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"O! Sir," reply'd a stander by,
"As much as you I hate a lie:
But trust me, at the time you mention,
(It is no tale of my invention)

I was at Calais waiting for a wind,
When, to my great and glad surprise,
Forth from the waves I saw him rise,
Beholding my distress, he was so kind
To mount again, and take me up behind;
Then jump'd into the deep profound,
And brought me home both safe and sound."

The moral's very easy to apply—
To shame a liar tell a greater lie!

DIALOGUE

Between Harry, who had a large Library, and Dick, who had more Understanding than Books.

QUOTH Harry to his friend one day,

"Wou'd, Richard, I'd thy head," "What wilt thou give for't?" Dick reply'd, "The bargain's quickly made."

"My head and all my books I'd give With readiness and freedom,"

"I'd take thy books, but with thy head

Gad-zooks I cou'd not read 'em."

English Chronicle.

ON LOTTERIES.

A LOTTERY, like a magic spell,

All ranks of men bewitches; Whose beating bosoms vainly swell, With hopes of sudden riches.

With hopes to gain ten thousand pounds,

How many post to ruin,
And for more empty, airy sounds,
Contrive their own undoing.

Life's greatest blessing, calm content,
No more attends his slumbers,
Who dreams of profit cent per cent,
And sets his heart on numbers.

He, who intent on shadowy schemes,
By them is deeply bubbled,
Deserves to wake from golden dreams,
With disappointment doubled.

Unmov'd by FORTUNE'S fickle wheel,
The wise man CHANCE despises,

And PRUDENCE courts with fervent zeal-
She gives the highest prizes.

LINES

By Sir Richard Lovelace to his Mistress, on his going to the Wars.

TELL me not, sweet, I am unkind,
That from the nunnery

Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind,
To war and arms I fly.

True; a new mistress now I chase,
The first foe in the field;

And, with a stronger faith, embrace
A sword, a horse, a shield.

Yet this inconstancy is such
As you too shall adore;

I could not love thee, dear, so much,
Lov'd I not honour more.

EPIGRAM.

ON IMPRISONMENT FOR Debt.

OF old the Debtor, that insolvent died,
Egypt the rites of sepulture denied ;

A diff'rent trade enlighten'd christians drive,
And charitably bury him alive.

English Chronicle.

Stuck

EPIGRAM,

upon the statue of the Moor which supports the Sun-dial in Clement's Inn.

IN vain, poor sable son of woe,

Thou seek'st the tender tear;

From thee in vain with pangs they flow,
For mercy dwells not here.

From cannibals thou fled'st in vain;
Lawyers less quarter give;

The first won't eat you till you're slain,

The last will do't alive.

Ibid.

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ON LELIA.

HAD I Titian's skill, to trace

A picture without fault or flaw,

A perfect form, a perfect face,

I then would Lelia's portrait draw.

Or had I Milton's pow'r of song,
Where strength with melody combin'd,
I'd sing in numbers soft, yet strong,
The nobler graces of her mind.

For none but Titian's art could paint
Her eyes, her mouth, her shape, her air;
His art alone could represent

So sweet a form, a face so fair.

And Milton's muse alone could tell
Her graceful ease, her polish'd art,
Her soul, where all attractions dwell,
And prostrate lays the proudest heart.

Monthly Review.

CUPID AND PSYCHE,

To some married Ladies.

WITH cheeks bedew'd with drops of pearl,

Sad Psyche sought the grove,

Where she her tresses us'd to curl,

With Innocence and Love.

Sweet Modesty, a rural maid,

O'ertook the weeping fair;

Ask'd why in loose attire she stray'd,
And why diffus'd her hair?

I Cupid seek o'er hill and dale,
From me the god has fled;

And (what's the cause I cannot tell),
He shuns the marriage bed.

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