But to filence his clack, and to hide my difgrace,. No longer a cornet, no longer a slave, In the van of dame Fortune behold him advance, With his place for a target, his tongue for a lance s But depriv'd of his place, ambition was croft, And the cornet's gay hours in a moment were loft. Now behold him a bellowing patriot again, See his eyes how they roll! hark his diction how strong! Thus oppos'd and oppofing, the fame tale he told, "As he ne'er had been bought, so he ne'er would be "fold;" That his country (fine words!) was far dearer than life! Than the whole race of G -lles, than Er his wife. How ftubborn the trials which patriots endure! Yet to conquer their whims, you must gild well the lure; For For we all know 'tis fenfelefs, whate'er they may mut ter, To quarrel, like fools, with their bread and their butter. To cut short my tale, and to close the last scene, ! With the hoard of mad Pynfent, a penfion, a place, With a peerage, the badge of his lordship's disgrace; With a load of gold boxes, from boroughs and cities, With his bluft'ring speeches, and half-written ditties. May he spend, yet unpity'd, the rest of his days, Unambitious of fway, undeferving of praise; Unhuzza'd by a mob, unendear'd to his friends, Ever rack'd by the gout, ever tortur'd by fiends! Ye chronicle wits, minifterially wife, Who to-morrow revere, what to-day ye despise; 1 A TRIFLER, AN AN EPISTLE TO A FRIEND IN THE COUNTRY *. HAving heard that your doggrel's in mighty re nown, (For a great many people can read in this town) Lord! Sir, there was hardly a man of them all, *This epiftle has been afcribed to Chr. Anfty, efq; The The deputy deals in profound allegory, * And holds in his hand a good key for history: This Pitt was a marvellous man in his day : Our foldiers moft ardently pray'd for their foes, It would do your heart good, fhould you e'er conie to town, To hear how their parliament fpeeches go down: In a winter or two, I fuppofe each oration, Well chew'd, will again be spew'd out on the nation : So for aught one can tell, e'en this letter of mine * Vide fpeeches of common-council. Three Three mighty great things are time, manner, and place, To give both our laws and ourselves a good face! But I top-for digreffions, when once they've the rein, Throw us off, tug as hard as we can at the mane. A man that is gouty, or has a lame leg, All fubfcriptions requested, they folemnly fwear,' like; As long as Great Britain has round her a dyke Not a man, not a fhilling, fhall from her be fent." For he has, Sir, a vaft variation of style. Of late we have heard him rebuking his brother, For provoking pert boys to bepifs their own mother. He |