No. XIV. Feb. 12. It has been our invariable custom to suppress such of our Correspondents' favours as conveyed any Compliments to ourselves; and we have deviated from it in the present instance, not so much out of respect to the uncommon excellence of the Poem before us, as because it agrees so intimately with the general design of our Paper, to expose the deformity of the French Revolution, to counteract the detestable arts of those who are seeking to introduce it here, and above all, to invigorate the exertions of our Countrymen against every foe, foreign and domestic, by shewing them the immense and inexhaustible resources they yet possess in British Courage and British Virtue! TO THE AUTHOR OF THE ANTI-JACOBIN. FoE to thy country's foes! 'tis THINE to claim Fair was her form, and FREEDOM's honour'd name Conceal'd the horrors of her secret shame: She claim'd some kindred with that guardian pow'r, AMBITION's mantle reeking fresh with blood; And DISCORD sour the blood of human kind; Foil'd by our ARMS, where'er in arms we met, While many a chief, to glory not unknown, Track'd through the windings of conspiracy, "Tis THINE a subtler mischief to pursue, And drag a deeper, darker, plot to view; Whate'er its form, still ready to engage, Detect its malice, or resist its rage; Whether it whispers low, or raves aloud, In sneers profane, or blasphemies avow'd: Insults its King, reviles its Country's cause, And 'scaped from justice, braves the lenient laws:Whate'er the hand in desperate faction bold, By native hate inspir'd, or foreign gold: * Conjuravere Cives nobilissimi Patriam incendere Gallorum gentem infestissimam nomini Romano in bellum arcessunt-Dux Hostium cum exercitu supra caput est-ORATCATON. ap. SALLUST. + Tum Catilina polliceri tabulas novas, proscriptionem locupletium, Magistratus, Sacerdotia, rapinas, alia omnia quæ bellum atque lubido Victorum fert.-SALLUST. Traitors absolv'd, and libellers releas'd, Each claims thy care; nor think the labour vain, 'Tis THINE, with truth's fair shield to ward the blow, And turn the weapon back upon the foe: To trace the skulking fraud, the candid cheat, To rouse the cold, re-animate the brave, Erect that standard ALFRED first unfurl'd, That standard, which the Patriot Barons bore, Yes! the BRIGht sun of BritaIN yet shall shine, The clouds are earthborn, but his fire divine; That temperate splendour, and that genial heat, LINES WRITTEN UNDER THE BUST OF CHARLES FOX, AT THE CROWN AND ANCHOR. I'll not sell Uncle Noll, Charles Surface cries:- Morning Post, Feb. 6. To make our Readers some amends for this miserable doggrel, we will present them, in our turn, with some lines written under a bust, NOT at the Crown and Anchor, by an English Traveller. We believe they are more just; we are certain they are more poetical. |