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An Antient Historical Family Ballad, on what once befel
a memorable four-footed Matror at H Hall, in the famous County of Bucks.
BY THE REV. MOSES BROWNE*,
Puss, the prime princess of her pack,
Of all the purring kind;
May royal beauty find!
She left her Guardian's lap;
Where stood a baited trap.
Up flew the treacherous spring ;
Huzza ! boys, save the King!
* Formerly Minister of Olney in Buckinghamshire, and knows by some poetical productions,
Humbugg'd, and vex’d, you well may think,
In patience as became her;
A cat less wise though tamer.
The more her shame to smother;
I'll mark you, son and mother!
And thus in mercy cries out-
Zooks! they'd have claw'd thy eyes out.
EPITAPH ON COLBERT,
MINISTER OF LOUIS XIV.
From the French.
Here lies the father of taxation :
May Heaven, his faults forgiving,
Grant him repose ; which he, while living, Would never grant the nation.
R. A. D.
Originally written for Inscription in a Country Residence
in the Vicinity of Dublin.
BY WILLIAM WEBB, ESQ.
O Rus, tandem ego te aspicio, tandemque licebit
The original intention of the writer was confined to a simple trans,
lation of the quotation fron Horace which is given as the motto, for the purpose of inscription in an octagon building in a favourite recess of his grounds. Failing to satisfy himself in this design, his ideas extended to a short paraphrase; but the result of his change of plan will be found in the present pube lication. The circumstance is mentioned as accounting for the form of address which the composition assumes, as well as some other peculiarities of mariner, which it has not been deemed essential to remove.
Bidst thou me welcome still, glad seat of ease !
What tho' not thine the boast of wide domain, 5 Nor gorgeous wonder stablish here her reign; Tho' not for thee Creation's proud array; For thee nor Ocean waves expand their sway, Nor o'er thy head in mad disorder wild And savage waste the eternal granite pild;
10 For thee no sweep of frowning forest near, No devious wizard haunt of gloom and fear; Not thine the giddy heights, the headlong steeps, Nor chasms that shuddering yawn to midnight deeps; Fantastic scenes ! with living force imprest
15 Of mystic influence o'er the human breast! Nor these high honors thine! oh barely free From City concourse and from rabble glee! Free from the clouded dust, the clattering noise Of City parties and their Sunday joys;
20 The scenes where ceaseless throng, at wealth's loud call, The brick-red villa and the sad stone wall: Scap'd too from City taste! whose meddling hand With cumbrous frippery deforms the land, Marshals its mimic gauds in dull parade,
25 Its vamp'd up brick-pool and spruce starv'd cascade; Bids Chinese bridge or Chinese temple flare, Or old-new Gothic nick-nack rise in air; Nor knows the country its primæval green, While envious masonry usurps the scene!
30 Yet peace to such! nor heeds thy just disduin These labour'd whimsies of the sons of gain. Not here intrudes their sad tumultuous care, Nor frivolous joys thy bosom'd quiet share. For has not nature's self here rais'd her shrine ? 35 Breathes not around thee all her calm benign? Her
peace serenest raptures trace, And thrilling airs her living presence grace.
Wide spread, behold! for thee her various stores
Qr in fond change, to gaze with searching eyes
* Three-rock Mountain