As jovial CooKE, whose thirsty soul
Quaffs inspiration from the bowl,
Whene'er his spirits falter:

His grief and joy, his love and ire,
Are born of Bacchus, and their fire
Is stolen from his altar.

So HARRY, whether doom'd to roam
In banner'd camps, or loll at home

In TWICKENHAM's shady bowers;
Drink, and corroding cares resign-
Drink, and illume with generous wine
Life's dark and stormy hours.

From SOMERSET's beloved house,
Where lazy Treasurers carouse,
When BARDOLPH was ejected;
His nose with purple blossoms crown'd,
Tis said he called his party round,
And thus their grief corrected:

"Oh, ousted wHIGS! companions boon!
May fortune's wheel, revolving soon,

Prove kinder than our master.

Let us but stick together still,

With SHERRY'S luck, and SHERRY'S skill,

You need not fear disaster.

"For know, my friends, the prince has sworn, Altho' these sinecures be torn

Away from our pretensions;

That in some dear uncertain hour,
A future SOMERSET shall show'r

On us its posts and pensions.

"Ye whose stout hearts would ne'er submit

To all the eloquence of PITT,

Fir'd with the love of places;

Drink deep, and banish care and woe,

To-morrow we are doom'd to know

Short commons and long faces!"

H.

The COMET, as seen with a Night Glass of a power of about 40, and field of 8o nearly, of the late Mr. DUNN, the astronomical lecturer, improved by NAIRNE and BLUNT.

TO THE COMET:

NOW SO BEAUTIFULLY CONSPICUOUS.
ILLUSTRIOUS visitant!-And art thou come,

From paths where faintly gleams our solar ray,

Some image of the glories to convey,

Awaiting man in his eternal home!

Where neither storms approach, nor clouds, nor gloom;
But smiles, invested with unfading day,

The pure expanse of Ether;-bright as play
The splendours, woven in Heaven's radiant loom,
Of thy soft-beaming train!-We think not now,
As Superstition erst, with troubled brow;

Nor view thee, with transcendant beauty endu'd,
As pestilence portending, famine, blood:

But rather deem an orb so fair as thou

To us and other worlds dispenses vital good!
Oct. 23, 1807.

ODE TO SENTÍMENT.

I.

DAUGHTER of dulness! canting dame!
Thou night-mare on the breast of joy,
Whose drowsy morals, still the same,
The stupid sooth, the gay annoy;

C. L.

Soft cradled in thy sluggish arms,

E'en footpads prate of guilt's alarms,
And pig-tail'd sailors sadly queer,

Affect the melting mood, and drop the pitying tear.
II.

When first, to tickle Britain's nose,

HUGH KELLY raised his leaden quill,
Thy poppies lent the wish'd repose,
And bade the gaping town be still.

Poor comedy! thine opiate lore
With patience many a day she bore,

Till GOLDSMITH all thy hopes dismay'd,

And drove thee from the stage by ToNY LUMPKIN's aid.

III.

Scar'd by thy lanthorn visage, flee
Thalia's offspring light and merry,
Loud laughter, wit, and repartee,
And leave us moralizing CHERRY.
They fly, and carry in their line,
GRIMALDI, Goose and Columbine,

To Sadler's Wells, by DIBDIN taken,

With him they vow to dwell, nor find themselves forsaken.

IV.

Soliloquy, with clamorous tongue,

That brings the lord knows what to view,

And affectation pert and young,

Swearing to love-the lord knows who.

Still round the midnight cauldron caper:

Warm charity with Newland's paper,

And baby bounty not unwilling

To give to mother dear her new King George's shilling.

V.

Oh gently o'er the modern stage,

Fair preacher, raise thy deafening din!

Not with the metaphoric rage,

That guides the sword of Harlequin. (As erst thou didst the town amuse) With tender bailiffs, generous Jews,

Socratic hosiers, praying sailors,

Chaste harlots, letter'd clowns, and duel-fighting tailors.

VI.

Forbear thy handkerchief of brine,
Some gleams of merriment admit;
Be tears in moderation thine,

To water, not to drown, the pit.
But if, with streaming eye askew,

Thou still wilt blubber five acts through,

Have pity on a son of rhyme,

Usurp the play-'tis yours-but spare the pantomime.

Who, in a contemporary work of last month, addressed a copy of verses to him on his jeu d'esprit, entitled-" Little things are best.”*

There is a saying, (far more old than witty)

That when a thing is LITTLE, it is PRETTY.

t I beg pardon for this if. I have no doubt that Petita is jolie comme sm amour, but I can't help recollecting the fair Rosa Matilda of the Della Cruscan school, whe in the end proved to be a black man. Such a match Old Nick declines.

-------------- They but now who seem'd

In bigness to surpass earth's giant sons;
Now less than smallest dwarfs, in narrow rost,
Throng numberless. Parad. Lost. B. 1.

But they could change, and I'm the same→→→
As good a devil every bit!

Yes, it shall, in thy magic eye,

Be just what thou shalt will it;
As thy warm heart, I'll be as high,*
And big enough to fill it.

MEMORANDA DRAMATICA.

1807.

THEATRE ROYAL DRURY-LANE

Oct. 21. Love in a Village.-Irishman in London.
22. School for Friends.-Forty Thieves.
24. Honey Moon.-Three Weeks after Marriage.
26. West Indian.-Forty Thieves.*

27. Time's a Tell-tale.f-Fortune's Frolic.

Oct.

* The Forty Thieves, after a long trial, seem condemned to hard Labour in this theatre, for we find them here constantly at work. It is a grand spectacle. The excellence of Mrs. Mountain in Morgiana, Mrs. Mathews in Zelie, Mr. Mathews in the Cobler, Mr. Decamp in Hasarac, and Mr. Raymond in Orcobrand, is by no means well supported by the Ali Baba of Mr. Purser. He is an actor of some merit in certain parts, but in this he is every way bad. The dancing of Miss Gayton is full of ease and grace.

+ Mr. H. Siddons, the writer of this comedy, is known in literature as the author of many amusing novels, and the transition from a novelist to a dramatist is as simple as the turning a round into a cocked hat; or making boots into shoes by lopping off the superfluous leather; or the process of distilling, which reduces the quantity but preserves the essence; for though the form is changed and made more compact, the nature of the stuff is the same. The quality, good, bad, or indifferent, of the one, as it forms a criterion by which to judge, is, however, a matter of some consideration with respect to the other.. In the case of Mr. Siddons they will be found to tally exactly: what he was in his novels, sentimental and amusing, without any remarkable novelty of character, variety of incident, or strong delineations of passion, he is in his drama, called Time's a Tell-Tale, whose dramatis personæ and fable have been thus described.

*As high as my heart. Shakspeare.

Mr.