Our king, deceiv'd and I may add, 
 
 Moreover too stark-staring mad 
 
 Decreed forthwith declaring he 
 
 Could justify the strange decree 
 
 The war should end, yes, end against 
 
 The Trojans, which was just comraenc'd. 
 
 Would mighty Ajax this allow ? 
 
 Would he leave Troy unplunder'd ? How ! 
 
 Perform'd he not his duty now ? 
 
 Why did he not with spirit start 
 
 Forbid the Grecians to depart ? 
 
 D^
 
 4lO AJAX AND ULYSSES. 
 
 Why not advise hush their alarms, 
 
 And make the men resume their arms ? 
 
 Yet this is he, who did of late, 
 
 So pompously of valor prate ; 
 
 He scorns a coward, yet in like way, 
 
 Behold him off hie et ubique. 
 
 Oh wonderful ! he took to flight, 
 
 And sham'd me with the shameful sight. 
 
 Could this invincible alack ! 
 
 Prepare his sails, about to tack 
 
 For a disgraceful voyage back ? 
 
 I now burst out in exclamations, 
 
 ' Hullo ! The devil's in you, Grecians ! 
 
 ' What has occasion'd this mad fit, 
 
 ^ That Troy, half taken, you should quit ? 
 
 ' You would not, soldiers, homeward bear 
 
 ' A load of shame in the tenth year ?' 
 
 This speech had the effect desir'd. 
 
 The soldiery seem'd re-inspir'd; 
 
 Yes, they abandoned their retreat, 
 
 And came back from the flying fleet ; 
 
 But, I confess, it was from sorrow 
 
 That I did tliis oration borrow. 
 
 Vex'd to the heart at what they'd all done, 
 
 The son of Atreus now call'd on
 
 AJAX AND ULYSSES. SI 
 
 His friends to meet but when assembled, 
 
 Alas ! they shook their heads and trembled ; 
 
 E'en Ajax master of the sword I 
 
 Could not articulate a word 
 
 Thersites, arrogant and bold, 
 
 Began to taunt the kings and scold ; 
 
 But him a hearty drubbing gave 1, 
 
 And made him roar aloud peccavi. 
 
 Then with fine speeches, soft persuasions, 
 
 I animated all the Grecians ; 
 
 Reviv'd the spirits of our host ; 
 
 Recall'd their courage which was lost. 
 
 By me ev'n Ajax' self was brought 
 
 To war if therefore he did aught 
 
 Aught worthy of your praise and fame ; 
 
 That aught as mine, I justly claim, 
 
 I stopp'd his ignominious flight, 
 
 And made the braggadocio fight. 
 
 Is Ajax' company e'er courted ? 
 
 Is he, for his advice, resorted ? 
 
 Is he e'er call'd upon to meet 
 
 On consultations of ^reat weight ? 
 
 Tydides ever I attend ; 
 
 I am his counsellor, his friend : 
 
 I am belov'd by great Tydides, 
 
 The dear companion he, of my days ;
 
 S2 AJAX AND tTLTSSE*. 
 
 For knowing, Sirs, that I've a wise head. 
 
 He's glad by me to be advised 
 
 An honor it must be allow 'd 
 
 To be thus chosen from a crowd 
 
 Preferr'd, consulted, made the most of 
 
 An honor that 1 well may boast of. 
 
 It was by general consent^ 
 
 I with Tydides always w^nt 
 
 No lots were cast for that intent. 
 
 Oft' did I brave the foe, and slight 
 
 The dangers which occur at night. 
 
 The Phrygian Dolon, Sirs, I slew, 
 
 Who, what we did, essay'd to do ; 
 
 First, from his lips I Jjoldly drew 
 
 Confession full of all he knew ; 
 
 Of all tlie traps the foe had laid 
 
 The preparations they had made. 
 
 Crown'd with success, so great and glorious, , 
 
 I now might have return'd victorious ; 
 
 But no not being yet content, 
 
 I to the tent of Rhesus went ; 
 
 Slew all the sentinels that watch'd. 
 
 And Rhesus afterwards dispatch'd : 
 
 My thirst for glory, and my pride. 
 
 Not being yet half satisfied, 
 
 I seiz'd the chariot, which, elate, 
 
 The Thracian rode in with such state ;
 
 AJAX AND ULYSSES. 25 
 
 And through the camp a triumph made ; 
 
 A triumph, ne'er before display'd ! 
 
 Can you, in conscience, then decree. 
 
 This prize to be withheld from me ; 
 
 From me, who've been so brave and wise as 
 
 To keep from foes all courted prizes ? 
 
 Did I return the steeds which drew me, 
 
 Tho' applications were made to me ? 
 
 Shall Ajax braver be esteem'd, 
 
 And wiser than Ulysses deera'd ? 
 
 A thousand other things I might tell, 
 
 But wherefore tire with a recital ? 
 
 Why talk of Lycia's king, Sarpedon, 
 
 Whose soldiers' heads my weapons play 'don 
 
 Why give a list of all the dead ; 
 
 Of all the blood these hands have shed ? 
 
 Why call to memory Casranos, 
 
 Or Naemon mention, or Prytanis? 
 
 I kill'd 'tis doubted, Sirs, by no one 
 
 Alcander, Chromius, Halius, Thcion ; 
 
 You know, Alastor that I slew, 
 
 Charopes, Chersidamus too : 
 
 Ennomus also overthrew, 
 
 Push'd on by fate to ruin great, 
 
 Which ruin, Sirs, I made complete ; 
 
 With others of less note all whom 
 
 Beneath our walls have met their doom.
 
 34 AJAX AND ULYSSE5. 
 
 But, Grecians, see, I'm cover'd o'er 
 
 With wounds, where I had wounds before ; 
 
 Words may be lying and deceiving, 
 
 But see for seeing is believing 
 
 See this my breast, how it abounds 
 
 With marks of honorable woimds. 
 
 Thus did my heart, Sirs, often bleed 
 
 A proof you have my heart indeed ! 
 
 Has Ajax been at so much cost ? 
 
 A drop of blood, pray, has he lost ? 
 
 No, he has sav'd it all his years, 
 
 And now, without a scar appears. 
 
 He boasts of many a martial feat, 
 
 And that against the Grecian fleet 
 
 He, Jupiter's assistance brought 
 
 All true ! I own it, as I ought 
 
 'T would be ungen'rous to run down 
 
 Another's glory and reno%vn 
 
 But let him not claim all the merit, 
 
 Patroclus should a share inherit : 
 
 Patroclus, whom he did employ. 
 
 And who subdued the men of Troy, 
 
 That came our vessels to destroy. 
 
 Has Ajax boasted has he thought. 
 
 That singly he with Hector fought ? 
 
 Where were the king and other men ? 
 
 Were they not with him even then ?
 
 AJAX AND ULYSSES* 2$ 
 
 He was the ninth with us, I wot, 
 Preferr'd before the rest, by lot. 
 And, what the issue pr'ythee, say, 
 Of thy engagement, on that day ? 
 Hector remain'd without a wound I 
 And, lack-a-day ! with grief profound. 
 Now, to remembrance, I recal 
 Achilles' death our strongest wall ! 
 But, 'spite of danger, grief, dismay. 
 The champion's corse I bore away. 
 Yes, Sirs : and 'midst the war's alarms, 
 I even bore away his arms ! 
 Which arras if I strive not in vain, 
 I trust, that I shall bear again. 
 There's ample proof that, if bestow'd, 
 I've strength enough to lift the load : 
 And, if bestow'd Sirs, you shall find, 
 ril be as grateful, as you're kiod. 
 Would Madam Thetis, with her green hair, 
 Have, at such pains, and trouble, been e'er. 
 To make her blacksmith son produce 
 These arras if for a ninny's use ? 
 How can a soldier, that's illiterate, 
 (Tho' he may bully at a bitter rate) 
 That is unpolish'd, and unwise, 
 Presume to manage such a prize ? 
 
 E
 
 26 A^AX And ulysses. 
 
 The art thereof is so immense, 
 That it requires a man of sense ! 
 The carving of the buckler 's such, 
 He could not fathom it, I'd vouch : 
 To him no learning has been giv'n. 
 To know the sea, earth, stars, and Heav'n, 
 Th' Hyades, Pleiades and Bear, 
 . Which keep the boist'rous ocean clear : 
 The opp'site towns the glitt'ring sword 
 Of fam'd Orion yet, absurd ! 
 These arms would Ajax fain enjoy, 
 Which never could his hands employ* 
 What ! has the blockhead charges laid, 
 That I the tedious war delay'd ? 
 He should have knotvn ^the silly elf I 
 He then abus'd Achilles' self: 
 For if delay be thought a crime. 
 We both dissembled the same time* 
 Shall I, for loitering, be chid, 
 Who came more early than he did ? 
 A spouse detain'd me and a mother. 
 Affectionately kept the other 
 Our time at first. Sirs, they possess'd, 
 To i/ou we then gave all the rest. 
 I safely on myself depend, 
 Another charge. Sirs, to defend j
 
 AJAX AND ULYSSES. 27 
 
 Respecting the departed Palamede, 
 Tho' it may seem the worst of all he made ; 
 But did I not disclose the fraud, 
 And did you not my art applaud ? 
 Be not surpris'd that Ajax he 
 Has rail'd indignantly at me ; 
 You see 'tis evident, and true 
 He rails indignantly at you. 
 For, if it were a crime -a breach 
 That Palamede I should impeach ; 
 A crime a breach it must be thought, 
 That you condemn'd him-^for no fault : 
 He could not for himself a plea grant, 
 His wickedness appear'd so flagrant : 
 It did not only reach your ear, 
 But to your eyes did it appear : 
 You saw the gold he had remov'd ; 
 The accusation then was prov'd. 
 Am I, for Paean's son accus'd, 
 Who, now at Lemnos, is abus'd? 
 Let Ajax think on't he agreed 
 Then let him justify the deed. 
 I'll not deny, 'twas my desire, 
 He from the battle should retire ; 
 Should take his rest, and ease li is pains : 
 He took advice, and he remains. 
 e2
 
 58 AJAX AND ULYSSES. 
 
 My counsel had a good effect ; 
 
 Why then a bad intent suspect ? 
 
 To do what 's right is all we can ; 
 
 It is enough for mortal man ! 
 
 But, Grecians, now, you understand^^ 
 
 It is the Oracle's command, 
 
 Troy's famous seat must be destroy'd ; 
 
 Who, to do this, can be employ'd ? 
 
 A weighty task! Then, pray, beware : 
 
 Can I, Sirs, undertake th' affair ? 
 
 'Tis Ajax is the man more fit ; 
 
 To him, til' important cause commit. 
 
 Ye know his valour know it, when he says, 
 
 He disregards all foes and menaces. 
 
 His eloquence consunmiate skill 
 
 His all-sufficient power, will 
 
 Bring off the soldiers, or assuage 
 
 Those that are mad with pain, or rage. 
 
 Flow back will Simois first, I ween, 
 
 Ide stand still, too, and be seen 
 
 Without a single leaf that 's green : 
 
 Nay, Troy, from Greece assistance find, 
 
 Ere courage leave my active mind. 
 
 However Ajax may have weight 
 
 His policy is very great !-^
 
 AJAX AND ULYSSES. 
 
 29 
 
 Thou, Plan's stubborn son whose malice 
 Against thy friends is rooted callous 
 Who art inveterate, as we see 
 Against the king, and against me ; 
 Tho' now thou curse me from thy heart, 
 And wish that I may shortly smart ; 
 Tho' now while I of thee complain. 
 Thou pray to heav'n my life t' obtain : 
 Grant, righteous powers ! that we may 
 Be face to face, some future day ; 
 I'U then attack thee like a man. 
 Alive will take thee, if I can : 
 Thy very arrows, too, will bear hence, 
 With the same courage perseverance 
 As when Troy's prophets I o'ercame, 
 Warr'd with the Fates disclos'd their aim 
 As when, 'midst foes, without dismay, 
 I, the Palladium bore away. 
 Which in the inner temple lay. 
 Let Ajax think on this, and ne'er 
 His martial deeds with mine compare. 
 The fetes declar'd, that we should not 
 Stir against Troy, till this was got. 
 Where now was Ajax, did he get it ? 
 Are you to him for it indebted ?
 
 (30 AJTAX AND ULT8SES. 
 
 What, did you, Sir ? for none can match you, 
 
 Did you procure Minerva's statue ? 
 
 No by his terrors overpower 'd, 
 
 This bravo, see ! has prov'd a coward. 
 
 'Twas I who did the task assume, 
 
 The watch defied in spite of whom 
 
 I push'd, and fought for elbow room. 
 
 Then thro' the walls I bravely ventur'd ; 
 
 The temple, amidst swords I enter'd ; 
 
 And, with Minerva, in a crack, 
 
 I, from the citadel, came back. 
 
 This unperform'd would Ajax e'er 
 
 A shield upon his left hand bear ? 
 
 That night. Sirs, Troy in ruins lay, 
 
 By me demolish'd, I may say ; 
 
 For, by my skill, I so oblig'd, 
 
 That it was easily besieg'd. 
 
 My rival boasts, as an exploit. 
 
 For the confed'rate fleet he fought ; 
 
 Assistants many tho' had he 
 
 But only one assisted me : 
 
 Yes, one and he but he knows well. 
 
 That brains can always hands excel ; 
 
 And not to strength the prize is due. 
 
 Or he, with justice, for 't might sue,^ 
 
 And gentler Ajax seek it too.
 
 AJAX AND ULYSSES* 31 
 
 More candidates naj, men of worth, 
 Besides my rival, might step forth* 
 Brave Eurypilus might be one ; ' 
 And also fam'd Andremon's son : 
 There's Idomeneus, of great fame, 
 Could also boast an equal claim ; 
 The Cretan Meriones, another. 
 Together with Atrides' brother : 
 These men, great gallantry bespeak aU, 
 To Ajax, I am sure, they are equal : 
 Yet, they give way to me : superior 
 Is understanding strength inferior : 
 My rival's hand may, in the field. 
 Be able to support a shield ; 
 
 But where 's his head ? there 's the objection. 
 
 He needs Ulysses's direction : 
 
 His brains, alas ! are very scant, 
 
 For he of judgment is in want. 
 
 Yes, Ajax, you can only spar 
 
 But I can meditate in war ; 
 
 You 're only capable of few things,. 
 
 But I can think, as well as do things ; 
 
 Contrive and act essential two things ! 
 
 I meet my friend with satisfaction, 
 
 Appoint the proper lime for action :
 
 32 AJAX AND ULYSSES. 
 
 You serve the Grecians with your body ; 
 
 I serve them with ray head you noddy ! 
 
 Thus, as a pilot must out-do 
 
 A rower as a general, too, 
 
 A soldier I am beyond you. 
 
 I've that within, which strength exceeds, 
 
 A mind which strength too never needs. 
 
 Then, judges, with these arms, I pray, 
 
 My wisdom, vigilance repay ; 
 
 Award them, as my legal due. 
 
 For all the toils that I've gone thro' ; 
 
 And since these toils are near an end. 
 
 Be these the payment of a friend ; 
 A recompence, which should be made, 
 Since I such merit have display'd ; 
 Opposing Fates remov'd afar. 
 And taken Troy in tedious war : 
 For I have taken it, no doubt, 
 Since I the conquest brought about ; 
 Mine, therefore, I the conquest call. 
 Then, by our future hopes, by all 
 The Trojan walls, which gave us nods, 
 And then fell down ! by all the gods, 
 Whicli bravely from the foe I brought ; 
 By all in wisdom to be wrought, 
 If, to be done, there still be aught.
 
 AJAX AND ULYSSES. SS 
 
 If there be aught, Sirs, from the enemy, 
 For me to take, and bring again wi' me, 
 If aught of import, to complete 
 The fall of Troy, I now intreat, 
 Achilles' arms, you will allow me, 
 And with the noble prize endow me ; 
 But, if intreaties have no weight, 
 If they a negative must meet, 
 If you, thereof, as it would seem, 
 Ulysses* self unworthy deem. 
 Then be the arms on this bestow'd ;" 
 So saying, he the statue show'd. 
 It was enough, the chiefs were mov'd, 
 His words, his action were appro v'd ; 
 \n able head for ever can 
 A match be for an able man.
 
 34 
 
 DISCONTENT. 
 
 A BURLESQUE TRANSLATION OF THE FIRST 
 :AT1EE IN HORACE. 
 
 How comes it, friend, there's none content. 
 
 With that which Heav'n has kindly sent ; 
 
 But ev'ry simpleton, in vam, 
 
 By nature 's prompted to complain ? 
 
 " The soldier, tir'd of war's alarms," 
 
 Thinks commerce has the greatest charms ; 
 
 Ye merchants,' he exclaims, quite jealous, 
 
 < You, only you, are happy fellows.' 
 
 And yet, the merchant thinks not so, 
 
 If he should hear a tempest blow ; 
 
 When winds and waves are all in motion. 
 
 He entertains the idle notion, 
 
 A soldier's life is better far, 
 
 ' 'Tis death or victory in war ' 
 
 The lawyer, if a client knock. 
 
 Just at the crowing of the cock, 
 
 Wishes himself, with all his soul, 
 
 iV farmer in some smoky hole ; 
 
 While clowns will say,' Oh ! what a pity, 
 
 We are not living in the city.'
 
 DISCONTENT. 35 
 
 The num'rous instances to mention, 
 Not only would exhaust attention, 
 But weary Fabius, whose glib tongue, 
 Goes cUck-clack, click-clack, all day long ! 
 Then let's be brief; Suppose my friend, 
 A God thought proper to descend. 
 Suppose he said, " Mortals, what is it, 
 That you're desirous to solicit ? 
 Explain, with candor, all you want. 
 Explain, and I'll your wishes grant ! 
 You soldiers, who would fain retire. 
 Agreeable to your desire 
 Be merchants now, and, lawyers, you, 
 Who hate your wigs, and parchments too, 
 Be farmers, if you please, away, 
 And act the parts you wish to play." 
 Why do you stand in such surprise, 
 With open mouths and staring eyes ? 
 You are unwilling, tho' you can, 
 Be comfortable, every man ! 
 What wonder then, should Jove come down, 
 And on his creatures sternly frown ; 
 With indignation just, declare, 
 He'd never hear another pray'r. 
 But to be serious, not to sa^m, 
 To write upon a pleasant theme ; 
 f2
 
 36 DISCONTENT. 
 
 And yet, why not, if so inclin'd, 
 
 Why not, with candor speak our mind ? 
 
 A little humour may do good, 
 
 If introduc'd by way of food ; 
 
 Like masters, who their pupils stoci; 
 
 With cakes, to learn their hic^ hmc, hoc. 
 
 But raillery apart, and now, 
 
 Observe the lab'rer at the plough ; 
 
 The lawyer poring o'er his books ; 
 
 The soldier with his martial looks ; 
 
 The mariner, who can disdain 
 
 The thousand dangers of the main : 
 
 All say, these hardships they endure. 
 
 To render their old age secure. 
 
 'Tis thus the careful little ant 
 
 Lays up of food, what she may want ; 
 
 That when the winter comes, she may 
 At home with satisfaction stay ; 
 And wisely live upon the store. 
 Which she as wisely heap'd before. 
 But see, not winter, summer, water, 
 Sword, fire, or tremendous slaughter, 
 Can take the miser from his haunts. 
 Who gathers money, and yet wants ! 
 What pleasure pray, to dig a grave, 
 And bury all the gold you have ?
 
 DISCONTENT. 37 
 
 * Yes (Mr. Poet) there is pleasure, 
 
 To use it would reduce the measure!' 
 
 But will you (Miser) pray explain, 
 
 What use is there of hoarded gain ? 
 
 'Tis plain, tho' in your fertile ground, 
 
 Bushels of corn may be found, 
 
 Your paunch to swell, would ne'er incline, 
 
 But be as lank, as lank as mine ; 
 
 So had you been a slave, decreed. 
 
 With other slaves, to carry bread ; 
 
 No more, you'd get, for your own share, 
 
 Than they, who did no burthen bear. 
 
 W hat does it signify, I pray, 
 
 To him who lives a frugal way. 
 
 If he a thousand acres plough, 
 
 Or but a hundred ? Answer now 
 
 * You (Poet) can't, with all your wit tell, 
 
 How sweet from much to take a little J' 
 
 But (Miser) do you not perceive, 
 
 If a sufficient, little give. 
 
 How useless then, thy much of stufi". 
 
 When moderation has enough ? 
 
 Should you a drink of water choose, 
 
 Would you a rivulet refuse, 
 
 And a wide river rather use ?
 
 J8 DISCONTtlNT. 
 
 But mark, for thus it is I think, 
 The man who thus would rashly drink 
 Of currents whose impetuous force 
 Tears e'en the banks, will be of course, 
 Borne off himself, and let him drown, 
 For he deserves it, all must own ! 
 He, tho', who chooses a small stream, 
 And does not act in the extreme, 
 Will have his drink of water pure, 
 And be from danger too secure. 
 But, there are many now-a-days. 
 Think love of money, love of praise ; 
 Who cry, so greedy they to get, 
 No sum is large enough as yet ! 
 They think respect will prove as great, 
 As is the greatness of th' estate ; 
 What shall we say to men like these ? 
 Bid them be wretched if they please. 
 So, 'bout some hundred years ago, 
 A wight of Athens would be so ; 
 He thus was hoarding store on store, 
 Yet covetous of more and more ! 
 This man had courage tho' to meet 
 A mob who hiss'd bim in the street ; 
 ' Aye, aye, a pin for all you say,' ^ 
 
 (Yet pins he never gave away,)
 
 DISCONTENT. 39 
 
 * Hiss, if you please, and call me elf, 
 
 I'm blest at home when o'er my pelf.' 
 
 Thus Tantalus, so mad with thirst. 
 
 Would catch whatever stream ran first ! 
 
 Why do you grin ? For change the name, 
 
 Of you the story is the same ; 
 
 When with mouth wide, and staring eyes. 
 
 You see, ^yet daren't devour the prize ; 
 
 But gaze upon the glitt'ring treasure, 
 
 As pictures, painted for your pleasure ', 
 
 What ! know you not what gold 's for yet ? 
 
 Why, bread, and herbs, and wine to get, 
 
 Yes, necessaries, such as these, 
 
 To live in comfort, and at ease. 
 
 For nature would be, otherwise, 
 
 Quite sick, for want of these supplies. 
 
 'Tis thus that gold should be employ'd, 
 
 Not watch'd, and not to be destroy'd 
 
 By fire, or be by thieves enjoy'd ! 
 
 What, stolen ! aye, perhaps ta'en away, 
 
 By some deep slave. Is this, I say. 
 
 Is this your bliss ? Heav'n, I beseech, 
 
 To make me poor, and not thus, rich ! 
 
 Hold (Mr. Bard) if Heav'n be pleas'd, 
 
 You with a fever should be seiz'd ; 
 
 Then gold 's a friend, for if you be sick, 
 
 Gold makes your bed, gold brings you physic !
 
 40 DISCONTENT. 
 
 Gold fees the doctor, for, unless j'ou pay, 
 He cannot see to write a recip^, 
 To order that which may restore you, 
 To the dear relatives before you.' 
 But (Miser) know, these dear relations, 
 Wait for your death with great impatience ; 
 The neighbours all abominate you, 
 The little lads and lasses hate you. 
 And do you wonder, you've not got 
 Th' affection which you merit not ? 
 What wonder that your friends for you 
 Have no regard, when, it is true, 
 All your regard is for your gold. 
 Which dearer than all friends you hold ? 
 I'm certain nature did intend 
 Each relative should be a friend. 
 But what by nature thus is gain'd, 
 * Cannot by avarice be retain'd, 
 As well may the dull ass be train'd, 
 Obedient to the bridle's pow'r, 
 And like a steed, the plains to scour. * 
 For heaven's sake, poor soul, give o'er 
 This curst anxiety for store ! 
 Be full of courage, against famine. 
 Full as the bags, which gold you cram in ; 
 And rest yourself, since you've acquir'd, 
 As much as ought to be desir'd.
 
