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Yet in his death, and in his dying pray'r,
The woe-worn orphan was his latest care;
A fund he left, fway'd by the nobleft rule,
To teach the orphan in a public school,
To learn each duty of the moral creed,
To clothe the naked, and the poor to feed ;
And order'd yearly, on a certain day,
His trustees should his last bequests obey,
And give to all who could in justice claim
The boafted honour of his humble name;
This his beheft whilft fall the trickling rains,
Whilft trees fpring up, and rivers grace the
plains,

Whilft morning dawns, night spreads her curtains dark;

So liv'd, fo dy'd, the good old Man of Wark!
A rare example, and deferving praise,
That fhames, the customs of our wanton
days!

Read what's below, give honor where you

can,

The one's a knight, the other an honest man.

Sir Thomas lives, the laft of all his line,
Whofe ancestors in Honor's annals shine;
The last but worst, a fhameful falling-off,
The orphan's terror, and the widow's fcoff.
To fly the forrows of a wedded life,
He hates the grating mention of a wife,
Yet keeps his whores, ftern truth maintains
the tale,

And fets his offspring up to public fale;
On turtles fattens, to indulge the fenfe,
Loves the dear gout, but hates the vast ex-

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keeps,

And 'midit the howling tempeft foundly Пceps;

Bids the poor widow, to encrease her fare, Like the cameleon, feed on putrid air.

How wide the diff'rence, how distinct the mind,

Twixt thofe two beings of the human kind!
One liv'd by labor, and he liv'd for all ;
The other lives, yet deaf to hunger's call.
A dupe to cunning, and a slave to fear,
A wretch he's with twelve thousand pounds
a year:

Defpis'd he lives, unmoan'd, unwept he'll die, Tho' fculptur'd bufts fhew where his reliques lie.

Here many a fool fhall pass the filent place, And his contempt for fuch well-carn'd dif

grace;

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Where'er they ftray beneath propitious skies,
Soft mufic trills, etherial forms appear;
Vifions withheld but from poetic eyes,
And founds that only greet the purged ear *.
Shall then the rigid critic's wrinkled brow,
Shall fimp'ring Folly's vain contemptuous
fneer,

Bid us no more our ardent hopes avow,
And damp the rifing glow with chilling
fear?

Not fo, my friends-while these gay scenes ye rove,

Where

youthful MILTON nurs'd his growing flame,

Where GRAY in Fancy loom his raptures wove,

Parfue the track that leads to living fame. As when to Glory's feats the Prophet flew, To his lov'd friend the mantle he refign'd, JOHNSON, bleft shade! fhall his on Piozzi view,

His nervous fenfe with female foftnefs join'd.

Thy cypress wreath, Melpomene, to gain GREATHEAD fhall fcorn thro' meaner walks to ftray;

And MERRY pour his ever-varying ftrain, Crown'd by cach Mufe, the ferious and the gay.

I too, allur'd by love of lofty rhyme,
Left the white cliff where Britain's furges

roar ;

And much I hop'd from this infpiring clime, AR NO's rich vale and TIBUR'S claffic shore.

Haply, I faid, the Mufe may there be found By me. Vain thought! To Genius close allied,

For him with equal force the breathes around EARTHAM'S chill feat and LAVANT'S fcanty tide.

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Or take the waiter's place-an office harder,
To recommend the literary larder,
Where ready.drefs'd of every fort and kind,
They fhew the motley hodge-podge of the
mind;

Here half-ftarv'd, meagre, and unwholesome food,

There intellectual dainties fresh and good. For those who chuse the standing dish and big,

Ox is the epic poem; grunting pig

The whimp'ring elegy, whofe vexing whine
Serves many a growling auditor to dine;
For lamb, that taftelefs thing 'twixt milk
and grafs,

The vapid paftoral may fairly pass;
For those who are to fatire more inclin'd,
The pickled ftings of epigrams you find;
Bitters, diftill'd from hyffop, ruc,
and nettles,
Dozens of larks as birth-day odes appear,
The acid ftomach of the critic fettles;
That foar awhile to usher in the year,
Then in the furrow fink forgotten things,
And fcarce remember'd that they e'er had
wings;-

Small birds are novels, wild geefe old

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Some five moons past, your favour to

attain, Arm'd cap-a-pie I fought the warlike plain;

For your diverfion I a lover figh'd-
For you I mov'd an hero, bled, and dy'd.
"Can none remember?-Yes, I know all
muft,"

When cover'd o'er with honourable dust,
I lately bore the life-confuming dart,
And felt the poifon'd arrow at my heart.
For you this night I rife again, and come,
Fill'd with the genius of immortal Rome;

MILTON'S ARCADES.

