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And when his country asked the stake
Has pledged his life for England's sake!
Though now he sink, oppressed with shame,
Forgetful of his former fame,
Yet Keppel with deserved applause
Proclaims him bold in Britain's cause,
And to his well-known courage pays
The tribute of heroic praise.
Go learn of him whom ye adore,
Whose name now sets ye in a roar,
Whom ye were more than half prepared
To pay with just the same reward,
To render praise where praise is due,
To keep his former deeds in view
Who fought and would have died for you.
The BEE AND THE PINEAPPLE
A BEE, allured by the perfume
Of a rich Pineapple in bloom,
Found it within a frame enclosed,
And licked the glass that interposed.
Blossoms of apricot and peach,
The flowers that blowed within his reach,
Were arrant drugs compared with that
He strove so vainly to get at.
No rose could yield so rare a treat,
Nor jessamine were half so sweet.
The gardener saw this Much-Ado
(The gardener was the master too),
Ànd thus he said : “Poor restless Bee !
I learn philosophy from thee.
I learn how just it is and wise,
To use what Providence supplies,
To leave fine titles, Lordships, Graces,
Rich pensions, Dignities, and Places,
Those gifts of a superior kind-
To those for whom they were designed.
I learn that comfort dwells alone
In that which Heaven has made our own,
That fools incur no greater pain
Than pleasure coveted in vain.”
METHINKS I see thee decently arrayed
In long-flowed nightgown of stuff damask made,
Thy cassock underneath it closely braced
With surcingle about thy moderate waist,
Thy morning wig, grown tawny to the view,
Though once a grizzle, and thy square-toed shoe.
The day was when the sacerdotal race
Esteemed their proper habit no disgrace,
Or rather when the garb their order wears
Was not disgraced as now by being theirs.
I speak of prigs-
CORRUPTELIS GALLICIS, UT FERTUR, LONDINI NUPER EXORTAM
Perrida, crudelis, victa et lymphata furore,
Non armis, laurum Gallia fraude petit.
Venalem pretio plebem conducit, et urit
Undique privatas patriciasque domos.
Nequicquàm conata suâ, fædissima sperat
Posse tamen nostrâ nos superare manu. Gallia, vana struis! Precibus nunc utere! Vinces,
Nam mites timidis supplicibusque sumus.
TRANSLATION FALSE, cruel, disappointed, stung to the heart, France quits the warrior's for the assassin's part, To dirty hands a dirty bribe conveys, Bids the low street and lofty palace blaze. Her sons too weak to vanquish us alone, She hires the worst and basest of our own. Kneel, France! a suppliant conquers us with ease, We always spare a coward on his knees.
MONUMENTAL INSCRIPTION TO WILLIAM NORTHCOT
Hic sepultus est
Inter suorum lacrymas
GULIELMI et MARIÆ filius
Unicus, unicè dilectus,
Qui floris ritu succisus est semihiantis,
Aprilis die septimo,
1780, Æt. 10.
Care, vale! Sed non æternùm, care, valeto!
Namque iterùm tecum, sim modò dignus, ero.
Tum nihil amplexus poterit divellere nostros,
Nec tu marcesces, nec lacrymabor ego.
FAREWELL! “ But not for ever," Hope replies;
Trace but his steps and meet him in the skies !
There nothing shall renew our parting pain;
Thou shalt not wither, nor I weep, again.
I am just two and two, I am warm, I am cold,
And the parent of numbers that cannot be told,
I am lawful, unlawful-a duty, a fault,
I am often sold dear, good for nothing when bought;
An extraordinary boon, and a matter of course,
And yielded with pleasure when taken by force.
To The Rev. MR. NEWTON
ON HIS RETURN FROM RAMSGATE
That ocean you of late surveyed,
Those rocks, I too have seen,
But I afflicted and dismayed,
You tranquil and serene.
You from the flood-controlling steep
Saw stretched before your view,
With conscious joy, the threatening deep,
No longer such to you.
To me the waves that ceaseless broke
Upon the dangerous coast
Hoarsely and ominously spoke
Of all my treasure lost.
Your sea of troubles you have past,
And found the peaceful shore;
I, tempest-tossed, and wrecked at last,
Come home to port no more.
Poor Vestris, grieved beyond all measure
To have incurred so much displeasure,
Although a Frenchman, disconcerted,
And, though light-heeled, yet heavy-hearted,
Begs humbly to inform his friends,
Next first of April he intends
To take a boat and row right down
To Cuckold's-Point from Richmond town;
And as he goes, alert and gay,
Leap all the bridges in his way.
The boat, borne downward with the tide,
Shall catch him safe on t'other side.
He humbly hopes by this expedient
To prove himself their most obedient,
(Which shall be always his endeavour,).
And jump into the former favour.
ON THE HIGH PRICE OF Fish
(TO MRS. NEWTON)
Fish too dear,
None must be bought
For us that are here:
No lobster on earth,
That ever I saw,
To me would be worth
Sixpence a claw.
So, dear Madam, wait
Till fish can be got
At a reasonable rate,
Whether lobster or not.
Till the French and the Dutch
Have quitted the seas,
And then send as much
And as oft as you please
A NOBLE theme demands a noble verse ;
In such I thank you for your fine oysters.
The barrel was magnificently large,
But, being sent to Olney at free charge,
Was not inserted in the driver's list,
And therefore overlooked, forgot, or missed;
For, when the messenger whom we despatched
Inquired for oysters, Hob his noddle scratched,
Denying that his waggon or his wain
Did any such commodity contain.
In consequence of which your welcome boon
Did not arrive till yesterday at noon;
In consequence of which some chanced to die,
And some, though very sweet, were very dry.
Now Madam says, (and what she says must still
Deserve attention, say she what she will,)
That what we call the Diligence, be-case
It goes to London with a swifter pace,
Would better suit the carriage of your gift,
Returning downward with a pace as swift;
And therefore recommends it with this aim-
To save at least three days,—the price the same;
For though it will not carry or convey
For less than twelve pence, send whate'er you may,
For oysters, bred upon the salt sea-shore,
Packed in a barrel, they will charge no more.
News have I none that I can deign to write,
Save that it rained prodigiously last night,
And that ourselves were, at the seventh hour,
Caught in the first beginning of the shower;
But walking, running, and with much ado,
Got home-just time enough to be wet through.
Yet both are well, and, wondrous to be told,
Soused as we were, we yet have caught no cold;
And wishing just the same good hap to you,
We say, good Madam, and good Sir, Adieu !