 DISCONTENT. 41 
 
 I pray you act not like Umidius, 
 (The story 's short but very hideous,) 
 Who was possess'd of so much treasure 
 That he could give you gold by measure ; 
 Clad like a slave, tho' he was rich, 
 He hadn't of clothes a decent stitch ; 
 And ere he died he was in dread 
 Of perishing for want of bread* 
 But a brave wench (his only friend) 
 Preserv'd him from this dreadful endt 
 For while the miser lay in bed, 
 She with an axe chopp'd off his head. 
 * What (Poet) is th' advice you give? 
 Pray do you mean that I should live 
 A very prodigal like Maenius 
 A very rake, like Nomentanus ?' 
 So (Miser), now you would, it seems. 
 Defend your vices with extremes ; 
 I'm loth that you should hoard a shilling ; 
 To make you spendthrift too, unwilling. 
 Some difference, or I can't at all see. 
 Between the dropsy and the palsy 
 A mean in all things there must be, 
 V^ice to restrain leave virtue frc^ ; 
 But to our subject let's return. 
 And does the miser singly mourn ? 
 G
 
 48' DISCONTENT. 
 
 Does he alone fret o*er his store, 
 Because another may have more ? 
 Does he alone shut ears and eyes, 
 When Poverty for aid applies ? 
 Alas ! 'tis e'c'ry miser's labor 
 T' outshine in affluence his neighbour. 
 The rich run all at such a pace, 
 They stop each other in the race ; 
 The charioteer thus bends his course. 
 And starts with most impetuous force ; 
 He now applies the cutting whip, 
 The other coursers to outstrip ; 
 And while with violence he drives. 
 Disdains the rest with whom he strives. 
 And thus so great a feast's attraction, 
 No guest leaves one with satisfaction. 
 But here I stop or rail you may 
 Call all a plagiary, and say, 
 1 have Crispinus' lines made free with, 
 Th' he has not an eye to see with.
 
 DRAMATIC PIECES, 
 ADDRESSES, 
 SONGS, &c.
 
 45 ^-'' 
 
 THE FORTUNATE TARS. 
 A BURLETTA. 
 
 PERFORMED AT THE ROYALTY THEATRE AND THB 
 CIRCUS. 
 
 The Music hy Mr, Sanderson, 
 
 DRAMATIS PERSONS. 
 
 Thrifty Mr, Dighton. 
 
 Aaron Mr. Wdlack. 
 
 Tom Mr. Hayne. 
 
 Ben Mr. King. 
 
 Watchman. . 
 
 Polly ^Mrs. Harlowe. 
 
 Sally Mrs. Frances. 
 
 Laundress. 
 
 Scene J Rooma basket of linen lying in a comer. 
 Thrifty pushing in PoLLy. 
 
 DUET. 
 
 Thritfty. 
 Saucy jade, dost yet repent, 
 To my choice wilt thou consent ?
 
 the fortunate tars. 
 
 Polly. 
 No, never, never 
 
 Thrifty. 
 What ! dost thou persist then still 
 
 To love Tom against my will ? 
 
 Polly. 
 For ever, ever. (Exit into a chamber.) 
 
 Thrifty. 
 Such a girl who e'er did see ! 
 
 Polly C Within) . 
 What a cruel guardian you I 
 
 Thrifty. 
 But I'll cure you with this key. . 
 
 Polly. 
 Love can every lock break thro'. 
 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 There you shall stay, proud, stubborn, saucy, fair one, 
 Till you consent to marry little Aaron ; 
 He is a Jew of worth, and what is more. 
 With Miss's hand I'll wipe oflf an old score. 
 
 (Enter Aaron with a bundle.) 
 Oh, here he comes Well, Aaron, what is this ? 
 
 Aaron. 
 Dis vay your ear I have detected Miss.
 
 THE FORTUNATE TARS. 47 
 
 1,.,'. , ' " I '" ' ' . .. . ' 
 
 Thrifty. 
 Eh, how ? My ward ? 
 
 Aaron. 
 Ish from her chamber vindow, 
 
 She let down a long shtring to have dish pinn'd to. 
 
 A man den came and fashten'd it 
 
 Thrifty. 
 
 Ha! WeU! 
 
 Aaron. 
 But de shtring broke and down de bundle fell. 
 
 Thrifty. 
 And you secur'd it right what is it pray ? 
 
 A^RON. 
 
 ( UnfT/iiig the bundle.) 
 A shailor's dress, and in de pocket lay 
 
 Dis note. (Shows him a letter.} 
 
 Thrifty. 
 Let's see, (reads,) " My love these colours wear, 
 
 And Tom will anchor for his charming fair 
 
 At Aldgate Pump, Whitechapel, in a coach. 
 
 Where muffled up I'll wait for your approach : 
 
 Haul down the rope again and I'll be sure 
 
 To hoist you up a key will ope the door." 
 
 Here's a fine rogue ! and there's a pretty jade. 
 
 Aaron. 
 (Putting the letter into the pocket of a jacket.) 
 
 Dese cloaths musht to your vard be now convey'd.
 
 41^ THE FORTUNATE TARt. 
 
 Thbifty. 
 Eh? pray for what? 
 
 Aaron. 
 Why, can't you comprehend ? 
 
 Blesh me ! how dull, she musht elope, my friend. 
 
 I'll muffle myshelf up, my faash will cover, 
 
 And he at Aldgate pump her shuppos'd lover. 
 
 Thrifty. 
 A damn'd good scheme, but how shall I deliver it ? 
 Stay I have't I'll in this basket give her it 
 
 (Puts the bundle into a basket under some linen, ) 
 And likewise tell her, that her laundress Nan 
 Begs she'll look o'er the things soon as she can. 
 He! He! He! 
 
 ( Unlocks the chamber door and goes in.) 
 
 Aaron. 
 Ish she'll guesh whom they came from, 
 
 And tink the vashervoman brib'd by Tom. 
 
 ( Thrifti/ returns and locks the door. ) 
 
 Give me de key I'll tie it to de rope 
 
 Den she vill ope de door and den elope. 
 
 Thrifty. 
 But don't you think it would be right, my friend, 
 Some message to her favourite Tar, to send ? 
 
 For they might meet 
 
 Aaron. 
 
 Ish I comprehend.
 
 the fortunate taks. 49 
 
 Thrifty. 
 How Polly will be trick''d, and in the hope 
 
 Of shunning you, with you will she elope. 
 
 Aaron. 
 But tings ought to be done in black and white ; 
 
 Slio, Mr. Thrifty, I requesht you'll write, 
 
 * Dat to ray care your vard you do commit, 
 
 To use her monies too as I tink fit.' 
 
 (Gives him pen, ink, and paper Thrift 1/ writes.) 
 
 Thrifty. 
 Oh, certainly here, here, (confound the pen !) 
 
 1 ffive her to great A little a r o n. 
 
 There she is yours (Gives him the paper.) 
 
 and now, my friend, I know, 
 
 You'll give me a receipt for all I owe. 
 
 Aaron. 
 Ah, Mr. Thrifty, you are like all friends. 
 
 You do good tings, but 'tis vor your own ends. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 A.h ! friendship's a traffic we find, 
 Vid Gentile as veil as vid Jew. 
 Ve all are prodigiously kind, 
 Vhen there is a premium in view
 
 50 THE FORTUNATE TARS. 
 
 No favour is gratis, it's only but lent ; 
 Interest so great is, we take cent per cent. 
 Chink, chink, chink ; chink, chink, chink ; 
 The pretty little goldfinches, chmk, chink, chink. 
 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 Thrifty. (Solus.) 
 
 I wonder if she's drest yet I engage 
 
 She'll lose no time to fly out of her cage. 
 How happy the young jade now thinks herself, 
 And laughs at me for a poor simple elf- 
 But let her aye the hussy soon shall see, 
 'Tis not so easy to impose on me. 
 I wish to see her drest I'll have a peep 
 When she comes out, into her room I'll creep ; 
 Then from the window a full view I'll take. 
 And see what kind of sailor she will make. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Ah mine is the noddle, contains 
 A competent portion of brains ; 
 I know every thing that is said. 
 The hussy who thinks. 
 With whispers Or winks, 
 T' impose upon me. 
 Shall certainly see 
 He! He! Hel I've a headt
 
 THE FORTUNATE TARS. ^1 
 
 I'm old, Jo be sure, but what then ? 
 I'm wiser than some younger men, 
 Tho' in universities bred. 
 
 Your puppies may scofF, 
 
 In sport take me^off, 
 
 And call me a flat. 
 
 They'll see for all that, 
 He! He! He I I've a head ! 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 Enter Polly from the Chamber^ drest as a Sailor,- she 
 approaches fearfuUi/ ; ac?THRiFTY, xi'ho keeps behind 
 her, slips into her Room. 
 
 Polly. 
 So ! I'm equipp'd ; and Guardian, now adieu ! 
 An excellent device ! farewel the Jew ! 
 But how did Tom the Laundress come to know ? 
 No matter that ; I'll to my lover go ; 
 Stay tho' 'tis fit that I should lock my door ; 
 
 (Locks up Thrift 1/ in the room.) 
 
 Suspicion will be luU'd while that 's secure. 
 Now, what shall be my name, in case I meet 
 Some bold interrogator in the street ? 
 Why Jervis yes which name, to a Don's ear 
 Would sound as harsh as Duncan's to Mynheer. 
 
 H 2
 
 6f THE FORTUNATB TAR!. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Were Dame Fortune now propitious, 
 In the mood to grant my wishes ; 
 
 This the first of all should be ; 
 That old Thrifty, in my room there, 
 Should experience my late doom there, 
 
 And be under lock and key ! 
 
 Oh, my triumph great would be then ! 
 1 should laugh and sing with glee then, 
 
 To the key-hole run, and say : 
 As your ward you did confine, Sir, 
 So her prison shall be thine. Sir, 
 
 There, kind guardian, you may stay. [Exit. 
 
 Scene The Street, and Front of Thritty^s House in 
 the corner a Watchman in his box. Enter Tom and 
 Ben mth a Ladder, 
 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 Tom. 
 And, when the bundle fell, you could not find it ? 
 
 Ben. 
 
 No, faith, it was so dark but never mind it 
 
 She can come down this ladder safe, you know. 
 While he/e you wait to take the fair in tow.
 
 THE FORTUNATE TARS. 53 
 
 Tom. 
 That watchman tho' 
 
 Ben. 
 
 Oh ! he'll his distance keep, 
 
 I gave him half a crown to fall asleep. 
 
 Tom. 
 Then come ; spread all your sails, be of good cheery 
 
 rU sing a song, to tell my love I'm here. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Oh Poll, my dear, your Tom is here. 
 For Hymen's port then let us make : 
 I've in my hold, enough of gold, 
 You shall my prize-money partake. 
 Then pipe all hands, 'tis Love commands. 
 And bids us quickly anchor weigh ; 
 Our flag we '11 hoist, while clear the coast. 
 And cheerly cheerly, pull away. 
 
 Tho' tempests blow, with thee in tow, 
 I'll brave the hurricanes of life ; 
 Pass shoals and rocks, the compass box, 
 While I've a pilot in a wife. 
 Then, Love, prepare ; the wind is fair ; 
 You'll find me to the bottom sound : 
 So true my heart, no plank shall start, 
 Affection ne'er shall run aground !
 
 54 THE FORTUNATE TARS. 
 
 Thrifty, dress' d in Polly's clothes, appears at the 
 Window. 
 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 She's there ! the ladder fix against the wall ; 
 Now Poll, descend I'll catch you, if you fall : 
 The night is dark you can be seen by none ; 
 Old Thrifty little thinks what's going on. 
 
 (Thrifty descends the ladder.) 
 She's come ashore ! Fortune is kmd ; I thank her : 
 Give me thy hand ; now, Ben, we must weigh anchor : 
 Go ^bid the coachman tack about. 
 
 Ben. 
 
 I fly. ^Ejcit. 
 
 Tom. 
 And now, dear Poll, one buss 
 
 Thrifty. 
 Oh fie ! oh fie ! (In a feigned voice.) 
 
 (Enter an old Woman.) 
 
 WOMAN. 
 
 Dear heart! this must be he. Pray is your name 
 Tom Bowsprit, Sir ? 
 
 Tom. 
 Why, yes what is it Dame ? 
 
 Woman. 
 Why, hark you, Sir. I was desir'd to say, 
 
 Miss Poll has from her guardian stole away.
 
 THE FORTUNATE TARS. 55 
 
 Thrifty. 
 The devil ! this message will spoil all, I fear. (aside.) 
 
 Tom. - 
 Hey-day ! how sits the wind ? a fog is here. 
 
 Woman. 
 She'll meet you at my house. Come, come then, quick. 
 
 Thrifty. 
 Oh, damn her ! mind her not 'tis all a trick. 
 
 Tom. 
 That's a strange voice ! there's quicksands in this place. 
 (Runs, takes the watchman's lantern, and holds it up to 
 Thrift?/.) 
 Oh, smash my timbers ! there's a pretty face ! 
 Come along, Dame ; you '11 be my pilot, then ; 
 While this sweet frigate I shall leave for Ben. 
 
 [^Exit with Woman. 
 
 Thrifty. 
 Well, 1 am free ! so I don't care a pin ; 
 Icod ! 1 shook when Polly lock'd me in ! 
 Eh ? Where am I ? (Takes the lantern.) 
 
 Watchman. 
 Hullo ! my lantern's stole ! 
 You, wench ! (seizes Thrift?/. ) 
 
 Thrifty. 
 I am no wench, upon my soul !
 
 36 THE FORTUNATE TARS. 
 
 Enter Ben. 
 
 Oh ! my good Sir, I'm glad that you are come ! 
 This man was very rude 
 
 Ben. 
 
 Eh ? Where is Tora^? 
 
 Thrifty. 
 My sweetheart 's gone before : I hope you will 
 Protect me, Sir, and let none use me ill. 
 
 Ben. 
 
 Nay, never fear. What a damn'! croaking voice ! 
 
 I wish my friend had made a better choice ! (Aside.) 
 
 The coach is ready Where, tko', shall we steer ? 
 
 Thrifty. 
 Vl\ give you the direction 
 
 Ben. 
 
 Come, my dear. 
 
 Good Heav'n ! how hard her hand ! She can't compare 
 With my sweet Sail ! my lost, but still lov'd fair I 
 
 DUET. 
 
 Thrifty. 
 Dear Sir ! I request, 
 You'll protect me from harm. 
 
 Ben. 
 
 Faith, Ma'am, I protest, 
 There's no cause for alarm :
 
 THE FORTUNATE TARS ' 57 
 
 iL .', , . .ry . ' ' J,. ,!iii 
 
 Thrifty. 
 So timid am I, 
 
 Oh dear I shou'd die, 
 
 If any bold fellow be rude. 
 
 V Ben. 
 
 Oh ! poor tender maid, 
 
 Pray be not afraid, 
 
 The devil a one will intrude ! [Ea^it, 
 
 Scene An Apartment. 
 Enter Polly alone. 
 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 1 can't imagine what's come o'er my love. 
 He never spoke while in the coach we drove : 
 Heyday, who's here ? Another mistress ! no 
 He wou'd not bring me here if that were so 
 Icod he knows, I'd be for pulling caps. 
 
 Enter Sally. 
 
 Sally. 
 Your pardon Sir, as you're a Tar, perhaps, 
 
 You can inform me, if one Mr. Ben, 
 
 Who went with Duncan, is come home again. 
 
 Polly. 
 Ben, Ben ! you don't mean Thomas Bowsprit then ?
 
 58 the fortunate tars. 
 
 Sallt. 
 No, Sir, Ben Tackle. ' ^' 
 
 PotLY. ''^ 
 
 Oh ! I comprehend, 
 
 He is come home, she means my lover's friend. (aside.J 
 
 Sally. 
 He knows not where I am, an orphan now, 
 
 Alas ! he may forget his every vow. 
 
 AIR. Sally. 
 
 I. 
 
 Where's my swain, ah tell me where, 
 
 Some kind deity above ! 
 To his ear my sorrows bear, 
 
 If he live and live to love. 
 
 II. 
 
 But if gone, ah tell me so. 
 
 The sad message freely give ; 
 Then my tears apace shall flow, 
 
 And poor Sally cease to live. [Exit. 
 
 RECITATIVE. Polly. 
 
 Poor girl 1 1 pity her, but never fear, 
 Your Ben, I warrant you, will be sincere, 
 Ha ! Aaron here ! I hope he didn't discover. 
 That in a coach, I came here with my lover.
 
 THE FORTUNATE TARS. 
 
 59 
 
 Ent^r Aaron. 
 
 Aaron. 
 Oh plesh my heart, you are a tight young Tar, 
 Vat ish your name ? wash ever in a var ? 
 
 Polly. 
 My name, why, Sir, my name is is Dick Jervi, 
 To tell the truth, I've seen a little service. 
 
 Aaron. 
 He ! he ! no no these little roguish eyes. 
 Tell me you're Polly Tittup, in dishguise. 
 
 Polly. 
 Ha ! I'm betray'd ! well, what is that to you ? 
 Pray let me go, I hate you, you're a Jew. 
 
 Aaron. 
 Dat ish unkind, dere's one shall tell you sho I 
 
 Polly. 
 Ha ! for my guardian, then he'll surely go. [Exit. 
 
 Re-enter Aaron with Tom. 
 
 Aaron. 
 Dere ish your sweet heart, I dechiev'd her true. 
 But for your shake, to give her unto you, 
 
 (Joins their hands,) 
 And now, Miss Poll, vat tink you of a Jew ! 
 
 Tom. 
 Oh Polly, he has play'd the honest part, 
 His worth is not in bags but in the heart !
 
 60 the fortunate tars. 
 
 Polly;^ ^^ 
 Kind man ! but Thrifty,, 
 
 Aaron,- 
 He can't take it ill, 
 Dere's his consent for you, against his will. 
 
 < (Gives the paper } 
 Eh > plesh my heart ! vat woman can dat be ? 
 
 Enter Thrifty and 3en, at the other 5?cfe Sally. 
 Oh! Mr. Thrifty. 
 
 All. 
 
 Ha, ha, ha ! 
 Thrifty, 
 
 Is that Tom, I sec, 
 Aaron. 
 Ish, dat ish Tom, I'll speak to you, come here, 
 
 Sally. (a:fter walking before, and looking at Ben.) 
 And don't you knovy me, Ben ? 
 
 Ben. 
 
 What ? Sail, my dear, 
 And have we met again, no more to part ? 
 Oh this doth lift the topsails of ray heart ! 
 You lost your parents, but 1 hope 
 
 Sally. 
 
 Heigh ho ! 
 Ben. 
 You found a friand, who took you then in tow, 
 
 (She points to Aaron.) 
 How ? Aaron!
 
 THE FORTUNATE TARS. 61 
 
 Sally. 
 Yes, the best of friends to me ! 
 
 Ben. 
 
 jSir, Sir, that purse is yours, 
 
 (Gites Aaron a purse.) 
 
 Aaron. 
 
 How can dat be ? 
 
 Ben. 
 
 For being to the orphan child, a father ! 
 
 Aaron. 
 Poo poo, then give it to the orphan rather. 
 
 {Grces it to Sally.) 
 
 Thrifty. 
 So, I am trick'd, and by a scoundrel Jew, 
 
 I did'nt expect this usage, Sir, from you. 
 
 Aaron. 
 Hush, hush ! you know you used poor Polly hard ; 
 
 And meant to sacrifice your pretty ward : 
 
 But 1 resolv'd to frustrate your design, ' 
 
 And with her fav'rite Tar's, her hand to join. 
 
 Thrifty. 
 It's all in vain to scold ahd make a noise, 
 
 So take her, Tom. 
 
 Tom. 
 Huzza ! she's mine, my boys ! 
 
 Now, my sweet frigate, we shall sail together ; 
 
 For now, 1 trust, we'll have no more foul weather.
 
 (gifv THE FORTUNATE TARS. 
 
 FlNAlE. 
 
 Tom. 
 Since we've prizes found in women, 
 
 Let's the sails of love be trimming, 
 
 And be always messmates, swimming 
 
 In an ocean of good grog. 
 
 Polly. 
 Hence with care, a lifeless log ! 
 
 Turn the thing adrift and sink it ; 
 
 While for love, we'll toast and drink it, 
 
 May it never meet a fog ! 
 
 Chorus. Hence with care, &c. 
 
 Ben, 
 
 Blest with Sal, my joy and life now, 
 
 I'll steer clear of worldly strife now ; 
 While my pilot, is my wife now, 
 She's my rudder and my beam ! 
 
 Sally. 
 Thus may lovers always seem ! 
 
 May they know love's ev'ry blessing, 
 
 Like each couple here, possessing 
 
 The dear objects they esteem. 
 
 Chorus. Thus may lovers, &c. 
 
 Thrifty. 
 Pray be kind, good critics, pray now, 
 
 If you frown I'll faint away now,
 
 THE FORTUNATE TARS. 63 
 
 But I'll curtsey, if you say now, 
 Modesty I've not o'erleap'd ! 
 
 Aaron. ' 
 Since so long displeasure 's slept, 
 Still, oh smile on each endeavour, 
 Be our Tars your favourites ever. 
 And a Jew of worth accept ! 
 
 Chorus. Since, &c.
 
 THE FARTHING RUSHLIGHT, 
 
 OR 
 
 SIR SOLOMON'S WEDDING. 
 
 A DRAMATIC MEDLEY. 
 
 FOUNDED ON THE SONG OF THE RUSHLIGHT, ANtt 
 PERFORMED SEVERAL NIGHTS AT THE ROYALTY 
 THEATRE. 
 
 CHARACTERS, 
 
 Sir Solomon Simons Mr. Wallack. 
 
 John ]\Ir. King. 
 
 Cook Mr. 
 
 Coachman Mr. 
 
 Watchman Mr. Delpini. 
 
 Lady Simons Mrs. Harlowe. 
 
 ^ Scene A Chamber. 
 Sir Solomon Simons discovered at a table in his Night' 
 Cap, taking off his Garters, and Ladj/ Simons, tin' 
 dressing at her Toilet. 
 
 BVET. (The Maid of the Mill.) 
 
 Sir Solomon Simons. 
 *Tis past twelve o'clock, my dear Lady, I swear j 
 
 Then let us, my love, be free : 
 
 Oh, how 1 do long to embrace thee, my fair, 
 
 For dying I am for thee.
 
 the faiithing rushlight* 
 
 Lady Simons. 
 But won't my dear Irasband first X3ut out the light ? 
 
 He'll do so much sure for me ! 
 Alas ! with confusion I'd blush all the night, 
 
 My love, if undress'd, to see. 
 
 Sir Solomon Simons. 
 'Tis but a mere rushlight, I vow and protest ; 
 
 No harm can that surely be 
 Its glimmer can never prevent you from rest : ^ 
 
 Then let it stay in for me. - 
 
 Lady Simons. 
 Now go, naughty man, how uncivil you prove, 
 
 Why not to my wish agree ? 
 Sir Solomon Simons, if you've any love, 
 
 You'll sure put it out for me. 
 
 Sir Solomon Simons^ 
 'Tis but a mere rushlight, &c. 
 
 Lady Simons. 
 Now go, naugtily man, &c. 
 
 SONG. (JFAa^ can the Matter be?) 
 
 Sir Solomon Simons. (after blooDi'ifgy &.) 
 And it's oh dour wliat is come over me. 
 Oil dear what is come over me, 
 Oh dear what is come over me. 
 
 K 
 
 6d
 
 66 THE FARTHING RUSHLIGHT. 
 
 The devil is in it no doubt ! 
 Did ever a thing so vexatious befal a man ? 
 This light plays the devil with you, oh poor Solomon ! 
 I b'lieve in my heart that I must go call a_raan 
 
 This damn'd farthing light to put out. 
 
 SONG. (Mrs. Case?/.) 
 
 Lady Simons. 
 
 I could not sleep, no not a wink, 
 
 If here there is so much light, 
 Why you arc dull, ray dear, I think, 
 
 That can't put out a rushlight. 
 Well, I mtist see what I can do, 
 
 My breath it may outvie man's : 
 At least I'll blow as well as you. 
 
 Or I'm not Lady Simons. (Blowing.) 
 
 Oh dear ! Oh gracious I 
 'Tis sure vexatious ! 
 
 In vain do I endeavour 
 Without any joking. 
 The thing is provoking 
 
 I b'lieve 'twill burn for ever ! 
 
 ( Thej/ bloza alternatelj/.)
 
