1799-] 
Far feud the cares with five-fold talons 
fraught, a 
And all the foul a calm delight o’erflows 5 
The tafte is foothd by many a4 lufcious 
draught, 
So to be folac’d only tea beftows. 
ft in my tent, if leifure moments fuit, 
And toiling duty his beheft withholds, 
One hand moves to and fro the warm /harute, 
And one the fragrant-fteaming goblet holds. 
At times the bland luxurious draught I raife, 
Then o’er the flowers my frefhen’d fenfes 
bead, 
While, with the fainted dead, my fancy 
ftrays, 
Who lowd mankind, and ftill his fortunes 
tend, 
Ou-tfuens then before me feems to glide: 
The fpicy leaf he roll’d and kindled firft, 
Frugal he liv’d, in blett contentment dy’d, 
And quaffs the incenfe yet with grateful 
thirft, 
Sometimes Lin-fou, in garb fuccing& attird, 
Hovers the poignant nofegay to prefent, 
As, when of lofty contemplation tir’d, 
He fnufts frefh ardour from the welcome 
fcent. 
Now Chas-chefu befide me floats to {pread 
His azure-flowery cups with confcious 
pride, 
Tn each an other-flavour’d tea is fhed, 
With frefh delight his every goblet ply’d. 
Now Yu-chouan the brimmed veffel tall 
Uplifts, his wide cheeks fcarce the flood 
contain: 
Not with the one fhall endlefs changes pall, 
Not with the other greedy thirft profane. 
But hark! the “geng-gong tolls the knell of 
day, ° 
Her odour’d pearls cool-handed Evening 
ftrows 5 
Young moon-beams ’thwart my filken cur- 
tain’s play, 
And on my fofa cling to woo repofe. 
Slow-breathing flumber, come: my ftrength 
decays 3 
With wings of down my glowing temples 
wrap, 
My faultering pen forgoes its tafk of praife.; 
Fearlefs I fink on nature’s hallow’d lap. 
——E j 
JUVENAL.—EIGHTH SATIRE 
IMITATED. 
GAY, ye who perch on lofty pedigree, 
What fruit is gather’d on this parchment 
; tree? 
Broad as it fpreads, and tow’ring to the skies, 
From root plebeian its firft glories rife. 
What then ayails, when rightly underftood, 
The boaft of anceftry, the pride of blood? — 
Through the long gall’ries pi€tur’'d walk to 
tread, 
And, pompous, ponder on the mighty dead ; 
- 
Original Poetry. 
Lady 
Where greatnefs rattles in fome rotten frame, 
Where feafts the moth on beauty’s fading 
flame? 4 
O’er the pale piture, and the nofelefs buft, 
Oblivion ftrews a foft fepulchral duft; 
The line illuftrious feems to ftain the.wall, 
And the fublime of foot envelopes all. 
What could the trophied lie to H-—— 
atone ; 
For Britifh honour mortgaged with his own? 
His nightly cares and watchings to fuftain 
A bank at Pharoah, and a chefs campaign 5 
While Wolfe, on high, in piétur’d glory lies, 
The cry of viétry hails, and, fmiling, dies. 
Dare C claim the honours of his kind? 
The pompous lineage fhames.the pigmy mind. 
His coat armorial chalk’d upon the floor 
Cofts what would fatiate a thoufand poor : 
Well pleas’d the peer one moment to amufe, 
Then yields the pageant to the dancer’s fhoes. 
 Bafe-born fuch men, tho’ fill’d with regal 
blood, 
The truly noxzre are the truly‘coop: 
And he whofe manners through his morals 
fhine, 
May rank himfelf of the Milefian tine. 
Let plain Humility precede his Grace ; 
Let modeft Virtue walk before the Mac® ! 
Office and rank are duties of the mind, | 
The rights they claim are debts they owe the r 
kind 5 
And not a voice among the namelefs crowd 
That may not cry—"Tis I who make them 
proud. 
To rule ftrong paffions /with a calm con- 
troul, 
To {pread around a fanctity of foul 
That meets, ferene, the foam of public ftrife, 
And perfumes every act of leffer life 
Virtue to feel, and virtue to impart, 
That houfhold Gop who confecrates the heart, 
Flies from the fretted roof, the gilded dome, 
To reft within an humbler, happier home— 
Behold the gentleman !—confefs’d, and clear; 
For Nature’s Patent never made a Peer, 
The mean ennobled; nor adorn’d the bafe: 
Merit alone, with her, creates a race: 
Confpicuous ftars, in chart of hift’ry plac’d 
To cheer the dreary biographic. wafte, 
In their own right, they take their feat fub- 
lime, 
And break illuftrious thro’ the cloud of time. 
From nick-nam/’d curs thefe titles firt began: 
A Spaniel, Cato: then, my Lord—a man. 
The felf-fame irony was fram’d to fuit 
The fawning biped, and the fawning brute. 
While Pompey fnores upon my lady’si 
THe infant lordling feeds, or ftaryes on paps 
Puppies well-bred are Cefar'd into fame, 
And Tommy T takes great Syaney’s 
name. 
Stillasthe name grows foil’d, and gathers‘dirt, 
They change their title as they fhift the hirt: 
Some newer honour makes them white and 
fair, 
Sydney foaps Tom, and Sack is cleans’d by 
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