Her mourning is all make-believe;
'Tis plain there's nothing in it;
With weepers she has tipp'd her sleeve,
The while she's laughing in it.
IMPROMPTU, BY LORD ERSKINE TO LADY PAYNE,
ON BEING TAKEN ILL AT HER HOUSE.
'Tis true I am ill, but I need not complain;
For he never knew pleasure who never knew Payne.
TO C.J. FOX, ON HIS MARRIAGE.
God's noblest work's an honest man,
Says Pope's instructive line;
To make an honest woman, then,
Most surely is divine.
TO JOSEPH HUME, ON HIS ORATORY.
You move the people, when you speak,
For one by one, away they sneak.
COWPER'S HOMER.
Any-mad-versions when like this I see,
Animadversions they will draw from me.