was appointed to fucceed Earl Camden as Prefident; and Lord St. Helen's, to fucceed the D. of L. as foreign Secretary. To this, both parties had their diftinct motives -Mr. Pitt thought that the D. of G. would be firm with him, on account of his fecret indignation at former treatment—and the **** knew, that no motive under Heaven could give steadiness to a mind so flexible as his. To Lord St. Helen's, the reafon of Mr. Pitt's preference was more curious he had been educated in conftitutional habits; and of the two parties, he thought, with his ufual confidence, that he was the lefs crooked and in fincere.

AN EPITAPH,

TO THE MEMORY OF HUGH KELLY.

BY CAPTAIN THOMPSON.

PAUSE, gentle paffenger, a Word to th' Wife! *
Life's but an Hour's Romance-here genius lies!
He thriv'd, as every Man of Reason thrives,
And left a Wife-a very School for Wives.
He without trite Falfe Delicacy fhone,

And dar'd to write; nay, to defend the Throne.

* Alluding to his different dramatic compofitions.

E 2

The

The Mufes found him meek, untaught, and mild,
Confirm'd their choice, and nurs'd the favourite child.
Eafe and good-nature were his focial friends;
With all this worth-here human glory ends!

LINES

Written on a pedestal which supported the ftatue of MINERVA (in a Gentleman's garden at Parfon's Green) by a Lady who had decorated it with flowers on the day appointed for returning God thanks for the peace made by Lord

SD.

WHILE venal fenates, facred rights prophane,
And in God's temple praise th' ambitious Thane *
While + fainted roof corruption's enfign waves,
And faft and pray'r, but marks out fools and knaves,
While their pure worship fhall at court find grace,
The fool a peerage, and the knave a place;
Ah! turn my Mufe from all the selfish train ;
From all the dull, the venal, and the vain;
O come! O fmile! whilft I a wreath entwine,
And fondly dedicate to Fox this fhrine,

* Meant not of Lord B. but his reprefentative.

+ The flag on St. Margaret's church, which invites the pious of St. Stephen's, to attend prayers there, or in the Houfe of Peers.

At

1

At cheerful morn-bright noon-or penfive eve,
Thou, patriot, thou-fhalt here my vows receive;
Here the firft tribute of the fpring fhall bloom,
And here thy genius cheer ftern winter's gloom:
What tho' these rofes feek their native earth,
(Emblems of envy pining at thy worth)

What tho' thefe jafmines, fair and frail, shall fade,
And cutting winds deftroy the lime's gay fhade;
Thy virtues ftill thefe laurels fhall proclaim,
In verdure bright, and lafting as thy fame.
Nor thou, fair goddess, blame the fond defign,
For all fhall own --bis praise, kis honour's thine.

AN ODE

TO EIGHT CATS BELONGING TO ISRAEL MENDEZ,

A JEW..

SCENE, the Street.

The TIME, Midnight-the Poet at his Chamber Window.

SINGERS of Ifrael, oh ye fingers fweet!

Who, with your gentle mouths from ear to ear, Pour forth rich fymphonies from street to freet, And to the fleepless wretch the night endear.

Lo! in my fhirt, on you thefe eyes I fix,
Admiring much the quaintnefs of your tricks;

Your frifkings, crawlings, fquawls, I much approve :

Your fpittings, pawings, high-rais'd rumps,
Swell'd tails, and Merry-Andrew jumps,
With the wild minstrelfy of rapt'rous love.

How fweetly roll your goofeb'rry eyes,
As loud you tune your am'rous cries,

And, loving, fcratch each other black and blue!
No boys, in wantonnefs, now bang your backs;
No curs, nor fercer maftiffs, tear your flax,
But all the moon-light world feems made for you.

Singers of Ifrael, you no parfons want

To tie the matrimonial cord;

You call the matrimonial fervice cant

Like our first parents take each other's word:

On no one ceremony pleas'd to fix

To jump not even o'er two sticks.

You want no furniture, alas!

Spit, fpoon, difh, frying-pan, or ladle;
No iron, pewter, copper, tin, or brafs;
Nor nurfes, wet or dry, nor cradle,
Which cuftom, for our Christian babes, enjoins,
To rock the ftaring offspring of your loins.

Nor of the lawyers you have need,
Ye males, before you feck your bed,

To fettle pin-money on Madam:

No

ye,

No fears of cuckeldom, heav'n blefs Are ever harbour'd to diftrefs ye, Tormenting people fince the days of Adam.

No fchools you want for fine behaving,
No powdering, painting, washing, fhaving,
No night-caps fnug-no trouble in undreffing,
Before you feck your firawy neft,
Pleas'd in each other's arms to reft,
To feast on love, Heav'n's greateft blessing.

Good gods! ye fweet love-chanting rams!
How nimble are you with your hams
To mount a houfe, to fcale a chimney, top;
And, peeping down the chimney's hole,
Pour in a tuneful cry, th' empaffion'd foul,
Inviting Mifs Grimalkin to come up.

Who, fweet obliging female, far from coy,
Answers your invitation note with joy,

And fcorning 'midft the ashes more to mope;
Lo! borne on Love's all-daring wing,
She mounteth with a pickle-herring spring,
Without th' affiftance of a rope. ·

Dear moufing tribe, my limbs are waxing cold-
Singers of Ifrael fweet, adieu, adieu!

I do fuppofe you need not now be told,

How much I wish that I was one of you.