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A rope! I wish we patriots had
Such strings for all who need 'em
Then farewell British freedom.
So when a child, as playful children use,
OF THE BOOKS.
The spectacles set them unhappily wrong;
To which the said spectacles ought to belong.
So Tongue was the lawyer, and argued the cause
With a great deal of skill, and a wig full of learning; Wbile chief baron Ear sat to balance the laws,
So famed for his talent in nicely discerning. In behalf of the Nose it will quickly appear,
And your lordship, he said, will andoubtedly find That the Nose has had spectacles always in wear,
Which amounts to possession time out of mind. Then holding the spectacles up to the court
Your lordship observes they are made with a straddle As wide as the ridge of the Nose is ; in short,
Designed to sit close to it, just like a saddle. Again, would your lordship a moment suppose
('Tis a case that has happened, and may be again) That the visage or countenance had not a Nose,
Pray, who would, or who could, wear spectacles then? 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.
He pleaded again in behalf of the Eyes:
For the court did not think they were equally wise. So his lordship decreed with a grave solemn tone,
Decisive and clear, without one if or butThat, whenever the nose put his spectacles on,
By day-light or candle-light-Eyes should be shut !
BURNING OF LORD MANSFIELD'S LIBRARY,
TOGETHER WITH HIS MSS.
By the Mob, in the Month of June, 1780.
Sworn foes to sense and law,
Than ever Roman saw!
And many a treasure more,
That graced his lettered store.
The loss was his alone ;
The burning of his own.
ON THE SAME.
In all-devouring flame,
And bid us fear the same.
They felt the rude alarm,
His sacred head from harm.
From Flora's balmy store,
Had treasured up before.
180 LOVE OF THE WORLD REPROVED.
The lawless herd, with fury blind,
Have done bim cruel wrong;
The honey on his tongue.
Thus says the prophet of the Turk,
You laugh—'tis well—The tale applied
ON THE DEATH OF A BULFINCH.
MRS. (NOW LADY) THROCKMORTON'S BULFINCH,
Ye nymphs! if e'er your eyes were red
O share Maria's grief!
Assassined by a thief.
And though by nature mute,
Of flagelet or flute.