SIR MARMADUKE. GEORGE COLMAN "the younger," born 1762, died 1836. He's painted standing bolt upright, With his hose roll'd over his knee; His dining-room was long and wide; His spaniels lay by the fire-side ;- Of an ancient family. He never turn'd the poor from the gate; But was always ready to break the pate Of his country's enemy. What knight could do a better thing, Than serve the poor, and fight for his king? And so may every head Of an ancient family. From the play of the "Iron Chest," founded upon Godwin's novel of Williams." "Caleb CONTENT AND A PIPE. CONTENTED I sit with my pint and my pipe, And surely the brow of grief nothing can wipe For, though liquor can banish man's reason afar, Who with reason or sense would be ever at war, Man is but a pipe-and his life but smoke. Yes, a man and a pipe are much nearer akin For, until with breath they are both fill'd within, Take but the breath from them both quite away, Thus I'm told by my pipe that to die is man's lot, And, sooner or later, die he must; For when to the end of life's journey he's got, Like a pipe that's smoked out-he is dust: So you, who would wish in your hearts to be gay. Encourage not strife, care, or sorrow, Make much of your pipe of tobacco to-day, For you may be smoked out to-morrow: For, though at my simile many may joke, Man is but a pipe-and his life but smoke. WHAT IST TO US WHO GUIDES THE STATE? WHAT is't to us who guides the state? The world will still be ruled by knaves, Our youth runs out, occasion flies, Kind Providence has us supplied Beneath this lime-tree's fragrant shade, ABRAHAM NEWLAND. Anonymous. From the "Whim of the Day"-a Collection of Songs for 1800. THERE ne'er was a name so handed by fame, Thro' air, thro' ocean, and thro' land, As one that is wrote upon every bank note, Notified Abraham Newland! I have heard people say, sham Abraham you may, For fashion or arts should you seek foreign parts, It matters not wherever you land, Jew, Christian, or Greek, the same language they speak, That's the language of Abraham Newland. O, Abraham Newland! Wonderful Abraham Newland! Tho' with compliments cramm'd, you may die and be d-d, If you hav'n't an Abraham Newland. The world is inclin'd to think Justice is blind, O, Abraham Newland! Magical Abraham Newland! Tho' Justice 'tis known can see through a millstone, Your patriots who bawl for the good of us all, Invincible Abraham Newland! No argument's found in the world half so sound The French say they're coming, but sure they are humming; We'll make their ears ring in defence of our King, O, Abraham Newland! Darling Abraham Newland! No tri-colour'd elf, nor the devil himself, Shall e'er rob us of Abraham Newland. Mr. Abraham Newland was cashier at the Bank of England towards the close of the last century. THE GUINEA. From the "Whim of the Day" for 1801. MASTER Abraham Newland's a monstrous good man, If it warn't for the yellow boys-pray what think you? With Newland's own letters of credit proceed, Then your lawyers, and doctors, and such sort of folks, Who with fees and such fun, you know, never stand jokes, In defence of my argument try the whole rote, Sure they'll all take a guinea before a pound note. The French would destroy all our credit and trade, From a picture like this we true Britons can't part, "TWAS MERRY IN THE HALL. OUR ancient English melodies Are banish'd out of doors, Like a pig in a gate, Give me the good old strain, When 'twas merry in the hall, The beards wagg'd all, We shall never see the like again! On beds of down our dandies lay, While our squires of old would raise the day, And their wives took care The feast to prepare, For when they left the plain, Oh! 'twas merry in the hall, The beards wagg'd all, We shall never see the like again! 'Twas then the Christmas tale was told Of goblin, ghost, or fairy, And they cheer'd the hearts of the tenants old And they each took a smack Of the cold black-jack, |