At Berlin long to tarry:

Oh, GEORGE, if pertness have the power To make Him rise ambassadour,*

Let Me be secretary!

He was Ambassador at the court of Dresden at this time.

AN ODE

ΤΟ

SIR CHARLES HANBURY WILLIAMS;

OCCASIONED BY SEEING AN ODE INSCRIBED TO

LORD CHESTERFIELD.

WHO'S this? what! Hanbury the lyric?
Changing his notes to panegyric,

In fearful dread of fighting?
But 'tis in vain; for Hussey swears,
If Cynthius* won't, he 'll lug your ears,
And make you leave off writing.

Think you, because you basely fled
To Saxony to hide your head,

On odes you still may venture?

Or wipe off scandal left at home,
By meanly daubing him, in whom
All commendations centre?

* Cynthius aurem vellit et admonuit.

No; Stanhope chuses thy abuse,
Detesting such a filthy Muse,

Whose very praise is satire;

For well he knows the worthless knight is Just such another as Thersites,

For bulk, abuse, and stature.

If charg'd with courage man should be, (Like powder in artillery,

Proportion'd to the barrel)

Can'st thou, a blunderbuss so large,
With scarce a pocket-pistol's charge,
Presume to bounce or quarrel?

Then quit these dangerous trifling lays, With low abuse, or empty praise,

'Tis nonsense all and folly;

Or if you will be writing odes,
Which ev'ry mortal here explodes,

Write birth-day odes for Colley.*

* Colley Cibber, who was Poet Laureat at this time.

There may you stretch poetic wing,

Sing peace or war, GOD BLESS THE K—g,
And all his measures praise;

Then should old Cibber chance to die,
And Hussey let you come, and try,

Perhaps you'll get the bays.

AN ODE

TO

LORD LINCOLN.

I.

O LINCOLN! joy of womankind!
To you this humble ode's design'd;
Let - inspire my song:

Gods! with what pow'rs are you endu❜d!
Tiberius was not half so lewd,

"Tis

Nor Hercules so strong.

II.

now my pen employs,

And since I sing of heav'nly joys,

From heav'n my notes I'll bring:

And tho' the lyric strain I chuse,

I'll open like the Mantuan Museand the man I sing."