IMITATION OF MARTIAL.

EXALTED, Smart, on fashion's tip,
The pink of petit-maitreship,

Dear fellow, some compassion shew,
And teach me how to be a beau.
"Hog! have your hair dress'd thrice a-day,
"Keep a perfumer's shop in pay:

"Quote scraps of French in nasal drawl,
"Now fold your awkward arms, now sprawl:

"Die for each draggle-tail you see,

"Haunt them at church, at park, at tea;
"And, whispering to the fair, for ever
"Grin, as if what you said was clever.
"Want time, to scribble and peruse
"Rhymes, messages, and billet-doux :
"Shrink like a snail, lest Sir John Brute
"Soil with his wig your velvet suit :
"In the town's lewd intrigues be deep,
"Know who keep girls, and whom girls keep
"Ply at each Faro Coterie,

"And smatter race-horse pedigree."
-The devil! Smart! if this be so,

"Tis an egregious thing, a Beau!

VOL. VIII.

N. B. HALHED, ESQ.

D D

THE CUCKOO, THE NIGHTINGALE, AND THE ASS.

A FABLE.

SOME time ago, (like Christian folk,
When birds and beasts good English spoke
What year it was no need to mention,
Arose a very warm contention,
Not without many a boastful word,
'Twixt Philomel and Cuckoo bird,
In musick's art who most excell'd,
While high with pride their bosoms swell'd.
Long time our disputants held out,
Each in his own opinion stout;
Till of the sport, at length, half-tir'd,
A parley is by both desir'd;
On which it is determined, since
Neither the other can convince,
Dispute is vain; so, to a third
The matter be at once referr'd,
Who, weighing it with due precision,
Both must abide by his decision.

It chanc'd, hard by, a milkman's Ass
Enjoy'd in peace his bit of grass.
No cares disturb'd his vacant mind;
In thankful silence Donkey din'd.
On him, with one consenting voice,
The rival songsters fix their choice,
And, without farther hesitation,
Both parties pray his arbitration.

Music for him few charms possessed,
His ear had discord ne'er distressed;
From which, 'tis clear, this simple beast
Was never at my Lord Mayor's feast.
"Really, signor," quoth he, and bow'd,
"This honour makes me vastly proud;"
"But, with your leave, as I'm a sinner,
"Just now I'd rather eat my dinner.
"Besides, good Lord! none so unfit
As I could here in judgment sit,
"Who, would you think it, on my life,
"Scarce know a fiddle from a fife."
Now, both with eagerness reply,
"These are, dear Sir, but vain excuses ;
"This small request you can't deny ;
"You must not, shall not, Sir, refuse us,
"That you're a judge too well appears,
"Since all your family have ears.
"We could, I'm certain, mention twenty,
“And each a noted cognoscenti."
When ev'ry other method fails,
A spice of flattery oft prevails.
By this emollient pleading won,

"Well then, for once," cries Mister John-
"But pray dispatch, for if you don't,

"I really cannot stay, I won't."

The Cuckoo said, "My dearest friend,

"I only beg that you'll attend.

"Observe this note, how full and clear!
"Hark, how it strikes the ravish'd ear!
"To such distinct articulation,

"You can't deny your admiration;
"And, sure, so regular a pause
"The truest harmony must cause."

With this exordium satisfied,
After a clearing hem or two,
With crest elate, "Cuckoo !" he cried,
Repeating still," Cuckoo! Cuckoo !"
With many a rapturous observation,
In some such modish exclamation,
"Bravo! benissimo! how fine!
"That last was perfectly divine!
"Enough," cries Donkey, " this will do,
"Ma'am, if you please, I'll now hear you."
Waving all preface and palaver,
To gain the long-ear'd judge's favour,
Now Eve's sweet songstress, from the spray,
Began her softly-plaintive lay.

Enraptured with the thrilling sound,
The grazing herds all throng around;
While neighbouring birds in flocks appear,
And even two magpies stop to hear.
The modest bird pursues her song,
With tones so various, clear, and strong,
And still so artfully inflected,
And all her flights so unexpected,
That, had she piped a little longer,
The beast might have forgot his hunger;
But, happening to cast his eye on
A luscious branch of dandelion,
He rudely interrupts the strain,
Braying with all his might and main,
And briefly thus decides the case,
With wond'rous sapiency of face-
"You, madam, have amused us well,
"But you, in method, Sir, excel."

B. T.

PROLOGUE,

Spoken by Mr. Murray, on the Night of Mrs. Abington's Return to the Stage, October 6, 1797, after she had been absent from it six Years.

BY GEORGE COLMAN, THE YOUNGER, ESQ.

WHENE'ER the mind assumes a pensive cast,
And Memory sits musing on the past;
When Melancholy counts each friend gone by,
True as Religion strings her rosary,

The eye grows moist for many in silence laid,
And drops that bead which Nature's self has made.
To friends alone, then, is the tear-drop due ?
Oh, no! to public virtue-genius too:
Fondly we dwell on merit Death has cross'd,
On talent we have witness'd and have lost.
Here, on this mimic scene, alas! the day!
How many fleeting time has snatch'd away!
His fatal scythe, of late, the hoary sage
Has swung with ampler sweep along the stage.
Tardy no more, he treads the Drama's ground,
But strides like Mars, and mows with fury round.
Companions of his course, on either hand
Death glares-and gentle Hymen waves his brand,
Here Death to a chill grave some actor carries,
Here Hymen beckons—and an actress marries.
Thinned thus of brilliant talent and of worth,
Is then our Drama threaten'd with a dearth?
Not so, we trust-for Judgment sure can find
Full many a favourite still left behind,