ON READING IN THE PUBLICK PAPERS, OF A LADY THAT HAD ORDER'D THE KING OF PRUSSIA A PRESENT OF A THOUSAND POUNDS. No more let haughty _Austrians_ cry, "_Fred'rick_ our foe, has no ally." The _British_ fair are on his side, And for the next campaign provide; Their fortunes to his chests transfer ... Money the sinews is of war. For him they plead, and much can say, For him they grow devout and pray! For him their martial ardours rise, And arm afresh their killing eyes; Those shining warriors ne'er were beat, But gain a conquest by retreat. _New Amer. Mag._, No. VII-172, July 1758, Woodbridge in N. J. Gentlemen. The following small poetical performance was hastily composed at the request, and for the entertainment, of a select company of publick spirited friends, who gave me a short notice of their intention to dine with me, and drink the protestant champion's health, as they termed the king of _Prussia_. They were indulgent enough to express their unanimous approbation of the piece, and insisted on my sending it up to you, in order (if you would be of their opinion) to occupy a leaf in your _Magazine_. I hope no reader will think the dignity of the subject, lessened merely by the familiar strain, in which it is written: when they consider, that _such_ seemed most suitable to the occasion, the verses consisting of eleven feet, are to be read, like the _Greek Iambics_ (which were, anciently, much used in convivial festivities) with less solemnity and more rapidity, than the common heroic measure of ten feet in our language will admit. Kent, Maryland, July 14, 1758. THE ROYAL COMET.