POETICAL ESSAYS in JANUARY,

that other smiling fifter,
With the blue and laughing eye,
Singing in a woodland measure
Strains of woodland harmony:
All unknown to fame or glory,
Ear, blythe, and debonair,
Crown'd with flow'rs, her careless treffes
Loafely floating in the air.

Then, when next the ftar of evening
Softly sheds the filent dew,
Let me in this ruftic temple,

LISSY! meet the Muse and you!

Parcere fubje&tis,& debellare fuperbos. VIRG.
H: hear a penfive captive's pray'r,
For liberty that fighs;

And never let thine heart be shut
Against the prisoner's cries..

For here farlora and fad I fit

Within the wiry grate;

And tremble at the approaching morn,
Which brings impending fate.

If e'er thy breast with freedom glow'd,
And spurn'd a tyrant's chain,
Let not thy furong oppreffive force
A free-born moufe detain.

Oh! do not ftain with guiltless bod
Thy hofpitable hearth;
Nor triumph that thy wiles betray'd
A prize fo little worth.

The scatter'd gleanings of a feaft
My icanty meals fupply;
But if thine unrelenting heart
That slender boon deny,
The chearful light, the vital air,
Are blefings widely given;
Let Nature's commoners enjoy
The common gifts of heaven,
The well-taught philosophic mind
To all compaffion gives ;
Cafts round the world an equal eye,
And feels for all that lives.

If mind, as ancient fages taught,
A never-dying flame,

Still hifts thro' matter's varying forms,
In every form the fame,

Beware, left in the worm you crush
A brother's foul you find;
And tremble, left thy luckless hand
Diflodge a kindred mind.

Or, if this tranfient gleam of day
Be all of life we fhare,
Let pity plead within thy breast
That little all to fpare.

1773.
So may thy hofpitable board
With health and pea e be crown'd;
And ev'ry charm of heart-felt eafe
Beneath thy roof be found:

So when unfeen destruction lurks,
Which men like mice may fhare,
May fome kind angel clear thy path,
And break the hidden faare.

EPITAPH

43

On Mr. THOMAS HAMMOND, Parifk-
Clerk of Afhford in Kent, who was a good
Man, and an excellent Backgammon-player,
and was fucceeded in Office by a Mr.
TRICE.

POETICAL ESSAYS in JANUARY, 1773.

ANOTHER INSCRIPTION FOR THE

More than ftaunch whigs love all true hearts. To gain the callous Walter's heart

1773

The MONTHLY CHRONOLOGER.

The first was cloath'd from top to toe,

No part was left uncover'd'
Except her face, whose youthful glow
Her head-drefs almoft fmother'd,
Grave Walter counted ev'ry pin,

And ev'ry bandage noted;

Then cry'd, "I ne'er will ftrive to win
A town fo bridg'd and moated."

The next like Iphigenia ftood,
With looks far more enticing,
As when at Aulis, near the flood,
She ftripp'd for facrificing.

But Walter cries, "This fecond plot
To me appears as fenfelefs;
There's feldom booty to be got
In places left defenceless."
Thefe poor excufes, Walter, fave!
Away with thefe pretences !
Not Venus rifing from the wave
Could warm thy colder fenfes.

Not Befly, when he comes like spring,
To chear the whole creation,

Could transport to thy bofom bring,

Or wake the nobleft paffion.

Quills pluck'd from maiden grey-goose wings,
Or paper never wrote on,
In truth, are all the virgin things
That Walter e'er could doat on.

Thefe words indeed he oft has faid,
And many more abfurder;
That Chaos was a tumbled bed,
And marriage worse than murder.

The NEW COOKERY.

On the Mortality among the Aldermen.

N

45

O alderman now has a chance,
For Death will their bodies enhance;
Tho' black as a rook,

The devil's turn'd cook,
And therefore this im fh
He has made for a hash ;

There's nought like an alderman's fatcallipah.

And Death, the grim beast,
Always joins in the feaft,

And he fwears with great glee,

There's nought like an alderman's fat callipee.

Therefore poor Dicky Pickle,
The fond and the fickle,
And Shakespeare and Nah,
Muft make up the hash;

Death, what a feaft!-callipee-callipafb.

Now, if these two gobbling Goths,
Such lovers of aldermen's broths,
Should heighten their fare
With a flice of a may'r,

Why, if'tis their highneffes will, [grill.
We must give them poor Jemmy Townsend to
But then-fhould they think of a judge,
We cannot fay Nay-tho' we grudge :
But tho' this is harder,

They fhan't rob the larder-
To them we'll be civil,

And give them Lord M--d to broil for a devil.

T

THE MONTHLY CHRONOLOGER.

LONDON.

FRIDAY, January 1, 1773. HIS day at noon was performed before their majefties and the royal family the ode for the new year, written by William Whitehead, Efq. poet laureat, and fet to mufic by Dr. Boyce, mafter of the king's band of musicians. [See the Ode, the first article in the Poetry.]

Letters from Derbyshire mention, that laft week the Duke of Devonshire ordered 2001. to be diftributed to the poor in the neighbourhood of his feats at Chatsworth and Hardwick in the faid county, and alfo four fat

oren.

Early in the fpring, the workmen will proceed in building the royal lodge at Richmond for their majefties. According to the original plan it is to be 126 feet in length, en a fquare, on lofty arches, with vaults underneath, and will command an extenfive profpect.

Jan. 1773.

MONDAY 4.

This day the lord mayor held a wardmote at St. Swithin's church, London-Stone, for the election of an alderman of Wallbrook ward, in the room of William Nafh, Efq. deceased,, when Nathaniel Thomas, Efq. was chofen without oppofition. After the election, Mr. Thomas returned thanks in a fhort fpeech, and declared his refolution of ftudying the true intereft of the city of London in general, and that ward in particular, without favour or affection to any party; and that he did not know he could do it