COME, fly to these arms, nor let beauties so bloomy To one frigid owner be tied;

Your prudes may revile, and your old ones look gloomy,

But, dearest, we've Law on our side. Oh! think the delight of two lovers congenia', Their error how sweet, and their raptures how Whom no dull decorums divide; venial,

When once they've got Law on their side.

'Tis a thing, that in every King's reign has been done, too:

Then why should it now be decried? If the Father has done it, why shouldn't the Son,

And, if echo the charm of such houses should be, You will find it shall echo my speech to a T.

As for actors, we've got the old Company yet,
The same motley, odd, tragi-comical set;
And consid'ring they all were but clerks t'other
day,

It is truly surprising how well they can play.
Our Manager', (he, who in Ulster was nurst,
And sung Erin go Brah for the galleries first,
But, on finding Pitt-interest a much better thing,
Chang'd his note of a sudden, to God save the King,)
Still wise as he's blooming, and fat as he's clever,
Himself and his speeches as lengthy as ever,
Here offers you still the full use of his breath,
Your devoted and long-winded proser till death.

You remember last season, when things went perverse on,

We had to engage (as a block to rehearse on)
One Mr. V-ns-tt-t, a good sort of person,
Who's also employ'd for this season to play,
In "Raising the Wind," and the "Devil to pay,"
We expect too at least we've been plotting and
planning
To get that great actor from Liverpool, C-nn-g;
And, as at the Circus there's nothing attracts
Like a good single combat brought in 'twixt the acts,
If the Manager should, with the help of Sir
P-ph-m,

Get up new diversions, and C-nn-g should stop 'em,

His powers poor Ireland will never forget,
And the widows of Walcheren weep o'er them yet.

So much for the actors;- for secret machinery,
Traps, and deceptions, and shifting of scenery,
Y-rm-th and Cum are the best we can find,
To transact all that trickery business behind.
The former's employ'd too to teach us French jizs,
Keep the whiskers in curl, and look after the wigs.

In taking my leave now, I've only to say, A few Seats in the House, not as yet sold away, May be had of the Manager, Pat C-sti-r-gh.

THE SALE OF THE TOOLS.
Instrumenta regni.- TACITUS.

HERE'S a choice set of Tools for you, Ge'mmen and Ladies,

They'll fit you quite handy, whatever your trade is; (Except it be Cabinet-making; - no doubt, In that delicate service they're rather worn out: Though their owner, bright youth! if he'd had his own will,

Would have bungled away with them joyously still.)

You can see they've been pretty well hack'd-sd alack!

What tool is there job after job will not hack? Their edge is but dullish, it must be confess'd, And their temper, like E-nb'r-h's, none of the best;

But you'll find them good hard-working Tools, upon trying,

Wer't but for their brass, they are well worth the buying;

They're famous for making blinds, sliders, and

screens,

And are, some of them, excellent turning machines.

-

Be your taste for the ludicrous, humdrum, or sad, There is plenty of each in this House to be had. Where our Manager ruleth, there weeping will be, For a dead hand at tragedy always was he; And there never was dealer in dagger and cup, Who so smilingly got all his tragedies up.

1 Lord C-stl-r-gh.

2 He had recently been appointed Chancellor of the Exchequer.

"Tis ready to melt at a half minute's notice. Who bids? Gentle buyer! 'twill turn as thou

This implement, Ge'mmen, at first was a Vice;
(A tenacious and close sort of tool, that will let
Nothing out of its grasp it once happens to get;)
But it since has receiv'd a new coating of Tin,
Bright enough for a Prince to behold himself in.
Come, what shall we say for it? briskly! bid on,
We'll the sooner get rid of it-going-quite gone.
God be with it, such tools, if not quickly knock'd
down,

Might at last cost their owner-how much? why, a Crown!

The next Tool I'll set up has hardly had handsel

or

Trial as yet, and is also a Chancellor -
Such dull things as these should be sold by the

gross;

Yet, dull as it is, 'twill be found to shave close, And like other close shavers, some courage to gather,

This blade first began by a flourish on leather.' You shall have it for nothing-then, marvel with

me

At the terrible tinkering work there must be, Where a Tool such as this is (I'll leave you to judge it)

Is placed by ill luck at the top of the Budget!

LITTLE MAN AND LITTLE SOUL.

A BALLAD.

To the tune of " There was a little man, and he woo'd a little maid." DEDICATED TO THE RT. HON. CH-RL-S ABB-T.

Arcades ambo

Et cant-are pares.

1813. THERE was a little Man, and he had a little Soul, And he said, "Little Soul, let us try, try, try,

Of the taxes proposed by Mr. Vansittart, that principally pposed in Parliament was the additional duty on leather.". Ann. Register.