The heav'nly tune which none can hear Of human mold with grofs impurged ear. + Eartham in Suffex, the feat of Mr. Hayley, author of feveral celebrated modern poems, though beautified by his tafte, is naturally expofed and barren.-The Lavant is a ftream that flows under the walls of Chichester, and is so very insignificant, that its channel is fometimes entirely dry; yet the masterly compofitions of Collins, who lived in that neighbourhood, have made it vie with the most diftinguished rivers of antiquity.

Alluding to the representation of the Siege of Damafcus, in which play Mr. Fector performed Phocyas.

Once

Once more, in flight array my troops I bring,

And make my general mufter for the fpring;
My little corps are drawn up in review,
And if my fons must fall they fall for you.
Yet foft methinks I hear you justly deem-
This boafted condu&t feififh in extreme;
Our aim is pleafure, if that aim fucceed,
Our felf-love muft be gratified indeed!
The highest intereft is fill to fhare
Each pleafure with the generous and fair.
This is our plea, and grateful the delight,
That thus divides th' amusements of the
night.

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ADIES and Gentlemen-it is no fire! "Good God! what is't ?"-you inftantly require;

I'm really in a moft confounded fright, Believe me-there's no EPILOGUE to-night. "No Epilogue?" I hear you wond'ring fay, "None ?"" Then, you cry, the devil take "the play.

66

"What? mult we difmal part, and feck our

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rain ;

To climb Parnaffus could I boat the fkill,
I'd bring fuch treafures from the facred hill!
Yet now I think again [Studying], immortal
verfe [ironically}

At this time is most lamentably scarce!
Engag'd the life of Johnfon to compofe,
The Mufes all are bufy writing profe,,
Collecting every anecdote they can

Of that oracular, that wond'rous man, Whom Cheiterfield, with difappointment hot,

Unfairly call'd a letter'd Hottentot.

I thought of entertaining you with news, But lo! the world hath nothing to amufe: The dogs that like a Veltris danc'd a jig, That Solomon of brutes the learned pig, The wonder of each Cockney and his dame, No longer fill the kundred mouths of Fame; Like plays and operas they have had their

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Till pitying all-and ev'n thy foes forgiven, Thy candid fpirit-feeks its native heaven.

Chichefer, May 8, 1786.

D.

EPITAPH on Dr. JOHNSON. By SOAME JENYNS, Efq.

H'

ERE lies poor Johnson ! Reader, have

a care,

Tread lightly, left you roufe a fleeping Bear.
Religious, moral, generous. and humane
He was, but fell-fufficient, rude and vain;
Ill-bred and overbearing in difpute,
A scholar and a chriftian, yet a brute.
Wou'd you know all his wifdom and his
folly,

His actions, fayings, mirth and melancholy,
Bofwell and Thrale, retailers of his wit,
Will tell you how he wrote, and talk'd, and
cough'd and fpit.

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SPRING.

IS the Linnet's early note Marks the glad return of spring 'Tis the odours mild that float On every Zephyr's balmy wing; 'Tis the morning's filvery dew;

'Tis the violet's azure bell; 'Tis the fnow-drop's virgin hue; The yellow primrofe fragrant fmell; 'Tis the harmless lambkin's bleat; 'Tis the bud on every fpray; 'Tis the vallies which repeat

The ploughman's note fo blithe and gay:

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OME Fancy, Nature's pleafing child, Advance with the advancing year; Come Zephyr's foft, Favonian, mild, And on your wings pure fragrance bear. For, lo! like fome gay fparkling bride,

Prepar'd for Hymen's gentleft band, Young Spring appears in blooming pride, Difpenfing pleasures round the land. From fouthern climes, unknown to fame,

Or vet'ran Cooke's exploring eye, Midit father Neptune's mild domain, Where ne'er was known the wintry sky, She comes! Around her airy Pow'rs, Young Loves and Graces fportive play, And vernal funs and vernal show'rs,

With all the fweets of heav'nly May.

