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Her mourning is all make-believe;
'Tis plain there's nothing in it;
With weepers she has tipp'd her sleeve,
The while she's laughing in it.
IMPROMPTU, BY LORD ERSKINE TO LADY PAYNE,ON BEING TAKEN ILL AT HER HOUSE
'Tis true I am ill, but I need not complain;
For he never knew pleasure who never knew Payne .
TO C.J. FOX, ON HIS MARRIAGE
God's noblest work's an honest man ,
Says Pope's instructive line;
To make an honest woman , then,
Most surely is divine.
TO JOSEPH HUME, ON HIS ORATORY
You move the people, when you speak,
For one by one, away they sneak.
COWPER'S HOMER
Any-mad-versions when like this I see,
Animadversions they will draw from me.
TO LORD NELSON. BY PETER PINDAR
With his Lordship's night-cap, that caught fire on the Poet's head, as he was reading in bed at Merton
Take your night-cap again, my good lord, I desire,
For I wish not to keep it a minute;
What belongs to a Nelson, where'er there is fire,
Is sure to be instantly in it.
ON THE COUNTESS OF B , WHO WAS RUINED AT THE GAMING TABLE
Card-table epitaph
Clarinda reign'd the queen of hearts ,
Like sparkling diamonds were her eyes;
Till by the knave of clubs' false arts,
Here bedded by a spade she lies.
ADAM AND MACADAM
"The Macadamized streets are extremely dusty ."Morning Paper.
Adam was made of borrow'd dust;
So says the Bible; and, 'tis plain,
Macadam, to discharge the trust,
To dust turns all the ways of men .
THE INQUEST, BY E. KNIGHT, COMEDIAN
A hint to clever men employed on such occasions
"Poor Peter Pike is drown'd, and neighbours say
The jury mean to sit on him to day."
"Know'st thou for what?" said Tom. Quoth Ned, "no doubt
'Tis merely done to squeeze the water out ."
BY HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS THE DUKE OF SUSSEX
Royal Pun-Dit
Come, lament, all ye Rogers , of punning renown,
Whose praises are sung by the Puss sex,
For the pun of all puns that enraptures the town
Is the last by his big Grace of Sus-sex.
In dispensing last week the Dispensary toasts,
And telling the names of its Patrons,
He stumbled on two, of whom Watling Street boasts,
No matter if spinsters or matrons.
First came Mrs. Church, and then came Mrs. Bliss:
Said his Grace "Were such joys ever given!
We enter the first for the way we can't miss:
We enter the second 'tis Heaven !"
TO HOWARD PAYNE, THE COMPILER OF "BRUTUS."
Your prose and verse alike are bad,
Methinks you both transpose;
Your prose e'en like your verse runs mad,
And all your verse is prose .
DR. WALCOT TO SHIELD THE COMPOSER
The following was sent to Shield, the ingenious Composer, for his Ivory Ticket of admission to a Concert, by his friend Peter Pindar
Son of the string , (I do not mean Jack Ketch ,
Though Jack, like thee , produceth dying tones ,)
Oh! yield thy pity to a starving wretch,
And for to-morrow's treat , pray send thy bones !
Puss, a domestic animal allegorically a mature spinster a tabby . Johnson.
ON A MISER NAMED MORE
Iron was his chest,
Iron was his door;
His hand was iron ,
And his heart was More .
ON THE LATE JOHN KEMBLE
Written during the O.P. contest
Actor and Architect , he tries
To please the critics, one and all;
This bids the private tiers to rise,
And that the public tears to fall.
MAIDS AND BACHELORS
Old maids, in hell, 'tis said, lead apes;
It may be true but, tarry
They're bachelors that fill those shapes
Because they did not marry.
ON SEEING A SWAGGERING VICAR AND PHYSICIAN ARM IN ARM
How D.D. swaggers, M.D. rolls!
I dub them both a race of noddies:
Old D.D. has the cure of souls,
And M.D. has the care of bodies.
Between them both, what treatment rare
Our souls and bodies must endure!
One has the cure without the care,
And one the care without the cure.
ONE LAWYER MORE
"Pray does one More, a lawyer, live hard by?"
"I do not know of one ," was the reply;
"But if one less were living, I am sure,
Mankind his absence safely might endure."
PERCY BYSHE SHELLEY TO A SCOTCH CRITIC
In critics this country is rich;
In friendship and love who can match 'em:
When writers are plagued with the itch ,
They hasten most kindly to scratch 'em.
DAVID DOUBLE'S PETITION TO ONE OF THE INNS OF COURT
The Society of Clement's Inn having had iron
bars put up at the entrance to prevent porters,
cattle, or other nuisances from coming in, it
called forth the following lines from a "fat
single gentleman " to the principal and ancients.
Ye principal and ancient men, attend
To one of your unfortunate fat lodgers,
Whose studies make him lusty ; oh! befriend!
Or I shall surely call you ancient codgers .
'Tis true I came here, looking to the bar ,
And hop'd to have a call some day unto it;
But at your entrance now there many are,
Indeed so many, that I can't get thro' it.
"I can't get out ," as Sterne's poor starling said,
Unless I ask the porter to unlock it;
This must be alter'd, as I'm so well fed,
Or 'gainst my corpus you must strike a docket.
This may reduce me to a decent size,
And let me pass your cursed bars of iron;
Put up to keep us from the London cries ,
Which now your sanctum sanctorum environ.
For if I can't be taken in , 'tis clear
I cannot be let out ; and that gives trouble.
Ye principal and ancient men, oh! hear!
And let me pass the bar I'm David Double.
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