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BURNING LORD MANSFIELD'S LIBRARY. 335
And MURRAY sighs o’er Pope and Swift,
And many a treasure more,
That grac'd his letter'd store.
When wit and genius meet their doom
In all-devouring flame,
And bid us fear the same.
O'er Murray's loss the muses wept,
They felt the rude alarm,
His sacred head from harm.
There Mem'ry, like the bee, that's fed
From Flora's balmy store, The quintessence of all he read
Had treasur'd up before.
The lawless herd, with fury blind,
The honey on his tongue.
LOVE OF THE WORLD REPROVED;
Thus says the prophet of the Turk,
No friend or follower of mine
May taste, whate'er his inclination, On pain of excommunication. Such Mahomet's mysterious charge, And thus he left the point at large. Had he the sinful part express’d, They might with safety eat the rest; But for one piece they thought it hard From the whole hog to be debarr’d; b It may be proper to inform the reader, that this piece has already appeared in print, having found it's way, though with some unnecessary additions by an unknown hand, into the Leeds Journal, without the Author's privity: VOL. 1.
And set their wit at work to find
What joint the prophet had in mind.
While others at that doctrine rail,
You laugh—’tis well— The tale applied
and friendly game at cards ; And one, whatever you may say, Can see no evil in a play;
Some love a concert, or a race;
And others shooting, and the chace:
Revild and lov'd, renounc'd and follow'd,
With sophistry their sauce they sweeten,
MRS. (NOW LADY) THROCKMORTON
Ye nymphs! if e'er your eyes were red
O share Maria's grief!
Assassin'd by a thief.