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The souls calm pleasure to surprise ?
What's charity, iņ various ways,
To public pomp and holidays ?

5.
What, seamen who have faced grim slaughter,
To little ships upon fresh water?
What, filling poor men's empty pockets,
To shows, balloons, and Congreve's rockets ?

. . . 6.
Would'st thou presume (unskill'd in letters)
To judge the actions of thy betters ?
Would'st thou (the matter not to mince)
Think thou art wiser than a P- ?

Oh! no; well knows his sapience

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Thou never couldst be so dislayal;
He knows thy mouth (still gaping wider)
With novelty must be supplied;

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He knows thy ear still on the stretch, in
Each breath of rumour strange to
Thy hands he knows great sights applauds
And eke he knows thy back is broad.

Expenses, heap'd with daily care,
He knows it strong enough to bear;'
For e’en tó mountains swell the pack,
Thy lusty sinews ne'er would crack.

10.
What though, when lords and ladies come,
In splendour to a D- -R-m;
Thy sons assembled in large masses,
Will growl displeasure as he passes ;

11.

Let them but have cheap concession !
A sight of banquet or procession,
A gala or illumination,
Their anger’s sooth'd to approbation.

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Come, Johnny, do not stay to dine,
Let's hasten to the Se el
Let thy attention there engage,
The wonder of this wond'rous age!

13.

The Fleet! The Fleet! behold it there !--
Why, Johnny, pray what makes you stạre ?
“ The Fleet, sir?" Yes, man, don't you spy it,
It is a Fleet, who dare deny it?

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W. MARCHANT, Printer, Ingram-court, Fenchurch-street.

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COME rouse thee! rouse thee! JOHNNY BULL!
Nor wait until the Park is full;
Come, haste and join the eager throng,
Fast moving through the streets along!

Nay, 'do not scruple the expense,
"Tis pleasure, John, that calls thee hence,
Nor coldly calculate the use,
That sums so lavish'd would produce.

3.

If given to cheer the vetran maim'd.
In bold exploits of valour fam’d;
Or given to each aching breast,
* The vetran falln has left distrest:

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A Fleet built on the newest plan,
By many a skilful artizan,
Fit for—(nay, John, thy mouth pray shut,)
Fit for the King or LILLIPUT!

15.
Let Nelson's name no more be sounded,
By deathless laurels though surrounded;
Let Howe and Duncan (sons of thunder)
Never more excite our wonder!

16.
St. Vincent hide thy fallen head,
And mourn, alas ! thy glories fled;
But shout his fame, this fleet who plann'd,
The first best toyman in the land !

17.

Lament, lament, great ALEXANDER,
Prone in other climes to wander !
PRussia's MONARCH mourn thy fate,
Denied a sight that came too late!

18.

Thou BONAPARTE! luckless wight!
Fast bound in Elba's Isle so tight,
Had'st thou been blest to see this day,
Encircled with imperial sway,

out there

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