HUMAN FRAILTY.

Weak and irresolute is man ;

The purpose of to-day, Woven with pains into his plan,

To-morrow rends away.
The bow well bent, and smart the spring,

Vice seems already slain;
But Passion rudely snaps the string,

And it revives again.

Some foe to his upright intent

Finds out his weaker part; Virtue engages his assent,

But Pleasure wins his heart.

'Tis here the folly of the wise

Through all his art we view; And, while his tongue the charge denies,

His conscience owns it true.

Bound on a voyage of awful length

And dangers little known,
A stranger to superior strength,

Man vainly trusts his own.
But oars alone can ne'er prevail

To reach the distant coast; The breath of Heaven must swell the sail,

Or all the toil is lost.

THE MODERN PATRIOT.

REBELLION is my theme all day;

I only wish 'twould come (As who knows but perhaps it may ?)

A little nearer home.

Yon roaring boys, who rave and fight

On t'other side the Atlantic,
I always held them in the right,

But most so when most frantic.

When lawless mobs insult the court,

That man shall be my toast,
If breaking windows be the sport,

Who bravely breaks the most.
But O! for him my fancy culls

The choicest flowers she bears, Who constitutionally pulls

Your house about your ears.

Such civil broils are my delight,

Though some folks can't endure them, Who say the mob are mad outright,

And that a rope must cure them.

A rope ! I wish we patriots had

Such strings for all who need 'em What! hang a man for going mad !

Then farewell British freedom..

ON THE

BURNING OF LORD MANSFIELD'S LIBRARY,

TOGETHER WITH HIS MSS. BY THE MOB, IN THE MONTH OF

JUNE, 1780.

So then—the Vandals of our isle,

Sworn foes to sense and law,
Have burnt to dust a nobler pile

Than ever Roman saw!

And Murray sighs o'er Pope and Swift,

And many a treasure more,
The well-judged purchase, and the gift

That graced his letter'd store.

Their pages mangled, burnt, and torn,

The loss was his alone;
But ages yet to come shall mourn

The burning of his own.

ON THE SAME.

When wit and genius meet their doom

In all devouring flame,
They tell us of the fate of Rome, ...,!

And bid us fear the same. L'..

O'er Murray's loss the muses wept,

They felt the rude alarm,
Yet bless'd the guardian care that kept

His sacred head from harm.

There Memory, like the bee that's fed

From Flora's balmy store, The quintessence of all he read

Had treasured up before.

The lawless herd, with fury blind,

Have done him cruel wrong ;
The flowers are gone—but still we find

The honey on his tongue.

THE LOVE OF THE WORLD REPROVED;

OR, HYPOCRISY DETECTED.*

Thus says the prophet of the Turk,
Good Mussulman, abstain from pork ;
There is a part in every swine
No friend or follower of mine

May taste, whate'er his inclination,
On pain of excommunication.
Such Mahomet's mysterious charge,
And thus he left the point at large.
Had he the sinful part express’d,
They might with safety eat the rest ;
But for one piece they thought it hard
From the whole hog to be debarr'd ;
And set their wit at work to find
What joint the prophet had in mind.
Much controversy straight arose,

These choose the back, the belly those ;
By some 'tis confidently said
He meant not to forbid the head;
While others at that doctrine rail,
And piously prefer the tail.
Thus, conscience freed from every clog,
Mahometans eat up the hog.

You laugh—'tis well--the tale applied May make you laugh on t'other side. Renounce the world—the preacher cries. We do a multitude replies. While one as innocent regards A snug and friendly game at cards ; And one, whatever you may say, Can see no evil in a play ; Some love a concert, or a race ; And others shooting, and the chase. Reviled and loved, renounced and follow'd, Thus, bit by bit, the world is swallow'd ;