SON N. G.

« 'Twas when the feas were roaring, "TWAS when the land was roaring, With feuds of every kind,

Young Billy lay deploring,

On Sh-b-ne's breaft reclin'd.
Wide o'er the courtly manfions
He caft a wifhful look:

His head was full of penfions,

And posts in the Red Book.
How could they fay all prudence
And cunning must be vain,
While fuch a fecret influence

Does yet at Court remain?
No eye that influence reaches,

Which lurks in Jenky's mind;
To cheat th' unwary wretches,

Who think their Mafter kind.
Nine months ago my Earl-y

The Seals to Court did bring,
How could't thou, vent'rous Charley,
How could't thou truft the

Ceafe, ceafe, thou cruel Jenky,
To be my foe profefs'd;

Ah! what's thy meannefs, think ye,
To that within my breast?

Should G-ge that coast be bent on,

Where gold and diamonds grow

If F-x the job was fent on.

He would not ferve him so.

All melancholy lying,

Thus wail'd young P-t the great

His bofom ach'd with fighing,

His pulfe in tumult beat,

When from behind the curtain,

Pale Jenky's form appears;

And cry'd, thy rife is certain,
By me, up the Back Stairs.

457

PANE

PANEGYRICAL EPIGRAMS

Upon Sir CECIL WRAY's candid Account of Mr. Fox's ill Reception from his Electors.
IF Fox was ill heard the more is the pity!
But tell me when this happen'd pray?

Why, when he propofed to Westminster city,
That they should chufe Sir Cecil Wray*.

ANOTHER, on the fame, by the Electors of Westminster.
TO Fox, Sir Cecil fays, fmall praise is due,
By G-d, Sir Cecil, what you lay is true;
-For 'tis to him that we're oblig'd for you.
ANOTHER, on the fame.

GOOD Lord, how kind you are to me,

Quoth Cecil to the firm and free,

At the Alehouse Committee they held in December;
A grateful heart is all I boast,

I beg a bumper to my toast,

Confufion to him who made me your Member?

ANOTHER.

WHEN fimple Fox, in an unwary hour,

Made Wray his colleague, all confefs'd he blunder'd;
Yet bear no malice, Fox! but when in power,

Nobly promote him to the Chiltern Hundred.

ANOTHER.

THAT Fox is an impoftor, thus,

Sir Cecil, you may prove is true,
He grofsly has impos'd on us,
By having spoken well of you.

ANOTHER.

You fain would make the world conjecture,
That Fox afpires to be Protector;

But here the world will doubt ye;

O! were it but as little true,

That he had e'er protected you!

We now had been without ye.

ANOTHER.

IF Fox was voted to the chair,

It was because his friends were there;

As foon as ever they were gone,

Sir Cecil had it ten to one.

'Tis true that Fox's friends were ftrongest,

But then Sir Cecil's ftaid the longest;

From whence it doth most clearly follow,

That he (Sir Cecil) had it bellow.

When Mr. Fox propofed Sir Cecil Wray in the Court of Requests for his colleague, against the opinion of Mr. Churchill, Dr. Jebb, Mr. Hallis, and others, (new acting with the Court) there was great disapprobation hown by the Meeting.

ANOTHER,

ANOTHER, on Sir Cecil Wray's faying, that Mr. Fox ran away,

SIR Cecil's boaft all law of nature mocks,
Who will believe, a Goose could drive a Fox ?

ANOTHER.

WE Courtiers have the Blackguards now!
Exclaim the Ministers with pride.

I fee no proof of it, I vow

Except the Writers on their fide.

ANOTHER, occafioned by fome late Refolutions refpecting Parliamentary Reforme

"WHAT diseases (cries Jebb) in the Commons prevail?
"They're the vitals of England; and if they should fail,
"Let the foul Prima Vita be fcour'd; circulation
"Will then go on to the health of the nation."
But, if we may judge from fome late refolutions,
As you treat your poor patients of bad conftitutions,
When you vomit and bleed, bolus, potion, and pill 'em,
Undertaking to cure 'em, dear Doctor, you'll kill 'em.

Our rights and laws great Chatham made
The first of public cares;

No Secret Influence he obey'd,

He mounted no Back Stairs.

No arts could win him to conspire
The Commons to deftroy;

O! had the spirit of the Sire
Defcended to the Boy!

Nor let his virtues lull to fleep
Sufpicion, 'till the time

When flaves, the dire mistake you weep

That thought his youth no crime.

Ye Britons, rouze, at Freedom's call

Your delegates defend,

Nor filent fee the people fall
With Fox, the people's friend
3 N 2

The

The fhackles of Prerogative
In Freedom's caufe defy,
Rather than bear like dogs to live,
Like LIONS let us die.

The LAY VICAR; or, BILLY'S CREED.

IN good old George's golden days,
When Liberty no harm meant,

A furious Whig my father was,
And fo he gain'd preferment;

Unto the world he daily told,

That Freedom was our Charter,
The name of PITT fhould ne'er be fold,
He fwore, our rights to barter.

CHORUS..

This was the law he did maintain
Unto his dying day, Sir,
But little knew he of his fon,

When all this he did fay Sir.

'Tis true at firft 'gainst Bute I talk'd,
And fwore he'd make us low lie;
In Fox's footfteps then I walk'd,

But found he walk'd too flowly.

I foon perceiv'd a fhorter road,
To place which he defpifed,
And up the Back Stairs nimbly trod,
By J-
-n advised.

CHORUS.

And this is law I will declare.

Unto my dying day, Sir,
Of all the roads a good Back Stair,
To place, is the best way, Sir.
When Rockingham did rule the roaft,
Our Country's pride and glory,
A Whiggish Creed I then did boaft,
And scorn'd the name of Troy.
-D-s a tool of Pow'r I call'd,
And T the King's flave, Sir;
At Secret Influence I bawl'd,

A Whig moft big and brave, Sir.
CHORUS.

This was the law I then maintain'd,
And thus I oft would pray, Sir.
From fuch bad men, kind heav'n defend
My country, night and day, Sir.

But

But now the times are alter'd quite,
So human matters change will,
For T--w now is WASHED WHITE,
And Jn's an Angel.

No miracle in this you'll find,

When once the caufe is known, Sir;
-A heav'nly light came o'er my mind,
From a dark lantern thrown, Sir.
CHORU S.

And this is law, I e'er will fing,
Unto my dying day, Sir,

A lantern is a useful thing,

To Court to light the way, Sir.

Next Shelburne now came into place,
And treachery was fashion;

But even him I did furpaís,

In neat diffimulation.

All principles I found would fit
Full well my difpofitiou;

So I became a Jelnits...

To beat the Coalition,

CHORUS.

And this is law I will maintain
Unto my dying day, Sir;
It matters not what is the plan,

By which in place you ftay, Sir.
Yet, fpite of all that we could do,
The Whigs again fucceeded;
And I with them had joined too,

As change I never heeded.
But T-whifper'd in my ear,

What did my choice determine.;
And Rn did ftoutly fwear,
< He'd anfwer for the vermin.
CHORUS. !

And this is law, I ever fhall
Declare to dying day, Sir;
A Rat's an ufeful animal,

To nibble rights away, Sir.

And now once more the day's our own,
And we're more fafe than ever;

A league we've formed with the Crown,
Which Whigs can ne'er diffever.
The Commons being now no more,
No caufe is left of plague, Sir,
And if the Fox fhould tire us fore,
For him we've got a BAG, Sir.

CHORUS.

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