In vain recorded in hiftoric page, They court the notice of a future age, Those twinkling tiny luftres of the land, 1 Drop one by one from Fame's neglecting hand, REPORT Of an adjudged Cafe not to be found in any of the Books, I. 1 BETWEEN Nofe and Eyes a ftrange conteft arofe, The spectacles fet them unhappily wrong; The point in difpute was, as all the world knows, To which the faid fpectacles ought to belong, So II. So the tongue was the lawyer and argued the cause With a great deal of fkill, and a wig full of learning, While chief baron ear fat to balance the laws, So fam'd for his talent in nicely difcerning. III. In behalf of the Nofe, it will quickly appear, IV. Then holding the fpectacles up to the court Your lordship observes they are made with a straddle, As wide as the ridge of the Nofe is, in short, Defign'd to fit clofe to it, juft like a faddle. V. Again, would your lordship a moment, fuppofe ('Tis a cafe that has happen'd and may be again) That the vifage or countenance had not a Nose, Pray who wou'd or who cou'd wear fpectacles 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 fide as a lawyer knows how, But what were his arguments few people know, VIII. So his lordship decreed with a grave folemn tone, That whenever the Nofe put his fpectacles on On On the Burning of LORD MANSFIELD's Library, toge ther with his MSS. by the Mob, in the Month of June, 1780. 1. SO then the Vandals of our isle, Sworn foes to fenfe and law, Have burnt to duft a nobler pile Than ever Roman faw! II.. And MURRAY fighs o'er Pope and Swift, And many a treasure more, The well-judg'd purchase and the gift That grac'd his letter'd ftore. III. Their pages mangled, burnt and torn, The lofs was his alone, But ages yet to come fhall mourn The burning of his own. LORD MANSFIELD'S LIBRARY. 319 ON THE SAME. I. WHEN wit and genius meet their doom In all devouring flame, They tell us of the fate of Rome, And bid us fear the fame. II. O'er MURRAY's lofs the mufes wept, Yet blefs'd the guardian care that kept His facred head from harın. HI. There mem'ry like the bee that's fed From Flora's balmy store, The quinteffence of all he read Had treafur'd up before. IV. The lawless herd with fury blind Have done him cruel wrong, The flow'rs are gone-but ftill we find The honey on his tongue. |