Ore) 
[March 
ORIGINAL POETRY. 
To THE SNow-Dxop. 
BY THE REV. JOHN BIDLAKE, OF PLY- 
_ MOUTH. 
of the wintry hour! ah! doom’d to 
tru& 
Thy tender beauties to inclement fkies ! 
 Firft off’ring of the year, 
And harbinger of Spring ! 
CradI’d in friendly greens, how penfive droops 
‘Thy nedding head! while in thy bafhful eye, 
As mournful of thy fate, 
Hangs fad a pearly tear. 
Cempanion of Adverfty! like thee, 
‘To dangers rough confign’d, the new- -dropt lamb, 
“With untftain’d flere and foft, 
Prefies thy verdant bank. 
Alas! in this bad world, nor Innocence 
Secures from biting Slander’s pois*neus teeth, 
Nor Gentlenefs itfelf, 
Her virgin fitter meek. 
CHILD 
‘The temper mild, that knows not howto frown, 
Nor of harth ale the fceptre how te wield, 
Is torm’d to fink before 
The boif’rous Paffions rage. 
Alas? like thee, poor injur’a Flavia bloom’d, 
The {weeteft bud of unfufpicious youth ! 
Like ee all purity, 
Like thee, to ftorms confign’d. 
But ab! the felt the rude unpitying breath 
Or Malice, keener than the wintry winds ; 
And fhrunk beneath the blaft 
That never, never fpares. 
Paor early victim of its pow’r, fhe funk 
Pitied, believ’d, and mourn’d, alas! too late ; 
Chill’d by the icy touch 
And early foot of Death. 
Ofe as thy chafte, thy unafluming face 
Shall deck the morning of the nafcent year, 
This wounded breaft fhall heave- 
With pangs of curelefs grief : 
When painful Mem’: ry tells how foon fhe fell, 
And haplefs pais’d, like'thee, fair {potlefs flow’ Hf 
Her little ie, Fanlorh, 
Amid the wilds of fate. 
can 
SonG’ To STELLA. 
BY THE REY. N. BULL, OF CHRIST COLL. 
CAMBRIDGE. 
SAY> why that deep and frequent figh 
Heaves thy foft bofom, gentle fair ? 
The tear that trembles in thine eye, 
Ah! flows it from the fount of care ? 
Thou look’ft, my love, like fome fair flow’r, 
Sinking beneath the dewy fhow’r. 
‘Too well I guefs thy fecret wee; 3 
Thou weepft to think, that one fhort x 
May bid thy beauties ceafe to glow, 
And pilfer every gvace away: 
"Tis this that melts ‘thy tearful Se Magen 
And heaves ) tender’breait‘with fighs.” ©” 
Yet fhall not all thy beauties fade 
Beneath rough Time’s auftere controul ; 
His keeneft frofts fhall ne’er invade © 
The bright recefies of thy foul, 
Which, purer than the veftal flame, 
For ever burns, and burns the fame.” ; 
EEE ———____. 
The »fellowing Lines were written to a Lady, 
who had 2 loofe Tooth extraGted, and f4 aftened 
in again by drilling-a hole through it, - and 
pafing two ligatures, by which it was tied 
to the tooth on each fide. 
DEAR Madam, tell an anxious friend, 
What terms you live on with your Tooth : 
T hope your jars are at an end 5 
But fill 1 wiih to know the truth. 
*Tis well you. was alarm’d in time, 
And took the hint, and Jook’d abouts, 
He and his neighbours could not chime, 
They threaten’d fhortly to. fall out. 
Fe then thew’d figns of infurrettion, 
And ieme acquaintance had with Pain; 
But now he’s drill’'d—a jutt correction, 1d 
And to the ranks reduc’d again. 
An action you commenc’d for trover,. . 
And Bradle y bade contention ceafe; 
He took him up, and bound him over, ~ 
And ty bin down to keep’ the peace. 
Then, Jeft himfelf fhould gain no fame, 
And you no profit from his labours ; 
As further fureties tor the fame, 
Bound over both his néxt-doir neighbours. 
Now let him learn to prize his lot, 
And try to keep within his tether 5 
Let each old grievance be forgot, _ 
And may you both long hold together. 
New-frreet, EHanover- Square. 
ee 
SKETCHES OF Two CHARACTERS. — 
DRAWN FROM THE LIFE. 
Fealous Love lighis bis torch at the firebrands 
ER 
of the Furies. BuRKE. 
Durum ; fed levius fit Patientia 
Quidguid corrigere eff nefas. HOR. 
AN-EPTGRAM. 
4AIR Rachel, as furely ds I have got corns, 
Made of Roger a cuckold complete ! 
On his head he now carries a huge pair of horns, 
And I-have got horns on my feet. 
Tho’ he knows at his antlers the people all fare, 
High he carries unblushing his creft— 
F ondly ogles his Rachel, at church, wake, 
and fair, 
Thanking God that of wives fhe’s the beft, 
O’er his dear faithlefs rib while he is fo {weet, 
With mute curfes my pains | exprefs ; 
And in nice fitted fhoes 1 tight buckle my feet, 
Tjhat none may my infirmity guets. 
Qpn. Se QUARE ToEsis 
Chapter Coffee :-houfe, March 10, 1796. 
A GLE, 
