O why were farmers made so coarse,
Or clergy made so fine?

A kick that scarce would move a horse,
May kill a sound divine.

Then let the boobies stay at home;
"Twould cost him, I dare say,
Less trouble taking twice the sum,
Without the clowns that pay.

SONNET

ADDRESSED TO HENRY COWPER, ESQ.

On his emphatical and interesting Delivery of the Defence of Warren Hastings, Esq., in the House of Lords.

COWPER, whose silver voice, tasked sometimes hard, Legends prolix delivers in the ears

(Attentive when thou read'st) of England's peers, Let verse at length yield thee thy just reward. Thou wast not heard with drowsy disregard, Expending late on all that length of plea

Thy generous powers, but silence honoured thee, Mute as e'er gazed on orator or bard.

Thou art not voice alone, but hast beside

Both heart and head; and couldst with music sweet
Of Attic phrase and senatorial tone,

Like thy renowned forefathers, far and wide.
Thy fame diffuse, praised not for utterance meet
Of others' speech, but magic of thy own.

THE DOG AND THE WATER LILY.

NO FABLE.

THE noon was shady, and soft airs
Swept Ouse's silent tide,

When 'scaped from literary cares,
I wandered on his side.

My spaniel, prettiest of his race,
And high in pedigree,

(Two nymphs1 adorned with every graco
That spaniel found for me,)

Now wantoned lost in flags and reeds,
Now starting into sight,

Pursued the swallow o'er the meads,
With scarce a slower flight.

It was the time when Ouse displayed
His lilies newly blown;
Their beauties I intent surveyed,
And one I wished my own.

With cane extended far I sought
To steer it close to land;
But still the prize, though nearly caught,
Escaped my eager hand.

Beau marked my unsuccessful pains
With fixed considerate face,
And puzzling set his puppy brains
To comprehend the case.

But with a cherup clear and strong,
Dispersing all his dream,

I thence withdrew, and followed long
The windings of the stream.

My ramble ended, I returned;
Beau, trotting far before,

The floating wreath again discerned,
And plunging, left the shore.

I saw him, with that lily cropped,
Impatient swim to meet

My quick approach, and soon he dropped
The treasure at my feet.

Charmed with the sight, the world I cried,
Shall hear of this thy deed:

My dog shall mortify the pride
Of man's superior breed:

1 Sir Robert Gunning's daughters.

But chief myself I will enjoin,
Awake at duty's call,

To show a love as prompt as thine

To Him who gives me all.

MOTTO FOR A CLOCK.

QUE lenta accedit, quam velox præterit hora!
Ut capias, patiens esto, sed esto vigil!

Slow comes the hour; its passing speed how great!
Waiting to seize it-vigilantly wait!

THE birds put off their every hue,
To dress a room for Montagu.
The peacock sends his heavenly dyes,
His rainbows and his starry eyes;
The pheasant, plumes which round infold
His mantling neck with downy gold;
The cock, his arched tail's azure show;
And, river-blanched, the swan his snow.
All tribes beside of Indian name,
That glossy shine, or vivid flame,
Where rises and where sets the day,
Whate'er they boast of rich and gay,
Contribute to the gorgeous plan,
Proud to advance it all they can.
This plumage neither dashing shower,
Nor blasts that shake the dripping bower,
Shall drench again or discompose;

But, screened from every storm that blows,
It boasts a splendour ever new,
Safe with protecting Montagu.

To the same patroness resort,
Secure of favour at her court,

Strong Genius, from whose forge of thought
Forms rise, to quick perfection wrought,