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A troop at certain times compellid to shift, And from their northern mountains turn'd adrift; By tyrant managers a while consign’d To fatten on what forage they can find; With lawless force our liberty invades, (shades: And fain would thrust us from these favourite But we (since prejudice erects her scale, And puffs and petty artifice prevail) To stronger holds with cool discretion run, And leave the conquerors to be undone.

With gratitude, still we'll acknowledge the fa

vours

So kindly indulged to our simple endeavours; To the great and the fair we rest thankfully debtors, And wish we could say, we gave place to our

betters.

SPOKEN BY

MRS. G-, AT HER BENEFIT. UNTAUGHT to tread the Muse's various maze, And quite unpractised in poetic lays, I'll tell my simple tale in plain familiar phrase.

In farmer's yard I've seen a housewife stand, Peace in her looks, and plenty in her hand, Dealing her friendly favours on the ground, Whilst all the neighbouring poultry gather round.

Bold Chanticleer, in shining plumage gay, Struts on before, and leads the well known way; His consort next, she guides his chattering train, Impatient to devour the golden grain; Next stalks the turkey cock above the rest, With rosy gills and elevated chest;

The screaming goose and waddling duck come last, Alike partakers of the free repast.

The breakfastdone, behold each thankless guest (Some birds, like men, make gratitude a jest), With insolence and pamper'd pride elate, Presumes his merit should provide him meat, And thinks the hostess thank'd that he vouchsafed

to eat. A linnet, perching on a neighbouring tree, The well provided banquet chanced to see; She lights and, mingling with the motley crew, Feasted, as most at free expense will do; Then singling from the mercenary throng, Repaid the generous donor with a song.

Could well wrought numbers with my wish agree, The grateful linnet you'd behold in me; But doom'd to silence from my want of skill, Accept, kind patrons ! of a warm good will.

SPOKEN BY

A CHILD OF NINE YEARS OLD.

As the wise ones within have assured me it's

common

For chits of my age to be aping the woman,
To prove that I've talents as well as another,
Good folks!--I ran forward-in spite of my mo-
ther.

[case is; Don't tell me, says I—they shall know how the I'm not to be check'd in my airs and my graces: I was born a coquette-and, by Goles, I'm not

idle; I can ogle already-look peevish, and bridle;

And I'll practise new gestures,each night and each morning,

[warning. 'Gainst I reach to my teens- -so I give ye

fair Though I move ye at present with nothing but

laughter, Look well to your hearts, beaux!—I'll swinge ye hereafter.

[bolder, Have patience, then, pray; and, by practice grown I'll promise to please, if I live to grow older.

STANZAS

SPOKEN AT A PLAY AT THE THEATRE IN SUNDERLAND,

FOR THE BENEFIT OF THE CORSICANS.

Who can behold with an unpitying eye

The glorious few (with patriotic fire) Distress'd-invaded-and resolved to die,

Or keep their independent rights entire? Shackled themselves, the servile Gauls would bind In their ignoble fetters half mankind. The gentle homage that to-night you've paid

To Freedom and her ever sacred laws, The humble offering at her altar made,

Prove that your hearts beat nobly in her cause. All-gracious Freedom, 0, vouchsafe to smile, Through future ages, on this favourite isle! Far may the boughs of Liberty expand,

For ever cultured by the brave and free! For ever blasted be that impious hand

That lops one branch from this illustrious tree! Britons !~'tis yours to make her verdure thrive, And keep the roots of Liberty alive. 0, may her rich, her ripening fruits of gold,

Britannia! bloom perpetually for thee!
May you ne'er want a dragon, as we're told

Defended once the famed Hesperian tree!
A dragon fix'd, for your imperial sake,
With anxious eyes, eternally awake.

EULOGIUM ON CHARITY.

SPOKEN AT ALNWICK, AT A CHARITABLE BENEFIT

PLAY, 1765.

Soft are

To bid the rancour of ill fortune cease,
To tell Anxiety-I give thee peace!
To quell Adversity-or turn her darts,
To stamp Fraternity on generous hearts;
For these high motives—these illustrious ends,
Celestial Charity to-night descends.

the

graces that adorn the maid, Softer than dewdrops to the sunburnt glade! She's gracious as an unpolluted stream, And tender as a fond young lover's dream! Pity and Peace precede her as she flies, And Mercy beams benignant in her eyes! From her high residence, from realms above She comes, sweet harbinger of heavenly love!

Her sister's charms are more than doubly bright, From the kind cause that call’d her here to-night,

Countess of Northumberland.

An artless grace the conscious heart bestows, And on the generous cheek a tincture glows, More lovely than the bloom that paints the ver

nal rose.

The lofty pyramid shall cease to live, Fleeting the praise such monuments can give! But Charity, by tyrant Time revered, Sweet Charity, amidst his ruins spared, Secures her yotaries unblasted fame, And in celestial annals saves their name.

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