ON THE SAME. 1. WHEN wit and genius meet their doom In all devouring flame, They tell us of the fate of Rome, And bid us fear the same. 2. O'er MURRAY'S loss the muses wept, They felt the rude alarm, Yet bless'd the guardian care that kept His sacred head from harm. 3. There mem'ry, like the bee that's fed From Flora's balmy store, The quintessence of all he read Had treasur'd up before. 4. The lawless herd with fury blind Have done him cruel wrong, The flow'rs are gone — but still we find The honey on his tongue.