II. Yon roaring boys, who rave and fight I always held them in the right, When lawless mobs insult the court, IV. But oh! for him my fancy culls Who constitutionally pulls Your house about your ears. V. Such civil broils are my delight, Though some folks can't endure them, the mob are mad outright, And that a rope must cure them. Who say VI. A rope! I wish we patriots had Such strings for all who need 'emWhat! hang a man for going mad? Then farewell British freedom. ON OBSERVING SOME NAMES OF LITTLE NOTE RECORDED IN THE BIOGRAPHIA BRITANNICA. OH, fond attempt to give a deathless lot So when a child, as playful children use, REPORT OF AN ADJUDGED CASE NOT TO BE FOUND IN ANY OF THE BOOKS. I. BETWEEN Nose and Eyes a strange contest arose, II. So Tongue was the lawyer, and argued the cause With a great deal of skill, and a wig full of learning; While chief baron Ear sat to balance the laws, III. In behalf of the Nose it will quickly appear, And your lordship, he said, will undoubtedly find That the Nose has had spectacles always in wear, Which amounts to possession time out of mind. IV. Then holding the spectacles up to the courtYour lordship observes they are made with a straddle, As wide as the ridge of the Nose is; in short, Designed to sit close to it, just like a saddle. Again, would your lordship a, moment suppose ('Tis a case that has happened, and may be again) That the visage or countenance had not a Nose. Pray who would, or who could, wear spectacles then? VI. On the whole it appears, and my argument shows, With a reasoning, the court will never condemn, That the spectacles plainly were made for the Nose, And the Nose was as plainly intended for them. VII Then shifting his side, (as a lawyer knows how) VIII. So his lordship decreed with a grave solemn tone, Decisive and clear, without one if or but→ That, whenever the Nose put his spectacles on, By day-light or candle-light-Eyes should be sbut! ON THE BURNING OF LORD MANSFIELD'S LIBRARY, TOGETHER WITH HIS MSS. BY THE MOB, IN THE MONTH OF JUNE, 1780. I. So then the Vandals of our isle, Than ever Roman saw! II. And MURRAY sighs over Pope and Swift, The well-judged purchase and the gift, That graced his lettered store. III. Their pages mangled, burnt, and torn, The loss was his alone; But ages yet to come shall mourn The burning of his own. |