EPIGRAM

ON A COUNSELLORS'S HAVING HIS HAT STOLEN IN

WESMINSTER-HALL.

SHOULD'ST thou to justice, honeft thief, be led, you ftole his hat who had no head.

Swear that

That plea alone all danger fhall remove,
Nor judge nor jury can the damage prove.

AN ODE, 1764.

WHENCE can arife thefe dread alarms?
Why are the rabble up in arms?

And why this mighty faction?
No Mary Squires, no Cock-lane ghost,
No witch to drown, no priest to roast,
No batteaux-plats upon our coast,
To keep their minds in action:

Nor lord to hang, nor chief to shoot,
No bonfires now for Clive or Coote,
No Indian spoils to fhare.

That Halifax diftrefs'd our trade,
How much his fervice was o'er-paid,
And what a fhameful peace we made,
3 Is all an old affair.

*Implore

Implore of Heaven fome phantom new,
'Till war fhall be again in view,
To keep the people quiet;

Elfe fhall we be at wondrous pains,
Since there's no foe abroad remains,
To knock out one another's brains,
In party-feuds and riot.

Who then to feek in fuch a cafe
But thofe true patriots out of place,
Those only men of merit;

Not who from principle refign'd,
But those not let to ftay behind,
They always can an object find

That's worthy fuch a fpirit.

Yes, when their hopeful fchemes are croft,

Their incenfe gone, their fal'ries loft,

They've quite fufficient reafon;
(So 't'as been judg'd, at leaft of late,)
To fet at variance King and state,
That perturbation to create,

But little fhort of treafon.

How oft in this unfteady realm,
Shall headftrong faction feize the helm
Thro' popular delufion!

Confefs no Sov'reign but the mob,
And being each affign'd his job,

Their country thus combine to rob,

And spoil its conftitution.

VOL. IV.

D

Chatham,

Chatham, thy cause was sure the worst,
Yet own'd in ev'ry cause the first
For virtues as for birth;

Tears at thy death from all fides, flow,
But hadft thou died fome years ago,
The publick had not honour'd fo
Thy then unfullied worth.

Is there no praise, nó glory due,
To Gr-n- now, nor e'en to you
When out of oppofition?

There S

There C

is endear'd to fame,

too, a fav'rite name,

Nor one nor t'other was to blame

In fight or expedition.

Thefe all are blefs'd with wealth and parts,
With knowing heads and honeft hearts;

G

They love the common-weal;

—————'s a p—————— of vast renown, T owes nothing to the crown,

But cringing to a giddy town
Difplays a noble zeal.

Rare heroes thefe to brave their
So good, fo wife, to every thing

Great oracles of freedom;

Fit leaders of a clam'rous throng,
'Gainft all in office, right or wrong,
In hopes, no doubt, before 'tis long,
That they fhall fuperfede 'em.

Let's fift both parties man by man,
For ere fince government began,
E'en to this very hour,

The nation's faith has been abus'd,
We've been too easily amus'd,
With cant of patriotism us'd,
To cover luft of pow'r..

Many there are both out and in,
Difpos'd to go thro' thick and thin,
And fo I end my story,

Infcrib'd to H--- and to H-
Statesmen who often have been try’d
And always chufe the strongest side,
Be't either Whig or Tory.

A PARODY

UPON THE FAMOUS BATTLE OF CHEVY CHASE,

1776.

GOD profper long our noble King,

Our lives and fafeties all!

What woeful difcord once there did

In Britain's ifle befall!

To drive three kingdoms, hound and horn,
Earl Stt took his way;

The child may rue that was not born
A Scotsman on that day.

The flout Earl of Northumberland
A vow to God did make,

A daughter of this Scottish peer's
His fon to wife should take;

The choiceft honours of the land
To win and bear away:
The tidings to Earl Temple came,
At Cotes's where he lay;

Who fent Lord Percy prefent word
He would prevent his sport;
The ftately Earl, not fearing this,

Did daily go to court,