A Poetical Account of the Parlour, in Which is a Print of General Wolfe's Death

A POETICAL (BUT RATHER DIFFUSE) Account OF THE P ARLOUR, IN WHICH IS A P AINT OF G ENERAL W OLFE'S D EATH .

W HERE in the gallant Hero's parting breath
A Victor's wreath has crown'd the bed of Death,
Parental blessings and fraternal joy
A Daughter's and a Sister's life employ,
Till Cupid , jealous of the parlour's mirth,
Stamps on a lover's claim superior worth.
Pale at the laugh, and peevish at the jest,
With envy I contemplate Charles the guest;
Make Fanny's eye my torture and my theme,
Or muse in visions on the purling stream;
Take aim with James , but never kill a bird,
Or patch with Tom his clock that none have heard;
Or in the barn aboard his vessel sleep,
Ensur'd against the terrors of the deep.
Alas! I rave; — nor James nor Tom is here;
I call on Fanny , but she will not hear:
With M ****** she divides the senseless joker,
And reads the Gospel of the day with C ****;
Writes prayers and sermons till her eyes are dim,
Or sings with David a Moravian Hymn.
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