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And Murray sighs o'er Pope, and Swift,
And many a treasure more,

The well judged purchase, and the gift
That graced his lettered store.

Their pages mangled, burnt, and torn,

The loss was his alone;

But ages yet to come shall mourn

The burning of his own.

ON THE SAME.

WHEN Wit and Genius meet their doom

In all-devouring flame,

They tell us of the fate of Rome,

And bid us fear the same.

O'er Murray's loss the Muses wept,

They felt the rude alarm,

Yet blessed the guardian care that kept
His sacred head from harm.

There Memory, like the bee that's fed
From Flora's balmy store,

The quintessence of all he read

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Had treasured up before.

The lawless herd, with fury blind,

Have done him cruel wrong;

The flowers are gone—but still we find
The honey on his tongue.

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ON A GOLDFINCH,

STARVED TO DEATH IN HIS CAGE.

TIME was when I was free as air,
The thistle's downy seed my fare,
My drink the morning dew;
I perched at will on every spray,
My form genteel, my plumage gay,
My strains for ever new.

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REPORT OF AN ADJUDGED case.

But gaudy plumage, sprightly strain,
And form genteel were all in vain,

And of a transient date;

For caught and caged, and starved to death,
In dying sighs my little breath

Soon passed the wiry grate.

Thanks, gentle swain, for all my woes,

And thanks for this effectual close

And cure of every ill!

More cruelty could none express;
And I, if you had shown me less,
Had been your prisoner still.

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REPORT OF AN ADJUDGED CASE,

NOT TO BE FOUND IN ANY OF THE BOOKS.

BETWEEN Nose and Eyes a strange contest arose,
The spectacles set them unhappily wrong;
The point in dispute was, as all the world knows,
To which the said spectacles ought to belong.

So Tongue was the lawyer, and argued the cause
With a great deal of skill, and a wig full of learning;
While Chief Baron Ear sat to balance the laws,
So famed for his talent in nicely discerning.

'In behalf of the Nose it will quickly appear,

And your lordship,' he said, 'will undoubtedly find, That the Nose has had spectacles always in wear, Which amounts to possession time out of mind.'

Then holding the spectacles up to the court

'Your lordship observes they are made with a straddle, As wide as the bridge of the Nose is; in short, Designed to sit close to it, just like a saddle.

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'Again, would your lordship a moment suppose

('Tis a case that has happened, and may be again) That the visage or countenance had not a Nose,

Pray who would, or who could, wear spectacles then? 20

'On the whole it appears, and my argument shows,
With a reasoning the court will never condemn,
That the spectacles plainly were made for the Nose,
And the Nose was as plainly intended for them.'

Then shifting his side, as a lawyer knows how,
He pleaded again in behalf of the Eyes;
But what were his arguments few people know,
For the court did not think they were equally wise.

So his lordship decreed, with a grave solemn tone,
Decisive and clear, without one if or but-
That, whenever the Nose put his spectacles on,
By daylight or candlelight-Eyes should be shut.

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TABLE TALK.

'Si te fortè meæ gravis uret sarcina chartæ,
Abjicite.'

Hor. Lib. 1. Ep. 13.

[ARGUMENT:-True and false glory, 1-Kings made for men, 47— Royalty in England, 63-Quevedo's satire on kings, 94-Kings to be pitied, 108-Englishmen's scorn of arbitrary rule, 205-French and English character contrasted, 235-Blessings of freedom, 261-Freedom needs the restraints of law, 311-Instance in the Gordon Riots, 319Patriotism of Chatham, 337-Political dangers of England, 363National corruption portends national ruin, 415-Politics and Providence, 439-Poets are Prophets, 481-Lofty subjects to be chosen for Poetry, 507—Homer, Virgil, Milton, 557-Progress of Puesy, 569— Religion the highest theme for the Poet, 718.]

A. You told me, I remember, glory built
On selfish principles, is shame and guilt,
The deeds that men admire as half divine
Stark naught, because corrupt in their design.
Strange doctrine this! that without scruple tears
The laurel that the very lightning spares,
Brings down the warrior's trophy to the dust,
And eats into his bloody sword like rust.

B. I grant that men continuing what they are,
Fierce, avaricious, proud, there must be war;
And never meant the rule should be applied
To him that fights with Justice on his side.

Let laurels drenched in pure Parnassian dews,
Reward his memory, dear to every Muse,

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Who with a courage of unshaken root,
In Honour's field advancing his firm foot,
Plants it upon the line that Justice draws,
And will prevail or perish in her cause.
'Tis to the virtues of such men, man owes
His portion in the good that Heaven bestows;
And when recording History displays

Feats of renown, though wrought in ancient days,
Tells of a few stout hearts that fought and died
Where Duty placed them, at their country's side;
The man that is not moved with what he reads,
That takes not fire at their heroic deeds,
Unworthy of the blessings of the brave,
Is base in kind, and born to be a slave.
But let eternal Infamy pursue

The wretch, to naught but his ambition true,
Who for the sake of filling with one blast
The post-horns of all Europe, lays her waste.
Think yourself stationed on a towering rock,
To see a people scattered like a flock,
Some royal mastiff panting at their heels,
With all the savage thirst a tiger feels;
Then view him, self-proclaimed in a gazette,
Chief monster that has plagued the nations yet!
The globe and sceptre in such hands misplaced,
Those ensigns of dominion, how disgraced!

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The glass that bids man mark the fleeting hour,

And Death's own scythe, would better speak his power;

Then grace the bony phantom in their stead

With the king's shoulder-knot and gay cockade;

Clothe the twin brethren in each other's dress,

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The same their occupation and success.

A. 'Tis your belief the world was made for man, Kings do but reason on the selfsame plan; Maintaining yours, you cannot theirs condemn,

Who think, or seem to think, man made for them.
B. Seldom, alas! the power of logic reigns
With much sufficiency in royal brains;

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