And, though they've been helping the French for years past,

We may thus make them useful to England at last. C-stl-r-gh in our sieges might save some disgraces,

Being us'd to the taking and keeping of places; And Volunteer C-nn-g, still ready for joining, Might show off his talent for sly undermining. Could the Household but spare us its glory and pride,

Old H-df-t at horn-works again might be tried, And the Ch-f J-st-e make a bold charge at his side:

While V-ns-tt-t could victual the troops upon tick,

And the Doctor look after the baggage and sick.

Leave old Magna Charta to shift for itself, And, like G-dw-n, write books for young masters and misses.

Oh! it is not high rank that can make the heart merry,

Even monarchs themselves are not free from mishap:

Though the Lords of Westphalia must quake before Jerry,

Poor Jerry himself has to quake before Nap.

HORACE, ODE XXXVIII. LIB. I.

A FRAGMENT.

Persicos odi, puer, adparatus: Displicent nexæ philyra coronæ; Mitte sectari, Rosa quo locorum Scra Moretur.

TRANSLATED BY A TREASURY CLERK, WHILE WAITING DINNER FOR THE RIGHT HON, G-RGE R-SE.

Bor, tell the Cook that I hate all nick-nackeries, Fricassees, vol-au-vents, puffs, and gim-crack

eries

Six by the Horse Guards!-old Georgy is lateBut come lay the table-cloth - zounds! do not wait,

Nor stop to inquire, while the dinner is staying, At which of his places Old R―e is delaying!?

HORACE, ODE I. LIB. III.

A FRAGMENT.

Odi profanum vulgus et arceo:
Favete linguis : carmina non prius

Audita Musarum sacerdos

Virginibus puerisque canto.

Regum timendorum in proprios greges, Reges in ipsos imperium est Jovis.

1813.

I HATE thee, oh, Mob, as my Lady hates delf; To Sir Francis I'll give up thy claps and thy hisses,

1 The character given to the Spanish soldier, in Sir John Murray's memorable despatch.

2 The literal closeness of the version here cannot but be admired. The Translator has added a long, erudite, and flowery note upon Ruses, of which I can merely give a specimen at present. In the first place, he ransacks the Rosarium Politicum of the Persian poet Sadi, with the hope of finding some Political Roses, to match the gentleman in the text but in vain: he then tells us that Cicero accused Verres of reposing upon a cushion" Melitensi rosâ fartum," which, from the odd mixture of words, he supposes to be a kind of Irish Bed of Roses, like Lord Castlereagh's. The learned Clerk

IMPROMPTU.

UPON BEING OBLIGED TO LEAVE A PLEASANT PARTY, FROM THE WANT OF A PAIR OF BREECHES TO DRESS FOR DINNER IN.

1810.

BETWEEN Adam and me the great difference is Though a paradise each has been forc'd to

resign,

That he never wore breeches, till turn'd out of his While, for want of my breeches, I'm banish

from mine.

next favours us with some remarks upon a well-known purning epitaph on fair Rosamond, and expresses a most loyal hope, that f "Rosa munda" mean "a Rose with clean hands" it may be fund applicable to the Right Honourable Rose in question. He the dwells at some length upon the "Rosa aurea,” which, though de scriptive, in one sense, of the old Treasury Statesman, yet, as bef consecrated and worn by the Pope, must, of course, not be broug into the same atmosphere with him. Lastly, in reference to the d words "ola Rose," he winds up with the pathetic lamentation the Poet "consenuisse Rosas." The whole note, indeed, shuwa a knowledge of Roses, that is quite edifying.

(The breed of the HUMS is as old as creation); Both, full-craw'd Legitimates-both, birds of prey, Both, cackling and ravenous creatures, half way "Twixt the goose and the vulture, like Lord C-STL -GH.

While FUM deals in Mandarins, Bonzes, Bohea, Peers, Bishops, and Punch, HUM, are sacred to thee!

So congenial their tastes, that, when Fuм first did light on

The floor of that grand China-warehouse at Brighton,

The lanterns, and dragons, and things round the dome

Were so like what he left, "Gad," says FUм, "I'm at home."

And when, turning, he saw Bishop L- -GE, "Zooks, it is,"

Quoth the Bird, "Yes-I know him- -a Bonze, by his phyz

"And that jolly old idol he kneels to so low "Can be none but our round-about godhead, fat Fo!"

It chanc'd at this moment, the' Episcopal Prig Was imploring the P- E to dispense with his wig,'

Which the Bird, overhearing, flew high o'er his head,

And some TOBIT-like marks of his patronage

shed,