By THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL.

I.
Indite, my Muse!—indite! subpoena’d is thy lyre!
The praises to record, which rules of Court require!
’Tis thou, O Clio! Muse divine,
And best of all the Council Nine,
Must plead my cause!—Great HATFIELD’S CECIL bids me sing———
The tallest, fittest man, to walk before the King!

II.
Of Sal’sbury’s Earls the First (so tells th’ historic page)
’Twas Nature’s will to make most wonderfully sage;
But then, as if too liberal to his mind,
She made him crook’d before, and crook’d behind[1].
’Tis not, thank Heav’n! my Cecil, so with thee;
Thou last of Cecils, but unlike the first;—
Thy body bears no mark’d deformity;——
The Gods decreed, and judgment was revers’d!
For veins of Science are like veins of gold!
Pure, for a time, they run;
They end as they begun—
Alas! in nothing but a heap of mould!

III.
Shall I by eloquence controul,
Or challenge send to mighty ROLLE,
Whene’er on Peers he vents his gall?
Uplift my hands to pull his nose,
And twist and pinch it till it grows,
Like mine, aside, and small?
Say, by what process may I once obtain
A verdict, Lord, not let me sue in vain!
In Commons, and in Courts below,
My actions have been try’d;—
There Clients who pay most, you know,
Retain the strongest side!
True to these terms, I preach’d in politics for Pitt,
And Kenyon’s law maintain’d against his Sovereign’s writ.
What though my father be a porpus,
He may be mov’d by Habeas Corpus—
Or by a call, whene’er the State
Or Pitt requires his vote and weight—
I tender bail for Bottle’s warm support,
Of all the plans of Ministers and Court!

IV.
And Oh! should Mrs. Arden bless me with a child,
A lovely boy, as beauteous as myself and mild;
The little Pepper would some caudle lack:
Then think of Arden’s wife,
My pretty Plaintiff’s life,
The best of caudle’s made of best of sack!
Let thy decree
But favour me,
My bills and briefs, rebutters and detainers,
To Archy I’ll resign
Without a fee or fine,
Attachments, replications, and retainers!
To Juries, Bench, Exchequer, Seals,
To Chanc’ry Court, and Lords, I’ll bid adieu;
No more demurrers nor appeals;——
My writs of error shall be judg’d by you.

V.
And if perchance great Doctor Arnold should retire,
Fatigu’d with all the troubles of St. James’s Choir;
My Odes two merits shall unite;
[2]BEARCROFT, my friend,
His aid will lend,
And set to music all I write;
Let me then, Chamberlain without a flaw,
For June the fourth prepare,
The praises of the King
In legal lays to sing,
Until they rend the air,
And prove my equal fame in poesy and law!

[1] Rapin observes, that Robert Cecil, the first Earl of Salisbury, was of a great genius; and though crooked before and behind, Nature supplied that defect with noble endowments of mind.

[2] This Gentleman is a great performer upon the Piano Forte, as well as the Speaking Trumpet and Jews’ Harp.