50. Original Poetry. 
“Whose well-adjusted tones give strength to 
sense, 
And add new-ornaments to eloquence ? 
Is there a youth who eminently glows 
With the best fires the human bosom knows 5 
In whom the variegated hues contend 
Of the best son, best brother, cousin, friend ? 
Is there a youth to justice strictly true ; 
Who gives to friend and foe alike their due ; 
Whom decent honour, whom sedateness rules, 
Who scorns to flatter, or to laugh at fools? 
Is there a youth on whom each rarest good 
Nature allied with Fortune has bestow’d 5 
Whose talents, manners, dignity, and grace, 
Reflect new splendour on a splendid race ? 
A youth whose foibles Reason can subdue, 
And wilJ,ere manhood, save some darling few 5 
A youth whose fortune Moderation guards, 
Save when he quits her government for 
cards ? 
There is that youth, who answers what we 
read, 
Nor of him other portraiture we need: 
Describe the phenix on the fragant pyre, 
Or into life em. rging from the fire, 
Ox high transportingthrough th’ ethereal reign 
His parent’s ashes to Apollo’s fane; 
Then where’s the mortal who, when this is 
heard, 
Shall take the phenix for another bird ? 
And who cshall err, and attributes well 
known 
Transfer to others what suit F-x alone. 
; PB. E, 
ANSWER TO THE PRECEDING. 
€é WHEN Cloe’s picture was to Venus 
shewn, 
S* Surprised the goddess took it for her own.” 
But so characteristic are thy lines, 
Truth with such energy so brightly shines, 
That none can, sure, the picture misapply, 
But all before the F must place C. I. 
M. B. 
SS 
THE FOLLOWING INSCRIPTIONS WERE 
WRITTEN BY Mr. PRATT ox two 
ELEGANT -HAND FIRE SCREENS, THE 
HANDLES OF WHICH WERE TURNED BY 
A GENTLEMAN, THE PAINTINGS BY A 
EADY. 
FIRST SCREENe 
YV HILE the hand that we love with affec- 
; tion we press, 
And the heart we have won we with fond- 
ness address, 
From Fashion’s false dazzle and Faction’s false 
heat, 
While at home we repose in our tranquil re- 
~ treat; 
Beside our own hearth where ourselves we 
enjoy, 
How useful, how moral, is this little toy ! 
To point out the pleasures most felt as least 
Seen, 
That glow in the bosom, how apt is the 
Screen? 
[Aug. 1, 
And ah! as wé move it, and sit shug be- 
hind, ad 
Hew soit the Reflections it casts on the mind. 
SECOND SCREEN. 
Reflectior's. 
What more can a high-favour’d mortal re- 
quire, : 
Life’s warmth te receive, yet attemper its 
fire ? 
The joys of the World like our faggot mag 
fiare, 
But the joys of our Home tho’ they glow should 
ne’er glare ; - 
The first, like the faggot, may crackle and 
flout, 
Just seorch for a minute and then quite go 
out 5 
While true bliss, like the sun, never squan- 
cers the light, 
And tho’ shining for ever, for ever is bright; 
And the reason is plain, why like him we 
thus burn, 
>Tis because we, like him, oncur ewn axis 
turn. 
—— 
ADDRESS, 
WRITTEN TO BE SPOKEN AT THE PER- 
FORMANCE OF MISS OWFNSON’S COMIC 
OPERA OF ** THE FIRST ATTEMET 3 
OR, WHIM OF THE MOMENT.” 
By JOSEPH ATKINSON, esq. 
HIS Night a novice, to the stage un- 
known, 
To all the failings of an author prone, 
Comes here a penitent, to make confession, 
Hoping you'll pardon this her first transgres- 
sion; 
If to amuse you, should be deem’da crime; 
Forgive her motive and she’ll mend in time j 
Like other poets, former faults review,. 
€¢ Repent old follies, and solicit new,”” 
Perhaps e’re now the busy voice of Fame, 
Has whisper’d through the town the author's 
name ; 
Hints that her laurels have adorn’d Romance 
6 Twin’d with the shamrock, and the flowers 
of France ;* 
That an old fav’rite of the thespian art, 
Appears this night to take a daughter’s part, 
That all her powers, and filial love engage, 
To prove the comfort of a father’s age.” 
Hearts form’d like your’s can such endear- 
ments boast; 
And those who feel them best applaud thems 
most. 
Whether ’tis she or not, ’tis just the same, 
J for a female bard your favour claim. 
Amongst you bora, “tis your’s to nurse and 
raise 
Those brilliant talents which enhance your 
" ~praise. 
To you she gives this tribute of her Muse, 
Tho? vainly-tempted Britain’s stage to chuse. 
a na a & 
* The Novice of St. Dominic, and The 
Wild Irish Giri, 
ee 
t 