 THE FARTHING RUSHLIGHT. 67 
 
 DUETT. r^/o// of the Wad. ) 
 
 Sir Solomon Simons. 
 My lady, you see, that I'm in a heat 
 
 I puff and I blow for nothing at all 
 Oh with my exertions, which surely are great, 
 
 1 swear my dear I am ready to fall. 
 Your orator thus, 
 Will blow, make a fuss ; 
 
 And bellow as loud too as if on a stage. 
 He'll puff, do you see, 
 Like you and like me ; 
 
 And lose all his breath too like one in a rage. 
 
 Lady Simons. 
 Pray, huslaand, contrive some rqeans, I request, 
 
 T' extinguish directly this obstinate light ; 
 Your rushlights, as long as 1 live, I'll detest ; 
 
 I wish the vile thing was out of my sight. 
 The footman then call, 
 Cook, coachman, and all, 
 
 Be sure in this cause ev'ry one to engage ; 
 For my part indeed. 
 More breath do I need ; 
 
 This thing is enough to put one in a rage ! 
 
 C^'/V S. S. rin^sihe heU.)
 
 (18 THE FARTHING RUSIILTGHT. 
 
 Bnter John pawning Cook and Coachman, partly un- 
 dressed. 
 
 SONG. {Sailor* s Journal.) 
 
 John. 
 Yotir honor I was half asleep 
 
 Fatigu'd indeed beyond all measure 
 
 But 1 contriv'd upstairs to creep, 
 
 To know what is your honor's pleasure. 
 
 SONG. (i% Name is Little Ilarry-o.) 
 
 Lady Simons.* 
 You see there is too much light-o ; 
 Tlien come blow out tliis rushliglit-o ; 
 
 My love and I, in vain did try 
 To crush the farthing rushlight-o ; 
 AVe never met with such light-o ; 
 But you, I hope, will crush light-o ; 
 
 And may I die, if e'er I'll buy 
 Another farthing rushlight-o. 
 
 DUETT. (.Vawcy Dawson.) 
 
 Cook. {after blowing.) 
 How hard the tiisk that you appoint ; 
 You sec, sufficient breath 1 want ; 
 J'd rather boil or roast a joint. 
 
 Than blow here at this nishligljt.
 
 THE FARTHING RUSHLIGHT. 69 
 
 John. {after blowing,) 
 Well, I was never so hard set, 
 It is in vain to pufFand fret ; 
 I vow to gad, I never met 
 
 In all my life with such light. 
 
 SONG. (T^e Lamplighter.) 
 
 Coachman-. 
 I'm little Bob, your coachman Sir, 
 
 Who soon will stop this rout ; 
 And may my ponies never stir 
 
 If I don't drive it out. (Blowing.)' 
 
 Well, all my skill this rushlight mocks 
 
 I ne'er met such before 
 May little Bob ne'er mount his box 
 
 If he'll blow any more ! 
 
 DUETT. (^ey dance to the Fiddle and Tabor.) 
 
 Sir Solomon Simons. 
 Come, call in the lads and the lasses, 
 For surely this rushlight all rushlights surpassc*?, 
 And yet I am dying with laughter, 
 
 Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! He!
 
 70 THE FARTHING RUSHLIGHT. 
 
 " " ' - ' ' ft-i 
 
 Call Macaronies in, 
 
 Vagrants and vagabonds ; 
 
 ' Bring all your cronies in, 
 
 Dress'd ones and ragged-ones ; 
 
 Call every man you meet, 
 
 If you can any meet, 
 
 And then pray hand him it 
 
 To give a puff, 
 
 Sure this rushlight all rushlights surpasses ! 
 
 He! He! &c, 
 
 Lai)^ Simons. 
 Come call in both masters and misses, 
 
 For ne'er was a light such a light sure as this is, 
 
 At least they shall join us in laughter ; 
 
 Ha ! Ha ! Ha ! Ha ! He ! 
 
 Call every passenger 
 
 That you can find to blow ; 
 
 Watchmaji or messenger, 
 So he has wind to blow ; 
 
 Call every soul you meet. 
 
 If the patrole you meet ; 
 
 But, alas, who'll you meet ? 
 
 Has wind enough ! 
 
 For ne'er was a light such a light sure as this is. 
 
 He! He! &c. 
 
 (/ the course of the above duetto John goes out, anda4 
 the endofity returns with a IJ'atchman.)
 
 THE FARTHING RUSHLIGHT. 
 
 71 
 
 ^ONG. (There was a Jolly Miller once.) 
 
 John. 
 Come in, my honest fellow, pray, 
 
 Attend ray master's call 
 Who knows, good watchman, but you may 
 
 Be the best man of all 
 If you this rushlight can put out, 
 
 Which none of us here can, 
 Why then we'll say, without a doubt, 
 
 You are a clever man. 
 
 ^Ol^G. (Give me One and I'll give Two,) 
 
 Watchman. 
 If no snuiFers could be got, 
 Thumbs and fingers had you not ? 
 
 (Turns the rushlight down all stare at him.) 
 Now I go the hour to cry 
 Half-past One and so good-bye. ( Exit.) 
 
 ^ONG. (Corporal Casey.) 
 
 Sir Solomon Simons. 
 Egad now with laughing I'm ready to choak, faith 
 So bother'd for nothing it was a good joke, faith ; 
 I'd lay any wager, aye, faith, e'en my head lay, 
 They'll have uy at the playhouse in a song or a medley.
 
 T8 THE FARTHING RUSHLIGHT. 
 
 'i:RlO.-^The Rushlight.) 
 
 Lady Simons. , 
 Oh, pray let me not to the playhouse be brought ; ' 
 
 There, over the stage, dear husband, to brush light, 
 
 I'd die if I e'er in this figure was caught, 
 
 About a mere rushlight, 
 
 A mere farthijig rushlight : 
 
 And all pray for what ? to puff at the rushlight ! 
 
 John. 
 Ne'er mind, mistress dear ; to the gallery I'll go, 
 
 There to support you whenever you blush light : 
 
 I'll clap my hands too whenever you blow ; 
 
 
 
 And I'll laugh at the rushlight, 
 
 The little farthing rushlight, 
 
 I'll laugh and applaud the little farthing rushlight. 
 
 Sir Solomon Simons. 
 Thai's right, Mr. John, because critic folks 
 
 Would have't in their pow'r that evening to crush light t 
 
 And if they find fault with our little jokes, 
 
 'Tis out with ihe rushlight. 
 
 The damn'd farthing rushlight : 
 
 But clap, gentle folks : imd keep in the rushlight.
 
 73 
 
 WOMAN'S SEVEN AGES; 
 
 ORi 
 
 BELLES, HAVE AT YE ALL. 
 
 RECITED AND SU^G BY MISS CARtWRlGHT, UPWARDS 
 OF FORTY SUCCESSIVE NIGHTS, AT THE LYCEUM. 
 
 The Music hy Mr. Daxiy> 
 
 The lines marked with inverted commas ^ were omitted. 
 
 <' TBE world's a stage," and true the saying, 
 
 For many parts we're always playing ; 
 
 Some boast of country seats, for scenery, 
 
 Of dress, and very fine machinery ! 
 
 While several of inferior station. 
 
 Know nothing about decoration ! 
 
 How many can full boxes draw, 
 
 Make their appearance with eclat ; 
 
 While others can exert no pow'rs. 
 
 But like poor strollers, " fret their hours I" 
 
 L
 
 74 woman's tBTEN AGES. 
 
 For Comedy, the ball-room enter, 
 Thalia reigns there in the centre ; 
 For Tragedy, see many a mourner, 
 And Farce you'll find in ev'ry comer. 
 Thus " players all," as Shakespeare says, 
 
 " The mi and women," *lis a feet, 
 And one man " Seven Ages" plays, 
 
 As many too the women act. 
 Since players, like the men we find them. 
 They must have characters assign'd them, 
 
 While this great world the stag* is. 
 Be it my present effort then. 
 To prove, as well as gentlemen. 
 
 They have their Seven Ages. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Dear ladies, you'll be kind I trust. 
 
 Attend a sister's call, 
 A playhouse picture shou'd be just ; 
 
 So B^es, have at you all. 
 
 Shall it be said, no part we take. 
 
 In this theatric ball ? 
 I'll every lady actress make. 
 
 So Belles, have at you all.
 
 woman's seven ages. 
 
 75 
 
 If maids, or wives, or widows gay, 
 
 Whatever lot befal, 
 I'll hit upon the parts you play, 
 
 So Belles, have at you all. 
 
 Without effect wou'd be life's scenes, 
 
 The incidents how small ! 
 Did we not furnish ways and means, 
 
 So Belles, have at you all. 
 
 " Cou*d men without us e'er perform ? 
 
 " Cou'd they rehearsals call ? 
 We help them, sure, to rant and storm, 
 
 <' Then Belles, have at you all." 
 
 And now the curtain rises, and discovers 
 A pretty babe amidst parental lovers ; 
 The scene, vi cradle, such the infant age. 
 When Miss appears the first time on the stage! 
 Now gossips throng around the little creature, 
 They find the mother out in ev'ry feature ; 
 Now silver bells, for joy and pleasure ring. 
 And thus the nurse begins to talk and sing : 
 ' And did'em vex my child that she cries so, 
 Eh ? vex my pet ! go, naughty people, go,
 
 Tfi" voman's seven ages. 
 
 We'll tell manuna, well never mind, my Sal 
 
 Shall be a maid of honor, that she shall 
 
 Well no, don't cry, hush ! heaven's blessings on her ^ 
 
 Dcn't cry, and it shall be no maid of honor.' 
 
 SONG. (Imitating a Nurse.) 
 
 'Tis hush-a-bye baby my dear, 
 And hush-a-bye baby my love, 
 
 No rawbones shall ever come near, 
 No kite run away with my love. 
 
 And oh she's her mother's delight, 
 And oh she's her nurse's own pet ; 
 
 Hobgobliijs shall never aflfright. 
 My sweet-one they never shall get. 
 
 Then hush-a-bye, &c. 
 
 The next scene now, a boarding school discloses, 
 And Miss, ia many situations shows us ; 
 She must have braces, toprcvent round shoulders, 
 To keep her head up, and attract beholders. 
 How great her grief, when put up in a comer, 
 With foolscap on, for little fools to scorn her ;
 
 woman's seven ages. 77 
 
 That's soon forgot, when breaking-up is near, 
 When a plumcake, or birth^day brings good cheer; 
 Then o'er the play-ground, how she trips so gay, 
 And with a skipping-rope, drives care away ; 
 fi But lack-a-day ! her primmer she must get, 
 ' And thus begins to learn her alphabet. 
 
 "SONG. 
 
 u An angel was A, and with B beauty's 6ait, 
 
 " While C was a courtier, who constantly came, 
 " But D was a </angler, with E an estate, 
 
 " As/antastic as F, and as/ond of/alse/ame. 
 f Great G was the g-uardian, who gave his consent, 
 
 " That he should be H, that is husband you know, 
 And I shall emply, your mviting mtent, 
 
 " While K thus his A-indness and Zcnowlege wou'd show. 
 
 Zx) L with fove fetters, the Zady had Zed, 
 
 And M was a messenger, wanag'd much more, 
 < While N was a wight, in iVbvember, 'tis said, 
 
 When O, opportunity, open'd the door ! 
 " Pert P was postillion, with Q ^uite a ^mz, 
 
 " Who rattled thro' R, all the roads in the place ; 
 f And S, so successful the schemes which were his, 
 
 '^ That T thought it trouble, die travellers to irace.
 
 T8 woman's seten ages. 
 
 *' U now undertook to nite the fond pair, 
 
 " And urg'd W, ho for auedlock then went ; 
 " Crpss X was ejcpected, but not being there, 
 
 " Y^ok'd the^^oung lovers, and yielded consent. 
 " Z came last of all, he had travell'd zig sag ; 
 
 *' The zany then cried sooks, it's well it's no worse : 
 *' Forgiveness was now all the zeal he cou'd brag, 
 
 *'The /c/Zer* were join'd, and words foUow'd of course." 
 
 Alas ! what grief! the writing-master comes, 
 And Mr. Roundhand teazes her with sums ; 
 The dancing-master next, and debonnaire, 
 Monsieur Coupee, now leads her with an air. 
 A visit then, from Signor she receives, 
 And Arionelli thus his lesson gives. 
 
 SONG. (Imitating an Italian Singer.) 
 
 Begin, one, two, tree, begin if you please, 
 And up vid de voice, oh, up, up by degrees. 
 
 Soft, aifettuoso. 
 
 Dear ! why do you go so ? 
 Oh de capo, ray dear, de capo dat line, 
 And den make de quiver, de quiver so fine.
 
 AyOMAN's SEVEN AGESb 79 
 
 Mind de time, one, two, tree, 
 Dat is wrong, don't you see ? 
 Oh fie, Clementina, 
 Dat's wrong, Wilhelmina; 
 Vat quiver you make, 
 Vhy dat be no shake ; 
 One, two, tree, 
 Oh dear me ! ' 
 
 You're wrong, Clementina, 
 
 You're wrong, Wilhelmina, 
 
 Clementina, Wilhelmina, 
 
 Wilhelmina, Clementina, 
 
 You are wrong, oh dear me I 
 
 One, two, tree, oh dear me ! 
 
 One, two, tree, one, two, tree. 
 
 Miss in her teens, commences her third age, 
 She's all the ton^ whatever is the rage ; 
 She smiles, she leers, she plays too with her fan, 
 In short she studies all the arts she can, 
 To make a conquest of some fav'rite man. 
 So hints the poet, or I much mistake. 
 That every woman is" at heart a rake." 
 Now queen of fashion, she's admired by all, 
 At concert, playhouse, opera, or ball.
 
 80 woman's seven agiSs. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Fickle fashion, curious, strange, 
 How the taste for dress you change, 
 
 To vagaries ever prone ! 
 What you fix on, must be worn, 
 Tho* the thing cou'd not be borne, 
 
 Till by you, 'tis made the ton. 
 
 Fashion made it once the taste, 
 To display large hoop and waist, 
 
 Soon as ladies were full grown. 
 Fashion then was pleas'd in sport. 
 To cut all these matters short, 
 
 Sq short waists became the ton. 
 
 It was fashion's former whim, 
 
 To make head-dress high and prim, 
 
 Tho' a weight we all must own. 
 But she lighten'd soon our car^, 
 Like the waist she cut the hair, 
 
 And a wig is how the ton ! 
 
 The fourth age, a romantic novel seems, 
 Heigh-ho ! she sighs all day, all night she dreams. 
 Her swain is false, or, well-a-day ! another. 
 Less dear, proposed by father or by mother !
 
 woman's seven ages. 81 
 
 What stolen interviews, what vows of love 
 
 Are witnessed by the moon and stars above ! 
 
 Are there no hopes of bliss ? Love gives the hint ; 
 
 Elopement is a word oft seen in print : 
 , She runs away, is married, what a fuss ! 
 
 But she returns, and asks forgiveness thus. 
 
 AIR. CSwMg Jcneelingf in a burlesque manner, ) 
 
 Oh pray papa. 
 
 And pray mamma, 
 Forgive me, and my swain ; 
 
 Oh pray forgive. 
 
 And while we live, 
 W e'U ne'er do so again. 
 
 " If love be thought 
 
 " So great a fault, 
 " How many are to blame ! 
 
 " For don't you know, 
 
 " Some years ago, 
 " You did yourselves the same?" 
 
 The fifth age is attended oft with cares, 
 Domestic troubles, family affairs ; 
 A widow now, in sable weeds, good lack ! 
 She'd give the world to have her husband back.
 
 tt UTOMAn's SZXEJf AGEtt, 
 
 But the sixth age this sorrow may remove, 
 
 May bl( ss our heroine with a second love ; 
 
 The Dramatis personce are increas'd, 
 
 With sons and daughters now the tstble's grac'd ; 
 
 Such as the father was, is little Hal, 
 
 While the mamma in miniature is Sal. 
 
 And now the matron forms the seventh age. 
 
 When whist, and dear quadrille her thoughts engage ; 
 
 She wags her tongue, as long as e'er she can, 
 
 Thus finding fault with her grand-daughter Anne : 
 
 (Imitates an old Woman.) 
 ' Fie fie, now, Miss, indeed you are too wild, 
 1 never did so, when I was a child, 
 You must not go abroad why, are you mad ? 
 /The girls do nothing now-a-days but gad ! 
 Ah ! lord, be with the time when I was young, 
 I staid at home and work'd the whole day long.' 
 
 SONG. (Sung in an old Woman's manner.) 
 
 When 1 was a child I was modest and shj-, 
 
 With Yes, ma'm, and No, ma'm, did always reply. 
 
 My needle 1 took. 
 
 Or went to my book. 
 And Oh ! what a very good child then was I.
 
 woman's seven ages. W 
 
 When I was fifteen, I took care what I s^id, 
 No novels perus'd, and no fashions dispiay'd ; 
 No plays went to then, * 
 
 Nor talk'd to young men^ 
 And Oh ! what a prudent young lady I made. 
 When I was a wife, how my husband I lov'd, 
 And he was a man whom my parents approv'd ; 
 I suflfered no waste, 
 Made all my own paste, 
 And oh what an excellent housewife was 1. 
 
 Now the catastrophe alas ! draws near 
 
 Bah ! rheumatism ; pains in the bones, Oh dear ! 
 
 The doctor enters, and his fee he takes, 
 
 Her pulse he feels, and then his head he shakes. 
 
 (Imitating a Doctor taking snuff, Sfc.) 
 < Great dangers ! Humph '.' No hopes ? no, none he thinks. 
 The trap door opens, and my lady sinks ; 
 She's play'd Iier seven acts, while some play half, 
 Let your applause then be her epitaph. 
 
 FINALE. 
 
 All the world then a stage is. 
 All our acts are seven ages, 
 
 'Tis decreed that there we stop, 
 All our acts are seven ages, 
 
 And the curtain then must drop.
 
 84 woman's seven ages. 
 
 Exit ladi/ all is over, 
 
 Let applause her failings cover, 
 
 Or her fame lies on the shelf; 
 Let applause her failings cover, 
 
 Exit tlien with joy myself. 
 
 RBCAPITULATION OF THE PRECEDING SUBJECT, IN 
 
 A SONG. 
 Tune. (All among the Leaves so green-o.) 
 
 Life's a stage and ev'ry one 
 Plays a character thereon, 
 Now we enter, and as sure. 
 We must exit, rich or poor ; 
 Seven ages acts a man, 
 And, as many, woman can I 
 Full of incident I ween-o. 
 With your leave. 
 Then I'll give 
 An abstract 
 Of each act ; 
 
 So strange, so strange, 
 Ev'ry, ev'ry change ; 
 You'll laugh at each whimsical scene-o.
 
 woman's seven ages. 
 
 85 
 
 First a puppet, Miss appears 
 Ever ready with her tears ; 
 While the gossips pouring in, 
 Praise the dimple and the chin ! 
 For the pretty features strike. 
 Father, mother they're so like ; 
 Liker never yet has been-o. 
 This one shows 
 Mother's nose, 
 That one spies 
 Father's eyes ! 
 
 All kiss, all kiss 
 Little, pretty Miss ; 
 This sure is a farcical scene-o. 
 
 In a few years after this. 
 At a boarding-school is Miss ; 
 Quite accomplish'd how she grows, 
 Holds her head up, turns out toes ! 
 Able too, in French to chat. 
 Sings and dances and all that, 
 Is she not a Cyprian queen-o ? 
 
 Curtsey makes. 
 
 For some cakes. 
 
 Gives them all, 
 
 Td-her doll,
 
 $$ WOMAN S SEVEN AGES. 
 
 Oh how, oh how 
 Simple, simple now ; 
 This sure is an innocent scene-o. 
 
 Miss now sees a handsome lass 
 In her tell-tale looking-glass, 
 And begins a swain to choose, 
 Then to read sweet billet-doux. 
 Novels bid her live on hope, ' 
 Friends advise her to elope ; 
 Then away for Gretna Green-o. 
 Off they skip, 
 Crack goes whip, 
 Dad's alarm'd, 
 Miss quite charra'd, 
 Oh how, oh how 
 Busy, busy now ; 
 This sure is a comical scene-o. 
 
 Madam now is fix'd for life. 
 And becomes a modern wife ; 
 *Tis abroad, ' My love, my dear/ 
 But at home not so, I fear ; 
 Contradictions there must be, 
 'Tis connubial harmony, 
 Tho' it savour of chagrin-o. 
 Falling out, 
 ^V ha! a rout !
 
 woman's s!Tek ages. ^' 
 
 Kissing then, 
 Friends again. 
 
 Oh how, oh how, 
 Fickle, fickle now ; 
 The fourth is a pantomime scene-o. 
 
 Now what hopes and fears abound. 
 All is silence most profound ; 
 News is brought, then hence despair, 
 We have got a son and heir t 
 Quite elate the husband's grown, 
 Being sure ^e'* all his own y 
 The truth of that doth she know : 
 All folks met, 
 What a set, 
 Wishmg joy. 
 Christen boy ! 
 
 Fine cheer, fine cheer, 
 Ev'ry, ev'ry year ! 
 The fifth is a ludicrous scene-o. 
 
 Beauty like the rose must fade. 
 Madam finds her charms decay'd; 
 Grey locks fain she'd lay aside. 
 And with paint her wrinkles hide ! 
 But in vain her art she tries, 
 Paint and patches won't disguise, 
 Which oft brings on the spleen-o.
 
 woman's seven ages. 
 
 How she groans, 
 Pains in bpnes ! 
 Full of cares. 
 And grey hairs ; 
 
 Dear me ! dear me ! 
 
 Must it, must it be ? 
 The sixth is a tragical scene-o. 
 
 The last act doth now appear, 
 The catastrophe draws near ; 
 Death steals in, who visits all, 
 Then for stage-tricks, start ! and fall ! 
 Doctors sage exert their skill. 
 To prevent the threat'ning ill, 
 Andnheir heroine to screen-o. 
 Vanish hopes, 
 Trap-door opes, 
 Down she pops. 
 Curtain drops. 
 
 Good-bye, good-bye, 
 There, oh there you lie. 
 'Tis exit poor lady, this scene-o.
 
 AN OCCASIONAL ADDRESS, 
 
 SPOKEN BY MB. GLENVILLE, IN THE CHAftACTER OF 
 AN IRISHMAN, ON HJS BENEFIT, AT THE THEATRE 
 ROYAL, CROW-STREET, DUBLIN, 1786. 
 
 OtJGH ! you cannot conceive how happy I'm grown, 
 To see such a number here gather'd alone. 
 Myself cannot speak, for, to tell you the truth, 
 This minute, dear creatures ! my heart's in my mouth. 
 There's nothing could give me, I vow, such delight. 
 As to see you all squeezing to death here to-night ; 
 But attention, I pray, ^yes, let silence be heard, 
 Till Paddy endeavours to show his regard ! 
 Yet what shall I say ? I so often speak wrong, 
 Perhaps I'd speak better by holding my tongue. 
 But something I must say, to stand before you 
 To talk, and be silent, you know wou'd not do ; 
 So your patience and pardon I humbly beseech ; 
 Whene'er I begin with the end of my speech I 
 I know by your grin, 1 said something amiss, 
 Jlowsomever I'd rather you'd titter than hiss. 
 Leave that for your critics, who stick to their rules : 
 What shame that your wiseraen shou'd make themselves 
 fools !
 
 AN OCCASIONAL ADDRESS. 
 
 But I know my dear friends have more manners and 
 
 grace 
 
 And I scorn to backbite any man to his face ; 
 Long life to Shillelagh ! St. Patrick, I say, 
 Because he did drive hissing serpents away ! 
 But those who are quiet, will soon make a noi^, 
 And prove their affection with thund'ring applause- 
 Applause, which all friendship and union commands, 
 Because in the clapping, you always Jom hands. 
 Well, tho' my tongue blunders before I can speak, 
 Yet the heart of an Irishman makes no mistake ! 
 So now to my business ; I come, do you see, 
 To return you thanks for your favors to me : 
 Tho' awkward or so in my manners I prove, 
 I bear in my heart the true marks of my love ; 
 Yout Paddy assures you, he does not know how 
 To fawn and to flatter, to crhige and to bow, 
 For being an Irishman true, he confesses. 
 That ever in silence his thanks he expresses ; 
 You know the tongue's language is mixt with mucli art, 
 And will, I am sure, prefer that of the heart ! 
 Then take it for granted, that go where I will, 
 O' my conscience your Paddy remains with you still. 
 For his dear native country all homage he bears, 
 AH regard for her sons too, the brave Volunteers ;
 
 AN OCCASIONAL ADDRESS. 
 
