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“ 'Tis like the Sun, because 'tis gilt, • Besides it travels in a Belt. « 'Tis like the Dutch we plainly see, “ Because that State, whenever we “ A Push for our own Interest make, “ Does instantly our Sides forsake. “ The Moon--why when all's said and done, " A Sword is very like the Moon:
" For if his Majesty, (God bless him) " When Country Sheriff comes t' address him, “ Is pleased his Favo; to bestow « On him, before him kneeling low, “ This o'er his shoulders glitters bright, “ And gives the Glory to the Knight. [Night] “ 'Tis like a Kilderkin, no doubt, “ For 'tis not long in drawing out. “ 'Tis like a Doctor, for who will “ Dispute a Doctor's power to kill?. “ But why a Sword is like a Whale, “ Is no such easy thing to tell. . “ But since all Swords, are Swords d'ye see, “ Why let it then a Backsword be: ; " Which if well used will seldom fail “ To raise up somewhat like a Whale."
A very amiable man, whose opinions were seldom wrong,
and whose feelings always right. Some of his poems are peculiarly happy.
* Shooter's Hill. This view was taken on the north side of the Thi mes, at Ratcliff,
The white sails glide along the shore,
But there, while these the sight allure.
And where the trees unfold their bloom,
But say, if there our steps were brought,
Written after reading some modern Love-verses. · Take hence this tuneful triflers' lays ! I'll hear no more the unmeaning strain Of Venus' Loves, and Cupids' darts, And killing eyes, and wounded hearts; All flattery's round of fulsome praise, All falsehood's cant of fabled pain.
Bring me the Muse, whose tongue has told
Bring these-I like their grief sincere;
ODE. I hate that drum's discordant sound, Parading round, and round, and round, To thoughtless youth it pleasure yields, And lure's from cities and from fields, To sell their liberty for charms Of tawdry lace, and glittering arms ; And when ambition's voice commands, To march, and fight, ad fall, in foreign lands.
I hate that drum's discordant sound,