5. The Force of Love; by Mr. Tho. Couljon, of Rookhorpe.

Efteem begat emotions in our heart;

Sweet friend hp few'd, to draw clofe the Tie;
Now love, the warmest wishes doth impart;

I love, and in that love fhall ve and die.

6. The fame by Mr. Ralph Dutton.

Shou'd Providence affign my lot,
Ever to tie the Gordian Knot;

Heaven, grant me this,
Or make me happy, as

7. Addrefs to Myra;
Oh! Myra, let me quickly know,
When you will eafe my prefent woe;
When must be ty'd that myftic noofe,
That death alone can truly loose ;
8. The fame, by Mifs Elizabeth
In peace I lead a single life,
Free from ranc'rous cares and ftrife,
And troubles of the great;

9. The fame,
O when proud Britain's ships of oak
Shall rule the fubject main;
And failors, crown'd with victory's
To Albion fteer again. [pide,

To wed a beau v l'ut inclin'd,

By fuch I mean a beauteous mind.
if it shall be thy will;
a bach'lor ftill.

by Mr. John Rimmer.
That Knot, which iome indeed may

rue,

[true;
But none who're faithful, kind, and
As I, lov'd maio, fhall be to you.
Fox, of Barmly, near Howden.
In a fequefter'd, lonely cot,
Where no proud beau with thoulder-
Disturbs my calm retreat. [Knot,
by Francifca.

Then, to his black-ey'd Sofan, true,
May gallan William prove,

And Hymen round their hearts en-
The Gordian Knot of love.

[twine

10. Anfwered in an Acroftic, addreffed to the Editor, by Mifs A.

W. Maken.

Kind fir, my humble gratitude accept;
Not folely for the favours fhewn to me:
Of all mankind thy merit claims refpect;
Thy works our grandfons fhali admiring fee.
11. The fame, by Mr. Paul Meafor.

Grant me,ve heav'nly pow'rs, a friend,
Such as the lovely fair Mifs Boys ;
Then fhall we never know an end
To all our happiness and joys.

If e'er it prove my happy lot,
At Hymen's hallow'd shrine to stand;
To celebrate the nuptial Knot,
And to embrace my Chloe's hand;
Other Jeparate anfavers to the Prize Enigma, befide those inferted in the Sup
plement, quere given by the following ladies and gentlemen: Academicus, Mrs.
L. Anderson, Lyal Anna, C. B, Newton Bofworth, J. Bayley, John Brook-
fbank, John Browne, Clariffa, Gea. Cook, John Buckley, Tho. Crofbey, Wm.
Davis, James Davidson, Jebn Pennell, John Fildes, Mrs. Furnals, James
Gale, John Gould, John Grabam, John Griffith, J. Hayton, Tho. Hered,
Betty Horn, Rd. Humber, Fr. Jackson, Thox Jaques, C. Lambert, Literarius,
Wm. Marriot, James Mulcefier, J. Nicbuljon, Ortonian, Parthenia, George
Potts, Jobn Read, Da. Robarts, E. Robertfon, Alex. Rowe, Rev. T. S, Sa-
rindas Jabu Savage, Tho. R. Sinart, Rev. F. Shackleton, Tho. Staton, Syl-
vanus, AvE, Elix. Tasker, H. A. Thartemfon, Old Touch, W. Virgo, R.
W. of S, Wm. Wilkinjon, jun., James Woods, &c.

GENERAL ANSWERS to the ENIGMAS.

1. An Elegy, by Mr. Job Ayres of Riccall, on the death of his father, cur ingenicus correfpondent, Mr. James Ayres, who was many years Master of the Free-fchool at Kirby Mifperton, near Malton.

He's now for ever gone! a parent dear,

Whofe lively wit and fenfe would often chear.
He from his Youth efteem'd fair virtue's ways;
At morn and Eve to God would offer praite.,
His converse pleafing, and his manners mild;
"In wit a man, fimplicity a child."
On various fubjects his aspiring mind
Would meditate, and thence true pleasure find.
Whether a Thimble occupy'd his mufe,
Or Bridge or Nail, with their peculiar use,
Each trifling fubject, made by him to please,
Adorn'd with fenfe and dignified with ease.
The Pulpit facred his attention drew,
And fcenes immortal brought unto his view:
Thofe Lips rever'd that utter'd truths divine,
That fcripture, fenfe and reafon did combine.
On Air and Coals he could philofophize,
And fill with wonder all admiring eyes.
The Gordian Knot with eafe he could unfold,
Concerning which fuch wond'rous things are told.-
But now alas! for ever mute his tongue.
Grim death no farther would his life prolong,
But fnatch'd him hence,-contented he withdrew,
To manfions bleffed, and for ever new.
O might thefe lays tranfmit thy memory,
Bleft fhade immortal, to pofterity!

