Then you'll be thought to understand
The drama's laws.

The gaming table, Britain's bane,
The attention of our beaux does claim;
Even hoary age,-for shame! for shame!-
You'll meet with there;

With wine and losses quite insane,
In black despair.

And even the female sex, I see,
Is not from the contagion free;
How shocking 'tis to modesty,
To see the fair,

Associate with such company
As meeteth there!

See, to the brothel straight repair
The sharper and the hopeful heir;
Even men of character more fair,
Duly perform

Their visits to the Cyprian fair,
Nor think it harm.

Here they do finish the debauch-
Bacchus and Venus, joyous match,
Do spread their blandishments, to catch
Their votaries;

Perhaps a purse, perhaps a watch,
Must pay the fees.

Now, fell remorse of them takes hold-
An aching head, and loss of gold,
Makes penitents of the most bold;

But, deep in sin,

They, like the sow to the mire, we're told, Return again.

Next, on the constitution seize,

A loathsome, virulent disease,

Which power of med'cine cannot ease,

So gross and foul;

Both night and day it does them tease,
Body and soul.

To church, too, punctually repair,

Upon a day, just once a-year,

And join yourself in public prayer;
Strictly enjoin'd

By those that sway the rod of

Wisdom profound.

power,

And always make a good report

Of every thing that's done at court;
The Ministry you must support,

With speeches warm;

The patriot, next, straight make your sport, Laugh at reform.

If still in verse you wish to shine,
Freely let loose the moral rein,

And swear all pleasures are divine,

To those stretch'd on a bed of death,
Waiting relief.

But, if in Virtue's course you steer,
Of rocks and quicksands you'll keep clear;
And when the haven you draw near,
Tho' rough the storm,

Faith's anchor quiets every fear,

Its hold is firm.

WRITTEN ON THE 25TH OCTOBER, 1809, BEING HIS LATE MAJESTY'S JUBILEE DAY.

SOUND, sound! the silver trumpets sound;
Their clarion diffuse around;

Let plains, and woods, and hills, and sky,
Resound with GEORGE's Jubilee!

Thy glorious, long-protracted reign,

Full of eventful deeds has been ;

No tyranny, that baneful thing, E'er stain'd the honour of the King.

Under thy mild, paternal sway,
These lands do happiness enjoy,
Far, far above all other lands,
That suffer under tyrants' hands.

The good example thou dost show, Like the pure streamlet, will bestow Its salutary influence clear,

On all that do approach it near.

Religion's dictates man obeys;
Oft from the idle love of praise;
But thee that principle dost guide,
Which lasting pleasure must provide.

Bright science thou dost patronize,
And art exciting high emprise;
Still prompting sages to explore
Deep subjects unexplored before.