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Which, or for gems of worth, or Roman coins,
Well may obtrude on antiquary's eye.

Ye spouting blades! regard this ruined fane,
And nightly come within those naked walls,
To shed the tragic tear. Full many a drop
Of precious inspiration have
you sucked
From its dramatic sources. Oh! look here,
Upon this roofless and forsaken pile,

And stalk in pensive sorrow o'er the ground
Where you've beheld so many noble scenes.

Thus when the mariner to foreign clime
His bark conveys, where odoriferous gales,
And orange groves, and love-inspiring wine,
Have oft repaid his toil; if earthquake dire,
With hollow groanings and convulsive pangs,
The ground hath rent, and all those beauties
foiled;

Will he refrain to shed the grateful drop;
A tribute justly due (tho' seldom paid)
To the blest memory of happier times?

THE PEASANT, THE HEN, AND

YOUNG DUCKS,

A FABLE.

A HEN, of all the dunghill crew
The fairest, stateliest to view,
Of laying tired, she fondly begs
Her keeper's leave to hatch her eggs.
He, dunned with the incessant cry,
Was forced for peace' sake to comply:
And, in a month, the downy brood
Came chirping round the hen for food,
Who viewed them with parental eyes
Of pleasing fondness and surprise,
And was not at a loss to trace
Her likeness growing in their face;
Tho' the broad bills could well declare
That they another's offspring were:

So strong will prejudices blind,

And lead astray the easy

mind.

To the green margin of the brook The hen her fancied children took : Each young one shakes his unfledged wings, And to the flood by instinct springs : With willing strokes they gladly swim, Or dive into the glassy stream, While the fond mother vents her grief, And prays the peasant's kind relief. The peasant heard the bitter cries, And thus in terms of rage replies :

You fool! give o'er your useless moan, "Nor mourn misfortunes not your own; "But learn in wisdom to forsake

"The offspring of the duck and drake.”
To whom the hen, with
angry crest
And scornful looks, herself addrest :
"If reason were my constant guide,
" (Of man the ornament and pride)
"Then should I boast a cruel heart,
"That feels not for another's smart:
"But since poor I, by instinct blind,
"Can boast no feelings so refined,
""Tis hoped your reason will excuse,
"Tho' I your counsel sage refuse,
"And from the perils of the flood
Attempt to save another's brood."

MORAL.

When Pity, generous nymph! possessed, And moved at will the human breast,

No tongue its distant sufferings told,
But she assisted, she condoled,
And willing bore her tender part
In all the feelings of the heart:
But now from her our hearts decoyed,
To sense of others' woes destroyed,
Act only from a selfish view,
Nor give the aid to pity due.

FASHION.

Bred up where discipline most rare is,
In military garden, Paris.

HUDIBRAS.

Ó NATURE, parent goddess! at thy shrine, Prone to the earth, the Muse, in humble song, Thy aid implores: nor will she wing her flight, Till thou, bright form! in thy effulgence pure, Deignest to look down upon her lowly state, And shed thy powerful influence benign.

Come, then, regardless of vain Fashion's fools;

Of all those vile enormities of shape

That crowd the world; and with thee bring
Wisdom, in sober contemplation clad,
To lash those bold usurpers from the stage.

On that gay spot, where the Parisian dome To fools the stealing hand of Time displays, FASHION her empire holds; a goddess great! View her, amidst the Millinerian train, On a resplendent throne exalted high, Strangely diversified with gewgaw forms. Her busy hand glides pleasurably o'er The darling novelties, the trinkets rare, That greet the sight of the admiring dames, Whose dear-bought treasures o'er their native isle Contagious spread, infect the wholesome air That cherished vigour in Britannia's sons.

Near this proud seat of Fashion's antic form A sphere revolves, on whose bright orb behold The circulating mode of changeful dress, Which, like the image of the Sun himself, Glories in coursing thro' the diverse signs Which blazon in the zodiac of heaven. Around her throne coquets and petit beaux Unnumbered shine, and with each other vie In nameless ornaments and gaudy plumes.

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