ON THE PROMOTION OF EDWARD THURLOW, ESQ. TO THE LORD HIGH CHANCELLORSHIP OF ENGLAND. ROUND Thurlow's head in early youth, Fair Science pour'd the light of truth, See with united wonder cried Discernment, eloquence, and grace, The praise bestow'd was just and wise; So the best courser on the plain What all had deem'd his own. ODE TO PEACE. COME, peace of mind, delightful guest! Where wilt thou dwell, if not with me, The great, the gay, shall they partake That murmurs through the dewy mead, For thee I panted, thee I prized, Whate'er I loved before; And shall I see thee start away, And helpless, hopeless, hear thee say — Farewell! we meet no more? HUMAN FRAILTY. WEAK and irresolute is man ; Woven with pains into his plan, To-morrow rends away. The bow well bent, and smart the spring, Vice seems already slain; But Passion rudely snaps the string, And it revives again. Some foe to his upright intent Virtue engages his assent, But Pleasure wins his heart. 'Tis here the folly of the wise Bound on a voyage of awful length A stranger to superior strength, But oars alone can ne'er prevail The breath of Heaven must swell the sail, THE MODERN PATRIOT. REBELLION is my theme all day; (As who knows but perhaps it may ?) A little nearer home. Yon roaring boys, who rave and fight When lawless mobs insult the court, But O! for him my fancy culls Who constitutionally pulls Your house about your ears. Such civil broils are my delight, Though some folks can't endure them, Who say the mob are mad outright, And that a rope must cure them. A rope! I wish we patriots had Such strings for all who need 'em— What! hang a man for going mad! Then farewell British freedom. ON THE BURNING OF LORD MANSFIELD'S LIBRARY, TOGETHER WITH HIS MSS. BY THE MOB, IN THE MONTH OF JUNE, 1780. So then the Vandals of our isle, And Murray sighs o'er Pope and Swift, The well-judged purchase, and the gift Their pages mangled, burnt, and torn, The loss was his alone; But ages yet to come shall mourn ON THE SAME. WHEN wit and genius meet their doom They tell us of the fate of Rome, And bid us fear the same. |