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O MEMORY! thou fond deceiver,
Still importunate and vain, To former joys recurring ever,
And turning all the past to pain ;
Thou, like the world, the opprest oppressing,
Thy smiles increase the wretch's woe; And he who wants each other blessing,
In thee must ever find a foe.
JOHN TROTT was desir’d by two witty peers, To tell them the reason why asses had ears; “ An't please you,” quoth John, “I'm not given to
“Nor dare I pretend to know more than my betters. “Howe'er from this time I shall ne'er see your graces, “ As I hope to be sav'd! without thinking on asses."
HERE lies poor NED PURDON,from misery freed,
Who long was a bookseller's hack:
I don't think he'll wish to come back
* This gentleman was educated at Trinity College, Dublin; but having wasted his patrimony, he enlisted as a foot soldier. Growing tired of that employment, he obtained his discharge, and became a scribbler in the newspapers.
He translated Voltaire's HENRIADE.
E L E G Y
GLORY OF HER SEX,
MRS. MARY BLAIZE.
GOOD people all, with one accord,
Lament for Madam Blaize, Who never wanted a good word
From those who spoke her praise.
The needy seldom pass'd her door,
And always found her kind; She freely lent to all the poor,
Who left a pledge behind.
She strove the neighbourhood to please,
With manners wond'rous winning; And never follow'd wicked ways,
Unless when she was sinning.
At church, in silks and satins new,
With hoop of monstrous size ;" She never slumber'd in her
pew, But when she shut her eyes.
Her love was sought, I do aver,
By twenty beaux and more;
When she has walk'd before.
But now her wealth and finery fled,
Her hangers-on cut short all ; The doctors found, when she was dead,
Her last disorder mortal.
Let us lament, in sorrow sore,
For Kent-street well may say, That had she liv'd a twelvemonth more,
She had not dy'd to-day.