Of magic shapes and visions airy
Beckon d from the land of Fairy:
'Mid the melancholy void
Not a pensive charm enjoy'd!
No poetic being here

Strikes with airy sounds mine ear
No converse here to fancy cold
With many a fleeting form I hold.
Here all inelegant and rude
Thy presence is, sweet Solitude.

THOMAS WARTON THE YOUNGER.

WARWICKSHIRE

(SEPTEMBER 7, 1769)

YE Warwickshire lads, and ye lasses,
See what at our Jubilee passes,

Come revel away, rejoice and be glad,
For the lad of all lads, was a Warwickshire lad,
Warwickshire lad,

All be glad,

For the lad of all lads, was a Warwickshire lad.

Be proud of the charms of your county,
Where Nature has lavish'd her bounty,

Where much she has giv'n, and some to be spar'd,
For the bard of all bards, was a Warwickshire bard,
Warwickshire bard,

Never pair'd,

For the bard of all bards, was a Warwickshire bard.

Each shire has its different pleasures,

Each shire has its different treasures ;

But to rare Warwickshire all must submit,
For the wit of all wits, was a Warwickshire wit,
Warwickshire wit,

How he writ!

For the wit of all wits, was a Warwickshire wit.

Old Ben, Thomas Otway, John Dryden,
And half a score more we take pride in,

Of famous Will Congreve, we boast too the skill,
But the Will of all Wills, was a Warwickshire Will,
Warwickshire Will,

Matchless still,

For the Will of all Wills, was a Warwickshire Will.

Our Shakespeare compar'd is to no man,

Nor Frenchman, nor Grecian, nor Roman,

Their swans are all geese, to the Avon's sweet swan,
And the man of all men, was a Warwickshire man,
Warwickshire man,

Avon's swan,

And the man of all men, was a Warwickshire man.

As ven'son is very inviting,

To steal it our bard took delight in,

To make his friends merry he never was lag,
And the wag of all wags, was a Warwickshire wag,
Warwickshire wag,

Ever brag,

For the wag of all wags, was a Warwickshire wag.

There never was seen such a creature,

Of all she was worth, he robb'd Nature!

He took all her smiles, and he took all her grief,
And the thief of all thieves, was a Warwickshire thief,
Warwickshire thief,
He's the chief,

For the thief of all thieves, was a Warwickshire thief.

DAVID GARRICK.

'ARGLWYDD ARWAIN TRWY'R ANIALWCH'
GUIDE me, O thou great Jehovah,
Pilgrim thro' this barren land;
I am weak, but thou art mighty,
Hold me with thy pow'rful hand:
Bread of heav'n, bread of heav'n,
Feed me till I want no more.

Open now the chrystal fountain,
Whence the healing stream doth flow;
Let the fire and cloudy pillar
Lead me all my journey thro':
Strong delivr❜er, strong delivr'er,
Be thou still my strength and shield.

When I tread the verge of Jordan,
Bid my anxious fears subside;
Death of deaths, and hell's destruction,
Land me safe on Canaan's side:
Songs of praises, songs of praises
I will ever give to thee.

Musing on my habitation,
Musing on my heav'nly home,
Fills my soul with holy longing:
Come, my Jesus, quickly come;
Vanity is all I see ;

Lord I long to be with thee!

WILLIAM WILLIAMS.

PRAYER FOR INDIFFERENCE

OFT I've implor'd the gods in vain,
And pray'd till I've been weary:
For once I'll seek my wish to gain
Of Oberon the fairy.

Sweet airy Being, wanton Spright,
Who liv'st in woods unseen;
And oft by Cynthia's silver light
Trip'st gaily o'er the green;

If e'er thy pitying heart was mov'd
As ancient stories tell ;

And for th' Athenian maid who lov'd,
Thou sought'st a wondrous spell,

O! deign once more t' exert thy power!
Haply some herb or tree,
Sovereign as juice from western flower,
Conceals a balm for me.

I ask no kind return in love,
No tempting charm to please;
Far from the heart such gifts remove,
That sighs for peace and ease!

Nor ease, nor peace, that heart can know,
That, like the needle true,

Turns at the touch of joy or woe;
But, turning, trembles too.

Far as distress the soul can wound, 'Tis pain in each degree:

'Tis bliss but to a certain bound-
Beyond-is agony.

Then take this treacherous sense of mine,
Which dooms me still to smart ;
Which pleasure can to pain refine;
To pain new pangs impart.

O haste to shed the sovereign balm,
My shatter'd nerves new-string;
And for my guest, serenely calm,
The nymph Indifference bring!

And what of life remains for me,
I'll pass in sober ease;
Half-pleas'd, contented will I be,
Content-but half to please.

FRANCES GREVILLE.

RETALIATION

A POEM

OF old, when Scarron his companions invited,
Each guest brought his dish, and the feast was united;
If our landlord supplies us with beef, and with fish,
Let each guest bring himself, and he brings the best
dish:

Our Dean shall be venison, just fresh from the plains ;
Our Burke' shall be tongue, with the garnish of brains ;
Our Will shall be wild fowl, of excellent flavour,
And Dick with his pepper, shall heighten their savour:
Our Cumberland's sweetbread its place shall obtain,
And Douglas's pudding substantial and plain :
Our Garrick's a sallad, for in him we see
Oil, vinegar, sugar, and saltness agree:

To make out the dinner full certain I am,

That Ridge is anchovy, and Reynolds 10 is lamb:

1 The Master of the St. James's Coffee-house, where the Doctor, and the Friends he has characterized in this Poem, held an occasional Club.

Dr. Bernard, Dean of Derry in Ireland, author of many ingenious pieces.

Edmund Burke, Member for Wendover, and one of the greatest orators in this kingdom.

Mr. William Burke, late secretary to General Conway, and member for Bedwin.

• Mr. Richard Burke, collector of Granada, no less remarkable in the walks of wit and humour than his brother Edmund Burke is justly distinguished in all branches of useful and polite literature.

[Richard Cumberland], author of the West Indian, Fashionable Lover, the Brothers, and other dramatic pieces.

' Dr. Douglas, Canon of Windsor, an ingenious Scotch gentleman, who has no less distinguished himself as a Citizen of the World, than a sound Critic, in detecting several literary mistakes (or rather forgeries) of his countrymen: particularly Lauder on Milton, and Bower's History of the Popes.

• David Garrick, Esq., joint Patentee and acting Manager of the Theatre Royal, Drury lane. For the other parts of his character, vide the Poem.

• Counsellor John Ridge, a gentleman belonging to the Irish bar, the relish of whose agreeable and pointed conversation is admitted, by his acquaintance, to be very properly compared to the above sauce.

10 Sir Joshua Reynolds, President of the Royal Academy.