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C ο Ν Τ Ε Ν Τ 5. Report of an adjudged Case not to be found in any of the Books
315 On the burning of Lord Mansfield's Library,
together with his MSS. by. the Mob, in
June 1780 On the same
319 The Love of the World reproved; or, Fiypocrisy detected
320 The Lily and the Rose
322 Idem Latine Redditum
324 The Nightingale and Glowworm Votum On a Goldfinch starved to Death in a Gage 329 Horace, Book the ad, Ode the 10th
332 A Refle&tion on the foregoing Od:
334 Translations from Vincent Bourn
335 The Shrubbery
344 The Winter Nosegay
346 Mutual Forbearance
347 To the Rev. Mr. Newton
351 Translation of Prior's Chloe and Euphelia 353 Boadicea
Si te fortè meie gravis uret sarcina chartæ
Hor. Lib. I. Epiß. 13.
U told me, I remember, glory built
"On felfish principles, is shame and guilt.
The deeds that men admire as half divine,
Stark naught, because corrupt in their design:
Strange doctrine this! that without scruple tears
The laurel that the very light'ning spares,
Brings down the warrior's trophy to the dust,
And eats into his bloody sword like ruft.
B. Igrant, that men continuing what they are,
Fierce, avaricious, proud, there must be war.
And never meant the rule should be applied
To him that fights with justice on his fide.
Let laurels, drench'd in pure Parnassian dews,
Reward his mem'ry, dear to ev'ry muse,
Who, with a courage of unshaken root,
In honour's field advancing his firm foot,
the line that justice draws,
And will prevail or perish in her cause.
Tis to the virtues of such men, man owes
His portion in the good that heav'n bestows,
And when recording history displays
Feats of renown, though wrought in antient days,
Tells of a few ftout hearts that fought and dy'd
Where duty plac'd them, at their country's fide,
The man that is not mov'd with what he reads,
That takes not fire at their heroic deeds,
Unworthy of the blessings of the brave,
Is base in kind, and born to be a slave.
But let eternal infamy pursue
The wretch to naught but his ambition true,
Who, for the sake of filling with one blast
The post horns of all Europe, lays her waste.
Think yourself station'd on a tow'ring rock,
To see a people scatter'd like a flock,
Some royal mastiff panting at their heels,
With all the favage thirst a tyger feels,
Then view him self-proclaim'd in a gazette,
Chief monster that has plagu'd the nations yet,
The globe and sceptre in such hands misplac'd,
Those ensigns of dominion, how disgrac'd !
The glass that bids man mark the fleeting hour,
And death's own scythe would better speak his pow'r,
Then grace the boney phantom in their stead
With the king's shoulder knot and
Cloath the twin brethren in each other's dress,
The same their occupation and success.
A. 'Tis your belief the world was made for man, Kings do but reason on the self fame plan, Maintaining your’s you cannot their's condemn, Who think, or feem to think, man made for them.
B. Seldom, alas! the power of logic reigns
With much sufficiency in royal brains.
Such reas'ning falls like an inverted cone,
Wanting its proper base to stand
Man made for kings ! those optics are but dim
That tell you so—say rather, they for him.
That were indeed a king-enobling thought,
Could they, or would they, reason as they ought.
The diadem with mighty projects lin'd,
To catch renown by ruining mankind,
Is worth, with all its gold and glitt'ring store,
Just what the toy will sell for and no more.
Oh! bright occasions of dispensing good, How feldom used, how little understood ! To pour in virtue's lap her just reward, Keep vice restrain'd behind a double guard,