On the burning of Lord Mansfield's Library toge

ther with his MSS. by the Mob, in June 1780

On the fame

The Love of the World reproved; or Hypocrify

detected

318

319

320

The Poet, the Oyster, and the Senfitive Plant

To the Rev. Mr. William Cawthorn Unwin

357

362

366

TABLE

You

On selfish principles, is fhame and guilt;

The deeds that men admire as half divine,
Stark naught, because corrupt in their defign.
Strange doctrine this! that without fcruple tears
The laurel that the very lightning fpares,

VOL. I.

B

Brings

Brings down the warrior's trophy to the duft,
And eats into his bloody fword like ruft.

B. I grant, that men continuing what they are,
Fierce, avaricious, proud, there must be war.

And never meant the rule fhould be applied
To him that fights with juftice on his fide.
Let laurels, drench'd in pure Parnaffian dews,
Reward his mem'ry, dear to ev'ry muse,
Who, with a courage of unfhaken root,
In honour's field advancing his firm foot,
Plants it upon the line that juftice draws,
And will prevail or perifh in her caufe.
'Tis to the virtues of fuch men, man owes

His portion in the good that heav'n bestows,
And when recording history displays

Feats of renown, though wrought in antient days,
Tells of a few stout hearts that fought and dy'd
Where duty plac'd them, at their country's fide;
The man that is not mov'd with what he reads,
That takes not fire at their heroic deeds,

Unworthy

Unworthy of the bleffings of the brave,

Is bafe in kind and born to be a flave.
But let eternal infamy pursue

The wretch to nought but his ambition true,
Who, for the fake of filling with one blast
The post-horns of all Europe, lays her waste.
Think yourself station'd on a tow'ring rock,
To fee a people scatter'd like a flock,
Some royal mastiff panting at their heels,
With all the favage thirst a tyger feels;
Then view him felf-proclaim'd in a gazette,
Chief monster that has plagu'd the nations yet;
The globe and fceptre in fuch hands misplac'd,
Those enfigns of dominion, how disgrac'd!
The glass that bids man mark the fleeting hour,
And death's own fcythe would better speak his pow'r ;
Then grace the boney phantom in their stead

With the king's fhoulder knot and gay cockade

Cloath the twin brethren in each other's drefs,

The fame their occupation and fuccefs.

4

TABLE TALK,

A. 'Tis your belief the world was made for man, Kings do but reafon on the self fame plan,

Maintaining your's you cannot their's condemn,

Who think, or feem to think, man made for them.
B. Seldom, alas! the power of logic reigns
With much fufficiency in royal brains.

Such reas'ning falls like an inverted cone,

Wanting its

proper

bafe to ftand upon.

Man made for kings! thofe optics are but dim

That tell you so-say rather, they for him.
That were indeed a king-ennobling thought,
Could they, or would they, reafon as they ought.
The diadem with mighty projects lin'd,
To catch renown by ruining mankind,

Is worth, with all its gold and glitt'ring ftore,
Juft what the toy will fell for and no more.

Oh! bright occafions of difpenfing good,
How feldom ufed, how little understood!
To pour in virtue's lap her just reward,
Keep vice restrain'd behind a double guard,

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