Joan saw the horns, Joan saw the tail,
Yet Joan as stoutly quaff'd,
And ever when she seiz'd her ale,
She clear'd it at a draught.
John star'd, with wonder petrify'd;
His hair stood on his pate;
And, "Why do'st guzzle now," he cried,
"At this enormous rate?"

"Oh! John," she said, " am I to blame?
"I can't, in conscience, stop:
"For sure 't would be a burning shame
"To leave the Devil a drop!"

Fat, clumsy, gouty, asthmatic, old, Panting against a post, his noddle scratch'd, And his sad story to a stranger told.— "Follow the thief," replied the stander-by; “Ah,sir!" said he, "these legs will wag no "more ;" [cry." "Alarm the neighbourhood with a hue and Alas, I've roar'd as long as lungs could “ roar.” [deavour; "Then," quoth the stranger, "vain is all enSans voice to call, suns vigour to pursue ; "And since your hat, of course, is gone for ever, "I'll e'en make bold to take your wig" adieu !"

FA

Magna est Veritas et prævalebit.
ALSEHOOD and Truth, in rival race,
Eternal contrast prove;
Falsehood speeds on with rapid pace,
Truth scarce appears to move.
Falsehood finds numbers in her course,
Who prompt assistance lend;
Ill-nature loves to aid her force,

And Folly stands her friend.
Guilt, Envy, Cunning, all make shift
To help her on her way,
And Fortune gives her many a lift,
No matter for foul play.
Yet, after all her efforts try'd,.
And all her circuit run,
When Time the vict'ry shall decide,
She'll end-where Truth begun!

Virtue indigenous in Englund.
VIRTUES and fashions jointly share

All England's pride, all England's care: From foreign fops, and coxcomb courts Fashions by wholesale she imports;

But let it, to her praise, be known,
Old England's virtues-are her own!

Fati valet Iora benigna..

WHEN Tom call'd in, one day, on Ned.

His wife was plaistering dearte's he Who sigh'd, but dar'd not shake it! Tis well Tom's pace is something slower, For had he come an hour before, He'd seen the vixen break it.

Brevis esse Laboro.

me to read."

Од

HATCH'D from alien eggs, along the meads
The jocund hen a troop of ducklings leads:
But when the dangers of the pool they brave,
And plunge intrepid in the dreadful wave,
High beats her Auttering heart, she calls, she
cries,

And restless, round and round the margin flies;
Alike unalter'd, nature's powers occur,
Instinct in them, parental care in her :
The offspring's deed proclaims a race unknown,
A mother's feelings prove the brood her own.

• Latin Learning of little use.

YOUR venerable chaplain once,

(Tho' now with age he bend)

Train'd here the scholar, lash'd the dunce,
A master and a friend.

o profit by his well-known care,

His child a butcher brought;

nd all the needful to prepare, A dictionary bought."

efore a week its course had run, The butcher came again :

Take back your book, give back my son," He cried with might and main.

Larning! 'tis money thrown away "Such larning to procure, The book don't shew, the boy can't say, "What's Latin-for a skewer."

More's meant than meets the Ear. WHEN doctors, twenty years ago,

Wore wigs of venerable flow, bodkin's swords' diminutive stump, uck right across each physic rump; hose short dimensions seem'd to say, Our object is to save, not slay." 1 emblem apt enough, I trow, # wicked wits pretend to show, swords so small, an apter still, We 've other ways than one to kill."

Nothing new under the Sun. HERE'S nothing new beneath the sun, So ancient wits' decisions run: But wit no match for poets is;

I know things, and so do you, 10' everlasting, ever new! What think you, sirs, of taxes?

"TWIXT those poets of old, and our poets of

late,

One perpetual distinction holds true: The new, in a twinkling, are all out of date, The old-will for ever be new!

The Power of Verse.

READ! read! the thread-bare poet cries,
New powers of verse I bring:
At every line new beauties rise
Spontaneous while I sing!

Poet! thy boast would seem more true,
One fact if thou couldst quote;
Had powers and beauties all so new
Procur'd thee—a new coat !

The Progress of Wigs.

WHEN Charles the First the sceptre bore,
Each grave divine, I trow,

A silken cap all sable wore,
With nine straight hairs below.
The restoration's jovial day

Chang'd with the men, the mode,
And orth'dox heads, in broad display,
The flaxen buckle show'd.

In Anna's reign, from general view
Th' enormous flaxens fled :
And lo! perukes of milk-white hue
Succeeded in their stead,

These too incurr'd, by lapse of years,
Disuse, tho' not disgrace;

New clerical brows requir'd new gears,
And grizzles took their place.
Yet still the wig's full form retain'd
The feather'd foretop's peak:
Yet still the solemn bush remain'd
To flank the rosy cheek.

But now! forgive the conscious muse,
That feels hier verse too bold :
What fashions modern reverends use,
You need not here be told.

Tho' new their taste, while they adopt
Their good forefathers ways;

The frizzled, the curl'd, the bald, the cropt,
Have all their claim to praise.

