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In vain recorded in historic page,
They court the notice of a future age,
Those twinkling tiny lustres of the land,
Drop one by one from Fame's neglecting hand,
Lethæan gulphs receive them as they fall,
And dark oblivion foon abforbs them all.

So when a child, as playful children use,
Has burnt to tinder a stale last year's news,
The flame extinct, he views the roving fire,
There goes my lady, and there goes the squire,

the parson, oh! illuftrious fpark, And there, scarce less illustrious, goes the clerk.

There goes

R E PORT: Of an adjudged Case not to be found in any of the Books,


Between Nose and Eyes a strange contest arose,

The spectacles set them unhappily wrong;
The point in dispute was, as all the world knows,

To which the said spectacles ought to belong.

So II.

So the tongue was the lawyer and argued the cause

With a great deal of skill, and a wig full of learning, While chief baron Ear fat to balance the laws,

So fam’d for his talent in nicely discerning.


In behalf of the Nose, it will quickly appear,

And your lordship, he said, will undoubtedly find That the Nose has had spectacles always in wear,

Which amounts to poffeffion time out of mind.


Then holding the spectacles up to the court-

Your lordship obferves they are made with a straddle, As wide as the ridge of the Nofe is,'in short,

Design’d to fit close to it, just like a saddle.


Again, would your lordship a moment, fuppose

('Tis a case that has happen'd and may be again) That the visage or countenance had not a Nose,

Pray who wou'd or who cou'd wear spectacles then ?


On the whole it appears, and my argument shows

With a reasoning the court will never condemn, That the spectacles plainly were made for the Nose,

And the Nose was as plainly intended for them.


Then shifting his side as a lawyer knows how,

He pleaded again in behalf of the Eyes, But what were his arguments few people know,

For the court did not think they were equally wise.


So his lordship decreed, with a grave folemn tone,

DeciGive and clear without one if or buta That whenever the Nose put his spectacles on

By day-light or candle-light-Eyes should be shut.





On the Burning of LORD MANSFIELD's Library, toge

ther with his MSS. by the Mob, in the Month of June, 1780.

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And MURRAY fighs o'er Pope and Swift,

And many a treasure more,
The well-judg’d purchase and the gift

That grac'd his letter'd store.


Their pages mangled, burnt and torn,

The loss was his alone,
But ages yet to come shall mourn

The burning of his own.

On Ο Ν Τ Η Ε S Α Μ Ε.

WHEN wit and genius meet their doom

In all devouring flame,
They tell us of the fate of Rome,

And bid us fear the same.

O’er MURRAY's loss the muses wept,

They felt the rude alarm,
Yet bless’d the guardian care that kept

His facred head from harm.

There mem'ry like the bee that's fed

From Flora's balmy store,
The quintessence of all he read

Had treasur’d up before.


The lawless herd with fury blind

Have done him cruel wrong,
The flow’rs are gone—but fill we find

The honey on his tongue.

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