Did ye but see the demons that descend, your chairs (Rage reddens here—there Avarice despairs), You'd rush for shelter where contentment lies, To the domestic blessings you despise. Or if you've no regard to moral duty, [Beauty.' ("Tis trite but true)—Quadrille will murder Taste is abash'd, (the culprit!) I'm acquitted, They praise the character they lately pitied; They promise to reform-relinquish play, So break the tables up at-break of day, DesigneD TO BE SPOKEN AT ALNWICK, TO A PARTY DETACHED FROM THE EDINBURGH THEATRE. • To Alnwick's lofty seat, a silvan scene! To rising hills from distance doubly green, Go (says the god of with my standard bear, These are the mansions of the great and fair, 'Tis my Olympus now; go, spread my banners there.' Led by fond hope, the pointed path we trace, And thank'd our patron for the flowery place; Here-we behold a gently waving wood ! There--we can gaze upon a wandering flood ! The landscape smiles !-the fields gay fragrance A troop at certain times compellid to shift, And from their northern mountains turn'd adrift; By tyrant managers a while consign’d To fatten on what forage they can find; With lawless force our liberty invades, (shades: And fain would thrust us from these favourite But we (since prejudice erects her scale, And puffs and petty artifice prevail) To stronger holds with cool discretion run, And leave the conquerors to be-undone. With gratitude still we'll acknowledge the fa wear! Soft scenes are all around refreshful air! Slender repast indeed, and but camelion fare ! vours So kindly indulged to our simple endeavours; To the great and the fairwe zest thankfully debtors, And wish we could say, we gave place to our betters. c. SPOKEN BY MRS. G-, AT HER BENEFIT. UNTAUGHT to tread the Muse's various maze, And quite unpractised in poetic lays, I'll tell my simple tale in plain familiar phrase. In farmer's yard I've seen a housewife stand, Peace in her looks, and plenty in her hand, Dealing her friendly favours on the ground, Whilst all the neighbouring poultry gather round. Bold Chanticleer, in shining plumage gay, Struts on before, and leads the well known way; His consort next, she guides his chattering train, Impatient to devour the golden grain; Next stalks the turkey cock above the rest, With rosy gills and elevated chest; The screaming goose and waddling duck come last, Alike partakers of the free repast. The breakfast done, behold each thankless guest (Some birds, like men, make gratitude a jest), With insolence and pamper’d pride elate, Presumes his merit should provide him meat, And thinks the hostess thank'd that he vouchsafed to eat. A linnet, perching on a neighbouring tree, Thé well provided banquet chanced to see; She lights and, mingling with the motley crew, Feasted, as most at free expense will do; Then singling from the mercenary throng, Repaid the generous donor with a song. Could well wrought numbers with my wish agree, The grateful linnet you'd behold in me; But doom'd to silence from my want of skill, Accept, kind patrons ! of a warm good will. SPOKEN BY A CHILD OF NINE YEARS OLD. As the wise ones within have assured me it's common For chits of my age to be aping the woman, [case is; Don't tell me, says I ---they shall know how the I'm not to be check'd in my airs and my graces : I was born a coquette--and, by Goles, I'm not idle; I can ogle already-look peevish, and bridle; And I'll practise new gestures,each night and each morning, (warning. 'Gainst I reach to my teens-so I give ye fair Though I move ye at present with nothing but laughter, Look well to your hearts, beaux!-I'll swinge ye hereafter. [bolder, Have patience, then, pray; and, by practice grown I'll promise to please, if I live to grow older. STANZAS SPOKEN AT A PLAY AT THE THEATRE IN SUNDERLAND, FOR THE BENEFIT OF THE CORSICANS. Who can behold with an unpitying eye The glorious few (with patriotic fire) Distress'd-invaded-and resolved to die, Or keep their independent rights entire ? Shackled themselves, the servile Gauls would bind In their ignoble fetters half mankind, The gentle homage that to-night you've paid To Freedom and her ever sacred laws, The humble offering at her altar made, Prove that your hearts beat nobly in her cause. All-gracious Freedom, 0, vouchsafe to smile, Through future ages, on this favourite isle! Far may the boughs of Liberty expand, For ever cultured by the brave and free! For ever blasted be that impious hand That lops one branch from this illustrious tree ! Britons !—’tis yours to make her verdure thrive, And keep the roots of Liberty alive. 0, may her rich, her ripening fruits of gold, Britannia! bloom perpetually for thee! Defended once the famed Hesperian tree! EULOGIUM ON CHARITY. SPOKEN AT ALNWICK, AT A CHARITABLE BENEFIT PLAY, 1765. To bid the rancour of ill fortune cease, Soft are the graces that adorn the maid, Her sister's charms are more than doubly bright, From the kind cause that callid her here to-night, 1 Countess of Northumberland. |