REPORT

OF AN ADJUDGED CASE, NOT TO BE FOUND IN

ANY OF THE BOOKS.

BBTWBEN Nose and Eyes a strange contest arose;

The spectacles set them, unhappily, wrong; The point in dispute was, as all the world knows,

To which the said spectacles ought to belong.

So Tongue was the lawyer, and argued the cause

With a great deal of skill, and a wig full of learning, While Chief Baron Ear sat to balance the laws,

So fam'd for his talent in nicely discerning.

In behalf of the Nose it will quickly appear,

Aud your lordship, he said, will undoubtedly find, That the Nose has had spectacles always in wear,

Which amounts to possession, time out of mind.

Then, holding the spectacles up to the court,-
Your lordship observes they are made with a

straddle,
As wide as the ridge of the Nose is; in short,

Design'd to sit close to it, just like a saddle.

Again, would your lordship a moment suppose

('Tis a case that has happen'd, and may be again) That the visage or countenance had not a nose, Pray who would, or who could, wear spectacles On the whole, it appears, and my argument shows,

With a reas'ning the court will never condemn, That the spectacles plainly were made for the Nose,

And the Nose was as plainly intended for them.

Then shifting his side, (as a lawyer knows how,)

He pleaded again in behalf of the Eyes ;
But what were bis arguments few people know,

For the court did not think they were equally wise.

So his lordship decreed, with a grave solemn tone,

Decisive and clear, without one if or but,That, whenever the Nose put his spectacles on,

By daylight or candlelight-Eyes should be shut!

TO WILLIAM HAYLEY, ESQ.

DBAR architect of fine CHATEAUX in air

Worthier to stand for ever, if they could,

Than any built of stone, or yet of wood,
For back of royal elephant to bear!
Oh! for permission from the skies to share-

Much to my own, though little to thy good,

With thee (not subject to the jealous mood) A partnership of literary ware! But I am bankrupt now; and doom'd, henceforth,

To drudge, in descant dry, on others' lays,Bards, I acknowledge, of unequall'd worth!

But what is commentator's happiest praise? That he has furnish'd lights for other eyes, Which they, who need them, use, and then despise.

THE ROSE.

The rose had been wash'd, just wash'd in a shower,

Which Mary to Anna convey'd;
The plentiful moisture encumber'a the flower,

And weigh'd down its beautiful head.

The

cup was all fill’d, and the leaves were all wet, And it seem'd, to a fanciful view, To weep for the buds it had left, with regret,

On the flourishing bush where it grew.

I hastily seizd it, unfit as it was

For a nosegay, so dripping and drown'd; And, swinging it rudely, too rudely, alas !

I snapp'd it-it fell to the ground.

And such, I exclaim'd, is the pitiless part

Some act, by a delicate mind,
Regardless of wringing and breaking a heart

Already to sorrow resign'd.

This elegant rose, had I shaken it less,

Might have bloom'd with its owner awhile; And the tear that is wip'd with a little address

May be follow'd, perhaps, with a smile.

THE DOVES.

Reas’NING at ev'ry step he treads,

Man yet mistakes his way ; While meaner things, whom instinct leads,

Are rarely known to stray.

One silent eve I wander'd late,

And heard the voice of love; The turtle thus address'd her mate,

And sooth'd the list’ning dove:

Our mutual bond of faith and truth

No time shall disengage;
Those blessings of our early youth

Shall cheer our latest age ;

While innocence without disguise,

And constancy sincere,
Shall fill the circles of those eyes,

And mine can read them there ;

Those ills that wait on all below

Shall ne'er be felt by me, Or gently felt, and only so,

As being shard with thee.

When lightnings flash among the trees,

Or kites are hov'ring near,
I fear lest thee alone they seize,

And know no other fear.

'Tis then I feel myself a wife,

And press thy wedded side,
Resolvd, a union form’d for life

Death never shall divide.

But oh! if, fickle and unchaste,

(Forgive a transient thought,) Thon could become unkind at last,

And scorn thy present lot,

No need of lightnings from on high,

Or kites with cruel beak :
Denied th' endearments of thine eye,

This widow'd heart would break.

Thus sang the sweet sequester'd bird,

Soft as the passing wind;
And I recorded what I heard

A lesson for mankind.

Printed for W. Cole, 10, Newgate Street, London.