The

The Annual Turkey.

merry Monarch felt the treat, And laugh'd as heartily as eat.

At length arriv'd the supper's close, When Harry from the table rose ; Down on his knees the joker fell, Confess'd he knew his Sov'reign well. "But pardon, Sire," he humbly said, "The freedoms that my joy betray'd; "I only strove with playful ease, "Good-humour'd Majesty to please: "And be my fate whate'er it may, ""Twill cheer me to my latest day, "To think that once a little while, "I made the best of Sov'reigns smile."

Th' astonish'd dame her King survey'd, Then bow'd before his feet, dismay'd. "Rise!" said the King; "I cannot bear "To see my friends lie prostrate there.".

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Nay," cried the man, "I cannot rise "Till further grace my Sire supplies; “It would degrade a King so good, "To own a friend of vulgar blood: "One only way can I divine

"To save your fame-by raising mine : "I want not wealth, but noble name"A title that I will not shame."

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The Annual Turkey.

"Oh!" said the merry King, "you jest, " Or make a very bold request;

"But should I grant you this affair,

"What arms pray will your Lordship bear?"— My turkey, Sire," said he, " alone

"I would as my insignia own.

"I feel too grateful to my bird

"For honour through its aid conferr'd,

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"In being with my King a guest

"To ever wish another crest."

Loud laugh'd the King: "Then rise," he said, "Thou shalt a gentleman be made.

Thy turkey blazon on thy shield,
And boast it made a Monarch yield."
From thence so flourish'd his affairs,

He left a castle to his heirs,

Who bore his arms to days remote,
And held the turkey in their coat.

Here much my story fails, I know,

For I receive, and you bestow;
I, that can make you no return,
And that would a flatt'ry spurn.

you,

Yet, were I King, believe me, Sir,
Though I could not more worth confer,
I would the world the grace afford,
Of making ONE GOOD MAN À Lord.

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An Evening Walk.

AN EVENING WALK

At White's, the Seat of J. Stevenson, Esq. near
Beaconsfield.

O SOLITUDE! I dearly love
With thee at dewy eve to rove

O'er White's enamell'd green :
Where clam'rous Folly, wild and rude,
Nor giddy Fashion dare intrude
To break the charm serene.

Here Silence reigns, save where remote
The bird of night with jarring throat
The wand'rers' steps pursues;
Or when the beetle winds his drone,
Or owl, in melancholy tone,

His distant partner woos.

Here Contemplation glances round,
Then quits its sublunary bound,

The heav'nly scenes to trace :

On flitting clouds I sail along,

And view the stars, a splendid throng,

Or moon with silver face.

* The bird called the Night-jar, follows with its noise those who approach its district.

An Evening Walk.

The orb of day has bow'd his head,
Yet his departing lustre shed,

To gild the tow'ring trees;
Refreshing coolness fans the air,
And sweetly mingled scents prepare
To float on ev'ry breeze.

Or mid the sultry blaze of day,
"Tis sweet within the woods to stray,
Whose spreading branches form

A living done, a mild retreat,
A shade impervious to the heat,
Or shelter from the storm.

Here the blithe squirrel skips his way
From tree to tree, from spray to spray,
Of liberty secure ;

Here safe, the minstre's of the wing
Their matin song, and vespers sing,
In Nature's temple pure.

Where yonder rising brow appears,
The village church its steeple rears,
And marks the honour'd place,
Where Waller, rich beyond the scope
Of many a luckless Poet's hope,
Enjoy'd his books and chace.

D

An Evening Walk,

Perhaps beneath these shades reclin'd,
He left the busy world behind,

To converse with the Muse;

Here felt poetic frenzy rise,

Embodying earth, and seas, and skies,
In Panorama views.

There Burke, of motley Fame, abode,
Who travell❜d long the thorny road
Ambition will ascend;

Grown old, and blam'd, and yet admir'd,
He would enjoy at length retir'd,
His pension and his friend.

May you, my Host, still feel the charm
Of woods and fields, and lawn and farm
Long soothing life's deeline!

Long may you, ere you sink to rest,
Relieve the poor, and cheer your guest,

Then claim a seat divine*!

* Alas! since the above was written, this truly good mata as for ever quitted this delightful earthly residence.