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For then the farmers come jog, jog,
Along the miry road,
To make their payments good.
In footh, the sorrow of such days
Is not to be expressed, When he that takes and he that pays
Are both alike diftreffed.
Now all, unwelcome, at his gates
The clumsy Twains alight, With rueful faces and bald pates
He trembles at the light.
And well he may, for well he knows
Each bumpkin of the clan, Instead of paying what he owes,
Will cheat him if he can.
So in they come-each makes his leg,
And flings his head before, And looks as if he came to beg,
And not to quit a score.
And how does miss and madam do,
The little boy and all ?' • All tight and well. And how do you,
• Good Mr. What-d'ye-call?'
The dinner comes, and down they fit:
Were ever such hungry folk? There's litele talking, and no wit ;
It is no time to joke.
One wipeshis nose upon his fleeve,
One spits upon the floor,
Holds up the cloth before.
The punch goes round, and they are dull
And lumpish still as ever ;
They only weigh the heavier,
At length the busy time begins.
• Come, neighbours, we must wagThe money chinks, down drop their chins,
Each lugging out his bag.
One talks of mildew and of frost,
And one of storms of hail, And one of pigs, that he has loft
By maggots at the tail.
" A rarer man than you ' In pulpit none shall hear: < But yet, methinks, to tell you true,
" You sell it plaguy dear.'
Oh, why are farmers made fo coarse,
Or clergy made so fine! A kick, that scarce would move a horse,
May kill a found divine.
Then let the boobies stay at home;
- Twould cost him, I dare say, Lefs trouble taking twice the fum,
Without the clowns that pay.
S Ο Ν Ν Ε Τ
HENRY COWPER, Esq.
On his emphatical and interesting Delivery of the Defence of
Warren Hastings, Esq. in the House of Lords.
Cowper, whose filver voice, tasked sometimes hard,
Legends prolix delivers in the ears (Attentive when thou reades) of England's peers,'
Let verse at length yield thee thy just reward.
Expending late on all that length of plea
Mute as ever gazed on Orator or Bard.
Both heart and head; and couldft with music sweet
Of Attic phrase and senatorial tone,
Thy fame diffuse, praised not for utterance meet
Lines addressed to
THE BOTANIC GARDEN."
Two Poets, * (poets, by report,
Not oft so well agree)
Conspire to honour Thee.
They best can judge a poet's worth,
Who oft themselves liave known The pangs of a poetic birth
By labours of their own.
We therefore pleased extol thy song,
Though various yet complete, Rich in embellishment as strong,
And learned as it is sweet.
No envy mingles with our praise,
Though, could our hearts repine
* Alluding to the poem by Mr. Hayley, which accompanied these lines.