The toad a jewel in his head containsProve we the rich production of my brains! Nor will I court, with humble plea,

Th' Aonian Maids to inspire my wit: One mortal girl is worth the Nine to me;The prudes of Pindus I resign to Pitt. His be the classic art, which I despise ;THURLOW on Nature, and himself relies.

III.

'Tis mine to keep the conscience of the King;

To me, each secret of his heart is shown:
Who then, like me, shall hope to sing
Virtues, to all but me, unknown?
Say who, like me, shall win belief
To tales of his paternal grief,
When civil rage with slaughter dy'd
The plains beyond th' Atlantic tide?
Who can, like me, his joy attest,
Though little joy his looks confest,
When Peace, at Conway's call restor❜d,
Bade kindred nations sheathe the sword?
How pleas'd he gave his people's wishes way,
And turn'd out North, when North refus'd to stay !
How in their sorrows sharing too, unseen,

For Rockingham he mourn'd, at Windsor with the Queen!

IV.

His bounty, too, be mine to praise,

Myself th' example of my lays,

A Teller in reversion I;

And unimpair'd I vindicate my place,

The chosen subject of peculiar grace,

Hallow'd from hands of Burke's economy:

For so his royal word my Sovereign gave ;
And sacred here I found that word alone,
When not his Grandsire's Patent, and his own,

To Cardiff, and to Sondes, their posts could save.
Nor should this chastity be here unsung,

That chastity, above his glory dear;

+ But Hervey frowning, pulls my ear,

Such praise, she swears, were satire from my tongue.

V.

Fir'd at her voice, I grow prophane,

A louder yet, and yet a louder strain!
To THURLOW's lyre more daring notes belong.
Now tremble every rebel soul!

While on the foes of George I roll
The deep-ton'd execrations of my song.
In vain my brother's piety, more meek,
Would preach my kindling fury to repose;

Like Balaam's ass, were he inspir'd to speak,

'Twere vain! resolved I go to curse my Prince's foes.

* I cannot here with-hold my particular acknowledgments to my virtuous young friend, Mr. Pitt, for the noble manner in which he contended, on the subject of my reversion, that the most religious observance must be paid to the Royal promise. As I am personally the more obliged to him, as in the case of the Auditors of the Imprest the other day, he did not think it necessary to shew any regard whatever to a Royal Patent.

I originally wrote this line,

But Hervey frowning, as she hears, &c.

It was altered as it now stands, by my d--mn'd Bishop of a brother, for the sake of an allusion to Virgil.

-Cynthius aurem

Velit, et admonuit.

VI.

"Begin! Begin!" fierce Hervey cries, See the Whigs, how they rise!

What petitions present!

How teize and torment!

D-mn their bloods, d-inn their hearts, d-mn their

Behold yon sober band

Each his notes in his hand;

The witnesses they, whom I brow-beat in vain;

Unconfus'd they remain.

Oh! d-mn their bloods again;

Give the curses due

To the factious crew!

eyes.

Lo! Wedgewood too waves his * Pitt-pots on high!
Lo! he points, where the bottom's yet dry,
The visage immaculate bear;

Be Wedgewood d-mn'd, and double d-mn'd his ware.
D-mn Fox, and d-mn North;

D-mn Portland's mild worth;

D-mn Devon the good,

Double d-mn all his name;

D-mn Fitzwilliam's blood,

Heir of Rockingham's fame;

D-mn Sheridan's wit,

The terror of Pitt;

D-mn Loughb'rough, my plague-wou'd his bagpipe

were split!

I am told, that a scoundrel of a Potter, one Mr. Wedgewood, is making 10,000 vile utensils, with a figure of Mr. Pitt in the bottom; round the head is to be a motto,

We will spit,

On Mr. Pitt,

And other such d-mn'd ryhmes, suited to the uses of the different vessels.

1

D-mn Derby's long scroll,

Fill'd with names to the brims:

D-mn his limbs, d-mn his soul,
D-mn his soul, d-mn his limbs
With Stormont's curs'd din,

Hark! Carlisle chimes in ;

D-mn them; d-mn all their partners of their sin;
D-mn them, beyond what mortal tongue can tell;
Confound, sink, plunge them all to deepest, blackest
Hell!

Y

NUMBER XVII.

IRREGULAR ODE FOR MUSIC,

By the Rev. DR. PRETTYMAN.

The Notes (except those wherein Latin is concerned) by Joun ROBINSON, Esq.

RECITATIVE, by Double Voices.

*HAIL to the LYAR! whose all-persuasive strain, Wak'd by the master-touch of art, And prompted by th' inventive brain,

+ Winds its sly way into the easy heart.

Hail to the LYAR!] It was suggested to me, that my friend the Doctor had here followed the example of Voltaire, in deviating from common orthography.Lyar, instead of Lyre, he conceives to be a reading of peculiar elegance in the present instance, as it puts the reader in suspence between an inanimate and a living instrument. However, for my own part, I am rather of opinion, that this seeming mis-spelling arose from the Doctor's following the same well-known circumspection which he exercised in the case of Mr. Wedge. wood, and declining to give his Ode under his hand; preferring to repeat it to Mr. Delpini's Amanuensis, who very probably may have committed that, and similar errors in orthography.

Winds its sly way, &c.] A line taken in great part from Milton. The whole passage (which it may not be unpleasing to recall to the recollection of the reader) has been closely imitated by my friend Prettyman, in a forme work.

❝I, under fair pretence of friendly ends,

"And well-placed words of glozing courtesy,

"Baited with reasons not unplausible,

"Wind me into the easy-hearted man,

"And hug him into snares."

COMUS.