1795] ees! 
ORIGINAL 
THE MENAGERIE OF THE GODS. 
FROM THE GERMAN OF BURGER. 
OUR lap-dogs and monkeys, our fquixrels and 
cats, 
Our parrots, canaries, and larks, 
Have furnifht amufement to many old maids, 
And once in a while to young iparks. 
In heaven, where time pafies heavily too, 
When the gods have no fubiect to talk on, 
ove calls for an eagle, he keeps in a mew, 
As an old Englith baron his: falcon. 
He lets it jump up of his fofa and chair, 
And dip its crookt beak in his cup; _ 
And laughs when it pinches young Ganimed’s 
ear, 
Or eats his ambrofia up. 
Queen Juno, who fears from rough play a mifhap, 
Keeps peacocks with rainbowy tails; 
And when fhe’s difpos’d to grudge Saturn his nap, 
Their fcreaming or fcreeching ne’er fails. 
Fair Venis moft willingly coaxes the doves, 
That coo. woo, and wed on her wrift ; 
‘The {parrow, her chambermaid Aglae loves, 
As often is fondled and kitt. 
Minerva, too proud to feem pleas’d with a trifle, 
Profeffes to keep her old owl, 
Whe crannies and chinks of Clympus to rifle 5 
For rats, mice, and vermin, to prowl. 
Apollo above ftairs, a firft-rate young blood, 
Has a ftud of four galloway ponies ; 
To gallop them bounding on heaven’s high road, 
A principal part of his fun is. 
*Tis fabled or known he inftructed a fwan, 
One fpring, to outwhiftle a blackbird, 
Which fings the Gaftalian ftreamlet upon, 
Like any Napolitan lack- beard, 
Lyceus in India purchas’d a pair 
Of tygers, delightfully pyball’d, 
And drives them about at the foeed of a hare, 
With felf-fatisfaction unrivall’d. 
At Pluto’s black gate, in a kennel at reft, 
A mafiff fo grim has his ftation, 
That fearful of reaching the fields of the bleft, 
Some ghofts have made choice of damnation, 
But among all the animals, little and great, 
That are fofter’d and pamper’d above, 
| The afs old Silenus feleCis for his mate 
Is that which moft fondly i love. 
So quiet, fo fteady, fo guarded, and flow, 
He bears no ill-will in his mind ; 
And nothing indecent, as far as I know, 
_ Efcapes him before or behisd. 
So fully content with himfelf and his lord, 
He is us’d with good humour to take 
Whatever the whims of the moment afford, 
Be it drubbing, or raifins and cake. 
Montury Mac. No. iV; 
ae 
POETRY. 
He knows of himfelf ev’ry flep of the way, 
Both down to the cellar and back; 
A qualification, I venture to fay, ‘ 
No butler of mine ts to lack. 
So large is his rump, fo piano his pace, 
Tis needlefs the rider to gird on ; 
Tho’ fuddled the god, tho’ uneven the waysy 
He never gets rid of his burden. 
An afs fucn as this all my wifhes would fill; 
O grant me, Silenus, one pray’r, ; 
When thou art a-dying and planning thy will, 
Good father do make me thy heir | 
ca 
PRO PATRIA MORI« 
FROM THE GERMAN OF BURGER. 
ProR virtue, freedom, human rights,’ to fall, 
-Befeems the brave : it is a Saviour’s death. 
Of herves.only the moft pure‘of all 
Thus with their heart’s blood tinge the bat 
tle-heath. 
And this proud death ts feemlieft in the man 
Who for a kindred race, a country bleeds : 
Three hundred Spartans form the fhining yan 
Of thofe, whom fame in this high triumphy. 
leads, 
Great is the death for a good prince incurr’d ; 
Who wields the fceptre with benignant hand ¢: 
Well may for him the noble bare his fword, 
Falling he earns the bleflings ofa jand, 
Death for friend, parent, child, or her we love; 
If not fo great, is beauteous fo behold; 
This the fine tumults of the heart approve ; 
‘It is the walk to death unbought of gold. 

But for mere majefty to meet a wound— 
Who holds that great or glorious, he mifs 
takes : 
That is the fury of the pamper’d hound, 
Which envy, anger, or the whip, awakes, 
And for a tyrant’s fake to feek a jaunt 
To hell ’s a death which only hell en- . 
wine MORE 
Where fuch a hero falls the gibbet plant, 
A murderer’s trophy, and a plunderer’s prize, 


SS 
TO THE EVENING STAR. 
BY THE REV, MR: BIDLAKE,. 
BRIGHT eye of penfive eve! réfplendent arb 
That o’er the mifty mountains thineft clear ; 
Like a rich gem, 
Upon an Aithiop’s brow ! 
Thy lamp ferene; my now benighted fteps 
DireGis, to that bleft fpot where dwells my fair, 
Twin rivals who. can boaft 
More pure, more bright than thee. 
Ss Fox 
