.Nw.ODcx

[?]n he, can such a one forget [?]y native humour, sterling wit? No, Garrick, he must surely find, deeply imprinted on his mind, [?] such warm tints thy form and face No time or distance can efface. [flourishes]

An ode by an Under Graduate of Lincoln College Oxford, on breaking a China Quart Mug belonging to the Buttens of that Society

Amphora non mercuit tam pretiosa mori

Whenever the cruel hand of Death Untimely stops a fav'rite's breath, Muses in plaintive numbers tell How lov'd he liv'd -- how mourn'd he fell -- Catullus' wail'd his sparrow's fate, And Gray immortaliz'd his Cat. Thrice tuneful bonds! could I but chime so clever, My Quart, my honest Quart, should live for ever.

   How weak is all a mortal power
   T'avert the death of devoted hour!
   Nor can a shape or beauty save
   from the sure conquest of the Grave.