JUSTICE JERRY, OR THE WIDOWER.
IN Sleep's warm embraces the Justice lies snoring,
Busy Fancy in dreams his past pleasures restoring!
Up the well-known green hill she shews crowds fast as
And a long cavalcade on the Sheriff attending; [cending,
The blissful Assizes she pictures before him,
With all the delights that attend on the Quorum;
Grand Juries, grand Dinners, and circling Decanters,
And bus'ness, and bustle, and speeches, and banters;
Now Jobs thick as filberts, she gives in her bounty,
And tickles his palm, with the purse of the County;
Grave Lawyers and Judges she soberly musters,
And points in all corners Attorneys in clusters:
At her magical touch, all the scenery blooms,
And white wigs, like white roses, shed precious per-
And now, like Arachne, as Jerry prepares [fumes.
To fetter poor vagrants in law-woven snares;
Behold to disturb the fine web of his fancy,
Nurse comes to announce the demise of his Nancy;
Slow turning, and stretching, and yawning, he cries,
"Zounds! Nurse is she gone?" "Sure enough" she
replies.
Lack-a-day! as the cock crew, I shut up her eyes :
O the dear pretty corps! you would swear she's a sleeping,
'Twould comfort your worship to take but a peep in." "Cease, cease, you old Gossip! with prate to oppress
[me;
Odds life! I'm so hurried! send Dick here to dress
How unlucky that Nanny should die at this crisis!
Doctor Speed-em declar'd she'd outlive the Assizes;
But wives, young or old, are for ever perplexing,
And living or dying, take pleasure in vexing!"
Thus the Justice exclaims,-as half sleeping, half
waking,
Poor Dick staggers down, in a sorrowful taking.
"So Richard! you're there! I approve of your haste!
Alas! my good Fellow! we've no time to waste!
Scarce the moment we're speaking is at our command,
We're all unprepar'd, and the Judge is at hand!”
"O! mercy upon us; and keep us from evil!"
Cries Dick all aghast,-" and from Death and the Devil! Sure, as the Pray'r says, we are miserable sinners! And the Judge will soon see, that we're not new be
Though mistress was young, and so good, and so pretty,
Lord bless us, your honour! see Death had no pity;
We're forty years older;-but sure we be stronger,
So, Master, mayhap we may last a bit longer!"
Why you curs'd sleepy Buzzard! what is't you're a dreaming? [teeming ?" With what nonsense is this that thy numskull's a Cries the Justice enrag'd-in a voice loud as thunder, While Dick stands as stiff as the statue of Wonder. "I sent for you, Sirrah!" continues the Master, "To assist in repairing this morning's disaster; But when County affairs my attention engage, You prate about Death, and the Devil and Age!
Go first to Ned Snip, and bring him in haste,
You rascal! you know I have no time to waste;
Assure him I must have my mourning to day,
For my present condition admits no delay;
Then as you return call on Mrs. Mac Thimble,
And get me a hat band, be sure you be nimble;
Let my mourning be finished with fashion and fancy,
As a proof of my grief for my dear little Nancy;
Let me see! this is Monday! we'll earth her to mor-
'Tis the only wise method to bury one's sorrow; [row,
I'm too tender hearted for watching and weeping,
And what would my wife be the better for keeping;
Then as soon as we've done with that sneaking dog
To regulate matters we, perhaps, may be able! [Sable,
Then the house may be settled, things put in their places,
Now all's in disorder as often the case is!
On Wednesday in business quite up to the ears,
We must measure our roads and consult overseers:
To the Assizes on Thursday,-away I shall drive!
Or Egad! my Presentments would few of them thrive!"
So concluded Old Jerry :—and just as he said,
He got on his mourning and buried his dead;
He settl'd his household,-his roads did he measure,
Then drove to
with spirit and pleasure:
But think what a trial awaited him there,
Enough for a Job, or a Jerry to bear!
The Sheriff imagin'd-how wild was his fancy
That Jerry would stay to lament over Nancy:
So another he placed in his stead on the Jury,
Which rous'd our meek magistrate into a fury.
Thus the Justice, poor man! was excluded from play,
But he watch'd o'er the Game all the length of the day;
And at night with the Judges and Jurors so merry,
Say who was so joking, so jovial as Jerry:
But now, O my Muse, the sad sequel relate! Lo! a Writ is just issued from the high Court of Fate. In Law and in Riches, how vain all his trust is! Influenza arrests him, altho' he's a Justice: The hard hearted Bailiff the Prisoner apprizes, To pack up his papers and quit the AssizesThat on Styx he must sail, without passport or clearance, Before Chief Justice Minos to make his appearance; Where no counsel shall plead for, no int'rest can bail him, Where no Juries are pack'd, and no bribes can avail him, Now Jerry he finds, as he steps out of life, That a husband is mortal as well as a wife, And learns too this truth, as he yields his last breath, That the sly like the simple are subject to Death!
WRITTEN DURING HER LIFETIME,
HERE lies my good housekeeper, Maggy the old;
Who was, I confess it, a horrible scold;
And I cannot help fearing the Devil will win her,
For I'm sure whilst she liv'd that he always was in her;
Yet to take her e'en he should beware of consenting,
Since a rival he'd find in the Art of Tormenting':
For when she was here I can tell Mr. Devil,
That his house and my house were much on a level.
Could he send her above, he at length would be even
With those Angels that kick'd him to Hell out of Heav'n,
SAPPHO'S ADDRESS TO THE EVENING STAR,
SCENE.- THE PROMONTORY OF LEUCADIĄ.
STAR of my soul! if bright thou rise,
To cheer with hope these weeping eyes;
Or come to light the cold wave's breast,
The pillow of thy Sappho's rest;
Still thy blest beam is joy to me,
For I'm thy truest votary.
And oh! if yonder swelling wave,
Is doom'd to be thy Sappho's grave;
Wilt thou upon its bosom sleep,
And charm the tempests of the deep?
That here if Phaon, pity-led,
Should breathe one sigh for Sappho dead;
My hovering shade may hear that sigh,
For then it will be bliss to die!
How oft I've pour'd my soul to thee,
In songs of sweetest melody;
And bade my lyre's soft numbers rove,
In all the luxury of love!
But now the burning blush I steep,
In tears that must for ever weep.
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