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Extremes in nature prove the fame,
No conscious pangs enfue ;
No more, my Lord, than you.
To 'peach th' accomplice of one's crime,
When treachery recommends;
King's evidence and friends!
With HARLEY's gang you job and curse
To bribe such fawning dogs ;
Of pickles, crout, and hogs.
+ Many of the addresses are the spurious spawn of con, wracts,
Sir Peter's spirit you invoke,
And Yankies rob of glory;
To make him vouch your Atory.
Employ again that magic spell,
And civil war shall cease ;
-Up rotten thips, or peace!
To fons of tweedle-dum and dec,
1 Sir Peter Warren's ghoft was conjured up by Lord S. to countenance his own false and malignant reflections on the behaviour of the Americans, at the fiege of Louisburgh in 1746.
$ The honourable hostage peace, which, according to Lord Sandwich's boast, descended like the heavenly manna, from the clouds.
Embrace you round the middle; Ship-wrights and captains well deserve, In Yorkshire,---or in dock, to starve,
They neither fing or fiddle.
Your moral sense, my Lord, is nice,
You prove to all the realm ;
Muft well deserve the helm !
The truth from Gage,or Graves you dread,
Can Kidgell footh yout woes !
| Lord S..even from his boyish years, has always actes on Mandeville's system, so finely elucidated in the Fable of the Becs,
Dashwood shall pour from a communion cup
No more will Britain's Neptune vapour, 1
'Or laugh at Spain's alarms:
From Thetis' s golden arms.
A FAMILIAR. ODE TO LORD NORTH.
BY THE SAME.
Nullus argento color eft avaris
To shine a Financier :
Nor dream of taxing beer.
II. + The London Evening Porte
| The Hon. Mr. Luttrel, who may perhaps impeach his Lord thip.
$ Homer calls Thetis, silver-footed. The epither golden arms is not clasical, tho'it may have a political meaning, and allude to some anecdotes of our British Neptunc's mil. tress.
To glorious deeds, O NORTH! aspire,
If you act right and handsome:
Or the Manilla ransom.
Quack med'cines but increase our ills;
Too dear the nation pays ;
And send again to HAYES.
Camden shall head the learned band,
And comments Locke hath writ;
Escap'd from BATHURST's wit.
Can penal acts the saints subdue,