ON THE SAME. I. WHEN Wit and Genius meet their doom In all-devouring flame, And bid us fear the same. II. O'er Murray's loss the muses wept, Yet bless'd the guardian care that kept His sacred head from harm. III. There mem'ry, like the bee, that's fed From Flora's balmy, store, The quintessence of all he road Had treasur'd up before. IV. The lawless herd, with fury blind, Have done him cruel wrong; The flow'rs are gone-but still we find The honey on his tongue. THE LOVE OF THE WORLD REPROVED OR, HYPOCRISY DETECTED." THUS says the prophet of the Turk- There is a part in every swine Much controversy straight arose, These choose the back, the belly those; By some 'tis confidently said He meant not to forbid the head; While others at that doctrine rail, And piously prefer the tail. Thus conscience freed from ev'ry clog, * It may be proper to inform the reader, that this piece has already appeared in print, having found its way, though with some unnecessary additions by an unknown hand, into the Leeds Journal, without the author's privity. You laugh-'tis well-The tale applied, May make you laugh on t'other side, Renounce the world-the preacher cries; We do a multitude replies. While one as innocent regards Some love a concert or a race; With sophistry their sauce they sweeten, ON THE DEATH OF MRS. (NOW LADY) THROCKMORTON'S BULFINCH. YE nymphs! if e'er your eyes were red Where Rhenus strays his vines among, The egg was laid from which he sprung; And, though by nature mute, Or only with a whistle blest, Well taught he all the sounds express'd The honours of his ebon poll Were brighter than the sleekest mole, With which Aurora decks the skies Above, below, in all the house, Well lattic'd-but the grate, alas! But smooth with wands from Ouse's side, Night veil'd the pole; all secm'd secure, A beast forth sallied on the scout, He, ent'ring at the study door And something in the wind Conjectur'd, sniffing round and round, Just then, by adverse fate impress'd, A rat fast clinging to the cage, For aided both by ear and scent, Minute the horrors that ensu’d; His teeth were strong, the cage was wood— O had he made that too his prey; Maria weeps the muses mourn- THE ROSE. The Rose had been wash'd, just wash'd in a show'r Which Mary to Anna convey'd, The plentiful moisture encumber'd the flow'r |