EXTEMPORE, ON READING A CERTAIN IMPER

TINENT ADDRESS IN THE NEWSPAPERS.

BY GARRICK, THOMSON, &c.

THOU effence of dock, of valerian, and fage,
At once the difgrace and the pest of this age,
The worst that we wish thee, for all thy bad crimes,
Is to take thy own Phyfic, and read thy own Rhymes.

ANSWER TO THE JUNTO.

THEIR with must be in form revers'd,

To fuit the Doctor's crimes;

For if he takes his Phyfic firft,

He'll never read his Rhymes *.

fmiled.

At fallies like thefe Dr. Hill himfelf might have Wit lefs inoffenfive fhould not have had a place in my volumes.

EPIGRAMS.

BY THE LATE EARL NUGENT.

EPIGRAM I.

I LOV'D thee beautiful and kind,
And plighted an eternal vow;
So alter'd are thy face and mind,

"Twere perjury to love thee now.

EPIGRAM II.

SINCE firft

you knew

my am'rous smart,

Each day augments your proud difdain; 'Twas then enough to break my heart,

And, now, thank heav'n! to break my Cease, thou scorner, cease to shun me!

Now let love and hatred cease! Half that rigour had undone me,

All that rigour gives me peace.

chain.

EPIGRAM III.

MY heart still hovering round about you,
I thought I could not live without you;
Now we have liv'd three months afunder,
How I liv'd with you is the wonder.

EPIGRAM IV.

UPON THE BUSTS OF ENGLISH WORTHIES AT STOW.

AMONG these chiefs of British race,

Who live in breathing ftone,

Why has not Cobham's bust a place?

The ftructure was his own.

EPIGRAM V.

THO' cheerful, difcreet, and, with freedom, well bred,

She never repented an idle word said:

Securely the fmiles on the forward and bold,

They feel what they owe her, and feel it untold.

VOL. I.

EPIGRAM VI.

LIE on! while my revenge fhall be
To speak the very truth of thee.

EPIGRAM VII.

I SWORE I lov'd, and you believ'd,
Yet, trust me, we were both deceiv'd,
Though all I fwore was true,
I lov'd one gen'rous, good, and kind,
A form created in my mind,
And thought that form was you.

EPIGRAM VIII.

ON MRS. PENELOPE.

THE gentle Pen, with look demure,
Awhile was thought a virgin pure ;
But Pen, as ancient poets say,

Undid by night the works of day.

M

EPIGRAM IX.

ON ONE WHO FIRST ABUSED, AND THEN MADE LOVE TO A LADY.

FOUL ***, with graceless verse,
The noble** dar'd asperse.

But when he faw her well befpatter'd,

Her reputation stain'd and tatter'd,

He gaz'd and lov'd the hideous elf,

She look'd fo very like himself.

True fung the bard well known to fame,

Self-love and focial are the fame.

EPIGRAM X.

WHILST Lucy, chafte as mountain fnows,

Gives ev'ry idle fop a hearing;

In Lucy's breaft a paffion glows,

Which stronger is for not appearing.

Say, who has chofe the better part,
Mary, to whom no joy is miffing;
Or fhe, who, dupe to her own heart,

Pays the full price of Mary's kiffing?