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Thus peace and war on earth alternate reign:
Auspicious GEORGE, thy powerful word
Gives peace to France and Spain,

And sheaths the martial sword!

STROPHE II. (By Brother CHARLES.)

And now gay Hope, her anchor dropping, And blue-ey'd Peace, and black-ey'd Pleasures, And Plenty in light cadence hopping, Fain would dance to WHITEHEAD's measures. But WHITEHEAD now in death reposes, Crown'd with laurel! crown'd with roses! Yet we, with laurel crown'd, his dirge will sing, And thus deserve fresh laurels from the KING,

NUMBER III,

ODE,

By SIR JOSEPH MAWBEY, BART.

STROPHE.

HARKto yon heavenly skies, Nature's congenial perfumes upwards rise! From each throng'd sty

That saw my gladsome eye,

Incense, quite smoking hot, arose,
And caught my seven sweet senses by the nose!

AIR-accompanied by the LEARNED PIG.

Tell me, dear Muse, O! tell me, pray,
Why JOEY's fancy frisks so gay;
Is it!you slut, it is-some holy-holiday!

[Here Muse whispers I-Sir Joseph:]

Indeed!-Repeat the fragrant sound!

Push love and loyalty around,

Through Irish, Scotch, as well as British ground!

CHORUS.

For this BIG MORN

GREAT GEORGE was born!

The tidings all the Poles shall ring!
Due homage will I pay,

On this, thy native day,

GEORGE, by the grace of God, my rightful KING!

AIR with Lutes.

Well might my dear lady say,
As lamb-like by her side I lay,

This

very,
7, very morn;
Hark! JOEY, hark!

I hear the lark,

Or else it is the sweet Sowgelder's horn!

ANTISTROPHE.

Forth from their sties the bristly victims lead;
A score of HoGs, flat on their backs, shall bleed.
Mind they be such on which good Gods might feast!
And that

In lily fat

They cut six inches on the ribs, at least!

DUET-with Marrow-bones and Cleavers.

Butcher and Cook, begin!

We'll have a royal greasy chin!

Tid-bits so nice and rare

Prepare! prepare!

Let none abstain,

Refrain!

I'll give 'em pork in plenty-cut, and come again!

RECITATIVE.

Hog! Porker! Roaster! Boar-stag! Barbicue!
Cheeks! Chines! Crow! Chitterlings! and Harselet new!
Springs! Spare-ribs! Sausages! Sous'd-lugs! and Face!
With piping-hot Pease-pudding-plenteous place!

Hands! Hocks! Hams! Haggis, with high seas'ning

fill'd!

Gammons! Green Griskins! on gridirons grill'd!

T S

Liver and Lights! from Plucks that moment drawn,

Pigs' Puddings! Black and White! with Canterbury

Brawn!

TRIO.

Fall to,

Ye Royal crew!

Eat! eat your bellies full! pray do!

At treats I never winces

The Queen shall say,

Once in a way,

Her maids have been well cramm'd her young ones diu'd like Princes!

FULL CHORUS accompanied by the whole HOGGERY.

For this BIG MORN

GREAT GEORGE was born!

The tidings all the Poles shall ring!
Due homage will I pay,

On this, thy native day,

GEORGE! by the grace of God, my rightful KING!!!!

NUMBER IV:

ODE,

By SIR RICHARD HILL, BART.

HAIL pious Muse of saintly love,
Unmix'd, unstain'd with earthly dross!
Hail Muse of Methodism, above
The Royal Mews at Charing Cross!
Behold, both hands 1 raise;
Behold, both knees I bend;

Behold, both eyeballs gaze!

Quick, Muse, descend, descend!

Meek Muse of Madan, thee my soul invokesO point my pious puns! O sanctify my jokes!

II.

Descend, and, O! in mem'ry keep

There's a time to wake a time to sleep→→→
A time to laugh a time to cry!

The Bible says soso do I!

Then broad awake, O come to me! W
And thou my Eastern star shalt be !>

14

III.

MILLER, bard of deathless name,

MOSES, wag of merry fame;

Holy, holy, holy pair,

Hearken to your vot'ry's pray'r!

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