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A view so ungraceful, then taught him to muse on Full many a Campbell who'd died with his shoes

on;

All amazed, and aghast, at this ominous scene, He order'd it straight, to be shut up again, With a clump of Scotch firs by way of a screen.

A DUCHESS'S GHOST*

ΤΟ

ORATOR HANOVER PITT.+

AS musing on his bed the Speecher lay,
Conning harangues for some important day;
Labouring to make the turns harmonious fall,
And to the taste attune 'em of Whitehall :
A sudden noise, career of fancy stops,
And a pale phiz within the curtain pops.

Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough.

+ We owe the recovery of our affairs to Mr. Pitt; he has placed us at the head of Europe: the splendor of our country, the conquest of Canada, Louisbourg, Guadaloupe, Africa, and the East-nothing is too much for such services. I hope you will not think the Barony of Chatham, and £.3,000 a year for 3 lives to Lady Esther too much; she has this pittance.-W.

The phiz his opening eye no sooner meets,
Than quick he dives between the unsavory sheets:
Not proof against the visage of her grace,

Down sinks-till now, that unembarrass'd face.

The Spectre thus: "No sooner laid my head, "But all thy patriot sentiments are fled: "And I in my atoning project chous'd, "The latest and the best I e'er espous❜d.

"To my trustees (since fate forbids to me), "Return, base villain! my retaining fee ;*

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Bequeath'd to save that country thou would'st sell,

"Refund-not such a Judas roars in hell.

"That soften'd thief, by sense of guilt dismay'd,

"Threw back the price of him he had betray'd;

* The Duchess of Marlborough left Mr. Pitt £.10,000 for the prejudices he had done to the Royal Family.-W.

"But, wretch! my purse in thy polluted paws "Meant to support, thou turn'st to crush, the

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cause;

"Tho' lost on thee, yet hear these rules I teach :

Usage like this would make the devil preach. "No weight to words can eloquence impart,

"Tho' ne'er so clear the head, if foul the heart: "Men's words, the world will by their actions

scan:

"The orator must be the honest man.

"No prostitute the generous bosom arms,

"The whore peeps thro' the bloom, and blasts her charms.

"Once with applause was heard thy flowing

tongue,

"And on its motions sweet persuasion hung: "But now those lips (and thanks to Sarah's

money)

"That in thy country's struggles drop down

honey,

"Shall please no more! (take my prophetic word) "Nor all their flourishes be worth a

"But see! the morning streaks the eastern sky: "Now crows the scaring cock: from hence I hie,

"And leave thee to the lash of lost integrity."

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