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STANZAS

SUGGESTED BY A VIEW, IN 1766,

OF THE

SEAT AND RUINS OF A DECEASED NOBLEMAN,

AT KINGSGATE, KENT.

OLD, and abandon’d by each venal friend,
Here

H d took the pious resolution
To smuggle a few years, and strive to mend

A broken character and constitution.

On this congenial spot he fix'd his choice;

Earl Goodwin trembled for his neighb'ring sand, Here sea-gulls scream, and cormorants rejoice,

And mariners, though shipwreck’d, fear to land.

Here reigns the blusťring North and blighting East,

No tree is heard to whisper, bird to sing; Yet Nature could not furnish out the feast,

Art he invokes new terrors still to bring.

Now mould'ring fanes and battlements arise,

Turrets and arches nodding to their fall, Unpeopled monastries delude our eyes,

And mimic desolation covers all.

“ Ah!” said the sighing peer, “had B-te been

66 true, 66 Nor, - ,- ,- 's friendship vain, “ Far other scenes than this had grac'd our view,

66 And realiz’d the glories which we feign.

“ Purg'd by the sword, and purify'd by fire, .“ Then had we seen proud London's hated walls; 66 Owls should have hooted in St. Peter's choir,

“ And foxes stunk and litter'd in St. Paul's.”

JEMMY TWITCHER;

OR,

THE CAMBRIDGE COURTSHIP.

[This jeu d'esprit was written a short time previous to the Election of a

High Steward of the University of Cambridge, for which Office the Noble Lord alluded to made an active Canvass. ]

W HEN sly Jemmy Twitcher had smugg’d up

his face, With a lick of court white-wash, and pious grimace, A wooing he went, where three sisters of old In harmless society guttle and scold.

Lord! sister, says Physic to Law, I declare, Such a sheep-biting look, such a pick-pocket air ! Not I for the Indies!—You know I'm no prude,But his name is a shame,--and his eyes are so lewd! Then he shambles and straddles so oddly—I fearNo-at our time of life 'twould be silly, my dear.

I don't know, says Law, but methinks for his look 'Tis just like the picture in Rochester's book; Then his character, Phizzy, -his morals — his · life When she died, I can't tell—he once had a wife;They say he's no Christian, loves drinking and

W- 8, And all the town rings of his swearing and roaring, And filching and lying, and Newgate-bird tricks;-Not I; for a coronet, chariot and six.

Divinity heard, between waking and dozing, Her sisters denying, and Jemmy proposing: From table she rose, and with bumper in hand, She stroked up her belly, and stroked down her

band What a pother is here about wenching and roaring! Why, David lov'd catches, and Solomon

w g : Did not Israel filch from the Egyptians of old, Their jewels of silver and jewels of gold? The prophet of Bethel, we read, told a lie; He drinks--so did Noah;-he swears---so do I:

To reject him for such peccadillos were odd; Besides, he repents—for he talks about G**

[To Jemmy] Never hang down your head, you poor penitent elf, Come buss me—I'll be Mrs. Twitcher myself.

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