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Illuminate my mind :
Desert the street, resume the plain,
Rejoin your derelicted swain,-

Be prudent as you're kind.
My brows, obumbrated with age,
Hang scowling o'er life's latter page

But you, like lunar beam,
Through my nimbosity arise ;
Dispensing, from your lucid eyes,
Refocillating gleam.

ANONYMOUS.

DEATH AND THE DOCTOR.

ON A PHYSICIAN LAMPOONING A FRIEND OF THE

AUTHOR.

As Doctor **** musing sat,

Death saw, and came without delay : Enters the room, begins the chat

With Doctor, why so thoughtful, pray? The doctor started from his place,

But soon they more familiar grew: And then he told his piteous case,

How trade was low, and friends were few. • Away with fear,' the phantom said,

As soon as he had heard his tale: • Take my advice and mend your trade,

We both are losers if you fail. 'Go write, your wit in satire show, No matter whether smart or true;

names, the greatest foe To dulness, folly, pride, and you. VOL, V.

Call ****

мм

• Then copies spread, there lies the trick,

Among your friends be sure to send them: For all who read will soon grow sick,

And when you're call’d upon, attend them. « Thus trade increasing by degrees,

Doctor, we both shall have our ends:
For you are sure to have your fees,
And I am sure to have your friends.'

GARRICK.

PARODY ON SAPPHO'S ODE.

TO A CERTAIN REVIEWER.

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WHEN in the Aristarchal chair
You sit to make the people stare;
That wight, who reads your solemn stuff,
That wretched wight is damn'd enough.
At every pert and pompous line
Where cavils, quips, and quibbles shine,
My fingers itch, I fairly own,
To knock so grave a blockhead down.
I sicken at your paltry gibes,
And doze upon your diatribes;
Till in the spirit of all evil
I wish your gabble at the devil:
Page after page, behind my grate,
Of quillet, quirk, and Billingsgate
Catch in their turn the creeping fire,
Flutter in tinder, and expire.

C. A. ELTON.

THE CHEAT'S APOLOGY.

'Tis my vocation, Hal! Shakspeare.

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Look round the wide world, each profession you'll find

[call; Hath something dishonest, which mystery they Each knave points another, at home is stark blind,

Except but his own, there's a cheat in them all: When tax'd with imposture the charge he'llevade, And like Falstaff pretend he but lives by his trade. The hero ambitious (like Philip's great son,

Who wept when he found no more mischief to do) Never scruples a neighbouring realm to o’errun,

While slaughters and carnage his sabre imbrue; Of rapine and murder the charge he'll evade, For conquest is glorious, and fighting his trade. The statesman, who steers by wise Machiavel's

rules,
Is ne'er to be known by his tongue or his face;
They're traps by him used to catch credulous fools,

And breach of his promise he counts no disgrace;
But policy calls it, reproach to evade,
For flattery's his province, cajoling his trade.
The priest will instruct you this world to despise,

With all its vain pomp, for a kingdom on high;
While earthly preferments are chiefly his prize,

And all bis pursuits give his doctrine the lie; He'll plead you the gospel your charge to evade: The labourer's entitled to live by his trade.

The lawyer, as oft on the wrong side as right,

Wbo tortures for fee the true sense of the laws, While black he by sophistry proves to be white,

And falsehood and perjury lists in his cause ; With steady assurance all crime will evade, His client's his care, and he follows his trade. The sons of Machaon, who thirsty for gold

The patient past cure visit thrice in a day, Write largely, the Pharmacop league to uphold,

While Poverty's left to diseases a prey; Are held in repute for their glittering parade; Their practice is great,and they shine in their trade. Since then in all stations imposture is found,

No one of another can justly complain; The coin he receives will pass current around,

And where he is cozen'd he cozens again : But I, who for cheats this apology made, Cheat myself by my rhyming, and starve by my trade.

J. ELLIS.

CEREALIA*.
AN IMITATION OF MILTON, 1706.

Per ambages, Deorumque ministeria
Præcipitandus est liber spiritas. Petronius.

Op English tipple and the potent grain
Which in the conclave of celestial powers
Bred fell debate, sing, Nymph of heavenly stem !
Who on the hoary top of Penmanmaur

. This poem was taken from a folio copy printed in 1706, and communicated from the Lambeth Library by Dr. Ducarel, in

1

Merlin the seer didst visit, while he sat
With astrolabe prophetic, to foresee
Young actions issuing from the Fates' divan.
Full of thy power, infused by nappy Ale,
Darkling he watch'd the planetary orbs
In their obscure sojourn o'er heaven's high cope,
Nor ceased till the gray dawn with orient dew
Impearld his large mustaches, deep ensconced
Beneath his overshadowing orb of hat,
And ample fence of elephantine nose;
Scornful of keenest polar winds or sleet
Or hail, sent rattling down from wintry Jove,
(Vain efforts on his sevenfold mantle made
Of Caledonian rug, immortal woof!)
Such energy of soul to raise the song,
Deign, goddess! now to me; nor then withdraw
Thy sure presiding power, but guide my wing,
Which nobly meditates no vulgar flight.

Now from the’ensanguined Ister's reeking flood,
Tardy with many a corse of Božan knight
And Gallic deep ingulf'd, with barbed steeds
Promiscuous, Fame to high Olympus flew,
Shearing the’expanse of heaven with active plume;
Nor swifter from Plinlimmon's steepy top
The stanch gerfalcon through the buxom air
Stoops on the steerage of his wings, to truss
The quarry, hern or mallard, newly sprung
From creek, whence bright Sabrina bubbling forth
Runs fast a Naïs through the flowery meads,
To spread round Uriconium's towers her streams.

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which the name of Philips was inserted in the hand-writing of Archbishop Tennison. It was published by T. Bennet, the bookseller for whom Blenheim was printed; a strong presumptive proof of this being by the same author.

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