 For the stage's champaign my heart they insphe, 
 Their favours "present and ray bosom they^re. 
 Nor shall 1 be wanting in love and affection, 
 While like fellow-soldiers you give your protection ; 
 For good-nature and valour is sljill the character 
 Of ev'ry Caesar, Alexander, and Hector. 
 But as promises never can give satisfaction 
 (The sons of Hibernia more glory in action,) 
 I shall serve and regard you as long as I've breath, 
 To live in your memory, after my death. 
 Now what shall 1 do ? I must faith go away. 
 For not a word more has poor Paddy to say ; 
 So I'll e'en take my hat off, and make you a bow ; 
 My head for your sake, shall go barefoot, I vow. 
 
 91
 
 93 
 
 THE ROYAL PROCESSION, 
 
 OR. 
 
 A PEEP FROM LUDGATE-HILL. 
 
 SPOKEN BY MB. MACREADY, AT THE ROYALTY 
 THEATRE. 
 
 To take a peep, that's all Uie world's delight,- 
 But more so now, for glorious is the sight ; 
 A nation's joy I Who'd then not lift their eyes, 
 To show their hearts are lifted to tlie skies ? 
 Peep then you may, but not like peeping Tom, 
 This is a sight, no apprehension's from. 
 Now, for the ladies, friends must places keep, 
 For ladies always foremost are to peep. 
 Miss A,^ too, writes a card to lady L, 
 Sends her best compliments, and hopes she's well, 
 Hopes she will come to see the grand procession, 
 A sight they say, which far exceeds expression. 
 Begs she will bring Miss Jane, and little Joe ; 
 Sweet souls ! they'll be delighted with the show ; 
 Some who so high as windows cannot aim. 
 And yet have longings, equally the same, 
 Resolv'd to be not in their wishes baffled, 
 Eagerly mount, with no disgrace, a scaffold !
 
 TK ROYAt. f BOCISSION. W 
 
 Others, who flock in greater numbers too, 
 Croud all the street in rows t' obtain a Tiew. 
 Deborah Short, who left her daughter Sally, 
 To rock the cradle in Shoemaker's Alley, 
 Makes haste to. peep, but being scarce four feet, 
 Has little chance now, in a crowded street ! 
 She begs a tall man, in the motley group. 
 To take his hat ofl', or in kindness stoop ; 
 
 < Verily, friend, I thmk that thou dost scoff, 
 Dost thou suppose I'd take my beav^ off 2' 
 Pat, at the Quaker's elbow squeezes in, 
 And views the lady with a fine broad grin. 
 
 < Don't scrouge the gentleman, ^be quiet, do, 
 Who'd let their head go naked, pray, for you ? 
 Ough ! you'll be trod to death, you little figure, 
 You've brought a stool, I hope, to make you bigger/ 
 Sawney, who in his wem gets a sad thrust, 
 
 Gives Pat a push, and push for push Pat must. 
 Gang to the de'il mun, here's muckle work ;' 
 
 < Oh blood and ouns ! I wish I was in Cork 1' 
 
 < Cot pless hur heart! 'a gentleman from Wales, 
 Exclaims in torture, squeez'd against the rails ; 
 
 < Oh, pie and pie, hur will pc nought put jelly, 
 Coot cot ! hur creat pig elpow's in hur pelly .' 
 Sawney who gets front row, quite pleas'd is then, 
 And enters into converse with the men ; 
 
 A very grand sight this will be 1 ken.
 
 4 THE ROYAL PnoCESSlOJf. 
 
 A bonny place I've got !' * Why faith,' says Pat, 
 
 * Upon my soul agrah you may say that ; 
 Oh ! so prodigious fine the sight will be. 
 Myself wou'd give faith both my eyes to see.' 
 The little woman, who all this while tould'nt creep 
 Into one nook, where she cou'd get a peep ; 
 
 Still muttering cries, ' You can make room, I see, 
 For that there chimney-sweep, tho' not for me I* 
 Pat tips her a sly wink, and as the fair 
 Are still an Irishman's peculiar care ; 
 
 < Come, my dear honey, then, show all your charms,' 
 And up he lifts the lady in his arms. 
 
 Now coaches drive about, the throng is such, 
 Poor Pat, and his fair partner suJffer much. 
 
 * Oh fire and faggots ! 1 am squeez'd to death. 
 Faith I will die now, if you stop my breath V 
 
 ' You'll hurt the child,' exclaims a tender nurse ; 
 I will be kilt,'' cries Pat, ' and that is worse.' 
 
 < Avast, make room,' an honest sailor begs. 
 And so all do, who see his wooden legs. 
 
 * Thanks messmates all,' he cries, ' you see as how. 
 My timbers underneath are damag'd now ; 
 
 No matter tho', 'twas in a glorious cause, 
 Where do you think ? With the brave Duncan, boys ! 
 These planks do me, they'll never run a-ground. 
 As to tli cabin of my heart, that's sound.
 
 THE ROYAL PHOCESSION. 90 
 
 Who cares for legs ? Not I, no, 'tis the foe, 
 
 Who hoard up theirs to run away you know ! 
 
 I hear we are to hoist the flag of praise, 
 
 And send to heav'n three cheers, so parson says, 
 
 And he that won't, why damn him for a log. 
 
 For my own part, I shall get drunk with grog. 
 
 He is a lubber, can to-day be sober, 
 
 For tho' December, we must drink October ; 
 
 Lower your masts, drop sails and let us see 
 
 His Majesty ! he comes ! huzza I 'tis he !' 
 
 Now flourish they their hats, their voices raise. 
 
 And with loud cheers they send to heav'n their praise. 
 
 Oh may we oft and oft with exultation. 
 
 Behold our King, upon the like occasion ! 
 
 Oh may Britannia, ever rule the main, 
 
 A match for France, for Holland, and for Spain ! 
 
 May gracious heav'n still our cause espouse, 
 
 And all be Duncans, Jerviscs, and Howes I ! !
 
 m 
 
 OCCASIONAL ADDRESS, 
 
 SPOKEN BY MR. MACEEADY, AT BIRMINGHAM. 
 
 On opening shop, the master deems it right, 
 His friends, and all the public to invite, 
 To beg their custom, in a modest way, 
 For their support and patronage to pray. 
 Thus step I forth, your kindness to implore, 
 To fill a shop you've often fill'd before ; 
 It is in pictures, that you know we deal, 
 Caricatures you find here by wholesale. 
 Nature our model, and you'll say, 1 trust, 
 That all our likenesses are strong and just ! 
 This year indeed we rather early open, 
 For Abington exhibits, whom such our hope in. 
 That 'tis presum'd, nay, you yourselves will own, 
 She's competent attraction, e'en alone, 
 For by herself she pictures all the ton ! 
 Whether gay widow or the modish wife. 
 It is confess'd that she resembles life ! 
 Others succeed, and artists all renown'd. 
 Some who already have your favor found ; 
 There's Kemble, who the passions can pourtray. 
 There's Lewis, who can represent the gay, 
 And give in lively colours, " what's to pay ?"
 
 OCCASIONAL ADDRESS. 97 
 
 There's Quick, a favorite, who from nature draws ; 
 And Palmer, who has often met applause ; 
 There's Incledon, whose Towler critics praise: 
 Be calm, my friends, and he a Storm will raise ! 
 There's sev'ral others we could add to these, 
 And chiefly Betterton, who hopes to please. 
 As for myself, I have such scenes in store. 
 As never were exhibited before ; 
 Scenes, which I hope, will give you satisfaction, 
 Tho' not in words, but told in looks and action. 
 First, there's a picture of " lU-fated Love," 
 Which connoisseurs must certainly approve ; 
 There is another, executed well, 
 A Spanish Monk, destroy'd and doom'd to hell ! 
 For to please customers, so kind and civil. 
 Who would not go, aye go faith to the devil ? 
 
 Thus, while we represent great men of old, 
 Delineate actions as in history told 
 While paint the heroes who have giv'n their blood. 
 And spurn'd at danger for their country's good. 
 We'll catch their spirit if there be occasion- 
 Like them be great and baffle an invasion ; 
 Volunteer-actors, to defend our home, 
 We'll meet the enemy whene'er they come.
 
 S8 
 
 OCCASIONAL ADDRESS. 
 
 SPOKEN BY MR. MACREADY AT THE BIRMINGHAM 
 THEATRE, 1800. 
 
 To you, each season, an address is due 
 But M ill each season fursish one lhat' new ? 
 No subject now is left for, without doubt, 
 All similes and fables are worn out. 
 Yet it is fit that 1 should something say, 
 And grateful thanks for your past favours pay. 
 But language ne'er with gratitude accords. 
 The overflowing heart cannot find words ! 
 
 Well then, since there is left no novel theme, 
 Suppose Sy/iT5^er Daggerzoood I seem ; 
 As such then, an advertisement I'll read 
 
 To all around : ( Takes out a paper and reads. ) 
 
 Variety, Lndeed!!! 
 
 Sj/hcs!er Daggerzcood begs leave to say, 
 
 I lis theatre will open with a play 
 
 The fourth of June His Majesty's birthday ; 
 
 Whom heav'n defend from the assassin's blow, 
 
 And ever shield from a malicious foe ! 
 
 As it has been so it shall be his care, 
 
 'i'hc best most favorite pieces to prepare.
 
 OCCASIONAL ADDUESS. 00 
 
 With Management he hopes to please you nov/ : 
 ' You'll take the hint," and help to-^Speedthejjlough. 
 Pardon, oh ! pardon ev'rj small transgression. 
 Should he conimit^tJe acts of Indiscretion. 
 Miss Daggerwood will be Of age to-morrow, 
 And hopes St. David's Day will banish sorrow 
 Hopes with new entertainments to content ye, 
 And prays that heav'n may send us peace and plenty ; 
 May still inspire all our theatric wits, 
 Give them full houses and ffood benefits ! 
 
 AN ADDRESS. 
 
 (written for a private theatre.) 
 
 " Most potent) grave, and reverend" critics all. 
 Let no remarks, let no rash censure fall : 
 '' My very noble and approved good" friends, 
 This gracious smile some favor sure portends. 
 That here we venture to appear again, 
 And hope some winter nights to entertain ; 
 Beginning first Avilh Shakespeare's famous i^s^^^ 
 WJio'U wlu't his knife by-and-bye " il is most true. " 
 " It is as true too," that our bill of fare, 
 \() great, no skilful Cooic doth here prepare ;
 
 100 AN ADDRESS. 
 
 Our inexperienc'd Hebrew hopes to find, 
 
 The' he is cruel, all his friends are kind ; 
 
 For tho' to cut a Christian be his whim, 
 
 He hopes no Christian here will cut up him ; 
 
 ' But why' mcthinks I hear a critic say 
 
 ' Will inexperienc'd youths pretend to play ? 
 
 ' 'Tis vile presumption, it is rash pretending' 
 
 " The very head and front of our offending 
 
 " Flas this extent No more I'm rude in speech," 
 
 And little blest with phrases to beseech ; 
 
 Or I would beg your patience, strive to show, 
 
 Who never dares, his fortune cannot know. 
 
 The glorious sun himself is not so bright 
 
 But when he has attain'd meridian height ; 
 
 And then how oft will passing clouds obscure 
 
 The luminary, otherwise so pure ? 
 
 Let your good-nature then, 1 humbly pray, 
 
 Drive all the clouds of fear and doubt away ; 
 
 Then practice to perfection may incline, 
 
 And stars which glimmer now, hereafter shine.
 
 101 
 AN OCCASIONAL ADDRESS, 
 
 SPOKEN AT A PRIVATE THEATRE. 
 
 Well, to be sure, they're pretty modem days, 
 When striplings now presume to study plays : 
 What tho' our hero often may relate 
 
 Most wonderful achievements of long date 
 
 Of vict'ries boast, which in past moons 4ie's won, 
 
 Yet ere that he was born all this was done ; 
 
 For the old soldier is 'bout twenty-one ! 
 
 Yes, friends, we cheerfully confess this truth, 
 
 That some allowance may be made for youth ! 
 
 For who can tell what he may ably do. 
 
 Until he tries before such friends as you ? 
 
 Can Rapid know till he has prov'd his lot. 
 
 Whether he has vis comica or not ? 
 
 Can Hamlet know till hearing your decree, 
 
 Whether he Ls ' to be or not to be." 
 
 Yet much I own Oh much there is to learn, 
 
 Ere just applause a candidate can earn ! 
 
 Yes, he must learn to frown, to start, to tremble ; 
 
 Raise mirth like Fawcett, or draw tears like Kembh. 
 
 But the indulgence of our friends is such. 
 
 They praise a little, and ne'er seek too much !
 
 lot OCCASIONAL ADDRESS. 
 
 They judge not here by ev'ry rigid rule, 
 
 Nor think of us as men of the old school ! 
 
 With plaudits they support our tragic queen, 
 
 And give her life in ev'ry dying scene ! 
 
 Should crooked Gloucester feel a little pain, 
 
 With your applause " Richard's himself again." 
 
 He plays the villain then without remorse, 
 
 And roars " A horse, my kingdom for a horse !" 
 
 To young beginners ever do we find, 
 
 A British audience generous and kind. 
 
 Tho' weak our efforts, and tlio' bad the best. 
 
 Of your indulgence we've a noble test ! 
 
 Soon that indulgence may our fears remove 
 
 We may grow better, doubtless will improve " 
 
 We may dare more than hitherto we durst, 
 
 For the best swimmers paddle but at first. 
 
 Let then our tragic heroes soon begin ; 
 
 Let our comedians hope to make you grin ; 
 
 Let our young Norvals fall to rise more high, 
 
 For while they've life, they'll in your service die ; 
 
 And let our ladies hope their names to raise 
 
 In all our great Fretich-English-German plays ; 
 
 In short, clap hands when any one a part takes, 
 
 For your applause is "Cure for all our Heart-aches/*
 
 103 
 OCCASIONAL ADDRESS. 
 
 SPOKEN BY MISS CARTWRIGHT AT THE LYCEUM. 
 
 'Tis Strange you'll say, that 1 should silence break, 
 H itherto dumb and now begin to speak 
 "What whispers all around, methinks I hear 
 " Who's that ?" " Miss Cartwright !" " It can't be, 
 
 my dear" 
 " Indeed it is"" Well, I protest and vow, 
 <' 1 never heard her speak before but now 
 " Her tongue can run like any other lass's : 
 " Aye quicker than her fingers on the glasses." 
 Yes great the task I own but then, the cause 
 Will, I am certain, meet with your applause ; 
 'Tis duty calls 'tis for a father's sake, 
 The task, tho' difficult, 1 undertake. 
 Says he to me (it was the other day) 
 " You must do more than on the glasses play, 
 *' You must recite and sing must strive to please ; 
 " Who knows you may improve too by degrees 
 " For, take my word I know the truth you'll find 
 " A British audience liberal and kind." 
 1 therefore come, obedient to his will, 
 Boasting more duty than theatric skill ;
 
 104; OCCASIONAL ADDRESS. 
 
 Be then indulgent, make allowance pray, 
 For, oh consider, 'tis ray first essay ; 
 And should my feeble efforts not succeed, 
 Accept the inclination for the deed. 
 
 AN ADDRESS. 
 
 INTENDED TO HAVE BEEN SPOKEN BY MISS CARTWRIGIIT. 
 
 Now summer smiles and every heart delights, 
 The cheering season now to mirth invites ; 
 Old Mr. Whim, and Mrs. Whim, his wife. 
 Wisely resolve to lead a merry life. 
 ** Lovee," the lady cries with exultation, 
 " Our Tom's come home it is the school vacation." 
 *' Ha I Tommy, kiss me, rogue how do you do ?" 
 <' Why purely, purely feyther, how be you ?" 
 " I'm glad I be at home, yes, feyther, yes ;" 
 " Oh, I don't doubt it and if right 1 guess, 
 Your master of the same is very glad 
 Convenient holidays times are so bad !" 
 *' See, Lovee, here's our daughters, Sal and Ann, 
 (Sally, hold up your head and use your fan,) 
 Husband, what do you think ? 'J'om 's wrote a poem 
 Come, show it to your father child, pr?y show him
 
 AN ADQRESS* 
 
 16B 
 
 "Well, Mr. Whim, how do you like it, pray ?" 
 The subject's excellent, I needs must say- 
 Give me the hand well-done ! he strives to sing 
 The blest escape and birthday of his King." 
 O Mr. Whim, he'll be a genius bright- 
 Why, I dare say, a comedy he'll write, 
 And introduce a ghost in a new light. 
 There 's nothing like a ghost to please the town : 
 Let but a ghost arise, and 'twill go down r 
 " What, Tom an author ? you're not serious, sure ; 
 Why don't you know that authors are all poor ?" 
 All authors poor ! Oh you mistake, my dear ; 
 For authors can produce Five Thousand a Year ? 
 And there *s the Prize, the Purse, all tokens, which 
 Declare, ray love, they know How to grow rich. 
 Yes, Tom must see a play, must see, I vow, 
 Pizarro, Management, and Speed the Plough. 
 " And me"-'' and me, mamma."-" Well, if you're 
 
 good, 
 I'll take you to the Children in the Wood: 
 We'll go and see Mj/ Grand-mother, all fivel" 
 " Your grand-mother la ! ma', is she alive ?" 
 " Pshaw ! take your daughters to a play ! for what ? 
 To teach them Indiscretion, and all that. 
 No, no, they'll learn fall time enough, good spouse, 
 The Rage, Wcnj lo get married, Lovers' Vows^ 
 
 p
 
 100 AN ADDRESS. 
 
 " Suppose then, Mr. Whim, with your permission, 
 
 Suppose Ave go to Cartwright's exhibition. 
 
 They 've advertis'd, 1 see, th' harmonious glasses, 
 
 Which, 1 am sure, will please our little lasses. 
 
 Anne has an ear for music ; yes, 'tis true, 
 
 She has an ear" " I hope, wife, she has twoT 
 
 " Yes, and she plays with glasses to some tune, 
 
 Witness, the tumblers broke this afternoon !" 
 
 " Ah Lovee, you must always have your joke ; 
 
 But, at abreaking-up, things will be broke. 
 
 Besides there 's fire-works Oh they'll charm the boy ; 
 
 Our little Tom, I know, will leap for joy." 
 
 All now agreed they 're here, I make no doubt. 
 
 This present evening Can I find them out ? 
 
 To thank them for their visit, I Avould fain ; 
 
 Hoping they '11 all be pleas'd, and come again. 
 
 For, let the young, the old, the beau, the belle comcy 
 
 Whene'er they will, they'll find a hearty welcome.
 
 107 
 
 OCCASIONAL ADDRESS. 
 
 I^BITTEN FOR A PRIVATE THEATRE ; AND SPOKEN IN 
 THE YEAR 1801. 
 
 With smiles triumphant, see Britannia here, 
 Who comes, her sons, her gallant tars, to cheer- 
 Exulting comes, and owns her present fame 
 Shall be a monument to Nelson's name. 
 But what is this, which throbs within her heart, 
 And' yields a piercing, but a pleasing smart? 
 Oh 'tis a something, not to be exprest, 
 Which glows in every honest-feeling breast 
 'Tis gratitude, which now for utterance tries- 
 Sweet sensibility without disguise ! . 
 Tho' probably disguis'fl it may appear. 
 When for a smUe, it sheds the joyful tear ! 
 Britannia'4 thanks accept then-for to you, 
 
 Oh my brave sons, a country's thanks are due. 
 
 While such commanders victory insure. 
 
 King George and his dominions are secure. 
 
 We smile at danger, enemies, and all 
 
 The impositions of a crz^ Paul. 
 
 Supported thus,' Britannia firmly stands. 
 
 And with her d(?arest relatives joins hands :
 
 108 OCCASIONAL ADDRESS 
 
 In love united, we'll for ever sing, 
 
 The general chorus of God save the King. (Music) 
 
 Supported thus, Britannia will be free, 
 
 Th' acknowledg'd mistress both of land and sea. 
 
 The land, while gallant volunteers unite ; 
 
 The sea, wliile Parkers, and such heroes fight : 
 
 While Copenhagen shrinks beneath the stroke 
 
 Of British valour of our hearts of oak. 
 
 Supported thus, all foreign pow'rs she braves ; 
 
 Supported thus, Britannia rules the waves I 
 
 OCCASIONAL ADDRESS 
 
 ON LORD NELSON'S LAST VICTORY, 
 
 SFOKEN AT A PRIVATE THEATRE, BY A GENTLEMAN IN 
 
 THE CHARACTER OF A SAILOR, NOVEBPBER 1805. 
 
 \ 
 
 With the permission of this worthy crew, 
 A Tar, do you see, would speak a w ord or two 
 No pompous language tho' no, I disdain 
 False colours, Sirs, I'm always blunt and plain. 
 But I've no news t' impart you know it well. 
 Our glorious victory I need not tell.
 
 OCCASIONAL ADDRESS. 
 
 109 
 
 In spite of France and her confederate, Spain, 
 Britannia reigns sole mistress of the main 
 And we'll support her sway while we've a hand 
 To act, aye, or a leg thereon to stand. 
 Talk of invading us poo, poo they scoff, 
 Where's their Armada ? They must put it off. 
 Now for loud cheers, my lads, and turn the night 
 To day with your illuminations bright ; 
 But no, avast ! the man whom we adore. 
 The idol of his country is no more ! 
 The brave Lord Nelson's lost for ever soft ! 
 Not lost for ever- for his soul 's aloft. 
 But lost on earth, he's left us here forlorn ; 
 And 'midst rejoicing we must also mourn : 
 An April day for tho' the sun that cheers, 
 Bums bright, the rain descends I mean our tears- 
 Aye, we must pump our eyes ; but cheerly all, 
 Let none despair, tho' briny tears may fall. 
 Inspir'd by his example there will be 
 Other brave Nelsons to command at sea. 
 Where then the fear ? Shall we not ever sing, 
 << Britannia rule the waves"" God save the King ?" 
 Aye, and we'll give the foe, should here he come. 
 Another tune I mean" Britons strike home." 
 We all will fight, nay, perish in the cause 
 Of George the Third, our country, and our laws.
 
 no 
 
 LOONY MACWOULTER'S 
 
 DESCRIPTION OF THE ILLUMINATIONS, &C. 
 
 A SONG: 
 
 INTRODUCED BY MR. JOHNSTONE IN THE MUSICAL EN- 
 TERTAINMENT OF *'THE REVIEW," AT THE THEATRE 
 ROYAL, COVENT-GARDEN. 1802. 
 
 'TwAs when General Peace had discharff'd General 
 War, 
 And the treaty began its conclusion, 
 
 A procession I saw stand before Ttemple-bar ; 
 And 'twas harmony all in confusion. 
 To make room for the ladies my elbows went then, 
 And 1 wrote a receipt on the backs of some men. 
 As I had my shillelagh instead of a pen ; 
 
 Which was flourish'd by Loony Macwoulter. 
 
 Oh the night was broad day . with the lights of the 
 town, 
 And I jump'd as one out of his skin does. 
 
 For I thought the whole world faith, was turn'd upside 
 down, 
 When I saw heav'n's lisrhls in the windows.
 
 LOONY MACWOULTER's DESCRIPTION, &C. HI 
 
 But whenever I spied any lights that were dark, 
 And thought the dear girls were in want of a spark, 
 Faith, I up with my stick, and I there left a mark ; 
 Oh the creatures bless'd Loony Macwoulter. 
 
 The Lord Mayor's, and Exchange too were aU in ablaze, 
 And I thought, o'my conscience, I felt it ; 
 
 For myself, the whole night, was as dry as you please, 
 And half of Snow-hill too was melted ; 
 The Bank was itself, faith, all glittering gold ; 
 And the Fire-office too, was the Sun to behold. 
 Oh, the violent heat gave me such a sad cold. 
 
 That a sore throat had Loony Macwoulter. 
 
