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CARBERIÆ Rupes in comitatu Corgagensi
Scripfit Jun. Ann. Dom. 1723.
Sæpe etiam fpelunca immani aperitur hiatu Exesa è fcopulis, et utrinque foramina pandit, Hinc atque hinc a ponto ad pontum pervia Phoebo. Cautibus enorme junctis laquearia tecti
16 Formantur; moles olim ruitura supernè. Fornice fublimi nidos posuere palumbes, Inque imo stagni posuere cubilia phocæ.
Sed, cum sævit hyms, et venti, carcere rupto, 20 Immenfus volvunt fluctus ad culmina montis, Non obfeffe arces, non fulmina vindice dextrâ Missa Jovis, quoties inimicas fævit in urbes, VOL. VIII.
Exæquant fonitum undarum, veniente procellâ :
25 Gens affueta mari, et pedibus percurrere rupes, . Terretur tamen, et longe fugit, arva relinquens.
Gramina dum carpunt pendentes rupe capellæ, Vi falientis aquæ de fummo præcipitantur, Et dulces animas imo sub gurgite linquunt. 30
Piscator terrâ non audit vellere funem ;
(We have added a translation of the proceeding poem for the benefit of our Englith readers.
It is done by Mr. W. Dunkin, M. A. for whom our fuppofed author hath expressed a great regard on account of his ingenious performances, although unacquainted with him. ]
CARBERY Rocks in the county of Cork
LO O! from the top of yonder cliff, that shrouds
Its airy head amidst the azure clouds, Hangs a huge fragment; destitute of props, Prone on the waves the rocky ruin drops ! With horse rebut the swelling feas rebound, 5 From thore to shore the rocks return the found : The dreadful murmur heaven's high convex cleaves, And Neptune fhrinks beneath his subject waves :
For long the whirling winds and beating tides
rs To crush earth's rebel-fons beneath the load,
Oft too with hideous yawn the caverns wide
But when bleak Winter with his fullen train 25 Awakes the winds to vex the wat’ry plain ; When o'er the craggy steep without control, Big with the blast, the raging billows roll; Not towns beleaguer'd, not the faming brand, Darted from heav'n by Jove's avenging hand, 30 Oft as on impious men his wrath he pours, Humbles their pride, and blasts their gilded
tow'rs, Equal the tumult of this wild uproar: Waves rush o'er waves, rebellows fhore to fhore. The neighb'ring race, though wont to brave the shocks
35. Of angry feas, and run along the rocks, Now pale with terror, while the ocean foams, Fly far and wide, nor trust their native homes.
The goats, while pendent from the mountain-top The wither'd herb improvident they crop, 40
Wash down the precipice with fudden sweep,
45 Wearies with vows the monarch of the main.
Upon the Horrid PLOT discovered by HARLEQUIN,
the Bishop of Rochester's French dog *.
In a dialogue between a Whig and a Tory.
Written in the year 1723.
I ask'd a Whig the other night,
How came this wicked plot to light?
Whg. But you must know this dog was lame,
* See the proceedings in parliament against Dr. Atterbury the Bithrp of Rochester, State trials, vol. 6. - He was nied by the Lords for a plot against the government, deprived of his bishopric, banished his native country, and died in France, Feb, 15, 1732.
Tory. A weighty argument indeed! Your evidence was lame : proceed : Come, help your lame dog o'er the stile.
15 Whig. Sir, you mistake me all this while : I mean a dog (without a joke) Can howl, and bark, but never spoke.
Tory. I'm still to seek, which dog you mean; Whether cur Plunket, or whelp Skean.
20" An English or an Irish hound; Or t'other puppy that was drown'd, Tr Mason, that abandon’d bitch : hen
pray be free, and tell me which : For every itander-by was marking,
25 That all the noise they made was barking. You
pay them well; the dogs have got Their dog-heads in a porridge-pot : And 'twas but just ; for wise men say, That ev'ry dog must have his day.
30 Dog Walpole laid a quart of nog on't, He'd either make a hog or dog on’t; And look'd, fince he has got his with,, As if he had thrown down a dich, Yet this I dare foretel you from it,
33 He'll soon return to his own vomit.
Whig. Besides this horrid plot was found. By Neynoe, after he was drown'd.
Tory. Why then the proverb is not right, Since you can teach dead dogs to bite.
40: Whig. I prov'd my propofition full.: Bur Jacobites are strangely dull. Now let me tell you plainly, Sir, . Our witness is a real cur, A dog of spirit for his years,
45 Has twice two legs, two hanging ears ; His name is Harlequin, I wot, And that's a name in every plot : Resolv'd to save the British nation, Though French by birth and education-;; 50 F 3