352 
PARTY of young people having met to- 
gether to celebrate the termination of the 
old century and the commencement of the new 
ene, the two following Addrefies were fpoken 
in charaéters drefled and fuited to the occa- 
fiog. i 
EIGHTEENTH CENTURY, 
OLD MAN. 
Old as Iam, and ready to expire, 
Pro>t on my ftaff, I come at your defire ; 
Some few laftdying words you wifh to hear, 
Few they muj? be—for my la hour is near. 
Alas! time was that I was young like you, 
My days began in peace and plenty teo ; 
But e’en in infancy the ftorm of war, 
Came rufhing o’er my cradle from afar: 
When Lienbeim’s hero filled the world with 
awe, 
And gallant Bembow gave the ocean law, 
The cannon’s roar, the clath of hottile fpears, 
Were iounds familiar to my youthful ears ; 
My eyes affrighted faw th’ enfanguin’d plain, 
~ Where Death aad Horror held united reign. 
When thirteen iummers o'er my head had 
paft, 
To blefs the exhaufted world, Peace came at 
latt ; ‘ 
And had not fierce Rebellion broke my reft, 
My youth with tranguil pleafures had been 
*hlefs 
But what a chequer’d fcene my life has been! 
Five dreadful wars thefe eyes fatigued have 
feen; 
Five times, when Eagland meafured fpears 
with Frame, 
I faw their hoftile troops and fleets advance 5 
And, oh! what joy as often have I feen! 
Peace, with her olive branch, ftep in be- 
tween. 
But not with war alone my ears have rung, - 
Mufic, for me, her fweetef ftrains has fung 5 
How oft with rapture have I lift’ned long, 
When fweet Corel} chain’d th’ attentive 
throng, 
When Handel’s genius charmed the ravith’d 
ear 
With hallelujas, fuch as angels hear! 
Nor were the pow’rs of eloquence unknown, 
Not mightier fhook the Macedonian’s throne: 
Rouz’d by the people’s wrongs, lo! Chatham 
rofe, 
And hurled his attic thunder on their foes; 
Burke foar’d aloft on Fancy’s daring wing, 
Now lafh’d a venal court-——and now a king— 
Then funk; while Fox, with Freedom boldly 
join’d, 
And claimed the boon of Heav’n for all man- 
kind. 
For me how many a bard has tun’d his lyre, 
And caught, like Pope, the true poetic fire: 
Thomfon, who fweetly fung the rolling year, 
And Gray and Hammond to the Mufes dear; 
Pride of her fex, what ftrains has 4ikin fung, 
To-age a folace, tranfport to the young! 
Art too, and fciénce, held an equal pace, 
The pew’rs of t.an improving aature’s face 5 
2 
Original Poetry. 
[ March y, 
Tere rocks deep bor’d, and over thirfty 
ills, 
He leads the ductile flow-colleéted rills; 
From earth’s low orb, he bids. his car arife, 
And fails adventrous through the tracklefs 
fies 5 : 
Divided provinces converfe by fight, 
And fame flies {wifter than the winged light. 
But ah! thefe latter days are filled with woe, 
How finks my heart, my tears how faft they 
flow ! 
On ey’ry fide diftrefs that mocks relief, 
And famine fills the meafure of my grief. . 
Alas! I faint—the pow’rs of life ftand ftill, 
TPve lived my time, and now to Heav’ns high 
will 
I fink refigned—and Oh! whenI am gone, 
And fome young upftart fills my vacant threne, 
Forget me not, my friends;—Oh! {pare my 
fame ! . ‘ 
Nor heap foul flanders on my haplefs name: 
Let Candour tell the tale:—-Who has not 
fhax’d 
The num’rous feftive joys which I prepar’d ? 
Who has not tafted benefits from me, - 
Or found kind folace, een in mifery ? 
I fink—farewell—my creeping fands arerun—__ 
My fun is fet--and Heaven’s high will be 
done ! 
Enter NINETEENTH CENTURY. 
gs 
YOUTH. 
Ju& twelve e’clock !—and now I take my 
turn 5 j 
Zounds! what a merry thing ’tis to be born: 
Old Geffer, who has hobbled juft an age, 
Fell down in fits, they fay, and left the ftage:’ 
Upon my life! this is a pretty place, 
This motley world, where I muft run my 
race, 
Blefs me! what charming creatures have we 
here ! ; 
I'll fpeak to one—-Good morning, pretty dear‘ 
Thanks for that fmile, it welcomes me to 
life 5 
They told me I was born midft care and ftrife, 
But here | neither woe nor ftrife can fee, 
At leaft no ftrife but who fhould honour ze. ~ 
Ill take a turn around, and fee what’s doing, 
What bufy throngs, retreating and purfuing! . ~ 
What joftling buftling crowds obftruét the 
way, . 
Rites fhare the fortunes of the day: 
Hark! what was there! js that the cannon’s 
roar ? 
Go—bid them give this monftrous folly o’er; 
Tell them, that Gagfer Gray is dead and gone, 
And I am ftepped into his vacant throne ; 
Tell them it is my will that difcord ceafe, 
I come, to give the fuffering nations peace > 
Peace they thall have, and he who breaks the 
rule, + / 
Pil chronicle a villain or a fool. 
Pray gentles, have we got a prophet here? 
One who can peep thro” many a diftant year ; 
P . Can 
