Deeds of ill fort, and mif.hievous emprize : Lend me thy clarion, goddess! let me try To found the praise of merit, ere it dies; Such as I oft have chaunced to efpy, Loft in the dreary fhades of dull obscurity. In every village mark'd with little spire, Embower'd in trees, and hardly known to fame, There dwells, in lowly fhed, and mean a tire, A matron old, whom we school-miftrefs name; Who boasts unruly brats with birch to tame; They grieven fore, in piteous durance pent, Aw'd by the power of this relentless dame; And oft-times, on vagaries idly bent, For unkempt hair, or tafk unconn'd, are forely fhent. And all in fight doth rife a birchen tree, And as they look'd they found their horror grew, And fhap'd it into rods, and tingled at the view. So have I feen (who has not, may conceive,) Sad fervitude fuch comfortless annoy And eyes her fairy throng, and turns her wheel around. Her cap, far wither than the driven fnow, With dark diftruft, and fad repentance fill'd; And ftedfat hate, and fharp affliction join'd, And fury uncontroul'd, and chaftifement unkind Few but have ken'd, in femblance meet pourtray'd, The childish faces of old Eol's train; Libs, Notus, Aufter thefe in frowns array'd, How then would fare or earth, or fky • main, A ruffet ftole was o'er her fhoulders thrown; 'I'was fimple ruffet, but it was her own; 'Twas her own country bred the flock so fair! 'Twas her own labour did the fleece prepare ; And, footh to fay, he pupils, rang'd around, Through pious awe, did term it paffing rare; For they in gaping wonderment abound, And think, no doubt, the been the greatest wight on ground. Albeit ne flattery did corrupt her truth, Ne would efteem him act as mought behove, One ancient hen he took delight to feed, The plodding pattern of the busy dame; Which, ever and anon, impell d by need, Into her school, begirt with chickens, came; Such favour did her palt deportment claim: And, if negle&t had lavish'd on the ground Fragment of bread, he did collect the fame; For well fhe knew, and quaintly could expound, What fin it were to wafte the mallèft crumb the found. Herbs too fhe knew, and well of each could That in her garden fip'd the filvery dew; Fresh baum, and mary-gold of chearful hue; Yet euphrafy may not be left unfung, That gives dim eyes to wander leagues around; And marjoram fweet, in fhepherd's pofie And lavender, whofe fpikes of azure bloom Shall be, ere-while, in arid bundies bound, To lurk amidft the labours of her loom, And crown her kerchiefs clean, with mickle rare perfume. And And here trim rofemarine, that whilom crown'd The daintiest garden of the proudest peer; pear. Oh waffel days! O cuftoms meet and well! Ere this was banish'd from its lof y fphere: Simplicity then fought this humble cell, Nor ever would the more with thane and lordling dwell. Here oft the dame, on fabbath's decent eve, If winter 'twere, fhe to her hearth did cleave, Uphung their useless lyres-fmall heart had they to fing. For fhe was juft, and friend to virtuous lore, And tortious death was true devotion's meed; burn: Ah deareft lord, forefend, thilk days fhould e'er return. In elbow-chair, like that of Scottish stem (The fource of children's and of courtiers pride!) Redress'd affronts, for vile affronts there pafs'd; And warn'd them not the fretful to deride, But love each other dear, whatever them betide. Right well the knew each temper to defcry; To thwart the proud, and the fubmifs to raise; Some with vile copper-prize exalt on high, And fome entice with pittance fmall of praife; And other fome with baleful fprig fhe frays: Ev'n abfent, fhe the reins of power doth hold, While with quaint arts the giddy crowd fhe fways; Forewarn'd, if little bird their pranks behold, Twill whisper in her ear, and all the scene usfold. Lo now with ftate fhe utters the command! On which thilk-wight, that has y-gazing been, Kens the forth-coming rod, unpleafing fight, I ween! Ah lucklefs he, and born beneath the beam And down they drop, appears his dainty fkin, O ruthful scene! when from a nook obfcure, His little fifter doth his peril fee: All playful as the fate, the grows demure; She finds full foon her wonted fpirits flee; She mediates a prayer to fet him free: Nor gentle pardon could this danie deny (If gentle pardon could with dames agree) And wings her fo that all for pity fhe could dye. To her fad grief that fwells in either eye, No longer can fhe now her fkricks command; And hardly the forbears, through awful fear, To rushen forth, and with prefumptuous hand, To ftay harsh justice in its mid career. On thee the calls, on thee her parent dear! (Ah! too remote to ward the fhameful blow!), She fees no kind domestic visage near, And foon a flood of tears begins to flow; And gives a loose at last to unavailing woe. But ah! what pen his piteous plight may trace? Or what device his loud