THE BROKEN CHINA. SOON as the sun began to peep A guardian Sylph, the wanton sprite Had teased her all the tedious night Some shock of fate is surely nigh, She call'd her Cupid by his name, And now the best of brittle ware, The kettle boil'd, and all prepared Well-chatting on of that and this, The maid reversed her cup; And, tempted by the forfeit kiss, The bumpkin turn'd it up. With transport he demands the prize: With many a frown the fair denies; A man must prove himself polite, So Richard strives with all his might But as he strove-O, dire to tell! O fatal purport of my dream! For in a kiss, or two or three, SIR W. ON B-T'S BIRTHDAY. DOES true felicity on grandeur wait? In conscious rectitude supremely bless'd, O'er the glad hearts of multitudes shall reign, Though the gay star ne'er blazed upon his breast. Ye happy children of the hoary North, Hail the glad day that saw your patron born; Whose private virtues and whose public worth Might the rich seats of royalty adorn. ON THE DEATH OF LORD GRANBY. FOR private loss the lenient tear may flow, And give a short, perhaps a quick relief;. While the full heart, o'ercharged with public woe, Must labour through a long protracted grief. This sudden stroke ('twas like the lightning's blast) The sons of Albion can't enough deplore; Think, Britons, think on all his triumphs past, And weep-your Warrior is-alas! no more, Blight, we are told, respects the Conqueror's tree, And through the laurel grove with caution flies: Vague-and how vain must that assertion be, Cover'd with laurels when a Granby dies! ON THE DEATH OF MR. OF SUNDERLAND. Go, breath of Sorrow; go, attending sighs! Acquaint the natives of the northern shore, The man they loved, the man they honour'd dies, And Charity's first steward is no more. Where shall the poor a friendly patron find? Who shall relieve them from their loads of pain? Say, has he left a feeling heart behind, So gracious-good-so tenderly humane? Yes-there survives his darling offspring—young, Yet in the paths of virtue, steady-sure! "Twas the last lesson from his parent's tongueThink, (O remember) think upon my poor.' 6 ON THE DEATH OF MRS. SLEIGH, OF STOCKTON. MUCH loved, much honour'd, much lamented Sleigh! The kindred virtues had expired with thee, Were it ordain'd the daughters of the sky, Like the frail offspring of the earth, could die; Trembling they stand at thy too early doom, And mingling tears to consecrate thy tomb. ON A VERY YOUNG LADY. SEE, how the buds and blossoms shoot; If, in the morning of her years, When time shall point her noontide rays, TO THE HON. MASTER B SENT WITH A CHOICE COLLECTION OF BOOKS, THOUGH, gentle youth! thy calm untainted mind Be like a morning in the Spring serene, Time may commit the passions unconfined To the rude rigour of a noontide reign. Then in the morn of placid life be wise, And travel through the groves of science soon; There cull the plants of virtue, that may rise A peaceful shelter from that sultry noon. ON SEEING W. R. CHETWOOD CHEERFUL IN A PRISON. SAY, loved Content-fair goddess! say, Or trace thy secret way? Love pointed out a pleasing scene, |