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bcam,

I'd wish to feek the fhelt'ring bow'r,
The thick-iprung fhade and cooling stream;
With thee, dear Ellen, gentle fair,

Enjoying all the feafon yields,
The rambling walk, the fragrant air,
Hygeian joys and flow'ry fields.
Where trees o'erhang its fhaggy brow,

Thy fav'rite rock's gay fyivan pride,
Let us afcend, and joyous view

Beneath, the Eden's peaceful tide. From this exalted feat the Muse

Enjoys a fair enchanting fcene, Walks, ftatues, buildings, rural views, And matchlefs fhades of pureft green. Delightful land! Here Nature plays Atwill'midit rocks, and woods, and dells; Here beauty ev'ry charm difplays,

And ev'ry guardian Genius dwells. Here bleft in all my heart holds dear, With claiping arms I'd wish to prove Thofe mutual joys that flow fincere; For Spring's thy feafon, pow'rtul Love. Carlile.

PHILOMUSUS.

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THEATRICAL JOURNAL.

APRIL 24, The Bird in a Cage, a Comedy,

by James Shirley, originally published in 1633, was revived at Covent-Garden for the benefit of Mr. Quick. This drama poffeffes many of the beauties, and most of the defects, of our ancient theatrical performances. It is incorrect, extravagant, and improbable ; but, at the fame time, it is in many parts poetical, fhrewd, various, and enlivening. The characters were in general well performed; and Mrs. Wells, who performed Eugenia, the principal female character, fpoke the following Epilogue, written by Capt. Topham.

WELL, gentle dames, though barr'd and
bolted faft,

I am, as women will be, free at last:
And where's the right which daring men in-
herit,

To bind in chains the free-born female fpirit!
No- Let us keep our order and our charter,
And hold the ribband still above the garter.
For while this gallant mind the fex can
hoaft,

Need Acts of Parliament defend our coaft?
Invafion's threat no female heart appals-
Our husbands, they may stand as wooden
walls-

While woman, fafe on fhore, defends the
nation,

Herfelf one general, vaft fortification.
High o'er her head the standard plume she

rears

For gay recruits, and Flattery's volunteers.
While ambush'd Cupids lie in wait to kill
From groves of gauze and battlements of
frill,

Herself, the mistress of the works, shall stand,
With ordnance bills and data in her hand,

Arm'd at all points each Gallic heart to

fmother,

One end in oppofition to the other-
Before-th' advancing foe no hope fhall find,
And wifely guarded 'gainst surprize behind.

In aid of this fhall come a corps of beaux, Loft 'twixt two cannon curls each puggish nofe;

A gentle band they move-above their fears
As far as are their capes above their ears.
O'er Plymouth tops in Opera steps they dance,
To take the fashions as they land from France.

If fuch the fate our beaux and belles can

wield,
Where is that daring power will take the
field?

In fubtle guife, and without beat of drum,
By art invifible" fhall Gallia come,
To meet the "fimple Sufans" of our fair,

Caps a la Reine, and every fool's cap there;
"While nicer skill fhall, from oppofing zeal,
"Some freth Ambassador for commerce steal,
"Who a new reciprocity enfures,
"Aud barters English fteel for French
"Liqueurs."

Say, grave and reverend Signors, will you

then,

Commit to ladies what belongs to men?
Truft to our management the conftitution?
Your gentle ayes will pass the refolution.
But fhould you equally divide on this-
I am the Speaker, and my vote fays-Yes.

[The lines included in the "inverted commas" were omitted in the (peaking.]

Afterwards was revived, if fuch a mutilation deferves the name of a revival, "The

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