laments explain? The form uncouth of his disguised face? The pallid hue that dyes his looks amain? The plenteous fhower that does his cheek difftain? When he, in abject wife, implores the dame, Ne hopeth ought of fweet reprieve to gain ; And, through the thatch, his cries cach falling Or when from high fhe levels well her aint, ftroke proclaim. The other tribe, aghaft, with fore difmay, (This hand in mouth y-fix'd, that rends his hair :) And eke with fnubs profound, and heaving breaft, Convulfions intermitting! does declare His grievous wrong; his dame's unjust beheft ; And fcorns her offer'd love, and shuns to be carefs'd. His face befprent with liquid crystal fhines, If fo I deem aright, transcending worth and fame. Ah me! how much I fear left pride it be ! But if that pride it be, which thus infpires, Beware, ye dames, with nice difcernment fee, Ye quench not too the sparks of nobler fires Ah! better far than all the Mules' lyres, All coward arts, is valour's generous heat; The firm fixt breast which fit and right acquires, Like Vernon's patriot foul; more juftly great Than craft that pimps for ill, or flowery false deceit. Yet, nurs'd with skill, what dazzling fruits appear! Ev'n now fagacious forefight points to show Though now he crawl along the ground fo low, Nor weeting how the Mufe fhould foar on high, [fly. Wifheth, poor ftarveling elf! his paper kite may And this perhaps, who, cenfuring the defign, Low lays the house which that of cards doth build, Shall Dennis be! if rigid fate incline, But now Dan Phoebus gains the middle skie, VOL. Vil. Deluded wight! who weens fair peace can fpring; Beneath the pompous dome of kefar or of king. See in each sprite fome various bent appear! Thilk to the huxter's favory cottage tend, In paftry kings and queens th' allotted mite to fpend. Here, as each feafon yields a different store, Each feafon's ftores in order ranged been; Apples with cabbage-net y-cover'd o'er Galling full fore th' unmoney'd wight, are feen; And goofe-b'rie clad in livery red or green; And here of lovely dye, the catharine pear, Fine pear as lovely for thy juice, I ween; O may no wight e'er pennylefs come there, Left fmit with ardent love he pine with hopelefs care! See! cherries here, ere cherries yet abound, With thread fo white in tempting pofies ty'd, Scattering like blooming maid their glances, round, With pamper'd look draw little eyes afide; And must be bought, though penury betide, The plumb all azure and the nut all brown, And here each feafon do thofe cakes abide, Whofe honour'd names *th' inventive city III. To Mr. DODSLEY. Ah! 'midft the reft may flowers adorn his grave, H EPITAPH. * ERE, here the lies, a budding rose, Whofe innocence did fweets difclofe Beyond that flower's perfume, To those who for her death are greiv'd, She's from the forms of life reliev'd INSCRIPTIONS. 1. On a Tablet against a Root-Houfe. H ERE, in cool grot and moffy cell, We rural fays and faeries dwell; The turf, with dailies broider'd o'er Would you then tafte our tranquil scene, And tread with awe thefe favour'd bowers Nor wound the fhrubs, nor bruife the flowers; HEPHERD, would't thou here obtain Joy that fuits the rural fphere? If thou canst no charm difclofe But beneath them lurks a thorn; "Fair and flowery is the brake, "Yet it hides the vengeful fnake. "Think not the, whofe empty pride "Dares the fleecy garb deride. "Think not fhe, who, light and vain, "Scorns the fheep, can love the swain. "Artlefs deed and fimple dress, "Mark the chofen fhepherdefs; :: Thoughts by decency control'd "Well conceiv'd, and freely told. "Senfe, that fhuns each conscious air, "Let not lucre, let not pride, "Draw thee, from fuch charms afide, "Have not those their proper fphere ? "Gentler paflions triumph here. "See, to fweeten thy repofe, "The bloffom buds, the fountain flows; "Lo! to crown thy healthful board, "All that milk and fruits afford. "Seek no more--the reft is vain ; V. OR V. On the back of a Gothic Alcove. You that bathe in courtly blyffe, Or toyle in fortune's giddy fpheare; Do not too rafhly deem amyffe Of him that bydes contented here. Nor yet difdeigne the ruffet ftoale, Which o'er each carcleffe lymbe he flyngs: Nor yet deryde the breechen bowle, In whyche he quaffs the lympid fprings. From whyche thefe peaceful glennes are free. X. On a Seat. CELEBERRIMO POETAR 1ACOBO THOMSON PROPE FONTES ILLI NON FASTIDITOS G. S. SEDEM HANC ORNAVIT. Quæ tibi, quæ tali reddam pro carmine dona ? Nam neque me tantum venientis fibilus auftri, Nec percuffa juvant fluctu tam litora, nec quæ Saxofas inter decurrunt flumina valles. XI. On a Seat at the Bottom of a large Let me haunt this peaceful fhade; The tenants of this leafy bower Flow gentle fream, nor let the vain Thy fmali unfully'd ftores difdain: Nor let the penfive fage repice, Whose latent courfe refembles thine,.. |