IN AN EPITAPH WHICH HE DESIRED THE AUTHOR TO WRITE.
UNDER this turf, to mouldering earth consign'd,
Lies he, who once was fickle as the wind.
Alike the scenes of good and ill he knew,
From the chaste temple to the lewdest stew.
Virtue and vice in him alternate reign'd ;-
That fill'd his mind, and this his pocket drain'd;
Till in the contest they so stubborn grew,
Death gave the parting blow, and both withdrew.
FOOD FOR A NEW EDITION OF HIS DICTIONARY.
Let Wilkes and Churchill rage no more,
Though scarce provision, learning's good:
What can these hungries next explore?
Even Samuel Johnson loves our food.
GREAT pedagogue! whose literarian lore,
With syllable on syllable conjoin'd,
To transmutate and varify, hast learn'd
The whole revolving scientific names
That in the alphabetic columns lie,
Far from the knowledge of mortalic shapes;
As we, who never can peroculate
The miracles by thee miraculiz'd,
The Muse, silential long, with mouth apert,
Would give vibration to stagnatic tongue,
And loud encomiate thy puissant name,
Eulogiated from the green decline
Of Thames's banks to Scoticanian shores,
Where Lochlomondian liquids undulize.
To meminate thy name in after times,
The mighty mayor of each regalian town
Shall consignate thy work to parchment fair
In roll burgharian, and their tables all
Shall fumigate with fumigation strong :
Scotland, from perpendicularian hills,
Shall emigrate her fair muttonian store,
Which late had there in pedestration walk'd,
And o'er her airy heights perambuliz❜d.
Oh, blackest execrations on thy head,
Edina shameless! Though he came within
The bounds of your notation; though you knew
His honorific name; you noted not,
But basely suffer'd him to chariotize
Far from your towers with smoke that nubilate,
Nor drank one amicitial swelling cup
To welcome him convivial. Bailies all!
With rage inflated, catenations tear,*
Nor ever after be you vinculiz'd,
Since you that sociability denied
To him whose potent lexiphanian style
Words can prolongate, and inswell his page
With what in others to a line's confin'd.
Welcome, thou verbal potentate and prince!
To hills and valleys, where emerging oats
From earth assuage our pauperty to bay,
And bless thy name, thy dictionarian skill,
Which there definitive will still remain,
* Catenations, vide Chains.-Johnson.
And oft be speculiz'd by taper blue,
While youth studentious turn thy folio page.
Have you, as yet, in per'patetic mood,
Regarded with the texture of the eye
The cave cavernic, where fraternal bard,
Churchill, depicted pauperated swains
With thraldom and bleak want reducted sore;
Where nature, colouriz'd, so coarsely fades,
And puts her russet par'phernalia on?
Have you, as yet, the way explorified
To let lignarian chalice, swell'd with oats,
Thy orifice approach? Have you, as yet,
With skin fresh rubified with scarlet spheres,
Applied brimstonic unction to your hide,
To terrify the salamandrian fire
That from involuntary digits asks
The strong allaceration ?-Or can you swill
The usquebalian flames of whisky blue
In fermentation strong? Have you applied
The kilt aerian to your Anglian thighs,
And with renunciation assigniz'd
Your breeches in Londona to be worn?
Can you, in frigour of Highlandian sky,
On heathy summits take nocturnal rest?
It cannot be :-You may as well desire
An alderman leave plumpuddenian store,
And scratch the tegument from pottage dish,
As bid thy countrymen, and thee, conjoin'd,
Forsake stomachic joys. Then hie you home,
And be a malcontent, that naked hinds,
On lentiles fed, could make your kingdom quake,
And tremulate Old England libertiz'd!
On seeing Scales used in a Mason Lodge.
WHY should the Brethren, met in lodge,
Adopt such awkward measures,
To set their scales and weights to judge
The value of their treasures?
The law laid down from age to age,
How can they well o'ercome it?
For it forbids them to engage
With aught but line and plummet.
EPITAPH ON GENERAL WOLFE.
IN worth exceeding, and in virtue great, Words would want force his actions to relate. Silence, ye bards! eulogiums vain forbear; It is enough to say that Wolfe lies here.
On the numerous Epitaphs for General Wolfe; for the best of which a Premium of L.100 was promised.
THE Muse, a shameless mercenary jade!
Has now assum'd the arch-tongu'd lawyer's trade:
In Wolfe's deserving praises silent she,
Till flatter'd with the prospect of a fee.
Spoken by Mr Wilson, at the Theatre Royal, in the character of an Edinburgh Buck.
YE who oft finish care in Lethe's cup;
Who love to swear, and roar, and keep it up;
List to a brother's voice, whose sole delight
Is-sleep all day, and riot all the night.
Last night, when potent draughts of mellow wine Did sober reason into wit refine;
When lusty Bacchus had contriv'd to drain
The sullen vapours from our shallow brain;
We sallied forth, (for valour's dazzling sun
Up to its bright meridian had run),
And, like renowned Quixotte and his Squire,
Spoils and adventures were our sole desire.
First, we approach'd a seeming sober dame,
Preceded by a lanthorn's pallid flame,
Borne by a liveried puppy's servile hand,
The slave obsequious of her stern command.
Curse on those cits, said I, who dare disgrace
Our streets at midnight with a sober face;
Let never tallow-chandler give them light,
To guide them through the dangers of the night!
The valet's cane we snatch'd; and, dam'me! I
Made the frail lanthorn on the pavement lie.
The Guard, still watchful of the lieges' harm,
With slow-pac'd motion stalk'd at the alarm.
"Guard, seize the rogues! the angry madam
cried ;
And all the guard, with "Seize ta rogue," replied. As, in a war, there's nothing judg'd so right As a concerted and prudential flight,
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