COMMON FAME PUT TO SHAME.

Forbear, thou common liar, common fame,
With envious breath, to blast Amelia's name;
To mar her merits with fictitious flaw,
And give her up to men she never saw !
For know, vile babbler! spite of all thy pains,
Unsullied still the lovely maid remains :

Made wise by others' harms, the cautious fair
Scorns the temptation and avoids the snare.

THE FINAL TEST.

When Death puts out our flame, the snuff will tell, If we were wax or tallow, by the smell.

RECEIPT FOR A MODERN DUEL.

Two fools, with each an empty head,
Or, like their pistols, lined with lead ;
Two minor fools to measure distance;
A surgeon to afford assistance;
A paragraph to catch the fair,

And tell the world how brave they are.

ON DOING NOTHING.

"What are you doing, Joe?" said I,
"Oh nothing, Sir," was Joe's reply.
"And you too, Tom; pray let me know?"
"I'm busy, Sir; I'm helping Joe."
"Is nothing then so hard to do,
"That thus it takes the time of two?"
"No," says the other with a smile,

"And grins, and chuckles, all the while;

"But we're such clever chaps, d'ye see,
"That nothing's hard to Joe and me."

CUPID TAKEN PRISONER.

Late the Muse's Cupid found,
And the wreath of roses bound,
Bound him fast, as soon as caught,
And to blooming Beauty brought.
Venus with large ransom strove,
To release the god of love.
Vain is ransom, vain is fee,
Love refuses to be free;

Happy in his rosy chain,

Love with Beauty will remain.

LACK OF BRAINS.

You beat your pate, and fancy wit will come;
Knock as you will, there's nobody at home.

ON WALTZING.

By Sir H. E. Bart.

What! the girl I adore, by another embrac'd? What! the balm of her lips shall another man

taste?

What! touched in the twirl, by another man's knee?
What! panting recline on another than me?
Sir, she's yours-from the grape you have press'd
the soft blue,

From the rose you have shaken the tremulous dew,
What you've touch'd! you may take :-pretty
Waltzer, adieu.

The Pretty Waltzer's Reply.

The girl you adore was not closely embraced, The balm of her lips did no other man taste, She was not rudely press'd by another man's knee, Did not panting recline on another than thee 'Twas appearance, not truth the grape holds her first blue,

From the rose is not shaken one drop of sweet dew,

Unsoil'd she remains, and still faithful to you:
But appearance offends, your complaints may be

true,

To avoid all suspicion forbearance is due.

ON A KISS.

;

Humid seal of soft affections,
Tend'rest pledge of future bliss
Dearest tie of young connexions,
Love's first snowdrop, virgin kiss.
Dove-like fondness, chaste concession,
Nature's joy, and infant's play :
Speaking silence, dumb confession,
Glowing dawn of blighted day.

Sorrowing joy, adieu's last action,
When ling'ring lips no more must join;
What words can ever speak affection,
So thrilling and sincere as thine.

NINE TAILORS MAKE A MAN,

I've heard nine tailors make a man,
And, if Report's no railer,

R

I've also heard, deny who can,
Nine dandies make one tailor.

GRACE AT A MISER'S TABLE,

O! thou that blest the loaves and fishes,
Look down with pity on these dishes;
Tho' the contents they are so small,
Make them enough to fill us all;
Deign such a blessing, Heav'n, to send,
Our wants and wishes to befriend :
For, if they should our stomachs fill,
'Twould be a heavenly miracle.

THE PERFECT BEAUTY.

Marked you her eye of heavenly blue?
Marked you her cheek of roseate hue?
That eye in liquid circles moving-
That cheek abashed at man's approving-
The one Love's arrows darting round-
The other blushing at the wound.

Sheridan.

POETICAL ADVERTISEMENT FOR A WIFE.

Wanted-a wife

To sweeten life,

By a bachelor healthy and young;

She must be fair,

In prudence rare,

And one who can bridle her tongue.

No difference then will arise;
If not, I still
Endeavour will

Two jewels to find in her eyes.

There's nothing more
On any score

That I have to offer at present;

So let what Miss

Will answer this,

Direct to Will. Mann on the Crescent.

THE LADY'S WATCH.

To a Lady, on seeing her take her watch from her bosom, and complaining it did not go right.

How could you, Mira, think that watch
The measur'd pulse of time could catch,

Where time's unknown? for what's placed there
Loses all sense of time and care.

THE PHILOSOPHIC REPAST.

As lately a sage on fine ham was repasting, (Though for breakfast too savoury, I ween,) He exclaim'd to a friend, who sat silent and fast

"What a breakfast of learning is mine!”

"A breakfast of learning!" with wonder he cried, And laugh'd, for he thought him mistaken; "Why what is it else," the sage quickly replied, "When I'm making large extracts from Bacon?”