ON THE BURNING ON THE SAME. OF I. WHEN wit and genius meet their doom In all devouring flame, They tell us of the fate of Rome, And bid us fear the same. II. O'er MURRAY's loss the muses wept, They felt the rude alarm, Yet bless'd the guardian care, that kept His sacred head from harm. III. There Mem'ry, like the bee, that's fed IV. The lawless herd, with fury blind, THE LOVE OF THE WORLD REPROVED; OR, HYPOCRISY DETECTED*. THUS says the prophet of the Turk, These choose the back, the belly those; By some 'tis confidently said He meant not to forbid the head; *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. Thus, conscience freed from ev'ry clog, You laugh-'tis well-The tale applied May make you laugh on t' other side. Renounce the world-the preacher cries. We do a multitude replies. While one as innocent regards A snug and friendly game at cards; Some love a concert, or a race; And others shooting, and the chase. Revil'd and lov'd, renounc'd and follow'd, Thus, bit by bit, the world is swallow'd; Each thinks his neighbour makes too free, Yet likes a slice as well as he: With sophistry their sauce they sweeten, Till quite from tail to snout 'tis eaten. ON THE DEATH OF MRS. (now LADY) THROCKMORTON'S BULFINCH. YE nymphs! if e'er your eyes were red Where Rhenus strays his vines among, Or only with a whistle blest, Well-taught he all the sounds express'd, The honours of his ebon poll Were brighter than the sleekest mole, With which Aurora decks the skies, Above, below, in all the house, And Bully's cage supported stood Well-lattic'd-but the grate, alas! LADY THROCKMORTON'S BULFINCH. 177 But smooth with wands from Ouse's side, Night veil'd the pole, all seem'd secure : A beast forth sallied on the scout, He, ent'ring at the study door, And something in the wind Conjectur'd, sniffing round and round, Just then, by adverse fate impress'd, For, aided both by ear and scent, His teeth were strong, the cage was wood- O had he made that too his prey; Might have repaid him well, I wote, Maria weeps-the Muses mourn- |