But, on the British fide, I ween The tim'rous children may be feen : They fear the modern thund'rer will jump over, Suck at a draught (to wash them down) the Thames ; Then fet our houses and our ships in flames! Fye-fye-good countrymen-let's not be fcar'd, Whilft we've fo many oaken boards between us; And, if these wooden bulwarks fhould not fkreen us, Why-then, I think, we'd prove-e'en for his teeth too hard. EPIGRAM. HE Corfican roars in a voice loud as thunder, TH "The fair fields of Britain I'll ravage and plunder!" John calmly replies" If you can, Sir, you may; And for your kind vifit let me fix the day." "What, you!" exclaims Bony: "Yes, ftorm till you burft, But I fhall not expect you till April the first.” A HINT ACROSS THE CHANNEL. OU make fuch a pother, From one month to t'other, 'Bout coming our Isle to fubdue; That fhould you delay Still the vifit to pay, Our armies fhall-"wait upon you! PRENEZ GARDE GALLUS ET TAURUS. ALL Europe, from one end to t'other, God bless us, here's a mighty pother, * France. + England. TRANSLATION TRANSLATION OF A GERMAN DISTICH ON A NEIGHBOURING STATE. HER flaves are foldiers, and her foldiers flaves! Her knaves are rulers, and her rulers knaves! THE CONSUL IN LOVE. YES, the Conful's in love! not with glory nor pelf, AUT CÆSAR, AUT NULLUS. BONAPARTE, of Europe the general teafer, EGO. Moft modeftly thinks himself greater than Cæfar; And the fchemes with which now he propofes to gull us, If not make him a Cæfar, will fure prove him Nullus. BOB BAYONET. ON THE DISCOMFITURE OF THE FRENCH BY THE NEGROES OF ST. DOMINGO. AID Bony to his Negro brother SAID "Why fhould true blacks destroy each other?" Though black, we are not black like you : The black with you is all-within.” TWO THE MAID OF LEEDS. A TALE. [From the Morning Herald.] VO Yorkshire Justices, poft-hafte, Summon'd a lass with roundish waist, And the appear'd before 'em. "Here, pretty maid," faid one, and fmil'd, "But come a little nearer; You certainly are great with child, Nothing on earth is clearer." I. O. U. "Clear "Clear as the fun," quoth t'other chief; That stole your virgin-treasure." "'T was him, your worships, I declare,"-" "Indeed? oh, then, we'll paufe a bit, Till he arrives at Dover, Where we are told our brother Pitt Νίκο THE PREVAILING FAIR; OR, THE PEACOCK AND PLUM PUDDING." THE gun-boats at Boulogne were moor'd, For there the thought her love to find "Tell me, ye gentle failors! tell me true, Does my fweet Bony, does my fweet Bony fail among your crew ?" Bony was in the timber-yard, Driving the workmen to and fro; Soon as her well-known voice he heard, A carpenter efcap'd a blow! The knotted fcourge forfook his glowing hands, And quick as lightning, quick as lightning by her fide he ftands. "O Bony, Bony, lovely dear! Why will you venture o'er the main ? And doubt we ne'er fhall meet again. I dream'd a difmal dream, my love, laft night; Feel how my heart, feel how my heart yet palpitates with fright "Methought a huge plum-pudding stood And ftill you feem'd to cry, 'I'll eat no more!' to roar. "His bayonet another drew, And pick'd your teeth against your will! Something about-an opium pill, And fung it in your ear, with fuch a note, My very heart, my very heart bounc'd almost up my throat!" Why-let another take my room—: And if he falls, and if he falls-adieu to brave Moreau ! "When to fair India's coaft I fail, And Selim's troops with mine unite, That Tippoo form'd of diamonds bright This o'er my love fhall fpread a fplendid fcreen, When up the Thames, when up the Thames you fail like Egypt's Queen! "Your pudding is an omen fair Of that bright gift I mean for you; That foon fhall blefs your raptur'd view. For all interpreters in this agree, That ev'ry dream, that ev'ry dream, denotes its contrary. That British loops were feen a-head; In vain the Conful flogg'd the flying band, الحمد In vain he cried, in vain he cried, Scoundrels! I'll make you ftand." Slieve Donard. SHILLELAGH. ΤΟ TO BONAPARTE. [From Lucian.] Te Nos facimus, Fortuna, Deam, Coloque locamus. FORTUNE achieves what never man suspects, 'Tis hers thy wild ambition to control, JUVENAL Though now her golden draughts inflame thy foul! When lightnings ftrike the pine, high-tow'ring, to the ground! THE GROANS OF THE GUILLOTINE. ONE [From the Oracle.] NE night in cold December's reign, "If e'er machine, or new or old, Hath done fuch fervice: yet I'm told, t * Xpuse vaμara; but, if we read xposure, fuppofing the First Conful, owing to his good fortune, to be able to drink out of cups of gold, it will come nearer to his cuftom at St. Cloud, which is, we are told, to wash his hands in a bafin compoted of folid gold. Hereafter we may perhaps have to addrefs him Martial's words to Baffa: Ventris onus mifero riec te pudet excipis auro. 66. O're |