Full circling pots een idleft hands employ ;
And wing the tedious hours with noise and joy.
This cordial draught can greatest cares appeafe,
And give the prisoner liberty and ease.
Drink but his fill, tho' narrow space detains
His body loaded with a weight of chains,
No pains he feels of body, or of mind,
But in the goal expatiates unconfin'd.

GRUBAEN authors malts ftrong juice infpires,
The coldest genius warms, and warmeft fires.
If PARSON's nobleft tun inflame their brains,
They foar in epic or pendaric ftrains:
If beer and beer exalt the studious head,
In tragic buskins they majestic tread.
But if fmooth ale in merry glaffes fmile,
The laughing bard employs the comic ftile.
If ale and beer their friendly pow'rs unite;
A comic tragedy he foon will write.
If beer and ale a nobler mixture joins ;
In tragi-comedy his genius fhines.
The force of either when it's drank alone,.
In ballad opera or farce is fhown.

If each is very mild, or very ftale,
In elegy 'twill whine, or fatire rail.
If bottled both, and neither small nor ftrong,
They froth in epigram, or fome in fong.
If bitter, thick and flat; it dully flows
In fhallow, muddy, low, and nauseous profe.
As the kind influence of defcending rain
Softens each feed, and brings forth every grain:
So mix'd with malt, it yields a potent juice,
Tinform each head, and every ftile produce:
In verfe, pindarics, epics, fatires, plays,
In profe, difcourfes, letters and effays.

If growth of FRANCE OF SPAIN, exotic wine,
To foreign scheme the statesman's head incline;
If numerous treaties fign'd disturb his fleep,
And half-form'd projects round his cranium creep
Next day to fettle all, the noble chief,
Of folid pudding and fubftantial beef,

True

True ENGLISH bafis lays; while native drink,
Sound, generous porter fills up every chink.
Shining in fenate now with fmile ferene,
The glorious ENGLISHMAN in face and mein,
Slow rifes from his feat fublime, fedate,
He rifing feems the pillar of the state.
Then hear him, hear him strains the members throats:
And the yeas have it by an hundred votes.

These are the effects of tubs with liquor fraught:
But greater ftill in empty tubs are wrought.
Ting'd with the noble juice, they ftill retain
Their potent influence on human brain.
The plump non con, when many a frothy can
Has ftrongly fortify'd his inner man;
When to due magnitude his veffels ftrain'd,
To fill the empty space itself had drain'd;
Afcends the tub: from which one circling head,
High o'er his own, for founding board is fpread.
The liquor works afresh thro' this new bung,
Fomes at his mouth, and fputters from his tongue.
High founds above th' ecclefiaftic drum:
The croud below returns a folemn hum.
'Twixt empty cask and empty skulls is found
A perfect fympathy of sense and found.
The tub, thus groaning with inceffant blows,
With doctrine, like the place from whence it flows,
The faints intoxicates, now empty, more
Than e'er, when full, the reprobate before.

Grubftreet Journal, No 44.

To Alderman PARSONS, our new LORDMARE.

O

PARSONS! thou who brew'ft the best of drink,
How glad am I that thou art made lord mare;
And that, as how, thou art for to be fo
Twelve good long months, not neither more nor less.
Thy houfe is free to all that come and go,
To drink their skins full of thy famous beer;
Which is as clear as fack, as ftrong as brandy,
And makes the citizens as drunk as lords.
I'll never pass thy doors, but I will call,
And take a fwigg; and whilst I stagger home,
I'll fing thy fame to all eternity.

A BALLAD, by a Lady.

I.

YE

knights of LA MANCHA, whofe pow'rful fword, No fair injur'd damfels in vain yet implor'd; Attend to the tale of us nymphs in diftrefs, Secure of our love, if our wrongs you redress,

Derry down

II.

As late on the plains of famous DUNSMORE
Of lords, knights and 'fquires a numerous ftore;
Bites, jockies and parfons affembled amain,
And belles in gilt chariots adorn'd all the plain, &c.
III.

There rural fox-hunters in plenty were seen,
Smart cocks, and plate buttons and doublets of green;
And while at our coaches they ogle and loll,
They tickle our fancies with thoughts of a ball, &c.

IV. But

IV.

But now friendly fhades introduce the kind night, And the dear precious hours to pleasure invite : When we from the beaux hop'd the devil and all, Tho' loaded with powder, they give us no ball, &c. V.

To the bear they adjourn'd,where they finish'd the jobb, They toafted our healths, but with a dry bob; His foul with FRENCH claret each hero did fwill, And while the cups mov'd, the ball it stood still. VI.

Fair CAVE's and bright SHUCKBURGH with LOVETT'S gay wit,

Muft all to the charms of a bumper fubmit ;
Oh! who will believe it, when fame fhall aver,
That CN did BACCHUS to VENUS prefer, &c.
VII.

But why with the reft, trufty CAVE, did you fail,
Who ne'er on the ladies was known to turn tail;
I fear fome field nymph did our pleasures foreftal,
And difabled our fpark that night for a ball, &c.
VIII.

--

Perhaps a ftrange truth we may feem to advance, That PET E now first baulk'd the nymphs of a dance; But no wonder we figh unregarded by all, Since e'en our own member affords us no ball, &c.

IX.

Ye nobles and commons, near DUNSMORE's wide

plain,

Who of the bad times and bad tenants complain;
By fympathy mov'd with our wishes comply,
Who now, like your farms, unoccupy'd lie.

X.

But ftill we have hope, and the muse that indités
This fonnet, infpires prophetical flights;
That times will improve, and next race yield a ball,
And nymphs and high taxes together fhall fall.

An

An EPITAPH.

H

ERE lies a piece of CHRIST, a ftarr in dust ;
A vein of gold; a china dish, that must
Be us'd in heav'n, when god fhall feast the just :
Approv'd by all, and lov'd fo well,

Tho' young (like fruit that's ripe) fhe fell.

To the Memory of Mrs. ANNE OLDFIELD.

STA

TAY paffenger a while, reluctant fee,
What beauty is, and what thy self shalt be,
How foon the faireft lilly will decay;
And warmest beings, are the coldest clay.
Tyrannick death at thy approach we fall,
And thou regardless, lay'ft thy hands on all.
From infancy, to youth, to riper years,
From man mature, to ages flaxen hairs:
The victor and the victim equal laid,

With him that drove the plough, and us'd the spade.

But here ! the mirror of the ENGLISH ftage,
(Not worn by troubles, nor o'ercome by age,)
Yields her to death's fupremer pow'r a slave,
And frozen lies imprifon'd in the grave:
Juft at the autumn of her years cut down,
And e'er her beauty fades, her life is gone.

Here! here! - the poor remains of OLDFIELD lay,

Gay was the pit whenever fhe was gay,
Coquetts would blush, and jilts would envy bear,
To fee themselves fo well perform'd in her;
While ev'ry air, our admiration draws,
And ev'ry exit, eccho'd with applause:
But when our SCOTTISH MARY was her part,
Or MARCIA fighing for her JUBA's heart;
Qr when enthrall'd with SOPHONISBA's cares,
The stage became a fea of briny tears.

The