When I can command time, I may give you some more scraps from my port-folio, which never saw the light of day, and which I think worth preserving. Meantime, I am, Sir, Yours respectfully, NETHERHILL. Philad. April 10, 1809. SONG, ON THE GLASGOW HODGE PODGE CLUB. BY THE LATE DR. MOORE. A CLUB of choice fellows each fortnight employ, If you would know, somewhat more of this class, Like the kings in Macbeth, one by one they shall pass : The man, who cant bear a good-natur'd rub, I am sure is unworthy a place in this club, Derry down, &c. The first of the list is stout Thomas* the tall, Rough Peter's the next of the group, that appear, Derry down, &c. * Dr. Thomas Hamilton, an eminent physician, and professor of anatomy in Glasgow College. † Peter Blackburn, Esq. merchant. Mr. Blackburn, Chesnut-street, in this city, lately deceased, was cousin to this gentleman. 1 Honest Davis* slinks in, with a slovenly air, What whistling and singing now grateth our ears; I wish he'd leave whistling, and mumping his nails, With feelings too keen to be ever at ease, An obsequious Doctors appears next in view, Does a merchant, a squire, or a soldier come next, Easy Murdoch comes sauntering, as if in a dream, Dr. Crosse, an amiable and eminent clergyman. John Campbell, Esq. of Clathie, an eminent merchant, and banker. James Dunlop, Esq. of Garnkirk, also an eminent merchant, and high personal talents. This gentleman is still alive, and has some sons, I believe, respectable merchants in Virginia. Dr. Stevenson; a fashionable and eminent physician, professor of medicine in Glasgow College, and brother-in-law to the celebrated Dr. Hope of Edinburg. John Baird, Esq. of Craigton, a respectable landholder, or country. squire. ¶ Peter Murdoch, Esq. a respectable merchant, In your voyage through life, Peter, choose your friends well ; 'Tis in their power to land you, in heaven or in hell,. Derry down, &c. What precise, dapper gentleman now treads the scene, Begot, born, and bred, in John Calvin's meek faith, A pair of gold buckles, without any carving; The figure and workmanship not worth a farthing; An emblem of Orr, and it fits to a tittle, Derry down, &c. The surly companion, he brings up the rear; Would fain have you think him a poet and wit; But, egad, Dr. Moore,§ you are damnably bit, Derry down, &c. James Ritchie, Esq. an eminent banker and merchant. A son of this gentleman fell in a duel, a few years ago, in Virginia. † Archibald Henderson, Esq. an eminent merchant, son of a respectable clergyman. A brother of this gentleman lives on his estate, nigh Dumfries, Virginia, and one of his sons was a merchant lately at Alexandria. John Orr, Esq. an eminent lawyer, and city clerk of Glasgow. § The Author closes up the rear, in the last verse, descriptive of himself. VOL. LL. FOR THE PORT FOLIO. MR. OLDSCHOOL, IF the following trifle is deemed worthy of a place in The Port Folio, a few, at least, of Mr. Oldschool's subscribers will be gratified. It is offered by one whose former contributions to that Miscellany, were received with some little applause; and who may possibly be recollected as the author of " Emily Hammond," "An Essay on shaking hands," and half a dozen "poetical posies," presented in 1807. The writer is well aware that, in the present form of The Port Folio, less room is probably afforded for the sportive effusions of Taste, Sentiment, or Frolic, than its former weekly publication furnished: and on this account he is prepared to expect either Criticism or Rejection. WHAT, Harry! still solus? no wife in the chace? Still afraid of that soul-chilling "No?" Poor faint-hearted soul! how I pity your case! Here are blue eyes and black eyes-the fair and brunette- See Clara sweet model of feminine grace! A temper more sweet, or a lovlier face, Might be worshipp'd, but could not be lov'd. Will sighing and wishing e'er bring to your arms, On Mira's blue eye could an anchorite gaze, With calmness to glance on so 'witching a face, The rose and the lily bloom bright on her cheek Her lips! how with nectar imbu'd! You monster of dulness! and why dont you speak,m Have J's attractions no longer a charm? Or what can have render'd them less? Can sweetness so touching, and goodness so warm Your sense of her merit you oft have avow'd By heav'n you deserve a ratan Go-whine, like a school-boy, "I would if I could," "God help me!—I will if I can." W. THE following elegant, erudite and sublime poem, equally destitute of hyperbole and bombast, was composed under the full inspiration of a long beard and the unpaid bill of my tailor. THE TONSORIAD. O, FOR a quill from Python's dragon wing, Whose crater's depth should mock an ocean's right; Than soul of Satan, or than Cackle's clack; Whose tangent plane might hide the world below; and Sylphs, ye that lead, the salient hairs among, In stern array, your tardy marching throng, Pierce, with keen tubes, the prurient folds of skin, You shrunk amazed, and trembled at the sight, The keen steel glittering in his technic hands; |