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Says this to that "If you'll the story hear, "I'll tell you, Hal, a secret worth your ear.
"The Old Man's* gone where God knows what's
"And I've declared that I'll accept his place."-"And is it so! why let me tell you, brother, "(Sure one good turn, they say, deserves ano
"I, too, for once, a secret will reveal,
"Which long, indeed, I cannot well conceal: "Our master, who you know ne'er breaks his
"Promis'd I should succeed him at the board
tation nor avarice, and yet with little generosity he loved his family and his friends, and enriched them as often as he could steal an opportunity from his extravagant bounty to his enemies and antagonists; his expense was unbounded for intelligence; it was one of the greatest blemishes of his administration; he wanted it so entirely-not resolution more. He never forgave but when he durst not resent.-W.
* Earl of Wilmington.
"Full low bow'd I, as love and duty taught."
Will star'd, and cock'd, and cock'd and star'd
Pleased Harry blush'd to
see his rival's
COUNTESS OF YARMOUTH*
MAKING THE CAMPAIGN.
WITH George, what hero can compare,
That dares protect his fav'rite fair,
Amid'st the thunder of the field?
* Amelia Sophia, Countess of Yarmouth, Mistress of George II., who left her a strong box, not to be opened but by her. She was wife of the Baron of Walmoole; and was created Countess of Yarmouth. She had a son by the king, who went by the name of Monsieur Louis; but was not owned.
The Countess of Yarmouth was inoffensive, and attentive only to please the king, and selling Peerages whenever she had an opportunity.-W.
The Countess touched twelve thousand for Sir Jacob Bouverie's coronet.-W.
To Lady Yarmouth a cabinet, with contents, which they call a £.12,000.-W.
The god of war out done we see; In action Venus he dismiss'd, Till he had made his foe to flee, Then slyly after battle kiss'd. But George, to love and war allied, Both deities at once admires;
And swelling big with Martial pride, By Love allays his glowing fires.
A Poetical Epistle,
FROM A GREAT MAN IN THE ARMY,
BATTLE OF DETTINGEN.
THE King, save his Grace,
Is in very good case,
Tho' scorch'd by the heat of the fire;
He heard the guns play,
But would never-no never-retire.
His highness the Duke,*
Whose leg a ball took,
* Duke of Cumberland.