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TO MR. PINCHBECK,
UPON IIIS NEWLY-INVENTED PATENT CAN
By MALCOLM M GREGOR, Esq.
Quousque ergo frustrà pascemus ignigenum istum ?
APULEII MET. Lib. 7. Why should a Patent be granted to this Candle-Snuffer in
ILLUSTRIOUS Pinchbeck! condescend,
These lyric lines to view ;
That burns a little blue.
It once had got a stately wick,
The Revolution put it:
As white as wax we saw it shine
Thro' two whole lengths of BRUNSWICK's line,
Till B-first dar'd to smut it.
Since then-but wherefore tell the tale ?
Enough, that now it burneth pale,
And sorely wastes its tallow : Nay, if thy poet rightly weens, (Tho' little skill'd in Ways and Means)
Its Save-all is but shallow.
Come then, ingenious artist, come,
Into each polish'd handle ;
To trim Old ENGLAND's candle.
But first, we pray, for its relief,
It else must quickly rue it ;
The melting of the suet.
There's TWITCHER too, that old he-witch,
And makes a filthy pother;
"T will soon be in a smother.
I fear me much, in such a plight,
Canadian fanes that deck;
ordains to blaze, And gild with their establish'd rays,
Our Lady of QUEBEC.
His arms, thou hallow'd image, bless !
He is thy Faith's Defender ;
And not to the Pretender.
Ilaste, then, and quash the hot turmoil,
And frights the Mother Nation :
A most superb oblation.
His patent snuffers, in a dish
His Cyclops shall bestir
A huge Extinguisher.
Shall furnish that well-temper'd steel,
Thou didst at Minden brandish ;
His ponderous leaden standish.
Poor Doctor JOHNSON, I'm afraid,
His style's case-harden'd graces !
Shall melt their brazen faces.
And sure, this mixt metallic stuff,
To mould the mighty cone.
’T will weigh some thousand stone.
“ Leave that to me,” our Lady cries, “ Howe'er gigantic be its size,
“ I have a scheme in petto: “ I'll fly with it from shore to shore, “ Safe as my sooty sister bore
“ Her cottage to Loretto.