2. To Peace; by the Rev. Mr. Thomas Baker.
Come, come fweet peace, with all thy balmy train,
And blefs Britannia with thy fmiles again.
Long has the dreadful found of war been heard,
And fertile fields with human blood befmear'd!
Long has the widow fhed her tears in vain;
Her hulband murder'd-and her Infant flain!
From morn till Eve the mourns in deep diftrefs;
Thimble nor arched Bridge now yields redress:
In fome lone hut, whofe fhatter'd walls appear
In tott'ring state, with rage Nail'd here and there;
Hungry and cold, in want of each good thing,

.

Ev'n Pulpit orators no comfort bring!

Her Lips difcolour'd with the piercing Air;

O'er dying Coals the weeps in fad despair!

I

2

3

4, S

8,9

10

1

2

3,4

5

6

7, 8

10

Laments that e'er her marriage Knot was ty'd,
Or e'er the chang'd the virgin for the bride! -

B

Not he alone-but thoufand thoufands more,
The dreadful ravages of war deplore.

Hafe then, fweet peace, with all thy healing train,
And crown Britannia with thy fmiles again.

3. By Mifs Betty Boys; addreffed to Mr. J. Brooksbank.

While my vole, my cot, and flowers,
Give my Cradled fancy ease,
Let me,neath my fpreading bower,
Sigh on fubjects fuch as pleafe.
Let me round my Airy mazes

Trip to tend my bleating flock;
Walk each day where fpangled daifies
Peep beneath the flinty rock.

Let me in my winding valley,

Pafs my Evening hours away, Move my Lips where graces fally With their mates the paffing day.

Let me Nail my wooden Bridges,

Court the Pulpit and the nine;
Let me tread once more my ridges,
'Fore a love Knot I entwine.
For fo pleafing are the rofes

Of my ever-glowing vale,
You nor all your Thimbl'd pofies,
Can't my paffion more regale.
Tho' you boaft of earthly pleasure,

Coals nor riches do I mind;
I in my poor cottage-tre fure,
Bleffings more divine can find.

4. The fame, by Mr. Newton Bosworth, of Peterborough.
A Cradle will the fift enigma name;

And to the fecond, Eve will do the fame.
A Thimti in the third is finely wrought;
The Bridge with postry and fenfe is fraught.
The Nail by Mifs J. C. is nicely driven;
The Pulpit fometimes leads a foul to heav'n.,
The Lips are made to move with niceft care;
Mifs-in-her-teens feems to defcribe the Air.
The ninth enigma's Coal; I think I'm right;
And Knot is Hermes prize; fo now good night.

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5. A Jaunt to Newcastle; by the Rev. Mr. Ewbank, of ThorntonSteward.

Diarians then I call'd to fee,

But as their names do not agrée

With verfe, I therefore them omit ;
And think th' enigmas all I've hit.

6. Invitation to an Evening Lecture; by Mr. John Fennell.

Come, lovely charmer, lay your Thimble down,
And walk with me to take the Evening Air;
O'er yonder Bridge, to yonder little town,
Where pious christians meet for praise and prayer.
Where in the Pulpit, with a pious grace,
The holy preacher opes the facred word:
(Draw near ye thoughtless to that hallow'd place
And hear the fuff'rings of a suff'ring Lord.)
His Lips are touch'd with Coals of facred fire,
And powerful truth feems mighty to prevail;
Points to the implements of vengeful ire;

The Knotted fcourge, the fpear and rugged Nail.
Such fcenes as thefe-fuch grief fuftain'd for me,
Demand my ardent, conftant, thankful fong;
E'en from my Cradle, from my infancy,
While everlasting ages roll along.

7. The Good Wife; by Mr. John Fildes, Liverpool.

How bleft is he who has a wife
That foftens all his cares in life;
And heightens ev'ry earthly joy,
With matchlefs fweets that never
clay.

