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TO THE IMMORTAL MEMORY OF THE HALIBUT

ON WHICH I DINED THIS DAY, MONDAY, APRIL 26, 1784.

WHERE hast thou floated? in what seas pursued
Thy pastime? When wast thou an egg new spawned,
Lost in the immensity of ocean's waste?

Roar as they might, the overbearing winds

That rocked the deep, thy cradle, thou wast safe-
And in thy minikin and embryo state,

Attached to the firm leaf of some salt weed,
Didst outlive tempests, such as wrung and racked
The joints of many a stout and gallant bark,
And whelmed them in the unexplored abyss.
Indebted to no magnet and no chart,
Nor under guidance of the polar fire,
Thou wast a voyager on many coasts,
Grazing at large in meadows submarine,
Where flat Batavia, just emerging, peeps
Above the brine,-where Caledonia's rocks
Beat back the surge, and where Hibernia shoots
Her wondrous causeway far into the main.

Wherever thou hast fed, thou little thought'st,
And I not more, that I should feed on thee.

Peace, therefore, and good health, and much good fish,
To him who sent thee! and success, as oft

As it descends into the billowy gulf,

To the same drag that caught thee!-Fare thee well!
Thy lot thy brethren of the slimy fin

Would envy, could they know that thou wast doomed
To feed a bard, and to be praised in verse.

TO A LADY

WHO WORE A LOCK OF HIS HAIR SET WITH DIAMONDS.

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356

ON THE AUTHOR OF “LETTERS ON LITERATURE.”

WRITTEN ON A PAGE OF "THE MONTHLY REVIEW,"

WHICH HAD SPOKEN OF MR. NEWTON'S OPINIONS AS CANT.

1784.

THESE critics, who to faith no quarter grant,
But call it mere hypocrisy and cant
To make a just acknowledgment of praise,
And thanks to God for governing our ways,
Approve Confucius more, and Zoroaster,

Than Christ's own servant, or that servant's Master.

EPITAPH ON DR. JOHNSON.

HERE Johnson lies, a sage by all allowed,

Whom to have bred may well make England proud;
Whose prose was eloquence, by wisdom taught,
The graceful vehicle of virtuous thought;

Whose verse may claim, grave, masculine, and strong,
Superior praise to the mere poet's song;

Who many a noble gift from Heaven possessed,

And faith at last, alone worth all the rest.

O man, immortal by a double prize,
By fame on earth, by glory in the skies!
Jan. 1785.

ON THE AUTHOR OF "LETTERS ON LITERATURE."

THE genius of the Augustan age

His head among Rome's ruins reared,

And bursting with heroic rage,
When literary Heron appeared,

"Thou hast," he cried, "like him of old
Who set the Ephesian dome on fire,

By being scandalously bold,

Attained the mark of thy desire;

"And for traducing Virgil's name

Shalt share his merited reward;

A perpetuity of fame,

That rots, and stinks, and is abhorred."

* Nominally by Robert Heron, but written by John Pinkerton. 8vo. 1785.

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THE YEARLY DISTRESS;

OR, TITHING TIME AT STOCK, IN ESSEX.

Verses addressed to a country Clergyman, complaining of the disagreeableness of the day annually appointed for receiving the dues at the Parsonage.

COME, ponder well, for 'tis no jest,

To laugh it would be wrong,
The troubles of a worthy priest,
The burden of my song.

This priest he merry is and blithe
Three quarters of a year,
But oh! it cuts him like a scythe
When tithing-time draws near.

He then is full of frights and fears,
As one at point to die,
And long before the day appears
He heaves up many a sigh.

For then the farmers come jog, jog,
Along the miry road,
Each heart as heavy as a log,

To make their payments good.

In sooth, the sorrow of such days
Is not to be expressed,

When he that takes, and he that pays,
Are both alike distressed.

Now, all unwelcome at his gates,

The clumsy swains alight, With rueful faces and bald patesHe trembles at the sight.

And well he may, for well he knows Each bumpkin of the clan, Instead of paying what he owes, Will cheat him if he can.

So in they come-each makes his leg,
And flings his head before,
And looks as if he came to beg,
And not to quit a score.

"And how does Miss and Madam do, 'The little boy and all ?"

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LINES COMPOSED FOR A MEMORIAL OF ASHLEY COWPER, ESQ.

IMMEDIATELY AFTER HIS DEATH,

BY HIS NEPHEW WILLIAM OF WESTON.

FAREWELL! endued with all that could engage
All hearts to love thee, both in youth and age!
In prime of life, for sprightliness enrolled
Among the gay, yet virtuous as the old;

In life's last stage, (O blessing rarely found!)
Pleasant as youth with all its blossoms crowned,
Through every period of this changeful state
Unchanged thyself-wise, good, affectionate!

Marble may flatter, and lest this should seem
O'ercharged with praises on so dear a theme,
Although thy worth be more than half supprest,
Love shall be satisfied, and veil the rest.
June 1788.

SONNET,

ADDRESSED TO HENRY COWPER, ESQ.

On his emphatical and interesting delivery of the defence of Warren Hastings, Esq. in the House of Lords.

COWPER, whose silver voice, tasked sometimes hard,
Legends prolix delivers in the ears

(Attentive when thou readest) of England's peers,

Let verse at length yield thee thy just reward.

Thou wast not heard with drowsy disregard,

Expending late on all that length of plea

Thy generous powers; but silence honoured thee,
Mute as e'er gazed on orator or bard.

Thou art not voice alone, but hast beside

Both heart and head; and couldst with music sweet

Of Attic phrase and senatorial tone,

Like thy renowned forefathers, far and wide
Thy fame diffuse, praised not for utterance meet
Of others' speech, but magic of thy own.

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