III. When lawless mobs insult the court, That man shall be my toaft, If breaking windows be the sport, IV. But oh! for him my fancy culls The choiceft flow'rs she bears, Who conftitutionally pulls Your house about your ears. V. Such civil broils are my delight; Tho' fome folks can't endure 'em, Who fay the mob are mad outright, And that a rope must cure 'em. VI. A rope! I wish we patriots had Such strings for all who need 'em What! hang a man for going mad? Then farewell British freedom. ON OBSERVING SOME NAMES OF LITTLE NOTE RECORDED IN THE BIOGRAPHIA BRITANNICA. Он, fond attempt to give a deathless lot 7 REPORT OF AN ADJUDGED CASE, NOT TO BE FOUND IN ANY OF THE BOOKS. I. BETWEEN Nose and Eyes a strange contest arose- II. So Tongue was the lawyer, and argued the cause With a great deal of skill, and a wig full of learn ing; While chief baron Ear set to balance the laws, So fam'd for his talent in nicely difcerning. III. In behalf of the Nose, it will quickly appear, And your lordship, he said, will undoubtedly find, That the Nose has had spectacles always in wear, Which amounts to possession time out of mind. IV. Then holding the spectacles up to the court Your lordship observes they are made with a As wide as the ridge of the Nose is; in short, V. Again, would your lordship a moment suppose ('Tis a cafe that has happen'd, and may be again) That the visage or countenance had not a nose! Pray who wou'd, or who cou'd, wear spectacles then? VI. 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 Nofe, And the Nose was as plainly intended for them. VII. Then, shifting his fide, (as a lawyer knows how) VIII. So his lordship decreed, with a grave folemn 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 LORD MANSFIELD'S LIBRARY. 275 ON THE BURNING OF LORD MANSFIELD'S LIBRARY, TOGETHER WITH HIS MSS. BY THE MOB, IN THE MONTH OF JUNE 1780. I. So then the Vandals of our ifle, Sworn foes to sense and law, Have burnt to dust a nobler pile II. And MURRAY sighs o'er Pope and Swift, And many a treasure more, The well-judg'd purchase and the gift That grac'd his letter'd store. III. Their pages mangled, burnt, and torn, The lofs was his alone; But ages yet to come shall mourn The burning of his own. |