LINES

ON THE LATE AMERICAN WAR.

WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1778.

UPON

PON a trestle PIG was laid,

And a sad squealing sure it made;

KILL-PIG stood by with knife and steel:
"Lie quiet, can't you!-Why d'ye squeal?
"Have I not fed you with my pease,
"And now, for trifles such as these
"Will you rebel?-Brimful of victual,
"Won't you be kill'd and cur'd a little ?"
To whom thus PIGGY in reply:
"Think'st thou that I shall quiet lie,

"And that for pease my life I'll barter?”-
"Then PIGGY, you must shew your charter;
"Shew you 're exempted more than others,
“Else go to pot like all your brothers.—

[Pig struggles.

"Help, neighbours! help!-this Pig 's so strong, "I think I cannot hold him long.

"Help, neighbours! I can't keep him under! "Where are ye all?-See, by your blunder,

"He's burst his cords!-A brute uncivil,

"He's gone!--I'll after."

[Exit Pig, and Kill-pig after him with the knife, &c.

CHORUS OF NEIGHBOURS.

To the devil! &c.

EXTEMPORE

ON A SNARLING AGENT OF LORD A*******'s AT

WHITEHAM, NEAR OXFORD.

I AM his Lordship's DoG at Whiteham,
And whom he bids me bite, I bite 'em.

THE SYSTEM SHATTERED.

Strenua Nos exercet Inertia.

Hor.

SEE clamorous CH****s-who tooth and nail

Administration fought-turn tail,

And sullen from the House secede

Where none his trite invective heed! "Inaction I'll indulge," he cries;

"The mob have too much sense to rise:

"And, in this dearth of knaves and fools, "I cannot work without my tools:

"Nay what 'though of our club the chair I

"Adorn, as grand Whig-Luminary,

"Dispensing patriotic sunshine,

"While we exhaust the brandy puncheon;

"Yet, says the history divine,

"The Sun stood still;'-Then so shall mine:

"And-till its warmth Sedition's egg

"Has hatch'd-I will not stir a peg:

"But, while I drink "Success to Faction,"

"Maintain my system of inaction,
"And to all effort give remission,
"Torpedo of the Opposition."

He ended-When his chère amie
Bet A*******—sitting on his knee—
Anxious the rash resolve to check,

Threw her white arms about his neck:
"Alas, this system of inaction

"Dear Ch* **** has in thy skull a crack shewn!""Zounds," cried the patriot-while she kiss'd him"You baggage-you've destroy'd my system!"

EPIGRAMMATA.

IN SOMNIS VIDERAT HERMOGENEM.

REGES Occidunt verbis, basiliscus ocello,

Aëre desævit pestis, et ore leo:

Esse tamen Medicis propriora negotia Fati Creditur, Umbra eadem est Mortis et Hermogenis.

LONGA DIES IGITUR QUID CONTULIT?

LONGA Dies igitur quid contulit, Optime quæris? Noctem, ni fallor, contulit illa brevem.

IN TONSOREM VERSIFICANTEM.

QUID Tibi cum Phæbo?-non est Barbatus Apollo.