Her with his fecrets he can trust,
And always finds her true and just.
She's prudent, mild, and ftill is known
To make his intereft her own.
The words that from her Lips pro-
ceed,

The fweets of honey far exceed.
To pleafe him, is her conftant care:
She is not proud, tho' e'er fo fair.
Her drefs is near, and fhe ne'er fails
Hertelf to clean, and pare her Nails.
Each Sunday fhe at church appears,
And from the Pulpit fermons hears.
If with an offspring fhe is bleft,
Her Thimble feldom lies at reft.

2,

38 4

7,9

105

She rears her Children 'up with care,
And bids them all of vice beware;
To live in friendship, peace, and love,
That heav'n may their deeds approve.
And when her husband's doom'd to
toil,

She cheers him with a loving fmile;
For him a good Coal fire fhe makes,
His meat the cooks, his bread the
bakes.

Whene'er at Eve they take a walk,
Enraptur'd they together talk,
As o'er the lofty Bridge they pafs,
Or in the fields trip o'er the grafs;
And when at night they go to reft,
He fleeps reclin'd upon her breaft.
Such real comforts to enjoy,

The wedding Knot who would not
tie ?

8. Ode to Winter; by Mrs. M. Furnafs, of Heddon-on-the-Wall,

near Newcastle.

Lo! from the north loud tempefts | I firm Nail up each fecret hole,

The Air how pie:cing keen; [rife,
No more the fields delight my eyes,
For chang'd is ev'ry scene.
My chimney now I heap with Coal,
To shield my Lips from harm

And make my cottage warm.
The Cradle close and fnug I keep,

Left freezing winds annoy
The helpless infant faft fleep,
And wake a mother's iey.

No fragrant flowret cheers my mind, | The ftream faft bound in icy chain,
Nor Eve invites to walk;
But quick the Thimble's ufe I find,
Or fpend an hour in talk.

Now few attend the learn'd divine,
To hear his pious charge
Deliver'd from the Pulpit fine,
And fpoke in words at large.

9. The Happy Cottagers; With joy Damon hail'd the bleft day When Hymen the Knot clofely ty'd, And gave him, all charming as May, A fweet blushing nymph for his bride.

Whofe Lips a bright vermil difclofe;
In whom all the
graces combine ;
If nature excel in the rofe,
Her eyes excel gems of the mine.
No cares now disturb their fond joy,
No Pulle pit-a-pats it for fear,
10. Fantaftic Drefs; by Mifs
That Adam's wife, our mother Eve,
A Thimble us'd, I can't believe;
And yet the fewed all, we read,
That Adam or herself might need.
But were the now to make her entry,
And fee our half-drefs'd waiftiefs gen-
try,

With lounging Air, that never fails,
To fhew how much they vie with
Inails;

Among God's creatures, the wou'd

own,

Such apes deform'd were never known;
And with much firmness fhe'd aver,
Their being they ne'er ow'd to her.

Has ceas'd its murm'ring pace; The Bridge difused is again,

For ice fupplies the place.

Mute the wood, the brake, and spray,
For fteril winter reigns;
The Knotted woodbine fades away,
And barren look the plains.

by Jacobus of Norwich.
No troubles their pleasure annoy,

But health and contentment appear.
At Eve, oft to hear the lov'd tale,

Their Children impatiently burn;
Nor, at door of the cot ever fail,

To welcome their fire's return.
Thus happy, time Paffes away,

And with nimble career runs his
race;

Neither chid for a tedious ftay,
Nor reprov'd for too rapid a pace.
Alethea Wilhelmina Maken.
Such as with hallow'd Lips difplay,
From Pulpit on the fabbath-day,
The way to never-ending blifs,
Which none but wicked men can
mifs.

Nor would fhe e'er that genius fcorn,
That for the public good is born;
Whofe happy art our wants can eafe,
And carry commerce where we please;
Who well the Gordian Knot unties,
And makes our nation's grandeur rife;
Who over Thames a Bridge can lay,
And in our plains canals difplay,
Near Coal, and other valu'd mines,
That owe their worth to his designs;
On men of worth in ev'ry ifle
| She'd caft a kind approving smile.

A few howe'er, a worthy few, With pleasure he'd confefs she knew: 11. An Elegy, by Mr. Tho. Woolfion, on the much-lamented Death of Mifs Charlotte H-n, which happened Sept. 24, 1794, at 16 years of age. (See the Gentleman's Magazine for that month, page 960.)

Anxious the wafting moments to enjoy,

Which fly between the Cradle and the grave,
Each paffing hour ftili brings me fome employ';
Too many, youth alas! to folly gave.

I