ns of my early youth,
Infix'd by precepts of my pious sire,
Are stings and scorpions in my goaded breast;
Oft have I hung upon my parent's knee
And heard him tell of his escape from France;
He left the land of slaves, and wooden shoes;
From place to place he sought a safe retreat,
Till fair Bostonia stretch'd her friendly arm
And gave the refugee both bread and peace:
(Shall I ungrateful 'rase the sacred bonds,
And help to clank the tyrant's iron chains
O'er these blest shores--once the sure asylum
From all the ills of arbitrary sway?)
With his expiring breath he bade his sons,
If e'er oppression reach'd the western world,
Resist its force, and break the servile yoke.

SCRIBLERIUS.

Well quit thy post;----Go make thy flatt'ring court
To Freedom's Sons and tell thy baby fears;
Shew the foot traces in thy puny heart,
Made by the trembling tongue and quiv'ring lip
Of an old grandsire's superstitious whims.

MONSIEUR.

No,----I never can----
So great the itch I feel for titl'd place,
Some honorary post, some small distinction,
To save my name from dark oblivion's jaws,
I'll hazard all, but ne'er give up my place,
For _that_ I'll see Rome's ancient rites restor'd,
And flame and faggot blaze in ev'ry street.

BEAU TRUMPS.

----That's right, Monsieur,
There's nought on earth that has such tempting charms
As rank and show, and pomp, and glitt'ring dress,
Save the dear counters at belov'd Quadril,
Viner unsoil'd, and Littleton, may sleep,
And Coke lie mould'ring on the dusty shelf,
If I by shuffling draw some lucky card
That wins the livres, or lucrative place.

HUM HUMBUG.

When sly Rapatio shew'd his friends the scroll,
I wonder'd much to see thy patriot name
Among the list of rebels to the state,
I thought thee one of Rusticus's sworn friends.

BEAU TRUMPS.

When first I enter'd on the public stage
My country groan'd beneath base Brundo's hand,
Virtue look'd fair and beckon'd to her lure,
Thro' truth's bright mirror I beheld her charms
And wish'd to tread the patriotic path
And wear the laurels that adorn his fame;
I walk'd a while and tasted solid peace
With Cassius, Rusticus, and good Hortensius,
And many more, whose names will be rever'd
When you, and I, and all the venal herd,
Weigh'd in Nemesis, just impartial scale,
Are mark'd with infamy, till time blot out
And in oblivion sink our hated names.
But 'twas a poor unprofitable path,
Nought to be gain'd, save solid peace