Without committing treafor. -If Lee will dance a loyal jig, He'll get a sugar plumb-or fig,

And taste a Treas'ry raisin.

There let the trusty Heflians steer,
The rifle-men will quake thro' fear,

And Yaugars shoot them dead.
--Heister has finger'd H-V--Y's * gold;
But 'till the wind is fair,---he's told)

To vomit at Spithead.

Away the dear bought cut-throats go
To fight a wind-mill (your old foe)

Yet hear one serious truth:
Without much sorrow we shall read
How + Sclatzen-Knotzen, Blatzchun bleed,

Unless we break a tooth.

But friends demand the plaintive lay,
With whom I pafs'd youth's joyous day,


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by the dispensing power of admiralty and treasury licences and (it is said) that Lord Howe has obtained a patent for the commissioners to hold an annual fair each fall, and to sell peace, groceries, and haberdashery, to all the Americans who will submit and lay down their arms.

* General HRVY prevailed on him to fail, without the second division, by giving him a dose of aurum putabile in his hock.

$ The names of officers in the Brunswic guards.

And felt a soldier's pride ;
His wit and virtues-could I speak!
-I figh’d, and tears bedew'd my


To CONWAY tune no venal lyre,
Revere the genuine Patriot's fire,

(Such whigs are out of date :)
He loves his country->loves her laws;
For her alone his sword he draws,

The foldier of the state.

Germans will stand th' electric shock,
If you provide four-crout and hock,

Or else you'll meet reproaches :
With harden'd hearts, and hopes élate,
May they, like Pharoah, sink in state,

All coffin'd in their I coaches.

Did you the glorious treaty fign?
Who but G-RM-ne could e'er divine,

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I These lineal descendants of Hengist, have faid in a large ftock of old hock, and refused (tho' transports are scarce) to fail without their coaches, as they have some thoughts of set: tling in America. Lord MANSFIELD says, their claims by hereditary right are unquestionable. The argument fands thus;--- England being the mother country, Heffe is the grandmother; as, the English (I appeal to Mr. MACPHER SON) can only be considered as colonised Hefians.

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Of algebraic head,
That as nine taylors make a man,
Three wounded Hessians (on that plan)

Are equal to one s dead?

Old || Israel shook his new-ground spear,
And Yankey * GBORGE hung on the rear,

While + GRANT, with fear and shame,
His knapsack stuff'd with Highland oats,
Brave Howe and HOTSPUR call'd the boats,

-Tom Gage could do the same.

Is this the way, most valorous Lord,
“ To deftine rebels to the cord.”

Or conquer at Quebec?
In spite of every $ witty boaft,
Howe swings along a barren coaft,
- He cou'd n't save his neck!

These Ş“ By the Heffian treaty, three wounded men shall b: reckoned as one killed, and paid for accordingly."

See the Parliamentary Register. || ISRAEL PUTNAM.


| Vincit Amor patriæ. § In one of General Howe's letters, his excellency makes a desperate attempt to be witty ;---but neck-or-nothing seems to be his military maxim for wit as well as war. " The rebels, (says he) are hors du danger, if their necks are as safe as mine,” viz. Boston Neck ---But as this is his first bon-mot, perhaps he will improve in the course of the cam

These glorious triumphs you may tell,
No doubt they'll have a magic spell,

And make 'Squire Boobies willing
To grant supplies at every check,
-Give them the plunder of a * wreck,

They'll vote another shilling,

Unfit to wield the martial blade,
You chose the state affallin's trade,

Your country to undo:
As copper, tho' no warlike metile,
Can poison the domestic kettle;

And so resembles you.

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• Mr. Burke's humane bill was thrown out by the country gentlemen (those great supporters of the American war) who were determined to preserve their tenants righaks ---to all deo-dands,





O Venus, regina, Cnidi Paphique,
Sperne dilectam Cypron, et vocantie
Thure te multo Glyceræ decoram
Transfer in ædem.

Hog. Lib. I. Ode 36.

OF statesmens wiles I fcorn to fing;
Who flatter or betray the king

Can scarce deserve my praise.
O Venus, thy own bard inspire,
In pleasing notes to wake the lyre

For buxom CHARLOTTE Hayes.

Nor let Parnassian maids be coy,
My strain is chaste (though tun’d to joy)

You oft obey my summons: -Though CHARLOTTE's girls yield for hire, 'Tis through ambition they aspire

To act-like lords and commons !

Her sprightly fair ones laugh and fing;
Bestow love's sweets, without the sting,


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