 Straight round Portman-Square nOw the music they played, 
 Oh the mob and the lights were amazing 
 
 Because it was Peace, a fine riot was made. 
 And we all shut our eyes faith with gazing. 
 
 Charing-Cross and Pall-Mali could be seen out of sight ; 
 
 And as to the Strand, it was so very bright. 
 
 The Phantasmagoria couldn't be seen for the light. 
 So away trotted Loony Macwoulter. 
 
 Old Drury, that's new, was the sea upon land, 
 For a vessel stood sailing all night there ; 
 
 And sweet Covent-Garden, in Bow-Street was grand, 
 B\it the door-keepers hid the best sight there.
 
 112 LOONY MACWOULTER's DESCRIPTION, &C. 
 
 Tho' a thousand queer things in ray way there I found^ 
 Myself feith stepp'd in on the stage, safe and sound, 
 To pay my respects to the company round ; 
 Whose servant is Loony Macwoulter. 
 
 WELCOME, PEACE- 
 
 OR 
 
 A SQUEEZE AT THE ILLUMINATIONS. 
 
 AN ADDRESS, WRITTEN AT THE SAME TIME, FOR A PRI- 
 VATE THEATRE. 
 
 Now smiling Peace to merriment invites ; 
 And joy proclaims it with a thousand lights. 
 Illuminations all their force display, 
 To glad the heart, and turn the night to day. 
 At such a time, 'tis natural to meet, 
 Some of our old acquaintance in the street ; 
 Sir David Dunder Lenitive Bowkitt 
 Sylvester Daggerwood, the buskin'd wit ; 
 (A good time this to make his benefit.) 
 And lo ! he comes to see what's to be seen, 
 And to rehearse his various parts between.
 
 WELCOME. PEACE. US 
 
 Now are our brows bound with" A star ! and see, 
 
 A crown ! nice scenes for pantomime they'd be. 
 
 Our stern alarms are chang'd to merry meetings" 
 
 Curse all your hissing squibs, they're awful greetings ; 
 
 Out, out upon them" or, " if you be wise, 
 
 Send them to court"" Shoot folly as it flies." 
 
 " Grun-visag'd war" (stand back, to pass I want, 
 
 " Unraanner'd slave !") " has smooth'd its wrinkled 
 
 front ; 
 And now" (pray what's o'clock ? Damnation! go 
 Ask Mr. Tulli/, if you want to know.) 
 " And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds. 
 To fright the souls of" John and William Eades, 
 "Wax-chandlers Hum! when such the shop's Dmw. 
 
 Pers. ' 
 'Twould be extraordinary if light were scarce." 
 " Beg pardon, Sir would pass you, if you please; 
 Poor Lady Dundar cannot bear a squeeze ; 
 It makes her ready to humph, thank, thank you all- 
 How do you ? glad to see you when you call 
 We've always knives and forks at Dundar-Hall. 
 There see, my lady, what a brilliant sight ! 
 Pray whose that house that looks so very bright ?" 
 * A lott'ry -office, where 2, 5, 3, 8, 
 1 bought my Prize no, blank oh cursed fate !" 
 
 a
 
 114 WELCdME, PEACE; OR, 
 
 With these good gentry Daggerwood now mix'd, 
 
 To let them know his benefit was fix'd 
 
 When, with fine steps, Bowkitt came debonnaire, 
 
 And sent his play -bills up into the air ! 
 
 " Presumptuous villain !" giving him a kick 
 
 He could not strike, the people were so thick 
 
 This to his Capers put a sudden stop ; 
 
 And his cotilion now became a hop. 
 
 <' Oh death and hell ! my leg, my leg oh dear! 
 
 How, at the ball to-night, sball I appear ? 
 
 Oons ! 1 must figure out, unto my sorrow 
 What'U my boarding-school angels say to-morrow ?" 
 <' Gang to the deel, mun," a Scotchman says, 
 You've been sarv'd muckle right for aw your ways. 
 An you were paid, and weel desarv'd to smart. 
 That laddie, see, can act a bonny part." 
 Eh, Sir, cries Daggerwood, what do you say ? 
 Yes, I'll act Bowfl^ffr/e. Is 't a new play ? 
 Magister Lingo comes, with tumbled wig 
 " Heyday," he cries, <* here's populorum Jig 
 
 Make room for Domine Felix room I tell you." 
 ' Curse Domine Felix, and yourself too, fellow ; 
 You'll squeeze my Lady Dundar to a jelly. 
 Begone, poor fool !"- Poor fool, Sir '-I'm no ntultut ; 
 I am a scholar raasteTcwm aliis multis..
 
 A SQUEEZE AT THE ILLUMINATIONS. 115 
 
 Perhaps you think-indeed your manners show it- 
 That rm some stupid blockhead."-" Quiet-know it." 
 But now a female voice excited wonder, 
 Attacking in loud strains, Sir David Dundar. 
 < Oh you vile rogue the vilest too by far- 
 Yes, you Sir David, and you know you are 
 What, you forget me, yes, and, 1 suppose. 
 The night you kiss'd me and tore all my clothes- 
 But you must recollect that then I swore, 
 I'd tell my lady, how my clothes were tore.' 
 . Who's that ?' my lady cries.-^' Can't tell, don't know ; 
 Nor can 1 see the woman scolds me so." 
 Egad ! no wonder, for the woman so kiss'd. 
 Was but conceiv'd by a droll ventriloquist. 
 " Avast !" cries Robin, " sea-room, if you please; 
 Our harbour's Peace, and Plenty be the breeze I 
 Three cheers, my lads!" Cries Lingo, "none shall bar it: 
 I'd whip the boy, was xocatho caret .'" 
 Polydore" exclaims Sylvester to a stra.iger, 
 Our sport to-day 's much better for the danger." 
 A lady faints, whom catching in his arms. 
 He calls Monimia, and adores her charms. 
 " Where am I ? surely Paradise is near : 
 Sweets planted by the hand of heav'n grow here ; 
 And every place is full" Faith, so it is 
 Oh that my Pit may be as full as this I"
 
 116 WELCOME, PEACE ; OR, 
 
 <* What ho ! apothecary !" he appears, 
 
 And Dr. Lenitive the lady cheers. 
 
 'Tis a slow pulse, and therefore he proposes 
 
 Some gentle med'cines half-dozen doses. 
 
 ** Throw physic to the dogs," the actor cries ; 
 
 *' Yes, if 2, 5, 3, 8 had been a prize. 
 
 Oh for ^10,000, then I'd be able, 
 
 To throw it to the dogs, or to dog Label. 
 
 But now, I keep my coat, my wig, my hat, 
 
 For 'twas a blank." " There was a time for that," 
 
 (Replies the actor with affected sorrow.) 
 
 "> To-monow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, 
 
 Then, thou art ruin'd." Yes faith, to my grief," 
 
 ' This very night". Zounds ! where's ray handkerchief? 
 
 ^' My pocket-handkerchief ^stole as I live) 
 
 Did an Egyptian to my mother give ; 
 
 And it has been, aye, for these many years, 
 
 Receptacle for all our tragic tears. 
 
 Damn it, it's gone^ pray can you tell me who 
 
 Performs the part of Filch I wish I knew. 
 
 'Twas mine, 'tis his (but I must weep no more) 
 
 And may be slave to thousands as before." 
 
 " Here Domine, Domine" cries Mr. Lingo, 
 
 " Bibe a little of my active stingo. 
 
 JRecte, that's right, be all alive and hearty ; 
 
 Act a good part, my boys, cum bond parte, ":
 
 A SQUEEZE AT THE ILLUMINATIONS. 117 
 
 I'll give a toast a toast none can deny us 
 Here's Rex Britanniarum, and that's Georgius 
 Bella, horrida bella! ever cease ; 
 Secula seculorum be our Peace ! 
 United all oh ! may we never sever ; 
 But be conjunctions copulative for ever ! 
 
 BRITISH PATRIOTISM; 
 
 OR, 
 
 WHO'S AFRAID ? 
 
 8P0KEN BT MRS. DELPINI, IN THE CHARACTER OF A 
 SAILOR, AT THE THEATRE ROYAL, HAYMARKET. 
 
 Now France presumes Old England to invade ; 
 Consummate arrogance '.but Who's Afraid ? 
 Would Britons, think they, live to see the day, 
 When they should bear a proud usurper's sway ? 
 No ; liberty has ever been their pride, 
 And may the love of freedom ne'er subside ; 
 May loyalty be never out of fashion. 
 But amor patriae be the ruling passion !
 
 Ijfll BRITISH PATBI0TI9MJ 
 
 Of feeling full, and of that feeling proud^ 
 
 Methinks an lionest tar now cries aloud, 
 
 < What, do they mean to sink us to coadenm 
 
 Our Royal George no damn me, we'll sink them. 
 
 I tell you what, French lubbers, you may try. 
 
 But hearts of oak your timbers still defy. 
 
 What timbers ? oh flat-bottoni'd boats you say ; 
 
 Flat-bottom'd boats, and what the deuce are they ? 
 
 Why rafts, for a whole army to come over ; 
 
 Which, by accounts, wiU half the ocean cover. 
 
 Avast ! don't think to take up half the sea, 
 
 We're masters of the WHOLE, and still will be. 
 
 I guess the sort of boats to be employed - 
 
 The bottoms, let me see, are wide and broad ; 
 
 Yes, broad and wide, that you may take long strides ; 
 
 But your broad-bottom'd boats shall have broad-sides. 
 
 Oh, I forgot, flat-bottom'd boats you call them ; 
 
 And faith, the name foretels what will befal them. 
 
 For all who'll venture m them, will, I know. 
 
 Be downTight/a^5, who'll to the bottom go. 
 
 But that, perhaps, is what your pilot prays. 
 
 For I know somewhat of his little ways ; 
 
 Better, he thinks, his men at sea should sink, 
 
 Than stay at home the poison'd cup to drink. 
 
 Fye, he does nothing openly on deck, 
 
 But under hatches meditates a wreck.
 
 OR, who's afhaid? 
 
 119 
 
 Would Britons change tiieir birtli to be us'd thus ? 
 No, little En^and as sh is, for us ; 
 Where honour, generosity abound ; 
 Where contributions raise for us a iund ! 
 
 So, do you see, if you're for crowing sail, 
 
 I tell you, all yoair tigging won't avail ; 
 
 We're steady b&ys, yes steady, who's aftaid ? ehl 
 
 Such as the Spanish, be this French trmafZa.' 
 
 The valiant soldier mow methinks I hear, 
 
 The son of Mars, iV intrepid Volunteer. ^ 
 
 * Aye, let them come, how and Whene'er tiey please, 
 
 We'll to the right, but they shan't stand at ease. 
 
 Should they, by accident, escape our lieet. 
 
 We'll teach them the quick step and the retreat ; 
 
 We'll call to mind, what now, they may forget. 
 
 How by our arras th' invincibles were beat.' 
 
 What says John Bull, who 's 'bove disguise and art ? 
 
 I readily can read his honest heart : 
 
 < The Frenchmen-see our happiness with grief, 
 
 They envy us our freedom and roast beef. 
 
 Invade, forsooth-no, no-not yet, 1 hope; 
 
 Tho' single-handed, we with France can cope. 
 
 So tell your worthy Consul that he may, 
 
 Soon as he will, his promis'd visit pay ; 
 
 But then, his promises he ne'er fulfils ; 
 
 Pay us a visit'. let him paj/ his bills.
 
 120 BRITISH PATRIOTISM, &C. 
 
 Now in the name of our united nation, 
 
 Do I, John Bull, give France an invitation ; 
 
 Come when you please, that all the world may see, 
 
 We Englishmen do glory to be free. 
 
 Britons, strike home, strike home as heretofore,. 
 
 Let present deeds recal the days of yore ; 
 
 Like your forefathers, be alert and brave. 
 
 Your wives, your children, property to save ! 
 
 For such a triOf where's the man won't fight, 
 
 The man that won't contribute all his might ? 
 
 A greater Three demand that contribution, 
 
 Your King, your Country, and your Constitution.
 
 121 
 
 SONG. 
 
 <UHG by MR. TRUEMAN, AT THE THEATRE-ROYAL, HAY- 
 MARKET, IN A sailor's character. 
 
 (the Music by Mr. Attwood.) 
 
 Old Time will never anchor castj 
 
 Let winds blow as they may ; 
 He still pursues his voyage fast, : 
 
 And bids us pull away. 
 He disregards or calms or storms. 
 
 Each moment gives a lift ; 
 And 'midst the wrecks that he performs, 
 
 The old are sent a-drift^ 
 
 Since, then, old Captain Time commands 
 
 So many leagues a-day ; 
 'Tis fit, that he should pipe all hands, 
 
 And punish for delay. 
 Then pull away ; keep Time in tow. 
 
 Or Time will surely ride ; 
 And with Death's galley slaves below, 
 
 AVe'll sink by the next tide.
 
 122 
 
 SONG. 
 
 SUNG BY MR. 8UEtT, AT THE THEATBE-ROYAL, HAY- 
 MAEKET, IN THE CHARACTER OF A TAYLOR. 
 
 {The Music hy Mr. Attwood.) 
 1. 
 
 How many Patterns for a wife, 
 
 Are shewn us by the Ladies ; 
 The superfine are in hi^h life, 
 
 Where Fashion ready-made is. 
 The Jilt is but a second cloth ; 
 
 The Termagant, a coarse one ; 
 At Smithfield Sale, I'd take my oath, 
 
 You could not meet a worse one. 
 
 2. 
 
 The old maid 's threadbare let her pass 
 
 For no one can extol her : 
 Tho' well made up the painted lass 
 
 Is stuff that changes colour : 
 The flirt is foUow'd, there's no doubt. 
 
 So let her e'en be some one's ; 
 She'll help the lawyers to cut out 
 
 A suit for Doctor's-Commons.
 
 songs; 
 
 123 
 
 3. 
 The wife that to my board I'll take, 
 Shall ne'er have goose or basting ; 
 But, neat and smart must be her make, 
 
 Her love of everlasting ! 
 Oi Abraham Newland's stuff, so fine, 
 
 Her pockets must be made up ; 
 His little ONES will serve for mme. 
 As cabbage, to be laid up. 
 
 AN IRISH SONG ; 
 
 UNG BY MISS CARTWRIGHT, AT THE LYCEUM. 
 
 (The Music hi/ Mr. Moorhead.) 
 
 Pr AY what 's a man like in a passion ? 
 
 A tyrant a fury a foe ; 
 What like, when he's drest in the feshion ? 
 
 Why, then like a monkey a show. 
 What like, when he's cross and uncivil? 
 
 A tyger and more too than that ; 
 A bear hasty-pudding a devd 
 A weathercock lion a cat.
 
 124 BONGS. 
 
 If mankind we ever give way to, 
 
 He 's then, like a crab-apple, sour j 
 But, most like a mealy potatoe. 
 
 If ever good-liumour'd an hour. 
 A lover, and talking his nonsense, 
 
 He 's then like a fool like an ass 
 Like nothing at all, on my conscience, 
 
 Except like himself in a glass. 
 
 Pray, what is he like, when he 's jealous ? 
 
 The tempest the ocean the wind ; 
 Like Argus, who, as poets tell us, 
 
 Had eyes both before and behind : 
 Sliould jealousy e'er come to something, 
 
 For jealousy ev'ry wife scorns ; 
 Why, then he is like a poor dumb thing, 
 
 Or like a wild monster with horns. 
 
 He is most like a serpent, whenever 
 
 He strives, like a fiend, to trepan ; 
 But, oh ! like a hero, that's clever. 
 
 Whenever he acts like a man I 
 He's like no, unlike human nature, 
 
 When foe to his king he appears ; 
 But, oh ! he is like a good creature, 
 
 Who, in his defence, volunteers.
 
 125 
 
 AN IRISH LADY 'S DESCRIPTION OF A MAS, 
 QUERADE. 
 
 UNG BY MISS CARTWRIGHT5 AT THE LYCEUM, 
 1.. 
 
 A Masquerade, 
 
 Myself did visit ; 
 A part I play'd, 
 
 You ask, what is it ? 
 I chose, my dear. 
 Disguised t' appear, 
 
 As Widow Brady ; 
 And, what is strange too, 
 Myself did change to 
 
 An Irish Lady. 
 
 There were Turks, and Grecians, 
 Kings and Queens ; 
 
 All occupations ; 
 Belles and beaux. 
 And lords with fine clothes, 
 
 Beautiful sights ! beautiful scenes ! 
 
 Such was the noise, 
 
 The voice was smother'd ;
 
 125 soNas. 
 
 With girls and boys, 
 
 Myself was bother'd ; 
 The Quacks bragg'd loud, 
 And brought a croud 
 
 'Twas all a riot ; 
 And then the witches, 
 Did cause such screeches^ 
 
 That none were quiet. 
 There were Turks, &c. 
 
 3. 
 Some Christians, too. 
 
 Were Jews, my jewel j 
 And, all 1 knew, 
 
 Their parts did do well. 
 And there were beaux, 
 With pucker'd clothes, 
 
 And belles, who sported 
 Their hearts before 'em, 
 With such decorum, 
 They all were courted ! 
 
 There were Turks, &;c. 
 
 4. 
 
 Now, in their best. 
 Were belles (I take it)
 
 SONGS. 
 
 m 
 
 And, all ftdl drest, 
 Because half naked. 
 
 Oh, honey ! there 
 
 Was Venus feur, 
 Who all eclipses ; 
 
 And there were reapers. 
 
 And chimney-sweepers. 
 And little gipsies. 
 
 There were Turks, &c. 
 
 MRS. O' FLAHERTY'S OPINION OF A MACA- 
 RONI. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Of all the characters that boast. 
 
 Of various names, I'll tell you what, 
 
 A Macaroni changes most. 
 
 He 's alias this, and alias that. 
 
 For when, my dear, he'd fashion sport. 
 And be what 's styled a tast^ crop ; 
 
 The Macaroni'' quite the sort," 
 Is alias, then oh, faith ! a fop.
 
 IS8 SONOg. 
 
 And when, my dear, in dress he 'd shine, 
 And nice half boots with tassels show ; 
 
 The Macaroni is so fine 
 He 's alids, then oh, feith ! a beau ! 
 
 When, for a sweetheart, fain he'd try. 
 And make the ladies all admire ; 
 
 The Macaroni soars so high 
 He's alias then oh, faith ! a squire ! 
 
 When married, and he 's so absurd, 
 To contradict the wisest men : 
 
 In speaking 'fore he says a word 
 He 's alidsy faith, a coxcomb, then. 
 
 Oh, troth ! my jewel, well I know. 
 That poor Mac '5 names will never stop 
 
 He 's alias coxcomb alias beau 
 And, alias squire, and alias fop.
 
 iS9 
 
 THADY'S ENCOMIUMS ON WHISKEY. 
 A SONG. 
 
 With -whiskey, the boys of sweet Dublin are fed : 
 
 Sing faranana. 
 'Tis that gives them life, be they ever so dead ; 
 For when down the throat, oh, it 's up in the head ! 
 
 With my faranana, &c. 
 2. 
 'Tis charming old whiskey enlivens the dull ; 
 
 Sing, &c. 
 It makes a fool wise, tho' of emptiness full : 
 But the head, that can't bear it, is, faith ! a numskull. 
 
 With my, &c. 
 3. 
 *Tis whiskey gives motion to tongue, and to heel ; 
 
 Sing, &c. 
 It makes the eyes dance in the head, a good deal ; 
 And, if you can'fe>jig it, oh ! you 're sure of a. reel. 
 
 With my, &c. 
 4. 
 It runs down my throat, and I never cry Stop : 
 
 Sing, &c. 
 J^yself couldn't stand straight, if 1 had not a drop, 
 And, though stagger I may, oh ! it still is my prop. 
 
 With my, &c. 
 
 8
 
 ]30 soNdis. 
 
 Whiskey taught me to spell, or I tell a big lie ; 
 
 Sing, &c. 
 For the letters so little, myself could not spy, 
 Till a glass, by my soul, made them all six feet high ! 
 
 With my, &c, 
 
 . ' ' ififi! ^t I 
 
 'Twas whiskey, that taught me to write, you must know ; 
 
 Sing, &c. 
 For after a drop, my right hand flourish'd so^ . . , 
 
 I could make crooked S, or a thumping round O. 
 
 With my, &c. 
 
 If the river of water was whiskey to drink, '^ 
 
 Sing, &c. 
 'Stead of swimmmg it over, myself would, I think, 
 (To see it all out) to the bottom, faith, sink. 
 
 With ray, &c.
 
 131 
 
 LOVE, AN AIR BALLOON. 
 .1 AN IRISH SONG. 
 
 < .: ..ihr.,.}.. ^ii' '' '> 1. ' 
 Oh, Love is tlrc^^Ya ! thfe devil, undoubtedly, 
 
 Both'ring us ever, night, morning, and noon ; 
 The heart it so swells, faith ! withpains, which about it lie. 
 
 What's it so like, pray, as like a baUoon ? 
 With me, when 'tis filling, oh ! scarcely 1 am able, 
 
 Either to kneel down, or talk to the fair ; ^^ 
 The air that 's within me, I swear is inflammable. 
 Taking my senses St. Patrick knows where ! 
 2. ' 
 The ways of a lover, by no means, are feasible, 
 Absent, tho' present alone, in a crowd 1 
 ' You never can see him, but when he's invisible, 
 Like a Lunardi wrapt up in a cloud. 
 His sighs and palaver for ballast he 's throwing out, 
 
 High, in opinion, he then must ascend ; 
 But, when the gas fails him, and passion is going out, 
 Tumble down, Lover ! for there is an end, 
 3. 
 This air-balloon Love is, what Cupid, a boy, above, 
 
 For his diversion contriv'd, as they say ; 
 And such arc the raptures, oh ! such is the joy of Love, 
 Devil take him, whom it takes not away !
 
 132 <. 
 
 So high Fancy soare now, we 're carried already to 
 Jericho WaterfordMunster Quebec ; 
 
 The parachute then, is the hand of the Lady, who 
 Fastens a noose for the sake of our neck ! 
 
 O'BLARNEY^S THE DANDY-O. 
 
 A SONG. 
 
 1. 
 
 Myself, when I came 
 
 F rom a country erf" fame, 
 
 Tipperaryby name, 
 Ixwk'd about for a saroice here 3 
 
 In hopes I might thumb 
 
 A good round paper-sum, 
 
 For if poverty come, 
 ft is sure for to starve us here ! 
 
 The first mistress I had, 
 
 By my soul ! she was glad 
 
 To have such a tight lad, 
 For O'Blamey 's the dandy-o :
 
 80NG. 
 
 m 
 
 But then, what do you think ? 
 She ax'd, did I love drmk ? 
 So 1 tipp'd her a wink, 
 And then tipp*d off her brandy-o. 
 
 Who, so ready is, 
 As your Thady is. 
 When a lady is 
 
 For a stilish mail ? 
 All ability, 
 Sweet civility. 
 Neat gentility 
 
 That's an Irishman! 
 
 My next mistress was 
 A true mistress, because 
 She gave lessons and laws. 
 
 To a set of young misses-o ; 
 I, shewing my art. 
 As I'd always a part 
 Of love's lessons by heart, 
 
 Taught a chapter of kisses-o ; 
 So, with one of those dears j 
 Faith ! in love, it appears, 
 Thady fell, head and ears J 
 
 Anddetermin'd to have her too ;
 
 134 ION68. 
 
 Oh ! I dropp'd on my knees, 
 And her fist I did squeeze, 
 Roaring out Grammachreesy 
 And all kind of palaver, too. 
 
 Who so ready is, &c. 
 
 To Fortune good thanks ! 
 1 have liv'd with all ranks, 
 And follow'd my pranks, 
 
 Being seldom at home a day ; 
 I never fall short 
 Of a little good sport, 
 For myself am the sort 
 
 For a bit of a comedy I 
 
 With a message I skip, 
 Or a love-letter tip. 
 And the answer too, slip 
 
 With an air all so handy-o ; 
 
 When a wife, 'spite of vows, 
 Is for decking the brows, 
 Of an old idle spouse, 
 
 Then O'Blarney 's the Dandy-o. 
 
 Who so ready is, &c. 
 
 p f; i
 
 tm 
 
 \^ 
 
 .r-*!ir 
 
 THE IRISHMAN'S VISIT 
 
 TO THE 
 
 ^'llSTmbitE GIRL. 
 
