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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,
Sworn foes to sense and law,
Have burnt to dust a nobler pile
And MURRAY sighs over Pope and Swift,
The well-judged purchase and the gift,
But ages yet to come shall mourn
ON THE SAME.
WHEN wit and genius meet their doom In all devouring flame,
They tell us of the fate of Rome,
And bid us fear the same.
Over MURRAY's loss the muses wept,
Yet blessed the guardian care, that kept
There memory, like the bee, that's fed
The quintessence of all he read
The lawless herd, with fury blind,
LOVE OF THE WORLD REPROVED;
THUS says the prophet of the Turk,
* It may be proper to inform the reader that this piece has already appeared in print, having found its way, though with some unnecessary additions by an unknown hand, inte the Leeds Journal, without the author's privity.
Much controversy straight arose,
These choose the back, the belly those;
You laugh'tis well-The tale applied May make you laugh on t'other side. Renounce the world-the preacher cries. We do a multitude replies,
While one as innocent regards
A snug and friendly game at cards;
Some love a concert, or a race;
MRS. (NOW LADY) THROCKMORTON'S
Ye nymphs! if e'er your eyes were red
Her favourite, even in his cage, (What will not hunger's cruel rage?) Assassined by a thief.
Where Rhenus strays his vines among, The egg was laid from which he sprung, And though by nature mute,
Or only with a whistle blest,
The honours of his ebon poll
With which Aurora decks the skies,