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the ladies curtfied, and fhrunk away, for there was no fuch thing as fpeaking, but Floretta would find something to criticife. If a girl was more fprightly than her aunt, fhe was threatened that in a little time fhe would be like Floretta. Vifits were very diligently paid when Floretta was known not to be at home; and no mother trusted her daughter to herself without a caution, if the should meet Floretta, to leave the company as foon as fhe could.

With all this Floretta made sport at firft, but in time grew weary of general hoftility. She would have been content with a few friends, but no friendship was durable; it was the fashion to defert her, and with the fashion what fidelity will contend? She could have eafily amufed herself in folitude, but that The thought it mean to quit the field to treachery and folly.

Perfecution at length tired her con ftancy, and the implored Lilinet to rid her of her wit: Lilinet complied, and walked up the mountain, but was often forced to stop and wait for her fol lower. When they came to the flinty fountain, Floretta filled a fmall cup and flowly brought it to her lips, but the water was infupportably bitter. She just tafted it, and dashed it to the ground, diluted the bitterness at the fountain of alabaster, and refolved to keep her wit with all its confequences.

Being now a wit for life, fhe furveyed the various conditions of mankind with fuch fuperiority of fentiment, that the found few diftinctions to be envied or defired, and therefore did not very foon make another visit to the fountain. At length being alarmed by fickness, the refolved to drink length of life from the golden cup. She returned elated

and fecure, for though the longe vity was indeterminate, fhe confidered death as far distant, and therefore fuffered it not to intrude upon her pleafures.

But length of life included not perpetual health. She felt herself continually decaying, and faw the world fading about her. The delights of her early days would delight no longer, and however widely the extended her view, no new pleasure could be found: her friends, her enemies, her admirers, her rivals, dropped one by one into the grave, and with those who fucceeded them fhe had neither community of joys nor ftrife of competition.

By this time he began to doubt whether old age were not dangerous to virtue; whether pain would not produce peevifhnefs, and peevishnefs impair benevolence. She thought that the fpectacle of life might be too long continued, and the vices which were often feen might raise less abhorrence; that refolution might be fapped by time, and let that virtue fink, which in its firmeft ftate it had not without difficulty fupported; and that it was vain to delay the hour which must come at laft, and might come at a time of lefs preparation and greater imbecillity.

These thoughts led her to Lilinet, whom the accompanied to the flinty fountain; where, after a short combat with herself, she drank the bitter water. They walked back to the favourite bush pensive and filent: And now, faid fhe, accept my thanks for the laft benefit that Floretta can receive. Lady Lilinet dropped a tear, impreffed upon her lips the final kifs, and refigned her, as the refigned herself, to the course of Nature.

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Poetry.

Their locks belong unto the Grand Mo

narque,

Who fwallows privileges like a shark. Be pleas'd to pardon what we now ad

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205

America hath try'd to pull your nofe French, Dutch, and Spaniards, tryd to bang your back:

'Twould be a serious matter, we can

tell ye,

Were we to buccaneer it on your belly.

You fee the spirit of your Cooks then, Sire

Determin'd nobly to fupport their locks:

And fhould your guards be order❜d out to fire,

Their guns may be oppos'd by spits and crocks:

Knives, forks, and fpoons, may fly, with plates a ftore,

And all the thunder of the kitchen roar,

Nat. Gardner, Yeoman of the mouth, declares

He'll join the ftandard of your injur'd Cookson

Each fcullion, turnbroche, for redress prepares,

Your women too-imprimis, Mrs Dyer,
And puts on very formidable looks:
whofe eggs are good as ever felt a fire:
Next Sweeper-general Bickley, Mrs.
Mary,

With that fam❜d bell-ringer call'd
Mrs Loman

Ann Spencer, guardian of the Necef fary

That is to fay, the neceffary woman All these, an't please you, Sir, fo fierce,*

determine

To join us in the cause of hair and yer

mine.

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handles

Suppofe he daring locks up all the lights

How could your Majesty contrive for candles?

You'd be (excufe the freedom of remark)

Like fome Administrations-in the dark. We dare affure you that our grief is great

And oft indeed our feelings it enrages, To fee your facred Majefty befet

By fuch a graceless gang of idle pages And, with fubmiffion to your judgment, Sire,

We think ald Madam SWELLENBERG a lyar.

Suppofe, GREAT SIR, that by your cruel fiat,

The barbers fhould attack our humble head,

And that we fhould not chufe to breed a riot,

Because we might not wish to lose our bread;

Say, would the triumph o'er each harm

lefs Cook

Make GEORGE THE THIRD like ALEXANDER look?·

Dread Sir, reflect on JOHNNY WILKES'S fate,

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Supported chiefly by a paultry rabbleWILKES bade defiance to your frowns and state,

And got the better in that famous fquabble:

Poor was the victory you wish'd to win, That fet the mouth of EUROPE on the

grim

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[graphic]

Once on a time, a Monarch, tir'd with Why fhould it not be true? The greatest

hooping,

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May afk a foolish queftion now and then

This is the language of all ages: Folly lays many a trap-we can't ef cape it:

Nemo (fays fome one) omnibus horis fapit:

Then why not Kings-like me and other fages?

A Story. By the fame. VID, fweet ftory-teller of old

Ο Unlucks,

In tempting row the naked dumplings for his rhymes,

lay,

When, lo! the Monarch, in his ufual

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Addrefs'd his book before he bade it walk

Therefore my Worship, and my Ode, In imitation of fuch claffic mode, -Muft, like two Indian nations, have a Talk.

Dear Ode! whofe verfe the true fublime affords,

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Go, vifit Kings, Queens, Parafites, and Lords;

"And if thy modeft beauties they adore, "Inform them, they fhall speedily

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have more." But poffibly a mighty King may fay-"Ode! Ode!-What? What? I hate your rhyme haranguing; "I'd rather hear a jackafs bray : "I never knew a poet worth the hanging.

"I hate, abhor them-but I'll clip their wings;

"I'll teach the faucy knaves to laugh at Kings:

B. b

66 Yes,

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"Vowing to drive Old Ocean to Old
Nick,

"Should he ev'n wet the latchet of
his fhoe."

The Sea retir'dthe Monarch fierce
rufh'd on,

And look'd as if he'd drive him from
the land-

But SEA not caring to be put upon,

Made for a moment a bold stand:

Not only make a ftand did Mr OCEAN,

But to his honeft waves he made a mó-
tion,

And bid them give the King a hearty
trimming:

The orders feem'd a deal the waves to

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All hands aloft, with one tremendous

roar,

Soon did they make him with himself on fhore;

His head and ears moft handfomely they dous'd

Juft like a porpus, with one general shout,

The waves so tumbled the poor King about

No Anabaptift e'er was half fo fous'd. At length to land he crawl'd, a halfdrown'd thing,

Indeed more like a crab than like a
King,

And found. his Courtiers making rue-
ful faces:

But what faid Canute to the Lords and
Gentry,

Who hail'd him from the water, on his
entry,

All trembling for their lives or places?

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