In a figure I'll cloke Ireland's fate and her tears

"Tis for facts, and not figures, we 're cag'd for two years.
Like the veins grateful tenant's return to the heart,
What its generous vigour propell'd to each part-
Should that heart paralytic contract on the rents,
The extremities canker in sore discontents.
Then the politic body grows hagard and thin,
And Giffards and Duigenans break out on the skin ;
Drawn and pallid the face, the nose red as a coal,
And vermin are found in the Hare, near the Pole.
For such dangerous symptoms as these I describe,
A physician of skill would emollients prescribe,
With some cordial concessions the stomach to warm,
And a few gentle doses of gradual reform.

Then behold what a change-the complexion grows clear,
The Giffards and Duigenans shrink, fade, disappear;
And the body, reliev'd both from vermin and bile,
Stands erect, while the face beams with Liberty's smilė.

Our vigour returns, and our hands are employ'd,
Our fortunes are better'd, secur'd, and enjoy'd ; ·
Our spirits are buoyant, our loyalty hearty-
Who would then care a button for grim Buonaparte ?
But is this our condition? No; weak and divided,
Our wrongs unredress'd, our misfortunes derided,

We droop like-but hold! what the devil's come o'er me?
Sure that must be Newgate-that big house-before me!
And sure it was lucky, by injuries stung,

That I rais'd up my eyes, and so rein'd in my tongue;
God bless you, kind bars! had I follow'd my text,
I'd have ne'er told the rambles I'll send in my next.

INTERCEPTED CORRESPONDENCE.
[From the Morning Post, Jan. 25.]

MR. EDITOR,

A LETTER, of which the following is a faithful copy, was lately found on the person of a man of very suspicious appearance, upon Wimbledon Com

mon.

mon. The only account which he could give of himself, when brought to my office, was, that he had been employed to deliver the said letter to a gentleman in that neighbourhood, whose name he pretended not to recollect, alleging that he had two or three, or, for aught he knew, a dozen more. I thought proper to remand the prisoner for further examination; and, in the mean time, crave the aid of your valuable paper, to lay this document before the public; and as it bears neither date, signature, nor address, I trust to the sagacity of your readers to detect the author, and to develope the circumstances of this mysterious business. I have the honour to be, Mr. Editor,

Your humble servant,

ONE OF HIS MAJESTY'S Justices of PEACE
FOR THE COUNTY OF SURREY.

Cur me querelis exanimas tuis? &c. &c.

Vide Horace, Ode XVII. Lib. 2.

Au! why these plaints, that downcast look?
For pity's sake, forbear, dear T-ke,

To rack my harass'd mind:

(a) The gods themselves, as well as I,
And my constituents, cry Fye!

Take courage, man; what! would you die,
And leave your friend behind?"

Can I survive my better half,

My tutor, prompter, prop, and staff?

No-(b) I have said and sworn

We ne'er should part; and, since I'm loth
To violate my sacred oath,

Let's e'en take hands, and journey both

Together, dear J

-n H

(a) Nec Diis amicum est, nec mihi,

Te prius obire, &c.

(b) Non ego perfidum

-ne.

Together

(c) Together to the shades we'll go, And hold our dialogues below,

As we were wont at P-r-y:
Grammar and politics shall frisk,
Releas'd from blank and asterisk :
Staunch Jacobins, we run no risk,
Where all is hurly-burly.

Our bond of union to untie
Both men and dæmons I defy,

Though leagued to haunt and bait us:
(d) The Speaker's warrant, Sergeant's mace,
All foes both in and out of place;

The Sheriff's grim Gorgonian face, (e)
And posse comitatus.

(f) Though justice vote me to the Tower,
At least I may dispute her power

To snatch me from perdition:
Oh! 't would our dearest plots defeat,
Were we to part no more to meet ;
Better at once give up my seat,
Let Prc-1 petition,

To issue out another writ

1 rather would like Theseus sit,

Than mute for want of cramming
Defer your dissolution; wait
Till Parliament dissolve: of late
I take the lead in no debate

While you lie sick or shamming.

(g) One planet rul'd when we were born; My Cancer and your Capricorn.

(c) Dixi sacramentum: ibimus, ibimus, &c. (Non me Chimæræ spiritus igneæ,

(e) Nec, si resurgat, centimanus Gyas Divellet unquam.

Sic potenti

Justitiæ placitumque Pareis.

(g) Utrumque nostrum incredibili mode

Consentit astrum. Te Jovis impio

Tutela Saturno refulgens

Eripuit, volucrisque fati

Tardavit alas.

Both

Both tally to a hair:

Jove's belt at odds with Saturn's ring,

Strove which a certain neck should string:
In neither 't was your lot to swing;
Thanks to Chief Justice E-e.

From me alike my horoscope
(Allowance made for steel and rope,
Heroic nape and gullet,)

(h) Arrests the threaten'd axe: the ball
Averted glances, lest I fall
Inglorious, by the hand of P-1;

Though scor'd by his curst bullet.

Some faun, no doubt a stickler warm
For us the patrons of reform,
Was lounging in the Park;
But be that matter as it may,
I live to fight another day,

With C-nn-g or with C-st-r-h,
And side with Mrs. Clarke.

And you, my friend, more quartos fill'd
With " Winged Words," shall live to build
New systems and "Diversions ;"
Victims by hecatombs shall hang,
While you invent, and I harangue,
(i) Like lambs to bleed I'll train the gang,
In my Tower Hill excursions,

(h) Me truncus illapsus cerebro
Sustulerat, nisi Faunus ictum :
Dextra levâsset, Mercurialium
Custos virorum. Reddere victimas,
Ademque votivam memento.
(i) Nos humilem feriemus agnam.

PADDY

PADDY M 'KEW,

A NEW SONG ON THE DISCOVERY OF THE LATE HORRIBLE CONSPIRACY IN DUBLIN, COMMONLY CALLED "PADDY M'KEW'S PLOT *."

[From the Morning Chronicle, Jan. 25.11

OCH! Paddy, you Papist, and how could you dare
To go frighten poor gentlefolks out of their sense?
When that great Lawyer S-r-n was taking the air,
And his Gr-
-e getting drunk at Old Ireland's expense,
Little P―e was preparing some beautiful touches

Of grammar and style for Lord Eld-n's delight;
And D-gen-n was playing Pope Joan with the D-ch-ss,
When, Paddy, you spalpeen! you bother'd them quite.
Och, Paddy M'Kew!

Give the d-1 his due,

It was Providence surely that say'd us from you;
So long life to the church,

And to Alderman B-rch,

And a fig for your plot, Mr. Paddy M'Kew!
When first we were told of your plotting so sly,
We thought 't was a dish from our old Castle Cook 3
And M-sgr―ve declar'd 't was so pretty a lie,

That he wish'd he had known it in time for his book.
But G-ff-rd can see in it omens most sinister,

Fit for those times of the fagot and stake,

When good-natur'd men, like himself and the M-n-ster, Roasted each other for piety's sake...

Och, Paddy, &c.

Then here's to your health, my brave Earl of F-ng-ll! Who have sav'd church and state from this terrible shake; In life may you meet with no crosses at all,

Except those which your own honest finger may make! And if you'll thus watch o'er the lives of your betters, The service, as usual, they'll gratefully pay,

By letting you dance your old hornpipe in fetters,
To grace their rejoicing next Jubilee Day!

Och, Paddy M'Kew!

Give the d-1 his due, &c.

*For the air, see Moore's Melodies, 4th Number, "This life is all chequer'd."

BRITISH