 A SONG. 
 
 They talk of a secret Miss, 
 
 Whose tongue is always ffiady ; 
 
 And what a fine sight it is 
 To see the Invisible Lady. 
 
 K-r 
 
 So I went to behold her sweet voice, 
 'Cause all the nation about her rung ; 
 
 But, honey ! if 1 had my choice, 
 
 I 'd have the lady without her tongue. 
 
 lier clapper fine noise did make, 
 
 Kor did it want assistance ; 
 But all the lasses can speak, 
 
 Many you Ul hear at a distance. 
 
 Their pictures, alone, I would see, 
 
 Filling the heart with love's purity ; 
 No lady a show then can be. 
 Who 's onl^r seen in ohscurit;y. 
 3. 
 Sure, now, I ax'd for a kiss ; 
 
 < Take it," cried she, " you noddy !"
 
 ]55 flONCS. 
 
 Myself turn'd about at this, 
 But, faith I I could see nobody. 
 
 Why, Mrs. whatever *s your name, 
 
 Kitty, or Judy, or Isabel ; 
 ^how your face, if you wish for more fame. 
 And let your voice be invisible. 
 
 PAT CASEY'S SWEETHEARTS. 
 A SONG. 
 
 To tell you the names 
 Ofall the sweet dames, 
 
 Whom I've been oblig'd to attend i 
 Would make, faith ! a list, 
 As big as my fist, 
 Without a beginning or end ; 
 There's Winny, and Jenny, 
 And Molly, and Polly, 
 Dear Margery, Lucy, and Nan ; 
 There's Catty, and Patty, 
 And Norah, and Flora, 
 All say, that Pat Casey 's the man.
 
 soNgs. 
 
 137 
 
 2. 
 
 To go more astray, 
 
 I soon found the way, 
 For many the sweethearts for me : 
 
 So constant and brave, 
 
 Myself was a slaVe, 
 But the devil a slave was more free. 
 
 There's Winny, &c. 
 3. 
 
 Once, to an old maid, 
 
 I modestly said, 
 Her ringlets a goddess would rig ; 
 
 Then begg'd of the fair, 
 
 A lock of her hair, 
 15ut, unluckily, puU'd off her wig. 
 
 Theh Winnj^ and Jenny, 
 And Molly, and Polly, 
 
 Dear Margery, Lucy, and Nan ; 
 With Norah, and Flora, 
 And Catty, and Patty, 
 
 PuU'd caps for their own Irishman.
 
 138 
 
 LIFE, A PACK OF CARDS. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Tins life, mcthinks, the ards display, 
 For, like mankind, indeed, are they ; 
 
 The folk, good lack ! 
 
 Are all a packy 
 Who shujffJey cut, and deal, and play. 
 
 In ev'ry knave you see the rake. 
 
 Who'll play the deuce, his queen forsake ; 
 
 But, in Love's game, 
 
 They 're much to blame, 
 Who don't give hearts for those they take. 
 
 Beware of such, I pray then do 
 Or, giddy fair ones, you may rue ; 
 
 Your honor won 
 
 What can be done ? 
 Beggar my neighbom must ensue. 
 
 The little child, at all fours, stays ; 
 Upgrown 'tis Commerce then he plays ; 
 
 Old Age creeps on 
 
 His speech is gone 
 'Tis fVhist all his remaining days.
 
 SONGS. 
 
 139 
 
 By Court Cards fashion is display' d ; 
 To Diamonds all the honors' paid ; 
 
 The Club of Death 
 
 Knocks out the breath, 
 Then Spades turn wp the grave is made. 
 
 MATRIMONY. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 TUNE fDiS^m's Tinker.) 
 
 Methinks, ev'ry lad, 
 
 For wedlock is mad, 
 There's something in't so funny ; 
 
 The lasses, oh, dear ! 
 
 Quite squeamish appear 
 'Tis all for Matrimony. 
 Want you a husband, fair, for life 
 Take care he don't perplex you ; ' 
 And if, good Sir, you take a wife, 
 She may with something vex you. 
 
 With similes great, 
 Some say it 's a state 
 i^ike lott'ries blanks and prizes !
 
 140 SONGS. 
 
 So often we meet, 
 The sour and the sweet, 
 Tliat Punchy I think, more wise is. 
 
 Want you a husband, &c. 
 
 The strong and the weak. 
 Together partake, 
 Like punch the spirit he is 
 And no woman can 
 Exist without man 
 So weak as water she is. 
 
 Want you a husband, &c. 
 
 What acid 's in strife. 
 When lie to his wife 
 
 Does, prompted by old Davy, 
 With a cudgel come, 
 As thick as his thumb, 
 
 And makes her cry Peccani ! 
 
 Want you a husband, &c. 
 
 Sweet, and sour, we find 
 In Punch always join'd ; 
 
 So here they often mingle ; 
 For honey she 's all. 
 To banish his gall. 
 
 Whene'er his horns may tingle. 
 
 Want you a husband, &c.
 
 SONGS. 
 
 You see in my song, ^ 
 
 The weak, and the strong, 
 
 You see the gall and honey ; 
 While some do record, 
 (Compounding the word) 
 
 'Tis all a Matter'O-money . 
 
 Want you a husband, fair, for life ? 
 
 Take care he don't perplex you ; 
 And if, good Sir, you take a wife, 
 
 She may with something vex you. 
 
 141 
 
 LARRY'S SUPPLICATION. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Oh ! Molly, be tender and civil. 
 
 And, angel-like, play the good part ; 
 
 For, late, you've been playing the devil, 
 
 With the thing in my breast call'd the heart. 
 
 Let's wed, without any more bother, 
 And kiss without any more fuss ; 
 For did the good woman, your mother. 
 Your father keep tarrying thus ?
 
 142 so^OB. 
 
 Remember, my dear, dearest jewel, 
 
 That Larry may soon change his mind : 
 
 Myself, like yourself, may be cruel, 
 Then, honey ! no sweetheart you'll find. 
 
 If Cupid had been after playing 
 With you, as he has been with me ; 
 
 The devil a bit of delaying, 
 
 Without making haste, would there be. 
 
 SOMETHING NEW. 
 
 A SONG INTENDED FOR MISS CARTWRIGHT. 
 1. 
 
 Novelty has charms, they say, 
 
 Something new delights us all ; 
 Fashion proves it every day, 
 
 At the play-house, rout, and ball. 
 Sweet variety to boast, 
 
 Dramatists new thoughts pursue : 
 Enter now a singing ghost, 
 
 By the way of something new.
 
 SONGS 
 
 143 
 
 2. 
 Once Melpomene appear'd, 
 
 But her tears didn't please us long ; 
 Then, with smiles, Thalia cheer'd, 
 After her came Dance and Song : 
 Now fine pageantry succeeds, 
 
 Now processions grand we view ; 
 Enter Elephants and Steeds, 
 By the way of something new. 
 3 
 During Fashion's fickle reign, 
 
 What attraction shall 1 use ; 
 Here we boast no glitt'ring scene, 
 
 To set off a German Muse : 
 Yet to sing to play, alone 
 
 By myself a part go thro' ; 
 Is a novelty, you '11 own, 
 
 Andj may pass for something new.
 
 144 
 
 AN IRISH SONG ; 
 TUNE The Black Joke^ 
 
 Oh, faith ! by the ladies themselves 'tis confest, 
 An Irishman only can make love the best, 
 
 Such his sweet brogue, and figure so smart ! 
 'Tis he that can whisper the tenderest sighs, 
 He never wants words, for he speaks with his eyes ; 
 And if but one night his respects he should pay. 
 The devil an angel but surely must say. 
 
 He's a tight lad who tickles each heart. 
 
 'Tis beauty, oh, dear ! plays the devil with me, 
 I'm ready to die, when my sweethearts 1 see, 
 
 With their black eyes, and beautiful feet : 
 How great is my pleasure, how great my delight, 
 To spend half a day with such darlings all night ! 
 For when I'm exchanging with them hearty smacks, 
 This heart, faith and troth ! melts away then like wax. 
 
 At their soft lips, and dimples so sweet ! 
 
 Among the dear creatures so great is my fame, 
 That speaking of Casey they add to his name, 
 Pat 's a dear boy oh, Pat 's a sweet rogue ! 
 And when 1 make love, every soul of them says^ 
 No man talking nons-nse such wisdom display?^.
 
 soxGs. 145 
 
 So faith all the lovers who're not Irishmen, 
 Shou'd to Ireland go, and be born there again, 
 Learn its sweet ways and chajmuig sweet broo-ue. 
 
 PEG OF CRANBOURNE ALLEY. 
 
 SONG. (Tune. Sfl//^ of our Alley.) 
 Written for Mr. Delpini. 
 I MET a fair the other night, 
 
 With whom I stopp'd to dally, 
 She said, if I remember right, 
 
 She liv'd in Cranboume Alley ! 
 Let others smg of Richmond Hill, . 
 
 The lilies of the valley, 
 The river Tweed, and Pentonville,^ 
 
 I'll sing of Cranbourne Alley. 
 
 I touch'd her lips, so sweet and nice, ^ 
 I touch'd- don't think I rally,. 
 
 I touch'd such bliss, 'twas Paradise, 
 Tho' 'twas in Cranbourne Alley ! 
 
 Let others sing of Richmond's Lass, 
 Of Crazy Jane, and Sally, 
 
 Their beauty never can surpass 
 
 t Peg's of Cranbourne Alley. 
 
 WCr 
 
 U
 
 14ti 
 THE TIGHT IRISH LAD. 
 
 A SONG. 
 
 Oh when I left Ireland, that sweet little place, 
 
 And came here to London, so merry and glad, 
 No sooner the girls saw the brogue on my face, 
 
 Than whispering, they cried, there's a tight Irish 
 lad; 
 And then I so talk'd with my love-making eyes. 
 
 That soon the dear creatures were all fill'd with joy ; 
 I utter'd so loud, all my soft languishing sighs,/ 
 
 The tight Irish lad was a favourite boy. 
 
 My fame stood so well, it ran all o'er the town. 
 
 The devil an angel but quickly was had ; 
 Acquainted was I, where I never was known, 
 
 And all by the name of the tight Irish lad. 
 This heart so much courtship had now upon hand, 
 
 That idleness, faith, was my only employ ; 
 But then so obedient to all love's command, 
 
 The tight Irish lad was a favourite boy. 
 
 One summer, I happen'd to pull a fair rose, 
 And promis'd her marriage, because she was sad ; 
 
 The secret to Phoebe she needs must disclose, 
 
 Aud so they puU'd caps for their tight Irish lad !
 
 soNfts. 147 
 
 I told the dear lasses, this never wou'd do, 
 Contention, all harmony needs must destroy, 
 
 Be quiet, and 1, for your sakes, will be two, 
 Your tight Irish lad, and ?/our favourite boy. 
 
 THE FAN. 
 A SONG. 
 
 Of all the inventions, tho' tritling indeed, 
 
 That ever were thouglit on by man, 
 Sure nothing cou'd e'er for its service exceed 
 
 That sweet little thing call'd tlie Fan. 
 For oh 'tis the Fan, yes, the sweet little Fan, 
 
 By which ev'ry passion's exprest, 
 Therewith any lady undoubtedly can, 
 
 Her pleasure or anger attest. 
 
 Suppose, at a distance we're anxious to keep 
 
 The lover who fain wou'd trepan, 
 And at the same time, are desirous to peep, 
 
 Pray cafi't mc do boh Avith tlie Fan ? 
 
 For oh 'tis the Fan, &c
 
 148 SONGS. 
 
 I ' I I I I' ' ",' ' \ l "H' 
 
 We now, unabash'd, can a suitor receive, 
 
 His merits in secresy scan ; 
 And i^we don't like him, we surely can give 
 
 A smart reprimand with the Fan. 
 
 For oh 'tis the Fan, &c. 
 
 For speaking whatever we fain wou'd disclose, 
 
 Indeed 'tis an excellent plan, 
 And certain I am, there's no lady but knows 
 
 The best way to manage her Fan. 
 
 For oh 'its the Fan, &c. 
 
 Its exercise never yet fail'd to inspire. 
 But still with the wish always ran ; 
 
 Then, ladies, make ready, present now and fire, 
 You'll wound ev'ry heart with the Fan. 
 
 For oh 'tis the Fan, &c. 
 
 PAT'S REMARKS ON THE THREATENED 
 
 INVASION. 
 
 Jl Parodjj on Dihdw''s Poor Jack. 
 
 They think us spalpeens or big fools I suppose, 
 Who talk of invasion and stuff, 
 . Oh faith, if French enemies here show their nose, 
 We'll give them gunpowder for snuff.
 
 SONGS,, -J]JP 
 
 Tho' in the attempt they must prove they Ve no head, 
 
 We'll bother both sides of the ear ! 
 We'll make them a present of mighty good lead, 
 
 For which they shall think they've paid dear, 
 'Tis England, and Scotland, and dear Ireland's pride, 
 
 United for ever to be, 
 And there's blessed St. Patrick, with one at each side. 
 
 To keep watch for the fame of all three. 
 
 Do the French think to steal a march over the main, 
 
 Without a kind broadside or two ? 
 Oh faith they'll be seen, by our sailors quite plain, 
 
 All the while they keep out of their view ! 
 Of but little service their rafts will be then, 
 
 Except they can carry them back ; 
 Methinks they'll he pleasure boats, for our brave men, 
 
 Who'll make them to dance with a whack ! 
 Our kingdom united,_they ne'er shall divide, 
 
 And that to their cost they shall sec, 
 For there's blessed St. Patrick, and one at each side, 
 To keep watch for the fame of all tm r e k . 
 
 I said to poor Judy,-quite sad because how. 
 
 We'd only been married one day ; 
 And she thought if these fellows shou'd visit us now. 
 
 Her Pat wou'd be going away !
 
 -150 H6-ftG9, 
 
 Be easy, de^r soul, when it's war, be at peace,* 
 
 For where is the use of click-clack ? 
 The devil a Frenchman will let's see his face, 
 
 Except 'tis to show us his back ! 
 Ere Pat they shall tear from his own turtle-dovR, 
 
 A little Pat first there shall be, 
 And there's blessed St. Patrick, my namesake abote. 
 
 Will keep watch for the life of all thieb. 
 
 With Nelsons and Parkers, such lads of our fleet, 
 
 Our foes stand a very poor chance, 
 But suppose tiiera on shore, ^by the pow'rs ! they'll meet 
 
 Volunteers who will teach them to dance. 
 To be sure, my own self won't assistance then lend, 
 
 And shew them a little fair play ; 
 My king and my country, and love to defend, 
 
 Oh faith I will lather away ! 
 Because for his king, for his country and love, 
 
 No man cou'd a woman e'er be, 
 While there's blessed St. Patrick, and others above, 
 
 To assist in the cause of all three.
 
 MISCELLANIES.
 
 153 
 LINGO TO COWSLIP. 
 
 A POETIC EPISTLE. 
 
 I WRITE to Cowslip, where cor meumjacet. 
 
 Then lege^ my ador'd, si tibi placet : 
 
 Mad with love's pangs, I scribbled to assuage 'em 
 
 I must, tiecessitas non habet legem! 
 
 Give me a smile, to say that you approve, 
 For why D'ativo caret, when I love ? 
 'Tis Lingo sequitur like Sol who bums, 
 Heu mihi ! till my Cowslip dear returns. 
 All love, for thee, I'd evermore decline, 
 Tho' Amor Patrice be most divine ! 
 That love pro bono publico is shown, 
 
 But mine pro bond Cowslip is, alone. 
 
 For ever do I wish, and sigh, and pray, 
 
 Your optative admirer evhy day. 
 
 O miserere mei ! 'tis a story. 
 
 To say I'm old, or a memento mori; 
 
 If so, to wed, I shou'd not be so bold, 
 
 For never shou'd the young be join'd with th' old ; 
 
 'Tis n false concord, and must never be; 
 
 But mark the caseVm young, and govern thee. 
 
 Spes made me scribere,~VA not appear, 
 
 To have the utmost particle of fear ; 
 
 X
 
 154 LINGO TO COWSLIP, 
 
 As you're the fairest 1 have ever socn, 
 
 Have 1 not plac'd you 'fore the Cyprian queen, 
 
 And ergo, hope xh\& preposition will 
 
 Make Cowslip love me, and not wish me ill. 
 
 I'm not so singular, but I wou'd wed, 
 
 To have the plural number in my bed ; 
 
 With thee, who art so handsome, neat and slepder, 
 
 The optima of all \\\e feminine gender, 
 
 For a conjunction copulative I sigh, 
 
 Till we engender, ff/ est, multiply. 
 
 As a noun adjective, so restless grown, 
 
 Per Ilerculem! I cannot stand alone ! 
 
 But if we're married, as I hope we'll be, 
 
 Tho' man and wife, for eyer we'll agree; 
 
 For I will love you, love you bondjide, 
 
 From every Saturday to every Friday. 
 
 Nosce teipse did the wise man say, 
 
 I know myself for ever thine each day ; 
 
 My soul, my heart, to thee I all resigrt, 
 
 r/^ ea nostra roco, they are thine, 
 
 Then will you wed ? Say yes, and don't perplex ;- 
 
 No is the lapsus linguce of your sex ; 
 
 Pray lay the little negative aside, 
 
 And be y owe pauper Lingo's lawful bride, 
 
 Then teneatis risum, O amici ?^ 
 
 How lik^ a Cjfesar, Veni, Vidi, Vict !
 
 LINGO TO COWSLIP. 155 
 
 In propriis personis, we shall strut, 
 
 Et cum Victoria^ what a figure cut ! 
 
 But if you will mis-construe all I've said, 
 
 And cruelly refuse to share ray bed; 
 
 What grief can then be similar to this ? 
 
 Can Lingo temperet a lachrymis P 
 
 I'll mourn like the Mantuan Bard's iEneas, 
 
 Be heavy as the quern dixere chaos! 
 
 At sijert animus to make me blest, 
 
 Superlative delight will be exprest. 
 
 I'll give you proof imp rompMi of my love : 
 
 To your deponent, then propitious prove ; 
 
 Who but for you this tedious life endures, 
 
 As in all moods andjigures he is yours. 
 
 'Twill be a participle of ray bliss. 
 
 If you be passive, O ray love, in this ; 
 
 No starry Argus shall outdo my care, 
 
 1 will be vigilant and guard my fair ; 
 
 And ever will, wbefiever we shall ^rcct, 
 
 Gaudeo te bene esse in the street. 
 
 You shall not want for Lingo's kind protection. 
 
 For I will start at ev'ry interjection ! 
 
 Angry or pleas'd, ill-humour'd or serene, 
 
 I'll be the very mood that you are in ; 
 
 And when you'll speak, after our conjugation^ . 
 
 I'll patient wait your speech's termination.
 
 156 LINGO TO COWSLIP. 
 
 Perhaps you've other lovers, 1, the first, 
 
 Must bow to fortune and be ever curst ; 
 
 If this be true, O vice versdy then 
 
 Shall 1 remain th' unhappicst of men ! 
 
 Yet still in St/ntax, there's a rule to call, 
 
 Exi'rT/ first person zoorthier than all : 
 
 Let Ego be the person shares your bed, 
 
 Ille or Illi any other wed ; 
 
 Perhaps they're dunces, who might only banter, 
 
 For now, O mores! tempora mutantur. 
 
 "i^hese passive fellows, shall to me submit, 
 
 As I am acthey for my Cowslip fit ! 
 
 Ne'er love those homines, who're vain and silly, 
 
 But still be mine, thou sweet as is the lily ; 
 
 But nola bene, for you may suppose, 
 
 I mean the lily, in the garden grows ; 
 
 No little flower can my heart enamour, 
 
 My lily, fair-one, is the Lilly's grammar. 
 
 I'll teach you love for love, and be your tutotj 
 
 Not partial or impartial, but be neuter ; 
 
 And ev'ry favour. Cowslip esse dignum. 
 
 Most readily I'll grant, Nunc ecce signum! 
 
 I'll SIGN the articles of marriage now, 
 
 And prove my passion with a solemn vow ; 
 
 For I have studied the Eight Parts of Speech, 
 
 In proper phrases. Cowslip to beseech I
 
 LINGO TO COWSLIP. 157 
 
 Yes, I have parts to supplicate my fair, 
 
 Oh may my parts prevail as I'm sincere ; 
 
 As I have been your (preterperfect) lover, 
 
 And will be (in the future tense) moreover ! 
 
 Love is a debt, which to my passion you owe, 
 
 Hcec animo concipe dicta tuo. 
 
 Be not irregular, like sum, inclin'd. 
 
 Some who are prudes and never can be kind ; 
 
 But let your airs and coyness be declined. 
 
 Let what IVe written satis proof afford, 
 
 And nominate your lover, wedded lord ; 
 
 Wiih positive intent, let us unite. 
 
 Our comparative passion shall delight. 
 
 To the superlative degree all night. 
 
 Give then consent, agree, no time let's lose, 
 
 Th' imperative mood I have a right to use, 
 
 And will, if you deny, my fair accuse 
 
 Of cruelty ! Denying is so base, 
 
 'Tis always follow'd by th' accusative case.-- 
 
 Lege t ama, while your lovesick swain^ 
 
 Domina Cowslip, certb will remain ; 
 
 Till death, which makes the beggar and the king go. 
 
 Ad infinitum, your admirer, Lingo.
 
 158 
 TEAGUE'S MISFORTUNE ; 
 
 OR 
 
 THE NEW YEAR'S GIFT. 
 
 A STORY. 
 
 A LOVER, who, as lovers always prove, 
 
 Was head and ears, nay^ almost choak'd, in love ; 
 
 Kesolv'd to send his mistress something fine, 
 
 To be, that year, her chosen Valentine ! 
 
 He lately an advertisement perceiv'd 
 
 Of precious oil, (a wonder too believ'd,) 
 
 "Which ev'ry spot cou'd banish from the sight, 
 
 And make the skin remarkably milk-white. 
 
 Of this its virtue being well assur'd, 
 
 A bottle for the lady was procur'd 
 
 To wash her hands,, tho' nothing could be fairer, 
 
 While Teague his servant, was deputed bearer. 
 
 Teague now was call'd, and in a little time, 
 
 A note was written, ^written all in rhyme ; 
 
 The charge was given, and the bottle sent. 
 
 And off poor Teague with his commission went. 
 
 But 'twas a freezing day,: the lad must stop, 
 
 When but half-way, to take a little drop ; 
 
 Stop at the Crown, a sign that he well knew. 
 
 Where many the^re shillings he spent too.
 
 teague's mistortune. 159 
 
 He always with the landlord had a sup, 
 
 And now, as usual, sipp'd his comfort up ; 
 
 But like his countrymen, he was not able 
 
 To sit without a play-thing at the table ;-^ 
 
 And oh! unfortunate! poor Teague had not 
 
 A knife and stick, his knife he had forgot, 
 
 So out he took the bottle and a key. 
 
 To play his Paddj/ Whack and Langolet. 
 
 But ere he'd done, the bottle gave a crack, 
 
 And broke to pieces with his P^^^^ Whack. 
 
 Pillalaloo ! poor Teague began to shout, 
 
 No wonder, faitk, the oU ran all about. 
 
 The landlord enter'd to his friend's relief ; 
 
 And when he understood the cause of grief, 
 
 The lady's residence he begg'd to know. 
 
 Where with this precious oil he was to go : 
 
 Which told, he star'd,-' 1 know now whom you mean, 
 
 Her brother Jack may often here be seen ; 
 
 The letter H so constantly he uses. 
 
 That he his meaning frequently confuses I 
 
 In courtship once he made a lady falter. 
 
 For he propos'd to lead her to the /^allar. 
 
 A queer young prig,_so strange in his discourse, 
 
 He gives these vowel-words peculiar force - 
 
 But never mind, -egad we'll make some shift, 
 Sir, to replace this valuable gift ;
 
 too teague's misfortune. 
 
