140 
Mi try to rid thee of his bleffed fpell. 
The Britto] parfons can’t have got a faintfhip 
Home from Sienna yet. 
PULIX. 
No fear of that. 
LURIAN. : 
Tafte, hungred, firit, this {pitchcock’d gattle- 
fnake, 
And toafted toad, with affa-fetida. 
! how his long ears wag! The devil is 
nleas’d, 
His noftrils whifle—fhine his greedy eyes. 
Here—here’s an otter’s pluck—an owlet’s 
Wing, 
Dog’s tongues; with newts-eye fauce, and 
{pawn of frog, 
What will you drink ?—tobacce oil 
PULIX. 
© this is dainty diet !—My wrinkled belly 
Grows plump and {mooth, and founds like a 
brac’d drum. 
Were but my tail fet free—I too would go 
Into a monaftery. 
2 or gin? 
LURIAN. 
Pil fnap your fpell. 
This book I ftole from my old Coptic bifhop: 
Tis full of Pharao-writing, and contains 
Words that break every eharm but thofe of ‘Ao Pocus tee dear poifon for all his good 
faints. 
O! that this ink had never reach’d my eyes! 
Even the right is weak. Stroke back rny hair, 
That the brifk spat kes may light me asI read. 
“* Abirom! Tuki! Zakarufh! Mi frau | Sy 
{You fcratch like a tom-cat—pull in your 
claws). 
ee Abracadabra ! Kirlekamat/o! Wal!" 
PULIX. 
Hurrah !—Live dance, and frolic!——Pulix is 
free} 
My friend, let me embrace thee !—-One more 
hug! 
Now at the witches fabbath may attend 
Long-abfent 1—rewhirl the airy reel, 
Under each arma doxy—join their hurly 
Till mouth and noitrils {nort the flames of 
gice. 
LURBIAN 
How li ne afucking-iamb the old boy wriggles 
His tail for g} ludnetss Scfamble up behind, 
Pulix, on my goat. Your fhrivell'd enon 
wings 
Are for our thoufand miles of flight too feeble. 
Ciing clofe, and ciafp below the cloven feet. 
No w, goat, aloof !—-whizz thro” the air to 
Bloxker gy. 
—— ae 
To LIBERTY. 
WriTTEN In CoNFINEMENT. 
¢)} Geddefs with the jocund eye, 
That jov’ ft the lofty hills te reve 
With peace and gentie harmony, 
Ane health robuft, and fmiling love, 
Should mild compaii on in thy heart 
Yet dwell, attend tiy votary’s pray’r 5 
Beign of thy iragrance to impart, 
And} let me ot thy bleflings fhare! 
“th take me to fome peaceful deli 
With thee and {weet content to dweil. 
sf Jj. W- 
Original Poetry. 
[F eb, 
FROM MARTIAL. 
EprGram 78. B. vitr. 
HE fimple truth I with to hear, 
Nothing fo grateful to my ear!” 
This, when your fpeeches you rehearfe, 
Or long eflays in profe and verfe, 
Is {till to me your conftant cry, 
And ’twere unfriendly to deny. 
Come then—But fimple truth, I fear, 
Will xot be grateful to your ear. 

EPicraM 79. B. vir. 
O a knot of old tabbies, or, ugly as they,. 
Queer damfels, eternally clung, 
You thow off your perfon at park, ball and play, 
And thus you are handfome and hte E ; 

Ericram 6. B. 1x. 
You {pread your {nares rich John to weds: 
*Tis wifely done, Mifs Prue: 
john will not take you to his bed: 
Why, John does wifely too. 

On a WINE- MERCHANT.. 
EpicramM 36: B. x. 
"THE vileft of compounds while Balderdath 
vends, 
friends, 
No wonder they never can get him to dine 5 
He’s afraid they’d oblige him to drink his 
own wine. 
ic 
SONNET to HOPE. 
WHERE filent woods their dreary fhade 
extend, 
And give new horrors to thegloom of night, 
If chance the fwain his fault’ring footfteps 
bend, se 
In terror paufing for fome friendly light, 
How gladfome beats his heart when thro’ the 
glade 
Piercing the clouds he fees the moon's 
mild ray, 
Onward he iprings, with light and vig’rous 
tread, 
Andk ne the emprefs of the fainter day.— 
Thus, while thro’ life’s uncertain paths I rove, 
" Should dark defpondence fpread the gather- 
ing aoa 
May Hope’s joft luftre, ftreaming from above, 
Difpel the bodings of a mournful doom ; 
And when fad friendfhip marks my parting 
breath, 
May Hope’s henignant beam illume the 
vale of death. 
. WILLiaAmM SHEPHERD. 
—SEE ee 
EPIGRAMMA.—AD SOMNUM. 
SOMNE! levis, quanquam certiffima mortis 
imago, 
Confort: m cupio te tamep eff2 tori: 
im quies, optata veni; nam fic fine vita 
Vivere quam fuave eft! fic fine morte sori } 
TRANSLATION. r 
Image of death, my withes give 
With thee, a fleep, to lie: 
Thus, without life, how {weet to livet 
Thus, without death, to die. 
