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At Brookes's once, it so fell out,
The box was push'd with glee about ;
With mirth reciprocal inflam'd,
"Twas said they rather play'd than gam'd;
A general impulse through them ran,
And seem'd t' actuate every man :
But as all human pleasures tend
At some sad moment to an end,
The hour at last approach'd, when lo!
'Twas time for every one to go.
Now for the first time it was seen,
A certain sum unown'd had been;
To no man's spot directly fixt,
But plac'd-ambiguously betwixt:
So doubtfully indeed it lay,
That none with confidence could say
This cash is mine-I'm certain on't
But most declined with Sir, I won't"-
“ I can't in conscience urge a right,
To what I am not certain quite."

-NORTHUMBRIA’s Duke, who wish'd to put
An end to this polite dispute,
Whose generous nature yearn'd to see
The smallest seeds of enmity,
Arose and said—“ this cash is mine

“ For being ask'd to-day to dine,
-- " You see I'm furbelow'd and fine,

“ With full-made sleeves and pendant laces
“ Rely on't, this was just the case,

“ That when by chance my arm I mov'd, “ The money from me then I shov'd; “ This clearly shews how it was shifted." Thus said, the rhino then he lifted; “ Hold, hold, my Lord,” says thoughtless HARE, Who never made his purse his care; A man who thought that money's use Was real comfort to produce, And all the pleasures scorn'd to know Which from its snug en oyments ftow; Such as still charm their gladden'd eyes, Who feel the bliss of avarice. “ Hold, hold, my Lord, how is it known " This cash is certainly your own? “ We each might urge as good a plea, “ Or WYNDHAM, CR AUFURD, SMITH, or me ; “ But we, though less it were to blame, “ Disdain'd so pitiful a claim; • Then here let me be arbitrator “ I vote the money to the waiter." Thus oft will generous folly think : But prudence parts not so with chink. On this occasion so it was, Por gravely thus my Lord Duke says : “ Consider, Sir, how large the sum, " To full cight guineas it will come : “ Shall I, for your quaint verbal play, “ Consign a whole estate away! “ Unjust, ridiculous, absurd, “ I will not do it, on my word; " Yet rather than let fools deride, “ I give my fiat to divide; “ So 'twixt the waiter and myself, * Place equal portions of the pelf:


J enky, I own, divides my heart,
Skill'd in each deep and secret art

To keep my C-MM-Ns down :
His views, his principles are mine;
For these I'd willingly resign

My Kingdom and my Crown.


1. As much as for the public weal,
My anxious bosom burns with zeal

For pious Parson Wyv-LL
For him I'll fret, and fume, and spout,
Go ev'ry length_except go out,

For that's to me the Devil !

K-- What if, our sinking cause to save,

We both our jealous strife should wave,

And act our former farce on:
If I to JENKY were more stern,
Would you, then, generously turn

Your back upon the Parson?

P-TT. Tho' to support his patriot plan

I'm pledg'd as Minister and Man,

This storm I hope to weather ;
And since your Royal will is so,
Reforms and the Reformers too,

May all be damn’d together!

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That PRETTYMAN's so pale, so spare,

No cause for wonder now affords ;
He lives, alas! on empty fare,

Who lives by eating his own words!


In Bayes's burlesque, though so strange it appear'd,
That Prince PrettyMan's self should Prince PRETTY:

Man kill;
Our Prettyman FURTHER to go has not fear'd,

But in DAMNING himself, he extended his skill!


Undaunted Pitt, against the State to plot,

Should int'rest spur, or passion urge ye ;
Dread not the hapless exit of LA MOTTE,

Secure in Benefit of Clergy!


That against my fair fame

You devise so much blame,
Cries the Priest, with a damn me, what care I?

Since the gravest Divine,

Tells a lie worse than mine, When he cries, Nolo Episcopari !"


How wisely Pitt, for different ends,
Can marshal his obedient friends!
When only time he wants, not sense,
MULGRAVE vents copious impotence.
If demi-falsehood must be tried,
By Rose the quibbling task's supply'd
But for the more accomplish'd lie,
Who with meek PR-TT-MAN shall vie?


(PR-TT-MAN loquitur.)
Although, indeed, 'tis truly said,
The various principles of Trade

We are not very glib in;
Yet surely none will this deny,
Few know so well as Port, or I,

To manufacture fibbing.


A horrible fib that a Priest should have told,

Seems to some people's thinking excessively odd, Yet sure there's no maxim more certain or old,

Than “ The nearer the Church still the farther from God.

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