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Charm’d by the magic of his tongue,
Something like the same idea seems to have dictated the following stanzas, which appear to be a loose Imi. tation of the beautiful Dialogue of Horace and Lydia, and for which, though confessedly in a lower style of poetry, and conceived rather in the slang, or Brentford dialect, than in the classical Doric of the foregoing Poem, we have many thanks to return to an ingenious academical Correspondent.
THE NEW COALITION.
HEN erst I coalesced with North,
F. Well, now my favourite preacher's Nickle,
IV. T. Thelwall's my man for state aların ; I love the rebels of Chalk Farm; Rogues that no statutes can subdue, Who'd bring the French, and head them too.
T. Charles, for a shuffler long I've known thee:
We are indebted for the following exquisite Imitation of
one of the most beautiful Odes of Horace, to an unknown hand. All that we can say is, that it came to us in a blank cover, sealed with a Ducal Coronet, and that it appears evidently to be the production of a mind not more classical than convivial.
WJITHER, O Bacchus, in thy train, *
With sudden inspiration ?
The Great and Little Nation?
HOR. LIB. III. CARM. 25.
* Quo me Bacche rapis, tui
Plenum ? quæ in nemora, aut quos agor in specus,
And dream of future glories, When F-x, with salutary sway (Terror the Order of the Day)
Shall reign o'er K-ng and Tories.
My mighty feelings must have way.
As yet unsaid by any,
“ His MAJESTY-THE MANY !"
Plain folks may be surprised, and stare,
At Russia's wooden houses;
With barbarous foot, their spouses.
Dicam insigne, recens, adhuc
+ Non secus in jugis
# et nive candidam Thracen, ac pede barbaro
Lustratam Rhodopen. $ There appears to have been some little mistake in the Translator here. Rhodope is not, as he seems to imagine, the name of a woman, but of a mountain, and not in Russia. Possibly, however, the Translator may have been misled by the inaccuracy of the traveller here alluded to.
What joy, when drunk, at midnight's hour, *
Its various charms exploring ;
Hear trolls and watchmen snoring !
Parent of wine, and gin, and beer, t
Naiads robust and hearty ;
To aid our virtuous party.
Mortals ! no common voice you hear;
Lieutenant of a County !
These Gifts of Royal Bounty.
* Ut mihi devio Ripas, et vacuum nemus Mirari libet!
+ O Naiadum potens Baccharumque valentium
Proceras manibus vertere fraxinos.
Nil mortale loquar. Dulce periculum est,