 The letter, tho', her brother Jack must read, 
 Take care of that, and you'll no doubt succeed/ 
 < Oh faith and troth,' cries Teague,-* if that be all, 
 Til force the gentleman to read the scrawl ; 
 As to the gift,_why, ' (pulling straight his cravat,) 
 * No wflw alive, but Miss, you know, must have that V 
 A dirty volume, Boniface now brought. 
 Which, for the oil, a substitute he thought. 
 Teague having got his lesson, quickly went, 
 And gave to Jack the note, his master sent. 
 Miss, at his elbow, begg'd him to read out, 
 She long'd to know, what it was all about ; 
 Her brother took his glass, first spell'd with care, 
 And then began, " To my ka.nge\ic fair, 
 Whom first I had the happiness to meet 
 At Mrs. Spendali's in Newcastle-street ! 
 Where, Aall //enchanting, hand /jendearing maid, 
 With you, my partner, 1 ha, rubber play'd. 
 permit a fond /mdmirer, then, my dear. 
 To hoffer you hn gift for the new year ! 
 To win your love shall heyei be my toil. 
 Pray then ^accept this trifling boon of //oil." 
 V * Hoyle V echoed Miss, while Teague that instant took, 
 From under his hig coat, the dirty book ; 
 And having wip'd it with his skirt all over, 
 Told Miss that was the present from her lover !
 
 tEAGUE*S MISiPORTtTlTE. IgJ 
 
 How's this ? Hoyle upon Whist !' she cried,- so he 
 
 Attributes all his loss at cards to me ; 
 
 This is a sarcasm which I cannot brook, 
 
 But I will match him, here take back the book j' 
 
 And writing a few lines upon the cover, 
 
 The present is remitted to her lover. 
 
 Teague now return^, his master quick enquir'd, 
 
 If that the fair the New Year*s Gift admir'd ? 
 
 < Oh fait, dear joj ! she did so scold and rail, 
 Myself was bother'd. Sir, from head to tail. 
 But here's her answer,' giving him the book| 
 His master eyes it with a vacant look ; 
 
 Then reads the writing o'er," Do you, X pray, 
 Study this Hoyle yourself ere cards you play . " 
 
 < So, so,' exclaims the gentleman, < then she, 
 Attributes all.her loss ait cards to me.' 
 
 But he proceeds, Do you. Sir, apprehend, 
 
 I'd soil my fingers with the thing you send ?" 
 
 * What ! then she threw the precious oil away. 
 
 Aye, and she broke the bottle I dare say ;' 
 
 Teague grinn'd from ear to ear, ^ Why, without joke, 
 
 You may say that, the bottle, faith, was broke.' 
 
 < Broke I death and hell ! she should have sent it back. 
 How was it broke ?' ' Why-why-with-with a whack. ' 
 The lovers with each other now offended, 
 
 Tho' harm on neither side had been intended, 
 
 V
 
 162 THE THUMB AND LITTLE FINGETl. 
 
 Soon meet together ; after some vexation, 
 
 At last the parties had an explanation ; 
 
 Tcague now was call'd, quite unprepar'd for this ; 
 
 < Where is the bottle Sir, I sent to Miss ?' 
 
 < The botUe!' < Aye V Of oil ?' Yes, Sirrah, yes,* 
 
 < Why on my troth, faith, Sir, the devil fire me, 
 But 1 will tell you all, since you desire me I 
 
 Then you must know two letters help'd to spoil 
 Your honor's gift, the precious gift of oil. 
 But don't be angry Sir, with me I pray. 
 The lady's brother was to blame, you'll say, 
 It was his H and your poor servant's K.' 
 Teague now cxplain'd, a hearty laugh ensued. 
 And with good humour did the night conclude. 
 
 THE THUMB AND LITTLE FINGER. 
 
 A FABLE. 
 
 AS things inanimate are able, 
 As well as beasts, to talk in fable ; 
 The Thumb and Little Finger then, 
 May certainly discourse like men. 
 This granted, ^we shall now rehears*, 
 A curious dialogue in verse.
 
 THE THUMB AND LITTLE FiNGEE. 163 
 
 One day the Thumb, with pride elate, 
 In saucy tone, began to prate ; 
 The Little Finger he accosted, 
 Which, all attention, high was posted. 
 
 < Thy distance keep and never dare, 
 
 With Thumb, thy neighbour, to compare. 
 
 Vain fool ! doth not thy very name 
 
 Thy insignificance proclaim? 
 
 Then cease thy arrogance and pride, 
 
 And strive this littleness to hide. 
 
 In every work of toil and art. 
 
 Do I not take an active part ? 
 
 Impressions I not only make, 
 
 But seals 1 also help to break : 
 
 To guide the pen too, I assist ; 
 
 The useful member of the fist 1 
 
 While thou'rt obliged, with due submission, 
 
 To stand aside, I gain admission 
 
 Into snuff"-boxes of first cost, 
 
 An honor thou canst never boast ; 
 
 Then know thyself, and. Sir, henceforth, 
 
 Ne'er arrogate superior worth." 
 
 The Little Finger, out of patience, 
 Made in reply these observations :
 
 I(J4 THE THUMB AND LITTLE VINGER, 
 
 <' Dirainulive as I may be, 
 I am for ever above thee ; 
 And as to works of art or labour, 
 I equally assist my neighbour. 
 Thou boast'st an honor I disclaim ; 
 No small addition to my fame ; 
 I scorn that honor, 'tis enough, 
 T' observe, good Sir, I don't take snuff j 
 , A greater dignity boast I, 
 A dignity, none can deny ; 
 For I, altho' a little thing, 
 Do often wear a diamond ring ! 
 See me at court, I am the grand. 
 The gay appendage to the hand. 
 Then of thy consequence be dumb, 
 And cease thy railing, Mr. Thumb." 
 
 The neighbours three, who stood between, 
 And who had witness'd this droll scene, 
 Now interfer'd, " Be quiet, friends. 
 This strife to no good purpose tends. 
 Consider every limb 's a brother. 
 And we are born t' assist each other ! 
 Dissolve this love, and what ensues ? 
 All happiness on earth we lose.
 
 THE WORLD*S GIFTS. 165 
 
 Pride's then a folly, grandeur, vanity, 
 Nothing so lovely as urbanity, 
 Be therefore wise, act with propriety, 
 Or there's an end to all society. 
 
 THE WORLD'S GIFTS. 
 
 What are the World's donations, say. 
 Which we so eagerly pursue ? 
 
 Mere shadows wliich soon pass away. 
 By many sought, obtained by few ! 
 
 What are these gifts ev'n when possest ?- 
 (Sometimes possest without a claim,) 
 
 What ? but delusive toys at best, 
 The whole, a fortune, title, fame. 
 
 Suppose our money-bags increase, 
 
 Are there no cares annex'd to wealth ? 
 
 Can fortune purchase inward peace, 
 Can it insure a moment's health ? 
 
 What is there in a title found, 
 Substantial pleasure to afford ? 
 
 Say, what 's this gift, but a mere sound,- 
 An empty name, a pompous word !
 
 166 WIGHT THOUGHTS. 
 
 And what is fame ? a nation's praise I 
 Ne'er from vicissitudes exempt ; 
 
 To-day we're hail'd with loud huzzas, 
 To-morrow loaded with contempt I 
 
 But grant, it follows to the grave, 
 What then ? a monument is plac'd. 
 
 Declaring cfM5<, great, virtuous, brave : 
 A satire this on the deceas'd ! 
 
 Are these the gifts for whi6h mankind, 
 
 In anxious expectation, live ? 
 Hence idle thoughts ! and let me find 
 
 That peace, the world can never give. 
 
 NIGHT THOUGHTS. 
 
 More than bj searching beams of day, 
 By silent night's black mantle may 
 The dreamer know his inmost thoughts. 
 And in Mab's mirror see his faults I 
 Yet dreams are shadows ! all ideal, 
 Tho' for the moment seeming real. 
 Mark how the lawyer weighs his fee. 
 Beholding, what he cannot see !
 
 NICfHT THOUGHTS. l^f 
 
 He has the brief, but very brief. 
 It steals away so like a thief; 
 He opes his eyes, a sad mistake, ^ 
 Mre he con'd ope his mouth to speak ; 
 No fee, no brief, in short no gains, 
 And nothing but the dream remains. 
 So can the juggler by his art. 
 Impose upon the easy heart ; 
 He puts some money in our hand, 
 We hold it fast at his command ; 
 'Tis gone, 'tis vanish'd in a minute, 
 We think the very devil 's in it ! 
 No money now the hand retains, 
 And nothing but surprise remains. 
 
 The lover, blest with the idea, 
 Embraces his beloved Thea, 
 Oh of what happiness possest ! 
 Ye gods and goddesses ! how blest ! 
 He wakes, vexation then takes place, 
 The pillow had the fond embrace. 
 The huntsman, while with sleep o'ercome. 
 Is chasing Reynard far from home ; 
 The drums and trumpets give delight, 
 To champions in the silent night.
 
 168 NIGHT THOtGHTS. 
 
 The miser finds the precious store, 
 Which he had lost some months before j 
 The hungry alderman content is, 
 With eating turtle and nice dainties. 
 The actor stamps with all his force. 
 And roars aloud, " A horse, ahorse !'* 
 The gamester shakes the box and throws^ 
 * Seven 's the main,' and seven shows ! 
 Such are our night-thoughts, and it seems, 
 Our very day-thoughts, all are, dreams, 
 For wakingjsleeping, life 's abus'd, 
 With empty trifles we're amus'd. 
 While resting on this led of earth, 
 How 'cisionarT/ all our mirth ! 
 Tho* stretched in all our tfozeJ/y/ joys, 
 How oft calamity annoys ! 
 Tho' curtained with the robes of grandeur^ 
 How fugitive our riches ! and sure, 
 To-day*s tranquillity, or sorrow, 
 May prove an idle dream to-morrow-
 
 169 
 
 SYLVESTER DAGGERWOOD'S 
 
 SOLILOQUY. 
 
 A STROLLING ftctor me they call 
 
 But look around, we're players all j 
 
 We see in town,--nay, every where, 
 
 " Much ado about Nothing," there; 
 
 Aye, and we find too ev'ry day 
 
 " All in the Wrong,"_a fav'rite play. 
 
 " The School for Scandal," we may see 
 
 Is play'd by ladies o'er their tea. 
 
 And by our loungers, Ways and iMeans," 
 
 " Raising the Wind," and such like scenes ; 
 
 Lovers act ^< Matrunony," say 
 
 What oft succeeds ? " The Devil to Pay," 
 
 <' Cross Purposes," (for all is strife,) 
 
 *' The Provok'd Husband,"^'' Jealous Wife !" 
 
 " Th' way of the World" this-in short, 
 
 There's characters of ev'ry sort. 
 
 How many Filches, grown quite callous, 
 
 Have made their exit at the gallows ; 
 
 Is there a time but we may meet, 
 
 A Tonr/ Lumpkin in the street ? 
 
 A Jessamy so fond of self, 
 
 A Lovegold that adores his pelf?
 
 170 MODERN POETRY. 
 
 " The men and women all are play'rs," 
 As our immortal bard declares ; 
 Then why sliou'd gcnlleYnen condemn 
 Sylvester, ^whobut copies them? 
 When I am manager, which may 
 To-morrow be, perhaps next day, 
 My motto shall, (most charming satire) 
 Be, Z)c te Fabula narratur. 
 
 MODERN POETRY. 
 
 Tiio' Pope's sweet muse expos'd th' erroneous rhyracs,- 
 
 The faults of wou'd-bc poets of his times ; 
 
 Yet poetasters, of the present day. 
 
 In many instances are worse than, they ! 
 
 How oft dull particles do strike our view, 
 
 Andmrny ands, and other trifles too; 
 
 Ev'n in two lines, as well as one, we'll find. 
 
 With art most great, ten, ten small words arejoin'd. 
 
 But polysyllables for this make good, 
 
 The mcigni-mulii-tudinous intrude. 
 
 And with great Alexander's train at length conclude. 
 
 With gaping vowels next the line o'erflows, 
 
 Lo ! oft the one the other to oppose. 
 
 Or harsji discordant consonants like those !
 
 MEDITATION. 
 
 171 
 
 As to the rhyme, in the same line, you'll see, 
 A word agree with what the rhyme may be. 
 And shou'd the bard attempt to paint some trouble, 
 'Tis ten to one his rhyme is gay and double ; 
 How many to the chyming art pre-iew^, 
 While the same syllable will still aX-tend ; 
 Some for the sake of sound, most wisely con- 
 Trivingy have made two words of only one. 
 Lines with false measure never sweetly flow, 
 They are unnatural, whose feet too many grow. 
 But wanting, like cripples, hobble so. 
 
 MEDITATION. 
 
 " To be or not, that is the question ;" 
 And when the matter wants digestion, 
 We often put ourselves to pose, 
 The index-finger on the nose ! 
 Half satisfied, we're cross and mute, 
 And beat a tattoo with the foot ; 
 If on the fidgets, we complain, 
 And loll and fret, and loll again. 
 If any thing occasion doubt, 
 Why then, we rise and walk about.
 
 172 MEDITATION. 
 
 The lover meditates, and heigh-ho ! - 
 His sighs are for his dearest Clio ; 
 He thinks he sees her, for in fancy, 
 (A waking dream,) all lovers can see. 
 Lawyers repeat their repetitions, 
 And meditation guides physicians ; 
 A dreadful case ! the patient 's ill,- 
 The doctor thinks to show his skill ; 
 He thinks, and with deliberation. 
 Takes snuff, for snuff helps meditation ; 
 Then hems, puts up his box, and then 
 Thinks he had better call again ! 
 The beaux consider what 's the fashion. 
 Belles think upon the gentle passion ; 
 The poor upon their pray'rs in churches. 
 The rich, on what is best to purchase. 
 The reverend on a novel text. 
 When 'tis his turn. Sir, to preach next 
 The hungry poet on his rhymes ; 
 The patriot on the wretched times ; ^ 
 Patentees too, and all the rest. 
 Of venders, on the puffs are best. 
 All think, 1 think, of ev'ry station ; 
 Our time is lost in meditation. 
 But jolly topers, over drink. 
 Are those, perhaps, who never think.
 
 173 
 HINTS FOR LADIES. 
 
 (AN IMITATION.) 
 
 Two or three looks when your swain wants a kiss, 
 Two or three Noes when he bids you say Yes^ 
 Two or three smiles wlien you utter the wo, 
 Two or three frowns if he offer to go. 
 Tw& or three speeches like, * Ah ! go away,' 
 Two or three times you must hold him to stay ; 
 Two or three laughs when astray for small chat, 
 Two or three tears, tho' you don't know for what ! 
 Two or three letters, when vows are begun, 
 Two or three quari-els before you have done ; 
 Two or three meetings to walk here and tliere, 
 Two or three nights to the playhouse repair ; 
 Two or three dances to make you jocose, 
 Two or three hours in a corner sit close, 
 Two or three starts when he bids you elope, 
 Two or three glances, to intimate hope. 
 Two or three pauses before you are won. 
 Two or three swoonings to let him press on ; 
 Two or three sighs if you've wasted your tears. 
 Two or three hems when a chaplain appears ! 
 Two or three nods when your hand 's giv'n away, 
 Two or three coughs when you come to obej/ ;
 
 174 HINTS FOR GENTLEMEN. 
 
 Two or three curtseys when marriage is over, 
 Two or three dears when addressing your lover. 
 Two or three steps towards the bed chamber run, 
 Two or three kisses, tho' ask'd but for one ; 
 Two or three lasses may have, by this rhyme. 
 Two or three little ones all in due time. 
 
 HINTS FOR GENTLEMEN. 
 
 Two or three oaths to show how you are skill'd, 
 Two or three promises, never fulfilled ; 
 Two or three bows, when a favor is granted. 
 Two or three pshatos, when from you it is wanted. 
 Two or three coffee-rooms visit with speed, 
 Two or three newspapers gather to read ; 
 Two or three paragraphs read very loud 
 Two or three times, Sir, to deafen the crowd ! 
 Two or three nights at the play you must loll, 
 Two or three hisses for, nothing at all ; 
 Two or three noes if the rest cry encore, 
 Two or three claps if they bawl out no more I 
 Two or three damns if the poet be witty. 
 Two or three bravos, the actress if pretty ;
 
 HINTS FOR GENTLEMEN. 173 
 
 Two or three minutes be using your glass, 
 Two or three ogles give each charming lass ; 
 Two or three steps be pursuing the Misses, 
 Two or three whispers, then two or three kisses 
 Two or three looks at the one that most fair is, 
 Two or three sighs if you think her an heiress ; 
 Two or three compliments haveto extol her. 
 Two or three names of fine goddesses call her ! 
 Two or three squeezes the fair one to coax, 
 Two or three laughs at all your own jokes ! 
 Two or three hours let your snuff-box be seen. 
 Two or three fingers admitting therein ; . 
 Two or tliree pinches with consequence take, 
 Two or three trite observations then make ; 
 Two or three quarrels have Avith every friend, 
 Two or three cliallenges instantly send. 
 Two or three j9op5, and the quarrel may end. 
 Two or three dice boxes rattle, by which, 
 Two or three others perhaps you'll enrich ; 
 Two or three clubs you must visit each week. 
 Two or three hours of diversion to^eek. 
 Two or three nights make a noise if you please, 
 Two or three catches and two or three glees. 
 Two or three ball-rooms frequent, where you may 
 Two or three steps with a lady display, 
 Two or three years thus convivially pass'd, 
 Two or three sweet-hearts will bring you at last.
 
 176 
 
 A FEMALE CHARACTER. 
 
 AS virtuous as charming let her be, 
 
 For virtue, every beauty can impart ; 
 Be gentle, generous, sincere and free, 
 
 For these alone secure the wand'ring heart. 
 
 With modesty, oh let her be endued ; 
 (Branch of humility ! so lovely, meek ; 
 
 Whose vivid blush bespeaks a heart that's good, 
 The only ruby beautifies the cheek ! 
 
 Thou, with a kind of majesty, canst chain 
 
 Licentious hands, tell coxcombs to withdraw, 
 
 Be virtue's guard, the tripping tongue restrain, 
 And make e'en libertines shrink back with awe I) 
 
 Let cordial sympathy for the forlorn. 
 
 Declare her heart to be of genuine worth ; 
 
 For what can more the female eye adorn, 
 
 Than when compassion's glist'ning tear starts forth ? 
 
 Let her be loving, when she seems to love, 
 Not prone to differ, not inclin'd to teaze ; 
 
 But gay, by making gay, for ever prove, 
 
 And pleas'd herself when she can others please.
 
 A FEMALE CHARACTER. Iff 
 
 Let her delight in elevating mirth, 
 
 But never mirth which indecorum seems ; 
 Let smiling innocence give pleasure birth, 
 , But prudence teach her to avoid extremes.. 
 
 Let aifectation of no kind appear, 
 
 For where her charms if she be proud and vain t 
 To flattery never let her give ail ear, 
 
 But ev'ry silkspun blandishment disdain. 
 
 Shou'd love, a swain of honor recommend, 
 Whose honest heart fidelity declares ; 
 
 With soft compassion let her then attend. 
 And be propitious to the lover's pray'rs. 
 
 Shou'd we hate those, by whom we are esteem'd I 
 Shou'd females be to apathy inclin'd ? 
 
 Thus cruel to the worthy must be deem'd 
 As bad, as to the worthless to be kind. 
 
 A A
 
 178 
 GEORGE BARKER 
 
 AND 
 
 THE TOOTH-DRAWER. 
 
 A TALE. 
 
 The famous George Barker was laid up one day, 
 
 His wife being then in the family way ; 
 
 For always the tooth-aclies of husbands begin, 
 
 Whenever their wives are about lying-in ! 
 
 He roar'd and he bellow'd, so great was the pain, 
 
 Sipp'd brandy, ^bit ginger, but all was in vain. 
 
 At last Mr. JoUop, th' apothecary, came, 
 To take out the tooth, which the rest did enflame. 
 * Sir, open your mouth ;' which he pen'd so wide. 
 That Jollop peep'd down, and I see it,' he cried ; 
 His head was held fast, and the pinchers cramm'd in, 
 Which Barker receiv'd with a horrible grin. 
 
 Tremendous and loud were the gentleman's cries. 
 
 While out came a tooth to the patient's surprise ; 
 
 < Ouns! Sir, you have drawn the best tooth that I had. 
 
 Instead of the one that 's so grievously bad !' 
 
 That 's my loss,' cried Jollop, ' I've now double labour. 
 
 For need* must I take out its troublesome neighbour.'
 
 FASHION. 179 
 
 George wou'd have replied, but t'other in popp'd 
 His pinchers, and thus was his mouth quickly stopp'd ; 
 Then 'spite of odd gestures, and ev'ry wry face, 
 He pull'd and he twisted, the tooth to displace ; 
 The doctor at length brought the job to an end. 
 With pains to himself, but much more to his friend. 
 
 Poor Barker held up both his hands to his head, 
 < Oh death and the devil ! what pain this !' he said ; 
 While Jollop, the gentleman gravely assur'd, 
 'Twas nothbg to what he might chance have endur'd ; 
 * Pray look at the rotten old stump I'd to draw. 
 And then thank your stars, that I did'nt break ^ovr 
 jaw.* 
 
 FASHION. 
 
 Fashion, little flippant thing, 
 What in fashion did thee bring. 
 That the gentlefolk shou'd make 
 Such a fuss, for Fashion's sake ? 
 
 Why large buckles, why the small, 
 Why no buckles now at all ?
 
 J80 FASHION. 
 
 " 'I 111! I^ 
 
 If the matter right 1 take, 
 ^-/a-worfe, for Fashion's sake. 
 
 One time this, and one time that, 
 Now a large, then little hat ; - 
 Fight a duel,- life at stake, 
 Kill and die, for Fashion's sake. 
 
 Why the Jew 'gainst Christian set, 
 Why the ring, and why the bet. 
 Square the fist, the noddle break ? 
 'Tis a match, for Fashion's sake. 
 
 See the Misses full of glee, 
 How they sip, and sip their tea, 
 Not a morsel will they take, 
 They must fast, for Fashion's sake. 
 
 See the masters full of pride, 
 Twelve-inch'd cane, and glass beside ; 
 How they swagger, act the rake, 
 Curse and swear, for Fashion's sake. 
 
 Fickle Fashion, why this fuss. 
 Acting and behaving thus ? 
 Must the wise your whims partake, 
 And be fools, for Fashion's sake ?
 
 INFLUENCE OF FASHION. 181 
 
 But I see the reason 's plain 
 
 Trade will have the greater gain ; 
 Milliners and taylors make . . 
 
 Longer bills, for Fashion's sake. 
 
 INFLUENCE OF FASHION. 
 
 Fashion, all the world allow, 
 Is a goddess, most divine, 
 
 Since both men and women bow. 
 Every season at her shrine. 
 
 Strange, as it may seem perhaps, 
 She presides o'er all the globe, r 
 
 Gives to Asia mitred caps. 
 And directs the Persian robe. 
 
 Paint she gives to Spanish dames. 
 Making beauty quite a mask ; 
 
 Gentoo widows sends to flames, 
 Making love a dreadful task | 
 
 Then in China, as they say. 
 
 She for mourning, white decrees ; 
 
 jpiack is there accounted gay, ' 
 (Strange vagaries sure are these !)
 
 IftB INFLUENCE OF FASHION. 
 
 She to distant islands brings 
 Ornaments for ev'ry lass, 
 
 Feathers, necklaces, and rings,- 
 Some of pewter jsome of brass. - 
 
 Large fur cloaks she bids them wear. 
 In bleak Russia, as I'm told, 
 
 But in Norway all the fair 
 
 Brave, like ours, the winter's cold. 
 
 Tho' abroad her laws are strange. 
 Permanent they still appear ; 
 
 'Tis with us she loves to change, 
 Giving new laws ev'ry year. 
 
 Past, and present, let 's compare, 
 We will find them, diff'rent far ; 
 
 'Tis well known the things that were, 
 Are unlike the things that are. 
 
 What she orders, we must wear, 
 Men and women, 'tis the ton, 
 
 Be it wig, or our own hair, 
 Be it waist, or be it none.
 
 183 
 
 ANCIENT AND MODERN FASHIONS. 
 
 A PINDARIC FRAGMENT. 
 
 How modest formerly the fair, 
 They did not leave their bosoms bare, 
 
 Creating passion ! 
 But hiding almost all their skin, 
 They wore large caps, tied under chin ; 
 
 Ah sweet old fashion ! 
 And the ruff handkerchiefs did so pin. 
 That no part of the breast lay open. 
 
