TO

DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON:

Food for a new Edition of his DICTIONARY.

Eet WILKES and CHURCHILL rage no more;
Tho' scarce provision, learning's good;
What can these hungries next explore,

Ev'n SAMUEL JOHNSON loves our food.

GREAT pedagogue, whose literarian lore,
With syllable and syllable conjoin'd,
To transmutate and varify, has learn'd
The whole revolving scientific names
That in the alphabetic columns lie,
Far from the knowledge of mortal shapes;
As we, who never can peroculate

The miracles by thee miraculiz'd,

The Muse silential long, with mouth apert, Would give vibration to stagnatic tongue, And loud encomiate thy puissant name, Eulogiated from the green decline

Of Thames's banks to Scoticanian shores, Where Loch-lomondian liquids undulize...

To meminate thy name in after times, The mighty Mayor of each regalian town Shall consignate thy work to parchment fair In roll burgharian, and their tables all Shall fumigate with fumigation strong: Scotland, from perpendicularian hills, Shall emigrate her fair muttonian store, Which late had there in pedestration walk'd, And o'er her airy heights perambuliz’d. Oh, blackest execrations on thy head, Edina shameless! tho' he came within The bounds of your Notation; tho' you knew. His honorific name, you noted not,

But basely suffer'd him to chariotize

Far from your tow'rs, with smoke that nubilate,
Nor drank one amicitial swelling cup
To welcome him convivial.

Bailies all!

With rage inflated, catenations* tear,
Nor ever after you be vinculiz'd,
Since you that sociability denied
To him whose potent Lexiphanian stile
Words can prolongate, and inswell his page
With what in others to a line's confin'd.

Welcome, thou verbal potentate and prince!
To hills and vallies, where emerging oats
From earth assuage our pauperty to bay,
And bless thy name, thy dictionarian skill,

Which there definitive will still remain, And oft be speculiz'd by taper blue, While youth studentious turn thy folio page.. Have you as yet, in peripatetic mood, Regarded with the texture of the eyeThe cave cavernick, where fraternal bard, Churchill, depicted pauperated swains, With thraldom and bleak want reducted sore; Where nature coloriz'd, so coarsely fades, And puts her russet par'phernalia on? Have you as yet the way explorified To let lignarian chalice, swell'd with oats, Thy orifice approach? Have you as yet, With skin fresh rubified by scarlet spheres, Apply'd brimstonic unction to your hide, To terrify the salamandrian fire That from involuntary digits asks

The strong allaceration?-Or can you swill The usquebalian flames of whisky blue In fermentation strong? Have you applied The kelt aerian to your Anglian thighs," And with renunciation assigniz'd Your breeches in Londona to be worn? Can you, in frigor of Highlandian sky, On heathy summits take nocturnal rest? It cannot be You may as well desire An alderman leave plumb-puddenian store, And scratch the tegument from pottage dish,

As bid thy countrymen, and thee conjoin'd,
Forsake stomachic joys. Then hie you home
And be a malcontent, that naked hinds,
On lentiles fed, can make your kingdom quake,
And tremulate old England libertiz'd.

CHARACTER OF A FRIEND,

In an EPITAPH which he desired the Author to write.

UNDER this turf, to mould'ring earth con

sign'd,

Lies he, who once was fickle as the wind.
Alike the scenes of good and ill he knew,
From the chaste temple to the lewdest stew.
Virtue and vice in him alternate reign'd;
That fill'd his mind, and this his pocket drain'd.
Till in the contest they so stubborn grew,
Death gave the parting blow, and both with
drew.