A

The Effect of Pulpit Eloquence.

VETERAN gambler, in a tempest caught, Once in his life a church's shelter sought Where many an hint pathetically grave, On Life's precarious lot the preacher gave. The sermon ended, and the storm all spent, Home trudg'd oldCog-die, reasoning as he went "Strict truth," quoth he, "this rev'rend sage "declar'd,

"I feel conviction, and will be prepar'd ;

Nor e'er henceforth—since life thus steals "Give credit for a bet-beyond a day!" [away,

A

Case in the Constitutional Court. FARMER, as records report, Most hugely discontented, His vicar at the Bishop's Court For gross neglect presented.

"Our former priest, my Lord," he said,

“Each Sunday the year round, "Some Greek in his discourses read, "And charming was the sound! "Not such our present parson's phrase, "No Greek does he apply; "But says in English all he says, "As you might speak, or I. "And yet for this so simple style,

"He claims each tythe and due; "Pigs, pippins, poultry, all the while, "And Easter off 'rings too!"

"You're skill'd in languages, I guess,"

Th' amaz'd diocesan cry'd : "I know no language, more or less," The surly clown reply'd.

"But Greek, I've heard the learned Surpasses all the rest;

"And since 'tis for the best we pay, "We ought to have the best."

All not Gold that glitters.

say,

WHY sleeps, benumb'd, the conscious mind? When social good craves virtue's zeal? Whoe'er can benefit mankind,

Is Heav'n's trustee, for human weal. To hide true worth from public view, Is burying diamonds in their mine: All's not gold that shines, 'tis true; But all that is gold-ought to shine!

By THEOPHILUS SWIFT, Esq. The rooted aversion entertained by the late Robinson, of the King's Bench, in Ireland the volunteers of that country, in the 1780, is well known. The following was occasioned by a circumstance that act took place about that period in the court he was then sitting.

"THAT soldier so rude, he swagge "scarlet;

“Put him out of the court; I'll impris "varlet."

"A soldier I'm not," quoth the hero in "No soldier, my Lord, but an officer L "A captain who carries his sword on his Stern Robinson then, with sarcastical sp Roll'd his sharp eagle-eye on the vain vol And Tipstaff," he cried, as the captai

66

bolder,

"Out, out with that officer who is no se

Bargains. NED's thrifty spouse, her taste to please,

With rival dames at auctions vies; Is charm'd with ev'ry thing she sees,

And ev'ry thing she sees she buys.

And more that whiteness to adorn,
She stole the blushes of the morn;
Stole all the softness Ether pours
On primrose buds, in vernal show'rs.
There's no repeating all her wiles:
She stole the Graces' winning smiles;
'Twas quickly seen she robb'd the sky,
To plant a star in either eye;
She pilfer'd orient pearl for teeth,
And stole the cow's ambrosial breath;
The cherry, steep'd in morning dew,
Gare moisture to her lips and hue.

These were her infant spoils; a store
To which, in time, she added more:
At twelve she stole from Cyprus' Queen
Here air and love-commanding mien;
Stole Juno's dignity; and stole,
From Pallas, sense to charm the soul;
She sung-amaz'd the Syrens heard,
And to assert their voice appear'd;
She play'd-the Muses from their hill
Wonder'd who thus had stole their skill;
Apollo's wit was next her prey,

And then rise beams that light the day;
While Jove, her pilfering thefts to crown,
Pronounc'd these beauties all her own,
Pardon'd her crimes, and prais'd her art;
And t' other day she stole my heart.
Cupid! if lovers are thy care,
Revenge thy votary on the fair;
Do justice on her stolen charms,
And let her prison be-my arms.

SHAKSPEARE.

Beauty's Value.
BEAUTY is but a vain, a fleeting good,

A shining gloss that faded suddenly;
A flow'r that dies when almost in the bud,
A brittle glass that breaketh presently.
A fleeting good, a gloss, a glass, a flow'r,
Lost, faded, broken, dead, within an hour.
As goods when lost we know are seldom found,
As fading gloss no rubbing can excite;
As flow'rs when dead are trampled on the
ground,

As broken glass no cement can unite; So beauty, blemish'd once, is ever lost, In spite of physic, painting, pains, and cost.

On the frequent Defeats of the French Army in the last War. An Epigram. THE toast of each Briton in war's dread alarms;

O'er bottle or bowl, is success to our arms; Attack'd, put to flight, and soon forc'd from each trench,

Success to our legs is the toast of the French.

Epitaph on a Scolding Wife.

H She finds repuse at last-and so do I.
ERE lies my wife; poor Molly! let her lie:

To

On a certain Lady's Study. Chloe's study shall we go, '(For ladies have their studies now) O what a splendid sight is there! Twould make the dullest hermit stare: There stand, all rang'd in proud array, Each French romance, and modera play; Love's magazine of flames and darts, Whole histories of eyes and hearts: But O! view well the outward scene, You'll never need to look within; What Chloe loves she plainly shews, For, lo! her very book's are beaus,