But say, if there our steps were brought, Would these their power to please retain? ODE. Written after reading some modern Love-verses: TAKE hence this tuneful triflers' lays! Bring me the Muse, whose tongue has told Bring me the Muse, whose sounds of woe 1 Bring these-I like their grief sincere; ODE. I HATE that drum's discordant sound, To march, and fight, and fall, in foreign lands. I hate that drum's discordant sound, RENOWN'D Britannia! lov'd parental land! When wealth enormous sets the oppressor high, Not from perfidious Gaul or haughty Spain, But from thyself thy r. 'n must proceed! Nor boast thy power! tur know it is decreed, Thy freedom lost, thy power shall be no more! HENRY BROOKE. Ireland- 1706-1783. Dr. Sheridan had the honour of educating Henry Brooke, whose early genius was noticed by Swift and by Pope. When he was a very young man, his Aunt left to his guardianship, her only daughter, a beautiful girl, between cleven and twelve, with a slight portion. He placed her at a boarding-shool; but they became enamoured of each other; were secretly married, and Mrs. Brooke had her first child before she was fourteen. Brooke removed to London, abandoning law for literature. The Prince of Wales patronised him, and he on his part espoused his patrons politicks, with such indiscreet and dangerous violence, that his wife, exerting all her influence, made him abandon all his prospects of advancement in this country, and return to his paternal seat. Here his brother and his brothers family, domesticated. with him; but he mpoverished himself by a thoughtless. generosity, and was obliged to mortgage, and at last to sell, his hereditary estate. He took a farm in its neigh bourhood, and bore up well against adversity; till the death of his wife, (whom for nearly fifty years he had loved tenderly) gave his intellects a shock which they never recovered. He was advanced in life himself, and his after productions all bear the marks of debility and derangement. Brooke published proposals for printing, by subscription, the History of Ireland. LITTLE JOHN AND THE GIANTS. AIR. Tune-' Ye Fairy Elves that be. COME follow, follow me, Ye jolly boys all, who be Divested of constraint From mortified saw or saint ; To pleasure, and prank, and pastime free, Come follow, follow, follow me! To prank, and pleasure, and pastime free, Come follow, follow, follow me! |