VERSES on Mr. B— moving to clear the Gallery of the House of Commons when Mr. Garrick was present

Squire B—n rose with deep intent, And notified to Parliament, That I, it was a shame and sin, When others were shut out, got in; Asserting in his wise oration, I gloried in my situation. I own my features might betray Peculiar joy I felt that day; I glory when my mind is feasted With dainties it has seldom tasted; When reason chuses Fox's tongue To be more rapid, clear, and strong; When from his classic urn Burke pours A copious stream thro' banks of slow'rs; When Barrè stern, with accents deep, Calls up Lord North, and murders sleep; And if his Lordship rise to speak, Then wit and argument awake. When Rigby speaks, and all may hear him, Who can withstand, ridendo verum? When Thurlow's words attention bind, The spell's of a superior mind. Now, whether I were whig or tory, This was a time for me to glory: My glory farther still extends, For most of these I call my friends. But if, 'Squire B—n, you were hurt, To see me as you thought so pert, You might have punish'd my transgression, And damp'd the ardour of expression. A brute there is, whose voice confounds, And frights all others with strange sounds; Had you, your matchless powers displaying, Like him, 'Squire B—n, sat a braying, I should have lost all exultation, Nor gloried in my situation.