What! we, Sir, we? MINISTERS. We'll hang you on a tree ! 'Twas Hew that let the French escape-not Arthur, but Hew ! PEOPLE. We heed you not a feather: You're drivellers all together! ! A. And we'll hang you all together up; yes, you, Sirs, and you [Whoever has paid a visit to Mr. Bozley, of Esless Lodge, near Wrexham, in Denbighshire, must have been delighted with the sagacity of his favourite Dog George; who, after entertaining his master and his friends for fifteen years, died lately; -and the following Epitaph is placed on a tablet to his memory:] He Who ne'er did any one offend; He pass'd his harmless days with me, When When bus'ness call'd me far from home, -sincere. Esless Lodge, Aug. 20th, 1808. LINES ADDRESSED TO MISS EGERTON, BY THE REV. MR. THYER. [Miss Egerton, daughter of Samuel Egerton, Esq. of Tatton-park, Cheshire, had rallied, but very good-humouredly, the Rev. Mr. Thyer, for some little awkwardness at table.-Mr. Thyer was a celebrated critic; he lived with them at Tatton-park: the next morning at breakfast he brought her the following Copy of Verses.] IMITATION OF THE MUCH ADMIRED DIALOGUE BE TWEEN HORACE AND LYDIA. L' TO THE MOON. [From the Morning Herald.] UNA, whilst o'er yon eastern barrier mounting, Thou look'st as grave and silent as if counting The little stars that stud the crown of Night. * In the original cortice levoir, which is a proverbial expression for inconstancy of character, and levity of disposition; in this sense the poet here seems to have used it. Thy Thy head reclining on a cloudy pillow, So pleasingly coquettish is thy motion, O lovely Wanderer! Heathens reckon'd thee. 1 ODE TO EVENING. MILD Ev'ning, oh, arise! And o'er the azure skies The sorrows and the fears, The mad ambitious brave; Stands pointing at the grave. But a few hours are fled, And gloomy night is nigh. So youth's bright beams decay, Then cease to yield their light; And Death leads on the night. But if religion warm The soul, this night is calm, Kind angels soothe to rest; And hails its ent'ring guest. ན་ VERSES VERSE S. ON A FOUNTAIN IN HAMPSHIRE, WHICH AFFORDS A CONSTANT SUPPLY OF WATER TO A LARGE FISH-POND, SAL [From the Same.] AINT PATRICK, as in legends told, In order to assuage the weather, With eyes of blue-and breast of snow. POETICAL DESCRIPTION OF THE RIVER LAGAN. WRITTEN DURING A FLOOD. [From the Morning Herald.] "The hoarse rough verse should like the torrent roar.” ARSH and discordant, Lagan! is thy note, HARSH And stern the frown upon thy wintry face; While the fierce deluge and the storm's loud throat Thy parent Hill, with looks of wild dismay, Drumara |