I'll give thee something yet unpaid,

Not less sincere than civil;

I'll give theeah! too charming maid, I'll give thee to the devil.2

2 This poem is taken from Ménagiana, vol. iv. 200.

'ÉTRENNE À IRIS.

• POUR témoignage de ma flamme,
Iris, du meilleur de mon âme
Je vous donne à ce nouvel an,
Non pas dentelle, ni ruban,
Non pas essence, ni pommade,
Quelques boîtes de marmalade,
Un mouchoir, des gans, un bouquet,
Non pas fleures, ni chapelet.
Quoi donc? attendez, je vous donne,
O fille plus belle que bonne,
Qui m'avez toujours refusé,

Le point si souvent proposé,

Je vous donne-Ah! le puis-je dire?
Oui: c'est trop souffrir le martyre,
Il est temps de m'émanciper,
Patience va m'échapper.

Fussiez-vous cent fois plus aimable,

Belle Iris, je vous donne

au diable.'

A DESCRIPTION OF AN AUTHOR'S
BEDCHAMBER.1

WHERE the Red Lion, staring o'er the way, Invites each passing stranger that can pay; Where Calvert's butt, and Parson's black cham

pagne,

Regale the drabs and bloods of Drury-lane;
There, in a lonely room, from bailiffs snug,
The Muse found Scroggen stretch'd beneath a rug:
A window, patch'd with paper, lent a ray,
That dimly show'd the state in which he lay;
The sanded floor that grits beneath the tread ;
The humid wall with paltry pictures spread;
The royal game of goose was there in view,
And the twelve rules the royal martyr drew; 2

1 First printed in The Citizen of the World, Letter xxx., and afterwards inserted, with a few variations, in The Deserted Village, 1770.-P. C. [See, post, the extract from a letter to the Rev. Henry Goldsmith.]

2 Viz: "1. Urge no healths; 2. Profane no divine ordinances; 3. Touch no state matters; 4. Reveal no secrets; 5. Pick no quarrels; 6. Make no comparisons; 7. Maintain no ill opinions; 8. Keep no bad company; 9. Encourage no vice; 10. Make no long meals; 11. Repeat no grievances⚫ 12. Lay no wagers."-P. C.

The seasons, fram'd with listing, found a place, And brave prince William show'd his lampblack

face.

3

The morn was cold; he views with keen desire The rusty grate unconscious of a fire:

With beer and milk arrears the frieze was scor'd, And five crack'd teacups dress'd the chimney

board;

A nightcap deck'd his brows instead of bay,
A cap by night, a stocking all the day!

8 William, Duke of Cumberland, the hero of Culloden, d. 1765.-P. C.

EPITAPH ON DR. PARNELL.1

THIS tomb inscrib'd to gentle Parnell's name,
May speak our gratitude, but not his fame.
What heart but feels his sweetly moral lay,
That leads to truth thro' pleasure's flowery way?
Celestial themes confess'd his tuneful aid;
And Heaven, that lent him genius, was repaid.
Needless to him the tribute we bestow,

The transitory breath of fame below:

More lasting rapture from his works shall rise, While converts thank their poet in the skies.

EPITAPH ON EDWARD PURDON.2

HERE lies poor Ned Purdon, from misery freed,
Who long was a bookseller's hack;

He led such a damnable life in this world,
I don't think he'll wish to come back.

1 From The Haunch of Venison, &c. 1776.-P. C.

2 This gentleman was educated at Trinity College, Dublin; but, having wasted his patrimony, he enlisted as a foot soldier. Growing tired of that employment, he obtained his discharge, and became a scribbler in the newspapers. [This epitaph is an imitation of the French, (La Mort du Sieur Etienne,) or of an epigram in Swift's Miscellanies, xiii. 372.-FORSTER.]

STANZAS ON WOMAN.1

WHEN lovely woman stoops to folly,
And finds too late that men betray,
What charm can soothe her melancholy?
What art can wash her guilt away ?

The only art her guilt to cover,

To hide her shame from every eye,
To give repentance to her lover,
And wring his bosom, is—to die.

1 See Vicar of Wakefield, c. xxiv.

10