« ZurückWeiter »
· And make each puny rogue a prey,
While they, the greater, flink away.
O England, how I mourn thy faie !
To-day*, or e'er the fun goes down, Will die the Cenfor, Mr. Town!
September 30th, 1756, when Mr. Town, author of the Connoisseur, a periodical Effay (fance published in four volumes, printed for R. Baldwin, London), took leave of his readers, with an humorons account of himself.
lle dies, whoe'er takes pains to con him,
his name these verses save, Be these inscrib'd upon his grave !
“ Know, Reader, that on Thursday died, " The Connoisseur, a Suicide! 66 Yet think not that his soul is fled, * Nor rank him 'mongst the vulgar dead, " Howe'er defun&t you fet him down, " He's only going out of Town.”
Nor is it wealth's decree ;
Tho' not to thee or me.
Tho' he'd give millions fur’e :
Qr waits on him to court.
It is not in a coach aud fix,
It is not in a garter ;
But 'tis in Hodge the carter.
Veni Creator Spiritus, parapkrafıd.
VREATOR Spirit, by whose aid
The world's foundations first were laid,
O source of uncreated light,
Plenteous of grace, descend from high,
Refine and purge your earthly parts ;
Our frailties help, our vice controul,
Chase from our minds th' infernal foe,
Make us eternal truths receive,
Immortal honour, endless fame,
Discord's House HA
ARD by the gates of hell her dwelling is,
There whereas all plagues and harmes abound; Which punish wicked men, that walk amiss : It is a darksome delve farre under ground, With thornes and barren brakes environd round,
That none the same way may out-win; Yet many ways to enter may be found,
But none to issue forth when one is in ;
And all within the riven walles were hung
Of which, the fad effect of discord fung:
Dishevered spears, and shields ytorne in twaine,
Nations captived, and huge arinies slaine :
There was the figne of antique Babylon,
Of sacred Salem, and fad Ilion,
For which the three faire goddesses did firive:
Of Alexander, and the princes five, Which shar'd to them the spoiles which he had got alives
And there the reliques of the drunken fray, The which amongst the Lapithees befell,
And of the bloody feaft, which fent away So many centaurs drunken souls to hell, That under
Alcides' furie fell :