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advantage-never did his assessor more amusingly console the discomfitures of the failing candidates-every thing that was affable, every thing that was mollifying, was ably expressed by both the judges; but poetical ambition is not easily allayed. When the fatal fiat was announced in favour of the Rev. Thomas Warton, a general gloom overspread the whole society-a still and awful silence long prevailed. At length Sir Cecil Wray started up, and emphatically pronounced A scrutiny! a scrutiny !—A shout of applause succeeded-in vain did the incomparable Buffo introduce his most comic gestures-in vain was his admirable leg pointed horizontally at every head in the room--a scrutiny was demanded-and a scrutiny was granted. In a word, the Lord Chamberlain declared his readiness to submit the productions of the day to the inspection of the public, reserving nevertheless to himself and his assessor the full power of annulling or establishing the sentence already pronounced. It is in consequence of the above direction, that we shall now give the public the said PROBATIONARY VERSES, commencing with those, however, which are the


production of such of the candidates as most vehemently insisted on the right of appeal, conceiving such priority to be in justice granted to the persons whose public spirit has given so lucky a turn to this poetical election. According to the above order, the first composition that we lay before the public is the following:




The SPELLING by Mr. GROJAN, Attorney at Law,

HARK! hark!-hip! hip!-hoh! hoh!
What a mort of bards are a-singing!

I'm sure there's a dozen a-dinging!

I hear sweet Shells, loud Harps, large Lyres-
Some, I trow, are tun'd by Squires----

Some by Priests, and some by Lords!-while Joe and I
Our bloody hands hoist up, like meteors, on high!

Yes, Joe and I

Are em'lous-Why?

It is because, great CESAR, you are clever→→
Therefore we'd sing of you for ever!

God save the King!

Smile then, CESAR, smile on Wray!
Crown at last his poll with bay!--
Come, oh! bay, and with thee bring
Salary, illustrious thing!

Laurels vain of Covent-garden,

I don't value you a farding!-
Let sack my soul cheer,

For 't is sick of small beer!

CESAR! CESAR! give it-do!

Great CESAR giv't all, for my Muse 'doreth you!-
Oh fairest of the Heavenly Nine,
Enchanting Syntax, Muse divine!
Whether on Phoebus' hoary head,
By blue-ey'd Rhadamanthus led,
Or with young Helicon you stray,
Where mad Parnassus points the way ;-


Goddess of Elizium's hill,

Descend upon my Paan's quill..
The light Nymph hears-no more
By Pegasus' meand'ring shore,
Ambrosia, playful boy,
Plumbs her jene scai quoi!-

I mount!-I mount!

I'm half a Lark-I'm half an Eagle!
Twelve stars I count

I see their dam-she is a Beagle!

Ye Royal little ones,

I love your flesh and bones

ou are an arch, rear'd with immortal stones!

Hibernia strikes his harp!

Shuttle, fly!-woof! web! warp!

Far, far, from me and you,

In latitude North 52

Rebellion's hush'd,

The merchant's flush'd ;


Hail, awful Brunswick, Saxe-Gotha, hail! I
Not George, but Louis, now shall turn his tail!

Thus, I a-far from mad debate,

Like an old wren,

With my good hen,

Or a young gander,

Am a by-stander,


To all the peacock pride, and vain regards of state!→→→→

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O FOR a Muse of Fire,

With blazing thumbs to touch my torpid lyre!
Now in the darksome regions round the Pole,
Tigers fierce, and Lions bold,

With wild affright would see the snow-bills roll,
Their sharp teeth chattering with the cold-

But that Lions dwell not there

Nor beast, nor Christian-none but the White Bear!
The White Bear howls amid the tempest's roar,
And list'ning Whales swim headlong from the shore!


Farewell awhile, ye summer breezes!
What is the life of man?

A span!

Sometimes it thaws, sometimes it freezes,
Just as it pleases!

If Heaven decrees, fierce whirlwinds rend the air,
And then again (behold!) 't is fair!

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