 The titled lady, neat and prim. 
 Exhibited a person slim, 
 
 With waist so nice and taper ; 
 How neatly fix'd was every pin ; 
 So tightly lac'd, she look'd as thin, 
 
 As was her own thread-paper. 
 And then by a large hoop^s assistance, 
 She kept the fopling at a distance. 
 
 The Macaroni, like a Lord, 
 Walk'd viixhfull'hottom'd wig and sword, 
 And cravat as was made theti;
 
 184 ANCIENT AND MODERN FASHIONS. 
 
 A long square coat with a large cufF, 
 For taylors put in cloth enough, 
 
 A sign that they were paid then 1 
 With fierce cock'd hats they look'd like men, 
 
 And wore most costly rings, 
 At first large buckles, small ones then, 
 
 But never thought of strings. 
 
 Then noblemen were dignified. 
 For honor was their greatest pride. 
 
 Exalting their condition ; 
 To pay each tradesman's honest debt, 
 A word of promise ne'er forget. 
 
 Was honor's definition ! 
 
 Their business then the tradesmen heeded, 
 And business in the day succeeded, 
 
 At night they kiss'd their spouses 
 It was their pride to keep their books 
 
 And not keep country houses. 
 Or sweethearts for sweet looks ! 
 
 For trade they only courtedy 
 And stay'd at home all summers ; 
 
 No curricle they sported, 
 That was unknown in commerce !
 
 ANCIENT AND MODERN FASHION^. 185 
 
 The women minded house-affairs, 
 And regularly said their pray'rs 
 
 As duty doth command all ! 
 And what a wonder we may deem, 
 
 Drank tea too without scandal ; 
 A greater wonder it may seem, 
 To nurse their babes was their delight, 
 To comb and wash them ev'ry night : 
 Few infants then were given out, 
 And few then perish'd, for no doubt. 
 That child will always thrive the best 
 That 's nourish'd at a mother's breast. 
 
 There were not then fine names and double, 
 Which to repeat is sure a trouble, 
 Like Henrietta- Wilhelmina, 
 Or Margaretta-Angelina, 
 
 As now so very common ; 
 But Agnes, Alice, Blanch, or Jane, 
 Or others, equally as plain, 
 
 Belong'd to every Woman. 
 
 No PharO'Tahles tlien were us'd, 
 At Ball-rooms never Time abus'd, 
 Crim Con was very rare I 
 
 B B
 
 186 APPLICATIONS. 
 
 For if a Wife e'er clianc'd to rove, 
 Or for another chang'd her love, 
 Dcspis'd by all the fair, 
 She was dismiss'd from every door, 
 And left to starve like Jenny Shore! 
 
 APPLICATIONS. 
 
 Both ladies and gentlemen too, 
 Such habits peculiar imbibe ; 
 
 That often they hold up to view, 
 The feather 'd and animal tribe. 
 
 The fop is a monkei/y and he, 
 
 A parrot^ that 's fond of his prate j 
 
 The belle is a peahen^ and she. 
 Who waddles, a duck in her gait. 
 
 A foe is a viper j a bull, 
 
 And many a lad is a calf, 
 Then what do you think of the fool ? 
 
 An ass, tho' he gives a horse-lsMgh.
 
 THE NAVAL PILLAR. IgJ 
 
 Your married folk, constant for life, 
 Are sweet turtle-doves, mind you that; 
 
 But often the husband, and wife. 
 Agree like a dog and a cat. 
 
 The husband 's a </eer, when we see 
 
 The tokens which mark some men's brows ; 
 
 A goose before marriage then he. 
 Or ne'er had lie thought of a spouse. 
 
 The French are now wild beasts ofprei/, 
 Who lack something better than frogs, 
 
 Our tars are brave lions, and they, 
 
 Who vote for our rights, Iwncst dosrs. 
 
 THE NAVAL PILLAR. 
 
 TO Neptune Britannia triumphantly came, 
 
 " My sons still are Britons," she said, and so true 'tis, 
 A pillar of honor shall publish their fame, 
 
 And this Naval Pillar be honos virtutis! 
 A genius attended, and quickly complied. 
 
 Behold ! 'twas erected as soon as she spoke ; 
 Loud cheers were re-echoed, wliile multitudes cried, 
 
 Success to our King and our brave hearts of oak 1
 
 188 THK NAVAL PII-LAR. 
 
 And now j^uardian angels with ornaments bright, 
 
 SiHTOiinded this Pillar and curiously deck'd it ; 
 The names of brave heroes were held up to light, 
 
 And all their achievements of course recollected. 
 The crowd could no longer from raptures refrain, 
 
 And seeing their heroes, thus silence they broke, 
 " Britannia for ever shall still rule the main, 
 
 Shall rule it for ever with such hearts of oak." 
 
 Yet something like sorroAv affecting them now, 
 
 They inquired for heroes, in heaven rewarded ; 
 <* Oh where is Lord Nelson, and where is Lord Howe, 
 
 Say, where are those heroes whose deeds are recorded ?" 
 " A truce to enquiries," replied then a sage, 
 
 " For these were brave heroes, who smil'd at death's 
 stroke ; 
 They never can perish in History's page, 
 
 But still live for ever who were hearts of oak." 
 
 Now Bacchus appearing, the cheers were so loud. 
 
 That pleasure no longer admitted of thinking ; 
 He fiU'd out a bumper and cried to the crowd, 
 
 " A toast I shall give you, that 's well worth your 
 drinking ; 
 May George's strong pillars the sea ever fill, 
 
 To give those a broadside, who dare to provoke ; 
 Old England's support be her wooden walls still, 
 
 And victory ever attend hearts of oak !"
 
 189 
 
 MODERN WIT. 
 
 A MODERN Wit, upon my word, 
 Acts and converses so absurd. 
 
 We for a/oo/ might take him ; 
 How trivial all his actions seem, 
 His speeches, " light as air," we deem, 
 
 Then what a Wit can make him ? 
 
 But modem Wit is of a kind, 
 'Tis in no lexicon defin'd. 
 
 Save by misapplication ; 
 For what our scholars have thought fit 
 To say of nonsense, may of Wit 
 
 Be ample explanation. 
 
 This varies tho', as it appears, 
 For there's soft nonsense for the ears 
 
 Of a bewitching fair one ! 
 And there's loud nonsense which gives birth 
 To oaths, horse-laughs, a kind of mirth. 
 
 That is enough to scare one. 
 
 Then Modern Wit is mere chit-chat, 
 Bout something, nothing, this or that, 
 Unmeaning prittle-prattle,
 
 190 
 
 MODEHW WIT. 
 
 The greatest Wit is now-a-days, 
 The noisiest man, he who can raise <> 
 A dust, that is, can battle. 
 
 A borrow'd pun, ^perhaps not good. 
 No matter if scarce understood, 
 
 A Wit can well employ it ! 
 He tells it to the gaping folk, 
 He laughs himself at his own joke, 
 
 To make the rest enjoy it. 
 
 Thus Modern Wit, is empty, vain, 
 And any Wit can entertain 
 
 A fireside or a table ; 
 No ornaments of speech enrich,^ 
 'Tis always plain, to join in which 
 
 A very child is able. 
 
 Who then the greatest Wits can be f 
 The greatest blockheads, as we see, 
 
 Devoid of erudition ! 
 The thing Wit must as folly pass, 
 The ;?er50 Wit, a downright ass, 
 
 For such the definition^
 
 191 
 
 COMPLIMENTS. 
 
 What are the Compliments we pay, 
 The how do y'does of ev'ry day ? 
 Words of no meaning, of no worth, 
 Light as the air which sends them forth ! 
 'Tis well perhaps they're of no weight, 
 Or else the burthen wou'd be great, 
 When we so many have to bear 
 To friends at home, or friends elsewhere : 
 For ev'ry one is apt to say, 
 " Give them my Compliments I pray;" 
 And per acquaintance thus we send, 
 These empty gifts to ev'ry friend. 
 
 These Compliments, these how doy'does. 
 
 Which we on all occasions use, 
 
 And which kind fashion has supplied, 
 
 Into three kinds we may divide : 
 
 In these divisions we include 
 
 The/a/^e, the current, and the rude. 
 
 The false are Compliments of art, 
 Proceeding from a treach'rous heart ; 
 A gentle look, good-lmmor'd smile, 
 Are counterfeited all the while!
 
 192 COMPLIMENTS. 
 
 And whom we wish e'en to the devil, 
 
 We thus bespeak in language civil ; 
 
 " 'Pon honor I rejoice to meet you, 
 
 Call on me soon, soon, I entreat you ; 
 
 To breakfast, dinner, supper come. 
 
 You'll find me generally at home ! 
 
 Command my services I pray, 
 
 I'm yours, for ever yours, good day/* 
 
 Sometimes they're paid without disguise, 
 
 But still are false, because they're lies I 
 
 Of this the hospitable board, 
 
 A specimen will oft afford ; 
 
 " Oh, you've eat nothing I protest'* 
 
 Is said to almost ev'ry guest, 
 
 " Nothing at all !Vm very sorry, 
 
 I had not something nicer for you." 
 
 The Compliments which current pass 
 
 From lad to lad, from lass to lass. 
 
 Are so concise, so very short. 
 
 They nmst be of a harmless sort I 
 
 A friendly nod, a mutual bow, 
 
 Arc the salutes most common now ; 
 
 A shake o' th' hand perhaps ensues. 
 
 With," Ah, how arc you ? What's the news ? 
 
 How is your lady ? sister too ? 
 
 My best respects to all, adieu !"
 
 COMPLIMENTS. 193 
 
 These protestations of esteem, 
 AYith female friends as pithy seem : 
 As soon as they are faoe to fece, 
 A gentle court'sy first takes place ; 
 *' Good morrow, Madam," both exclaim j 
 " Wish you good day," wish you the same." 
 But should a visitor walk in, 
 'Tis thus the compliments begin : 
 " 1 'm glad to see you sit down, pray" _ 
 ** Excuse me, ma'am, I cannot stay." 
 <* Not stay !" It is not in my powV; 
 I must return in half an hour." 
 " You '11 take a glass of wine ?" " Not now !" 
 " Oh, don't say so !" I can't, I vow- 
 Dear Ma'am, excuse me, I must go." 
 " 'Tis a short visit; well if so- 
 Farewell : ray love to all you know." 
 
 With the last kind I shall conclude ; 
 Which are chilities most rude^ 
 And must proceed from want of thought, 
 Officiousness, or some such fault 
 " How do you do ? Where going, pray .?" 
 " Not far."" How far ?" A little way." 
 " Well, how IS business f " Well enough !" 
 " You 've got a wife ;~hadshe the stuff? 
 c c
 
 19't COMPLIMENTI. 
 
 I '11 call to sec you 'pon my life 
 
 I will / long to see7/our wife /" 
 
 Or else " You shall not leave us, Sir 
 
 Nay, 1 insist you must not stir." 
 
 " But, I have business." *< Business I No /" 
 
 " I have, indeed." " You shall not go. " 
 
 How often ladies are inclin'd 
 
 To compliments not very kind. 
 
 " Good morrow ! eh ! Lord bless me. Ma'am, 
 
 You are not well .'" " Indeed, I am !" 
 
 *' Impossible I why, you appear 
 
 As pale as death : good-bye, ray dear." 
 
 Such are the Compliments bestow'd : 
 False flimsy rude 'tis fashion's mode : 
 Give me, instead, those of the Heart, 
 Where Truth and Friendship act their part ; 
 Where ev'ry look bespeaks the word. 
 And words with ev'ry look accord ; 
 The best of Compliments are they, 
 AYhich Cordiality display.
 
 195 
 
 THE TONGUE. 
 
 What a strange tiling is the Tongue ! 
 Sometimes right, and sometimes wrong, 
 
 Sometimes foe, and sometimes friend ; 
 It can slander, or advise, 
 It can swear, or moralize. 
 
 It can charm us, or offend. 
 
 'Tis indeed a gift divine 
 We abuse tho' Heav'n's design. 
 
 And convert it to an evil, 
 When employed in language mean. 
 Imprecations words obscene 
 
 Flattery so falsely civil ! 
 
 W hen it was old yEsop's care 
 To provide a dainty fare. 
 
 He a dish of Tongues supplied ; 
 *' How is this ?" his lord exclaim'd ; 
 " Pray, are Tongues so good, and fam'd ?- 
 
 " Often good," the slave replied. 
 
 He was bade to cater food 
 Some time after not so good ; 
 
 Still a dish oi tongues he brought ; r
 
 196 THE TONGUE. 
 
 " Tongues, a^in !" the master cried 
 " Why a bad dish not provide ?'* 
 
 " Tongues are often &?," he thought. 
 
 *' What a happiness for some, 
 Were they either deaf or dumb !" 
 
 Oft exclaims the henpeck'd spouse ; 
 *' When the tongue of woman wags, 
 How it teases, scolds, and brags ! 
 
 'Tis the plague of ev'ry house 1" 
 
 Then of Tongue, the greater share 
 Seems to be amongst tlie fair,' 
 
 Tho' so meek fo mild so tender ; 
 True it is, it may oe said 
 For the Latinists have made 
 
 Lingua of the farCnine gender ! 
 
 NOBODY. 
 
 Sure Nobody's a wicked devil, 
 The author of consummate evil ; 
 In breaking dishes, basins, glasses,-^ 
 In stealing, hiding he surpasses.
 
 NOBODY. 197 
 
 Behold the punch-bowl crack'd around, 
 
 For weeks the ladle was not found : 
 
 How crack'd ? 'T^as Nohodi/, that did it ! 
 
 And how misplac'd 1 -Nobody hid it I 
 
 When in the school sits Dr. Pedant, 
 
 He calls to him that is the head in 't 
 
 " Who made that noise ? who let his tongue stii' ?" 
 
 " Nohodi/^ Sir ;" exclaims the youjjgster. 
 
 The Governess son > mischief spies out, 
 
 And, in a passion, thus she flies out : 
 
 " Hey-day ! a pretty litter this is ! 
 
 Whose doing, pray ? come, tell me, Misses ! 
 
 Whose doing ?" she repeats with fury : 
 
 " Nobodi/^Sy Madam, I assure you.'* 
 
 The lady of the house believes, 
 
 A guest her servant-maid receives ; 
 
 A thief, perhaps, who shams the lover, 
 
 The Avindows' fastenings to discover s 
 
 She hears a foot, yes hears it plain, 
 
 And calls, " Who 's there ?" but calls in vain : 
 
 She lists so anxious 'she to know 
 
 And hears a stranger's voice below ; 
 
 " Why, Jane, who is it you've got there ?" 
 
 " Lord, Madam I Nobodi/, 1 swear ! 
 
 As EVERYBODY Can dcclarc,"
 
 198 k'OBODY. 
 
 ** Fm sure somebody it must be !" 
 
 Nobodj/, Madam Come, and see.^* 
 
 She goes, but all in vain she peeps. 
 
 For any where nobody creeps. 
 
 She finds her gravy-soup diminish'd ; 
 
 Her ribs of beef are almost finish'd : 
 
 *' Hey-day,! who these provisions took ?" 
 
 " Nobodi/, Ma'am !" rejoins the cook. 
 
 " Impossible ! what do you mean ?" 
 
 " Why then the cat it must have been." 
 
 Thus nobody is never seen 
 
 In anybody's shape, but that 
 
 Of a domestic dog or cat. 
 
 This NOBODY how strange ! 1 think. 
 
 Can walk and talk, can eat and drink ; 
 
 But male or female ? why, I ween. 
 
 The gender must be Epicene. 
 
 An old offender it appears. 
 
 Who 's liv'd above a thousand years ; 
 
 For Polyphemus had his odd eye 
 
 Knock'd out by him I mean nobody.
 
 199 
 
 A LESSON FOR OLD MAIDS. 
 
 A Lady of twice twenty-five, 
 
 Who arrogantly thought 
 Herself the most discreet alive, 
 
 Without a stain or fault : 
 Would rail 'gainst those who acted wrong, 
 
 Nay, fault with mother Eve, too, find, 
 Who listen'd to a devil's tongue 
 
 *' And for an apple damn'd mankind.'* 
 
 One of the company, a wag. 
 Who heard this lady rail and brag. 
 
 Commended her verbosity ; 
 <' I 've books," said he, " upon this theme, 
 Nay, LiLLo's works where dreadful seem 
 
 Th' effects of Curiosity." 
 
 " Have you a library ? Indeed ! 
 
 I should be glad those books to read " 
 
 "And, Madam, that you may. 
 
 At any hour, on any day : 
 Be therefore pleas'd t' appoint your time ; 
 
 You'll be delighted, I dare say, 
 I've works in prose, and works in rhyme, 
 Nay, not a few; 
 
 There's many a pretty ode and sonnet.
 
 200 A LESSON FOR OLD MAIDS. 
 
 But now I thiiik on it, 'tis true, 
 There's one no female eye must view : 
 
 But hence those idle fears ! 
 You'd scorn, I 'm sure, to look upon it ; 
 
 One of your sense and years 
 With indignation would discard it ; 
 
 For on th' envelope there appears 
 Noli me tangere ! to guard it." 
 
 The lady promis'd, that, next day, 
 Her personal respects she'd pay. 
 In the mean time, our hero took, 
 From off the shelf, a little book, 
 "Which, tho' 'twas naturally thin, 
 So many covers now was in. 
 
 It seem'd a book of note ; 
 In truth, a valuable prize ! 
 
 And, on the outward coat. 
 
 Conspicuously he wrote, 
 This is not fit for any lady's eyj:. 
 
 Soon Madam came to prove her sense ; 
 
 The library was shown ; 
 Our hero then, on some pretence, 
 
 Left the old maid alone.
 
 A LESSON FOR OLD MAIDS. SOI 
 
 A lucky moment this she thought ; 
 
 Her longing eyes then roll'd about, 
 The book prohibited they sought, 
 
 The book prohibited spied out. 
 'Twas now beheld with great surprise ; 
 
 " It must be curious, wrapt up so ! 
 
 ' NOT FIT FOR ANY LADY's EYES f 
 
 Why not ? I am resolv'd to know." 
 
 No time was lost the covers all 
 
 She took off near a score ; 
 While several slips of paper fall, 
 
 And ornament theJfloor : 
 " Oh, here 's the book at last !" she said. 
 The title-page was quickly read 
 " Hey-day ! 
 
 Blue-heard, or Female Curiosity/, 
 A play." 
 
 Great was her spleen her animosity ! 
 
 It was a trick she saw it plain 
 
 And therefore, in great haste. 
 The book was folded up as^ain. 
 
 In hopes to be replac'd : 
 Plague on this Blue-beard ! one would swear 
 
 The sheets of paper were enchanted ; 
 
 D D
 
 "J02 A LESSON FOR OLD MAIDS. 
 
 I ' 
 
 Slic could not fold them as they were, 
 Nor place the vohime as she wanted. 
 
 With a loud laugh th' apartment shook ; 
 The lady shook aye, and the book 
 
 Shook in her hand ! She let it drop ; 
 Then cast her eyes around above her 
 
 To find out where the noise came from ; 
 Soon did her ladyship discover, 
 Thro' a small aperture a-top, 
 
 The half-face of a peeping tom. 
 
 " So !" cried our hero (for the phiz 
 Which thro' the crevice peep'd was his ) 
 ^' I find, that they who 're prone to rail. 
 Are of all others, th<^ most frail. 
 Art thou not worse than mother Eve, 
 
 W^o was persuaded by the devil ? 
 Thou hadst no tempter to deceive. 
 
 But tliy own heart, inclin'd to evil ! 
 What 's now thy due ? Nay, shou'dst thou not, 
 
 For striving a decree to alter. 
 Be, like the wife of pious Lot, 
 
 Transiigur'd to a mass of salt here ?" 
 A^yay sneak'd Madam ; scarcely was her step heard ; 
 His salt had such effect, th' old maid was pepper'' d !
 
 g03 
 
 WISHERS. 
 O si ! O si ! Otiosi ! 
 
 Oh, if cry the indolent," if I possess'd 
 Five thousand per annum, I 'd then be caress'd ! 
 Then wou'd that 1 had it ! oh, wou'd 1 were bkss'd ! 
 
 But wishers and wou'ders may sit at their ease, 
 Exclaiming as many " oh ifs" as they please. 
 For ne'er can " oh if alter Heaven's decrees. 
 
 By wishing and wishing what are we but elves ? 
 By wishing and wishing we flatter ourselves 
 For wishes can never fill coffers ot shelves. 
 
 By wishing and wishing, in hopes to obtain 
 
 Those wishes, without any labour or pain, 
 
 We wish and we wish, but 'tis wishing in vain.
 
 204 
 
 A PINCH OF SNUFF. 
 
 Tiiou nasal comforter ! by thee 
 We think we understand we see : 
 
 Thy 9ordial grains 
 
 Assist the brains, 
 Then welcome Lundj/ Foot, or good Rupee. 
 
 If difficulties ever vex 
 If care or thought the mind perplex 
 
 If we 're attack'd with pains or aches 
 If weariness the eye-lids close 
 This application to the nose 
 
 Explains inspires relieves awakes ! 
 
 Ne'er shall perplexity then tease, 
 
 Ne'er throw thick darkness o'er me ; 
 
 " Begone, dull Care" 1 '11 be at ease, 
 My antidote 's before me ; 
 
 Come *' Thoughts to Counsel," when you please, 
 
 And with rich fancy store me ; 
 / But, as for Morpheus, should he try 
 
 To throw his dust into my eye, 
 
 I've dust, as well as he, t' apply, 
 So disregard his puff;
 
 THfi PINCH OF SNUFF. 
 
 And, as for pain, or any ache, 
 " Throw phy&ic to the dogs" 1 '11 take 
 A Pinch of Snuff. 
 
 The Doctor, in a novel case, 
 
 His patient very ill ; 
 First takes a pinch with a grave face, 
 
 And then prescribes with skill. 
 
 When the Philosopher 's in doubt, 
 He takes a pinch to find it out 
 
 And then succeeds ; 
 And, when the Counsellor essays, 
 Where no doubt is, a doubt to raise, 
 
 His nose he feeds ; 
 Divine ingredient ! oh, how good ! 
 'Tis knowlege comprehension food ! 
 
 What tho' Clarinda, now so nice 
 So delicate, and so precise. 
 If ask'd to take a pinch 
 A thousand yards may flinch, 
 And cry. 
 Oh, fie ! 
 I can't abide it no not I 
 
 Beware, 
 Thou fair ! 
 
 S05
 
 906 THE PINCH OF SNUFF. 
 
 These are affected shocks ! 
 Trust me, the time may shortly come 
 
 But time enough 
 Thou 'It love what now thou seemst t' abhor, 
 
 And ne'er demur 
 Nay more, thou wilt solicit for 
 
 A Pinch of Snuff; 
 And when into a neighbour's box 
 Thou 'st put thy finger and thy thumb, 
 
 Say, " Thank you, Sir, 
 Oh, charming excellent reviving stuff !" 
 
 A NEW TRANSLATION 
 
 OF 
 
 <^ SIMPLEX MUNDITITS." 
 
 A Master was hearing a class, 
 
 With looks the boys thought unpropitious ; 
 They strove all to please, but, alas ! 
 
 They stumbled at Simplex Munditiis. 
 
 " Well, sirrali ! go on or I'll flog '* 
 Thi^ menace prodiic'd perturbation z.
 
 A NEW TRANSLATION, &C. 207 
 
 y l.g 
 
 <* What 's Simplex Munditiis, you dog ! ' 
 
 Can none of you give a translation ?" 
 
 Says a youth, who was ready and smart, 
 
 " So neat is the sentence, I 'd do it. 
 But fear, that no words can impart 
 
 A neatness that 's adequate to it. 
 
 I Ve heard, but 'tis vulgar and bold, 
 
 A phrase often us'd by my mother ; 
 No phrase of one tongue can be told 
 
 Except by the phrase of another." 
 
 ** Well, give me your phrase, and, tho' low, 
 Yet, if it apply-^I '11 applaud you ;" 
 
 " Then, that which I think d propos^ 
 In English, is Neat, but not gaudy. 
 
 The master, with looks now of glee, 
 The rest of the day gave for playing : 
 
 " Go home teach your mother," said he, 
 " The Latin of her English saymg." 
 
 TINIS.
 
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