Merry Whitefoord, farewel! for thy fake I admit That a Scot may have humour, I had almost said wit:

This debt to thy mem'ry I cannot refuse,

"Thou beft humour'd man, with the worst "humour'd mufe."

ON A BEAUTIFUL YOUTH STRUCK

BLIND BY LIGHTNING.

IMITATED FROM THE SPANISH.

SURE 'twas by Providence design'd,

Rather in pity than in hate,

That he fhould be, like Cupid, blind,

To fave him from Narciffus' fate.

SO N G. *

AH me! when fhall I married be?

Lovers are plenty; but fail to relieve me
He, fond youth! that could carry me.
Offers to love, but means to deceive me.
But I will rally and combat the ruiner :
Not a look, not a fmile fhall my paffion discover,
She that gives all to the falfe one pursuing her,
Makes but a penitent, and lofes a lover.

"SIR,

"I fend you a fmall production of the late Doctor "Goldsmith, which has never been published, and which "might, perhaps, have been totally loft, had I not fecured "it. He intended it as a fong in the character of Mifs "Hardcastle, in his admirable comedy of " She Stoops "to Conquer," but it was left out, as Mrs. Bulkley, who "played the part, did not fing. He fung it himself, in "private companies, very agreeably. The tune is a pretty «Irish air, called The Humours of Balamagairy, to which "he told me he found it very difficult to adapt words; but ❝he has fucceeded very happily in these few lines. As I "could fing the tune, and was fond of them, he was fo "good as to give me them, about a year ago, juft as I was "leaving London, and bidding him adieu for that feason, "little apprehending that it was a laft farewell. I preferve “this little relic, in his own hand-writing, with an affec❝tionate care.

"I am, Sir,

"Your humble fervant. JAMES BOSWELL.

A SONNET.

WEEPING, murmuring, complaining,

Loft to ev'ry gay delight:

Myra, too fincere for feigning,
Fears th' approaching bridal night.

Yet why impair thy bright perfection ?
Or dim thy beauty with a tear?
Had Myra follow'd my direction,
She long had wanted caufe of fear.

EPILOGUE

ΤΟ

SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER.

ELL, having stoop'd to conquer with fuccefs, And gain'd a husband without aid from drefs; Still as a bar maid, I could with it too, As I have conquer'd him to conquer you : And let me fay, for all your refolution, That pretty bar-maids have done execution. Our life is all a play, compos'd to please, "We have our exits and our entrances." The first act fhews the fimple country maid, Harmless and young, of ev'ry thing afraid Blushes when hir'd, and with unmeaning action, "I hopes as how to give you fatisfaction."` Her fecond act difplays a livelier fcene,Th' unblufhing bar maid of a country inn,

Who whisks about the house, at market caters, Talks loud, coquets the guests, and fcolds the waiters,

Next the scene shifts to town, and there fhe foars, The chop-houfe toast of ogling connoifieurs.

On

On 'fquires and cits fhe there difplays her arts,
And on the gridiron broils her lover's hearts
And as the fmiles, her triumphs to compleat,
Even common council-men forget to eat.
The fourth act fhews her wedded to the 'fquire,
And madam now begins to hold it higher;
Pretends to tafte, at Operas cries caro,

And quits her Nancy Dawfon, for Che Faro.
Doats upon dancing, and in all her pride.
Swims round the room, the Heinel of Cheapfide:
Ogles and leers with artificial skill,

'Till having loft in age her power to kill,
She fits all night at cards, and ogles at fpadille.
Such, thro' our lives, the eventful history-
The fifth and laft act still remains for me.
The bar-maid now for your protection prays,
Turns female Barrifter, and pleads for Bays.

L 2