Take the _writer_, whose size both of body and mind, Were much more gigantic, than common you'll find, Whose brains were employ'd for the good of the age, And perfect the language, you find in each page, Whether out with his Rambler, you venture to roam, Or stay with his Rasselas, shut up at home. When tired of his numbers, I'd have you to name, A _Bishop_ of Ireland, recorded by fame, Whose writings will ever be held in esteem, By those who make sacred religion their theme. Next remember the _writer_, whose delicate lay, Deserv'd from Apollo, a chaplet of Bay; Who in Hagley's sweet groves, for his Lucy did mourn, And wept with true sorrow long over his urn. There is none but poor Shaw, with his numbers can vie, Who so sweetly laments that his Emma should die. Then last name the _Poet_, whose anguish and grief, Seeks in sorrowful verses some little relief, Who o'er his Narcissa, so young, and so fair, Laments in a language, uncommon, and rare. Place these sons of Parnassus, in proper array, And they'll tell you a month that is cheerful and gay. A. R. [Aquarius] The _God_ whom Artists always grace, By giving him a double face: The _food_ divine, that's eat on high, By all the inmates of the sky; Also the _Liquor_, drank above, Which Hebe hands, to mighty Jove; _He_, who for fair Calypso's smile, Forgot his wife, and native isle: Now Thetis' _son_, who chose the strife, Of warlike fame, instead of life: That _island_, where we're always told, The brass Colossus stood of old: The _time_, no efforts can regain, Tho' oft we spend its hours in vain. Take the first letters and they'll tell A month, when firing pleases well. A. R. [Illustration] [Cancer] The _King_, who was forc'd Magna Charta to sign, Or his crown and kingdom, for ever resign. The _term_ which fair Scotland, with England did join, And the Roses and Thistles, agree to entwine. No king can I find, who will give my next letter, So think of an _Admiral_, can you do better? Then speak of the Trafalgar Hero whose name, Stands high in the records, of glory and fame. Then the pride of Old England, that _Queen_ who alone, Well guarded her rights, and protected her throne. If you join the initials, perhaps you will find, A Month in the year, when bright Phoebus is kind. A. R. [Illustration] [Taurus]