Oh! careful guard your royal Master's slumber, Crouds still on crouds impetuous rush along, Thurlow in front, and Chandos in the rear; III. Hail! too, ye beds, where, when his labour closes, Bulses glittering skim the air; Hands unstretch'd would grasp the prize, But no diamond they find there; For awak'd, by amorous pat, Good lack! his gentle CHARLOTTE cries, What would your Majesty be at? The endearing question kindles fierce desire, And all the monarch owns the lover's fire; The pious King fulfils the heav'nly plan, And little annual BRUNSWICKS speak the mighty man! IV. At Pimlico an ancient structure stands, Where Sheffield erst, but Brunswick now commands; Crown'd with a weathercock that points at will, To every part but Constitution-hill Hence Brunswick, peeping at the windows, Looks with delight, And sees unseen, And tells the Queen, What each who passes out or in, does. Hence too, when eas'd of Faction's dread, The cattle graze, At half a crown a head Views the canal's transparent flood, Now fill'd with water, now with mud: Where various seasons, various charms create, Dogs in the summer swim, and boys in winter skait V. Oh! for the pencil of a Claud Lorrain, Hail! Royal Park! what various charms are thine- Thy Mall's smooth walk, and sacred road beside, Hark! the merry fife and drum: Hark! of beaus the busy hum; While in the gloom of evening shade, Gay wood-nymphs ply their wanton trade; The cows, secur'd by halters, stand, Ill-fated cows, when all your milk they've ta'en, VI. Muse, raise thine eyes and quick behold, } The gay Horse-guards, whose clock of mighty fame, Directs the dinner of each careful dame, Where soldiers with red coats equipp❜d, Are sometimes march'd, and sometimes whipp'd. 'Twas heav'n's eternal plan That perfect bliss should ne'er be known to man. Turn and turn about— Even Pitt himself may lose his place, Or thou, Delpini, sovereign of grimace, Thou, too, by some false step, may'st meet disgrace. VII. Ye feather'd choristers, your voices tune, 'Tis now, or near the fourth of June; All nature smiles the day of Brunswick's birth Destroy'd the iron-age, and made an heav'n on earth. Men and beasts his name repeating, Courtiers talking, calves a-bleating; Horses neighing, Asses braying, Sheep, hogs, and geese, with tuneful voices sing, George the Third, the Great, the Good. Or would have done it if he cou'd. Crown'd with laurel let me stand; My grateful voice shall their's as far exceed, NUMBER XIX. LETTER FROM THE RT. HON. LORD VISCOUNT MOUNTMORRES, TO THE EARL OF SALISBURY. MY LORD, BEING informed from undoubted authority, that the learned Pierot, whom your Lordship has thought proper to nominate to the dignity of your Assessor, knows no language but his own, it seemed to me probable he might not understand Irish.-Now as I recollect my last Ode to have proceeded on the orthography of that kingdom, I thought his entire ignorance of the tongue might perhaps be some hindrance to his judgment, upon its merit. On account of this unhappy ignorance, therefore, on the part of the worthy Buffo, of any language but Italian, I have taken the liberty to present your Lordship and him with a second Ode, written in English; which I hope he will find no diffi |