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III.

Don't rob the orchard (tho' you've power)
The Boston apples yet are sour,

And apt to purge and gripe :
The loyal Yankies for your use,
Would give and grant the genial juice,
You'd fteal the fruit-unripe.

IV.

The saints, alas ! have waxen strong!'
In vain your prayers and godly song,

To quell the rebel rout!
Within his lines skulks valiant Gage,
Like Yorick's starling in the cage,
He cries, “ I can't get out.”

V.

Why will the Cabinet always blunder,
Dull Leadenhall you still may plunder,

And ne'er can want pretensions;
Seapoys and Nabobs can't refift,
A vote will pay the Civil List,
And + Bogs will furnish pensions.

VI.

But Itubborn Yankies let alone,
They hurl defiance at the throne,

And

of Ireland.

'And all your schemes unfettle:
To mark your Acr with more difgrace,
They fling,their tea-pots in your face,
And fcald you with the kettle.

CONGRATULATORY ODE,

ADDRESSED TO LORD GEORGE GERMAINE.

BY THE SAME.

My Lord, I hail your spotlefs fame;

A Civil Poft, and change of name,

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Have wash'd away all fin :

The German flough no more prevails,
For ferpent like, you've caft your fcales,
And fhine in a new-fhin.

Tho' fallen from a fplendid ftation,
You both furprize and please the nation,
Your zeal they ftill applaud:

Sentenc'd no more to blaze in arms,
As an old trull with tarnish'd charms,
You turn a useful Bawd!

Bred in a Prieft's Socratic fchool,
Youth's fervid paffions train'd to cool,

And virtue's lore endear

He bid you ne'er fight face to face,
But mark the foe with mere difgrace,
By charging in the rear.

GERMAINE, in combats often try'd,
Britannia's troops in triumph guide,

War's glorious art improving!
Bend Rebel Yankies to our will,
Display again your martial skill,

And conquer without moving!

Your Smiths, and Cuninghams review,
All honourable men, and true;
Staunch as intrepid Barré !

Your great exploits brifk Ned will boast,
Make him official Penny Poft,

He'll tattle, fetch and carry.

Your Levees grac'd by heroes now,
Their Major Sturgeon ftrives to bow,

*

Your fplendour Philips fees!
The Scotch all puff you to a man,
Mac-Gregor's + Chief prefents a § Plan,

With under-wood, and trees.

Throw

Whoever Mr. Foote might have defigned by this luditous character, yet the candid reader may reft affured, that neither General Harvey nor Colonel Philips are alluded to. t Colonel R.

Lord George complained that a plan was fent over of

the

Throw out a lure for Ferdinand!
Invest him with fupreme command,
At Bofton fix his station;
Then Zanga like (right well I ween)
You'll gratify revenge and spleen,
And end him by || Starvation.

Or claim your rank-degrade Tom Gage,
A windmill now can't check your rage,
Or freeze your generous blood;
Lead forth the horse to Roxburg town,
And drive full gallop to renown,
Except you meet a wood.

Cou'd you keen Junius' thoughts refine,
Whofe dangerous fhafts, like lightning shine,.
And pierce whom-e'er they hit;

We all may think you---just as ftout,
Your treachery too we never doubt,
We only doubt your Wit?

The fmart of Minden's wound is o'er,
You've got Court-plaifter for that fore,

And

the battle of Minden, in which the impervious wood that obftructed the march of the cavalry was omitted. --The name of the malicious engineer who drew it, I now forget..

Mr. DUNDAS, Lord Advocate of Scotland invenit & fculpfit this harmonious and expreffive word, which fojuftly and characteristically pourtrays both the features of his country and countrymen,

And yet my Lord I'm thinking;
Bold JOHNSTON E* fome reward may claim,
His powder fav'd your tainted fame,
Juft on the point of stinking.

ON SOME LATE PUBLICATIONS.

CURS'D be the pen by faction sway'd,
The tool of blind invective made,

The foe to virtuous fame,

That dares amongst the mean and base,
With more than German rancour place
Much injur'd SACKVILLE's name.

When half America was loft,

And timid DARTMOUTH left his post,
He took the dang'rous lead;

To vindicate infulted laws,

And hazard in his country's caufe,

His fortunes and his head.

With affluence bleft, and bleft with friends,
Connected for no selfish ends,

His happiness was home;

He knew the joys of private life,

He lov'd his children and his wife,

Nor wifh'd abroad to roam.

Already

Alludes to the duel between Lord Sackville and Go

vernor Johnftone, Dec, 17, 1770,

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