ON THE RESTORATION OF THE

BOURBON FAMILY

To the Throne of France; an event which I hope, by the interposition of Divine Providence, will e're long take place.

WHEN Vice prevails, and impious men bear sway,

The strongest nation falls an easy prey

To Discord, Rapine, and a stream of ills,

Which flows impetuous from ten thousand rills:

Till Virtue, like the fiery orb of day,

When clouds have veil'd from sight his chearing ray,
When black'ning tempests have o'erhung the land,

And angry Jove has shook his thund'ring hand,
Bursts into view, and with a light serene

Dispels the horrors of the dreary scene;
Dispensing joy and peace to all around.

Herself with universal praises crown'd.

VERSES TO MRS. T***T,

Nearly allied to Venus, from her love-sick Relation Cupid.

THE winged messenger of love,

Follow'd by his billing dove,

This note has penn'd for one fair Dame,

Skill'd to raise or put out a flame.

From my enchanting Bower in the Wilderness at S******d, my Heart overflowing with Love, like the Sea at a Spring Tide.

Kind Guardian Angels hover o'er her head,

Whilst gently slumbring on her downy bed.

The God of Love writes in haste,

millions of visits to pay before morning :

as he has some

For as soon as dawns forth the break of day,

All Spirits like himself must flit away.

AS

AS your dear little Cupid with rapt'rous delight,
Is now winging his course on an amorous flight,

He has stop'd at a place call'd by him sweet S******đ,
And these lines to his fav'rite has gallantly penn'd;

To my Widow of thirty, of a hundred I mean,
For where's one in a hundred like her to be seen?
What widow in Britain with T***t can compare ?
And most women there are deem'd lovely and fair.
Whence some have imagin'd they plainly can see,
Old England the isle of Calypso must be,

As all our historians on this point agree;

That he who's in love, must be tied down as fast
As Ulysses so fam'd, when tied to a mast,
If from Britain's fair nymphs he wants to set sail,
Else beauty and love o'er his heart will prevail.
To describe my dear T***t surpasses all pow'r,
No, I've hit off her charms, she's a beautiful flow'r, -
Where balm, laylock, and lilly their fragrance combine,
With pink, jassamine, rose, and the sweet eglantine,
Whence all who behold her declare her divine.
Now tell me what Belle for a moment will dare,
With this sweetest of flow'rs herself to compare.
Openhearted and gay, yet free from all vice,
Tho' some think my Widow by no means too nice,

}

I'll

I'll match her in conduct with any starch dame,
Who thoughtlessly ventures her worth to defame.

For in beauty's fair steps oft stalks like a ghost,
Pale
envy and scandal their virtues to boast;
To darken that path spotless beauty has trod,
And raise themselves up, as a species of God;
Who crabbed and ugly, like most evil spirits,
Delight to substract from beauty's just merits.
But Wisdom clear-sighted soon finds out the fraud,
And quickly by her such old cats are outlaw'd;
Doom'd to pass all their lives in obscurity's shade,
O dire curse! each doom'd too, to die an old maid!
So cheer up sweet T***t, for when old maiden weed
Like nettles or thistles shall run up to seed,
Thy beauty shall seem as a rich swelling vine,
Whilst round thee in clusters thy fine babes entwine,
Then love, honor, esteem, with affection's fair train
Shall shew thou, like old maids, art not made in vain;
Shall strew thy life's path with each sweet smelling flow'r,
And prove thee protected by Love's magic pow'r.

CUPID.

The Wilderness, one o'clock in the morning, Sep. 24, 1804, to mortal reckoning; but no point of time to Spirits hke myself, who live for ever. As eternity has no end, time can have no division.

Mr. LOWNDES being at a Rout, where

a Widow was pointed out to him, apparently so young, she might have been taken for a girl of fifteen, wrote the following extempore Verses, in consequence of a Lady's expressing great surprise at Mrs. Wood, the name of the young Widow, looking so like a girl. It so happened that a Mr. Ash was standing near the Lady who expressed such great surprise, therefore Mr. L was tempted to pun upon the young Widow's name, particularly as he had an opportunity of making a jeu de mots, by the introduction of Mr. Ash.

Mr. L.-YOU shew surprise, so did I too,

At that young Widow, now in view;
But mine has ceas'd, and so your's should,
For you must know, that Widow's, Wood.

Mrs. H.-That Widow, Wood, it cannot be,
For I have seen her sipping tea,

Have heard her speak, am told she's witty,

And you may see she's very pretty.

How then can such a girl be Wood ?

No, this I'm sure, she's flesh and blood.