"For he who has fufficient art
"To make a coach, may make a cart.
"To thefe you'll yoke fome fixteen bees,
"Who will difpatch your work with eafe;
"And come and go, and go and come,
To bring your honey harvest home.
"Ma'm, architecture you're not skill'd`in,
"I don't approve your way of building;
"In this there's nothing like defign,
"Pray learn the use of Gunter's line..
"I'll ferve your Highness at a pinch,
"I am a fcholar every inch,
"And know each author I lay fift on,
"From Archimedes down to Whiston.-
"Tho' honey making be your trade,
"In chemistry you want fome aid.-
"Pleas'd with your work, altho' you fing,
"You're not quite right-'tis not the thing,
Myself wou'd gladly be an actor,
To help the honey manufacture.—
"I hear for war you are preparing,
"Which I fhould like to have a fhare in ;
"Yet tho' the enemy be landing,
"'Tis wrong to keep an army ftanding.-
"If you'll enfure me from the laws
"I'll write a pamphlet in your caufe.-
"I vow I am concern'd to fee
"Your want of state-œconomy.
Of nothing living I pronounce ill, But I don't like your privy-council." "There is, I know, a certain bee,
(Wou'd he was from the miniftry) "Which certain bee, if rightly known, "Wou'd prove no better than a drone;
There are (but I fhall name no names, "I never love to kindle flames)
"A pack of rogues with crimes grown callous,
"Who greatly wou'd adorn the gallows,;
That with the wafps, for paltry gold,
"A fecret correfpondence hold,
Yet you'll be great-your fubjects free, "If the whole thing be left to me.
Thus, like the waters of the ocean, His tongue had run in ceafelefs motion, Had not the Queen ta'en up in wrath, This thing of folly and of froth. "Impertinent and witlefs medler, "Thou fmattering, empty, noily pedlar!
By vanity, thou bladder blown,
"To be the football of the town.
"O happy England, land of freedom,
Replete with statefmen, if she need'em, "Where war is wag'd by Sue or Nell, "And Jobson is a Machiavel!"Tell Hardwick that his judgment fails, "Show Justice how to hold her scales.
To fire the foul at once, and please,
Teach Murray and Demofthenes;
Say Vane is not by goodness grac'd,
"And wants humanity and tafte.-
"Tho' Pelham with Mecenas vies,
"Tell Fame fhe's falfe, and Truth fhe lies;
And then return, thou verbal Hector,
"And give the bees another lecture."
This faid, the portal she unbarr'd,
Calling the Bees upon their guard,
And fet at once about his ears
Ten thousand of her granadiers.-
Some on his lips and palate hung,
And the offending member ftung.
Juft (fays the bard from out the grot)
Juft, tho' fevere, is your fad lot,
Who think, and talk, and live in vain.
Of sweet fociety the bane.
Bufinefs mifplac'd is a mere jest,
And active idleness at best.”
The CITIZEN and the RED LION of BRENTFORD.
I Love my friend-but love my ease,
And claim a right myself to please;
To company however prone,
At times all men wou'd be alone.
Free from each interruption rude,
Or what is meant by folitude.
My villa lies within the bills,
So-like a theatre it fills:
To me my kind acquaintance ftray,
And Sunday proves no Sabbath day;
Yet many a friend and near relation,
Make up a glorious congregation;
They croud by dozens and by dozens,
And bring me all their country coufins.
Tho' cringing landlords on the road,
Who find for man and horse abode ;
Tho' gilded grapes to fign-poft chain'd,
Invite them to be entertain'd,
And straddling cross his kilderkin,
Tho' jolly Bacchus calls them in;
Nay-tho' my landlady wou'd trust 'em,
Pilgarlick's fure of all the caftom;
And his whole houfe is like a fair,
Unless he only treats with air.
What? shall each pert half witted wit,
That calls me Jack, or calls me Kit,
Prey on my time, or on my table?
No-but let's haften to the Fable.
The eve advanc'd, the fun declin'd,
BALL to the booby-hutch was join'd,
A wealthy cockney drove away,
To celebrate Saint Saturday;
Wife, daughter, pug, all crouded in,
To meet at country house their kin.
Thro' Brentford, to fair Twickenham's bow'rs,
The ungreafed grumbling axle fcow'rs,
To pafs in rural fweets a day,
But there's a Lion in the way:
This Lion a most furious elf,
Hung up to reprefent himfelf,
Redden'd with rage, and shook his mane,
And roar'd, and rcar'd, and roar'd again.
Wond'rous, tho' painted on a board,
He roar'd, and ro›r'd, and roar'd, and roar’d.
Fool! (fays the majesty of beafts)
At whole expence a legion feasts,
Foe to yourself, you thofe pursue,
Who're eating up your cakes and you
Walk in, walk in, fo prudence votes)
And give poor BALL a feed of oats,
"Look to yourself, and as for ma'm,
"Coax her to take a little dram;
"Let Mifs and Pug with cakes be fed,
Then honeft man go back to bed;
You're better, and you're cheaper there,
Where are no hangers on to fear,
"Go buy friend Newbery's new Pantheon, And con the tale of poor Acteon,
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