| TO A HYPOCRITICAL CALVINIST. |
|
By faith alone, you say, not works,
Man must obtain salvation;—
If you are saved, the doctrine needs
No better confirmation.
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| —————— |
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My Lady Sceptical, for want of proof,
What all believe, denies;
Yet she believes what all, with proof, deny,
That she is wondrous wise.
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| —————— |
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'The dullest ass may write
In verse, that jingling stuff!'
Indeed, Sir? have you tried?
'I have.' That's proof enough.
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| —————— |
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Yon fop has strangely got it in his noddle
That he excels in tragic declamation;
Kemble's the favourite, and the model,
That claims his praise, and prompts his imitation;
Now, that the praise is just, none can deny;
But the imitation gives that praise the lie:
Decide, ye Critics! for 'tis hard to know,—
Is he to Kemble's fame a friend or foe?
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| TO JULIA. |
|
Mark! how the Rose, when Phœbus burns,
Averts her blushing face;
Mark! how the Sun-flower fondly turns
To meet his warm embrace:
Like the coy rose, when woo'd by others, be,
Like the fond sun-flower, Love, when woo'd by me.
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| —————— |
|
The Chancellor keeps the conscience of the King.
This seems, at first, a strange, mysterious thing;
But there's a deep-laid policy in it;
For, did the Chancellor not—that conscience keep,
It might, perchance, be doom'd on thorns to sit;
Seated on wool, it may securely sleep.
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| —————— |
|
Papist and Protestant can ne'er agree.
"Pat!"—cries an Englishman—"'tis clear to me,
More grateful for the union you should be;
Think what an honour is to Ireland done:
Zounds! John Bull wed a whore of Babylon!"
"Murther!"—cries Pat—"he wedded her by force,
And, by my shoul, she longs for a divorce."
|
ON THE NEW EXPERIMENT OF LIGHTING THE HOUSE
OF COMMONS BY MEANS OF GAS-PIPES PLACED
BETWEEN THE TWO CEILINGS. |
|
Too long within the House has darkness dwelt,
Egyptian darkness, by the nation felt;
Therefore, though demagogues, whose deeds are ill,
For blind debate might love that darkness still,
'Tis well the new experiment to try:
A stronger, purer light—none can deny—
Will then illume the House—light coming from on high.
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| —————— |
|
'Not one of all my actors, rot 'em!'
Cried Hal,—'can play the part of Bottom.'
"Play it yourself;"—retorted Ned,—
"You'll look quite natural with an ass's head."
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| ON SEEING MR. NUTES, |
A SENSELESS, UNFEELING FELLOW, WEEP AT THE
REPRESENTATION OF KING LEAR. |
|
Henceforth at miracles who'll dare to mock?
No wonder Orpheus' lyre could move the brutes,
Or Moses' rod strike water from the rock;
Lo! Shakspeare's genius melts the heart of Nutes,
Draws tears of pity from a barber's block!
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| —————— |
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A quack, a mere anatomy,
Wanting to buy a nag,
Questions his friend, a wag,
What colour it shall be:—
'White,' he replies, 'let it be white, of course,
For then you'll look like Death on the pale horse.'
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