III.

Shall I by eloquence controul,

Or challenge send to mighty ROLLE,
Whene'er on Peers he vents his gall?

Uplift my hands to pull his nose,

And twist and pinch it till it grows,
small?...

Like mine, aside, and small?
Say, by what process may I once obtain
A verdict, Lord, not let me sue in vain!
In Commons, and in Courts below,
My actions have been try'd;--
There Clients who pay most, you know,
Retain the strongest side!.

True to these terms, I preach'd in politics for Pitt,
And Kenyon's law maintain'd against his Sovereign's writ.
What though my father be a porpus,
He may be mov'd by Habeas Corpus-
Or by a call, whene'er the State

Or Pitt requires his vote and weight-
I tender bail for Bottle's warm support,
Of all the plans of Ministers and Court!
IV..

And Oh! should Mrs. Arden bless me with a child,
A lovely boy, as beauteous as myself and mild;'
The little Pepper would some caudle lack:
Then think of Arden's wife,

My pretty Plaintiff's life,

The best of caudle's made of best of sack!
Let thy decree

But favour me,

My bills and briefs, rebutters and detainers,

To Archy I'll resign

Without a fee or fine,

Attachments, replications, and retainers!

To Juries, Bench, Exchequer, Seals,

To Chanc'ry Court, and Lords, I'll bid adieu;
No more demurners nor appeals ;-

My writs of error shall be judg'd by you.

V.

And if perchance great Doctor Arnold should retire,
Fatigu'd with all the troubles of St. James's Choir;
My Odes two merits shall unite;

* BEARCROFT, my friend,

His aid will lend,

And set to music all I write;

Let me then, Chamberlain without a flaw,

For June the fourth prepare,

The praises of the King

In legal lays to sing,'

Until they rend the air,

And prove my equal fame in poesy and law!

* This Gentleman is a great performer upon the Piano Forte, as well as the Speaking Trumpet and Jews' Harp.

1

NUMBER IX.

ODE,

By NATHANIEL WILLIAM WRAXHALL, Esq. M.P.

I.

MURRAIN seize the House of Commons !
Hoarse catarrh their windpipes shake!
Who, deaf to travell'd Learning's summons,
Rudely cough'd whene'er I spake !
North, nor Fox's thund'ring course,

Nor e'en the Speaker, tyrant, shall have force
To save thy walls from nightly breaches,

From Wraxhall's votes, from Wraxhall's speeches.

Geography, terraqueous maid,

Descend from globes to statesmen's aid!

Again to heedless crouds unfold

Truths unheard, tho' not untold:

Come, and once more unlock this vasty world-
Nations attend! the map of Earth's unfurl'd!

II.

Begin the song, from where the Rhine,

The Elbe, the Danube, Weser rolls
Joseph, nine circles, forty seas are thine-

Thine, twenty millions souls

Upon a marish flat and dank

States, Six and One,

Dam the dykes, the seas embank,
Maugre the Don I

A gridiron's form the proud Escurial rears,

While South of Vincent's Cape anchovies glide :
But, ah! o'er Tagus, once auriferous tide,
A priest-rid Queen, Braganza's sceptre bears
Hard fate that Lisbon's Diet-drink is known
To cure each crazy constitution but her own!
III.

I burn! I burn! I glow ! I glow!
With antique and with modern lore!
I rush from Bosphorus to Po-

To Nilus from the Nore.

Why were thy Pyramids, O Egypt! räis'd,
But to be measur'd, and be prais'd?
Avaunt, ye Crocodiles! your threats are vain!
On Norway's seas, my soul, unshaken,
Brav'd the Sea-Snake and the Craken!
And shall I heed the River's scaly train?
Afric, I scorn thy Alligator band!
Quadrant in hand

I take my stand,

And eye thy moss-ciad needle, Cleopatra grand!
O, that great Pompey's pillar were my own!
Eighty-eight feet the shaft, and all one stone!
But hail, ye lost Athenians!

Hail also, ye Armenians!

Hail once, ye Greeks, ye Romans, Carthagenians! Twice hail, ye Turks, and thrice, ye Abyssinians! Hail too, O Lapland, with thy squirrels airy!

Hail, Commerce-catching Tipperary!

Hail, wonder-working Magi!

Hail, Ouran-Outangs! Hail, Anthropophagi !

Hail, all ye cabinets of every state,

From poor Marino's Hill, to Catherine's Empire great!

All have their chiefs, who speak, who write, who seem

to think,

Caermarthens, Sydneys, Rutlands, paper, pens, and ink;

IV.

Thus, through all climes, to earth's remotest goal,
From burning Indus to the freezing Pole,

In chaises and on floats,

In dillies, and in boats;

Now on a camel's native stool;
Now on an ass, now on a mule.
Nabobs and Rajahs have I seen;
Old Bramins mild, young Arabs keen:
Tall Polygars,

Dwarf Zemindars,

Mahommed's tomb, Killarney's lake, the fane of Ammon, With all thy Kings and Queens, ingenious Mrs. Salmon*: Yet vain the majesties of wax!

Vain the cut velvet on their backs

GEORGE, mighty GEORGE, is flesh and blood-
No head he wants of wax or wood!
His heart is good!

(As a King's shou'd)

And every thing he says is understood!

Exhibits the Wax-work, in Fleet-Street.