SPOKEN BY MRS. G — — , AT HER BENEFIT .

Untaught to tread the Muse's various maze,
And quite unpractis'd in poetic lays,
I'll tell my simple tale in plain familiar phrase.

In farmer's yard I've seen a housewife stand,
Peace in her looks, and plenty in her hand,
Dealing her friendly favours on the ground,
Whilst all the neighb'ring poultry gather round.

Bold Chanticleer, in shining plumage gay,
Struts on before, and leads the well-known way;
His consort next, she guides his chatt'ring train,
Impatient to devour the golden grain;
Next stalks the turkey-cock above the rest,
With rosy gills and elevated chest;
The screaming goose and waddling duck come last,
Alike partakers of the free repast.

The breakfast done, behold each thankless guest,
(Some birds, like men, make gratitude a jest)
With insolence and pamper'd pride elate,
Presumes his merit should provide him meat,
And thinks the hostess thank'd, that he vouchsaf'd to eat.
A linnet, perching on a neighb'ring tree,
The well-provided banquet chanc'd to see;
She lights, and mingling with the motley crew,
Feasted, as most at free expence will do;
Then singling from the mercenary throng,
Repaid the gen'rous donor with a song.

Could well-wrought numbers with my wish agree,
The grateful linnet you'd behold in me;
But doom'd to silence from my want of skill,
Accept, kind Patrons! of a warm good will.