WHEN wit and genius meet their doom. In all devouring flame, They tell us of the fate of Rome, And bid us fear the fame. 2. O'er MURRAY's lofs the mufes wept, They felt the rude alarm, Yet blefs'd the guardian care that kept His facred head from harm. 3. There mem'ry, like the bee that's fed From Flora's balmy store, The quinteffence of all he read Had treafur'd up before. 4. The lawless herd with fury blind Have done him cruel wrong, The flow'rs are gone-but ftill we find The honey on his tongue. THE LOVE OF THE WORLD REPROVED; OR, HYPOCRISY DETECTED.* THUS fays the prophet of the Turk, Good muffulman abstain from pork; There is a part in ev'ry fwine, No friend or follower of mine May tafte, whate'er his inclination, And fet their wit at work to find What joint the prophet had in mind. * It may be proper to inform the reader that this piece has already appeared in print, having found its way, though with fome unneceffary additions by an unknown hand, into the Leeds Journal, without the author's privity. Much Much controversy strait arofe, These chufe the back, the belly thofe ; By fome 'tis confidently faid He meant not to forbid the head, While others at that doctrine rail, And piously prefer the tail. Thus, confcience freed from ev'ry clog, You laugh-'tis well-the tale apply'd Renounce the world, the preacher cries We do a multitude replies. While one as innocent regards A fnug and friendly game at cards; And one, whatever you may fay, Can fee no evil in a play; Some love a concert or a race, And others, fhooting and the chase. Revil'd and lov'd, renounc'd and follow'd, Thus bit by bit the world is swallow'd; Each thinks his neighbour makes too free, With fophiftry their fauce they fweeten, 'Till quite from tail to fnout 'tis eaten. THE LILY AND THE ROSE. 1. THE nymph must lose her female friend If more admir'd than fhe But where will fierce contention end If flowr's can disagree? 2. Within the garden's peaceful fcene Appear'd two lovely foes, Afpiring to the rank of The lily and the rofe. queen, The 3. The rose foon redden'd into rage, Appeal'd to many a poet's page 4. The lily's height bespoke command, A fair imperial flow'r, She feem'd defign'd for Flora's hand, 5. This civil bick'ring and debate The goddess chanc'd to hear, And flew to fave, e'er yet too late, The pride of the parterre. 6. Your's is, the said, the nobler hue, And your's the statelier mien, And 'till a third surpasses you, Let each be deem'd a queen. Y 2 Thus |