In vain the Syrens tune the fong
With treach'rous mufic's luring tongue;
He ftill maintains his road :

In vain they glance their beck'ning guiles,
Deftructive charms, and wanton wiles;

His foul is fix'd-on God.

At length he kens the promis'd land,
And hails aloud the with'd for strand,
With heavenly joy poffeft;
And 'midft the plenty of his ftore,
His labour past, his toil no more,
Enjoys the port of reft.

§ 223. The Enquiry. Written in the laft Century. AMONGST the myrtles as I walk'd,

Love and my fighs thus intertalk'd:

Tell me, faid I, in deep diftrefs, Where may I find my thepherdefs?' "Thou fool, faid Love, know'st thou not this? "In ev'ry thing that's good, the is; "In yonder tulip go and feck,

"There thou may ft find her lip, her cheek; "In yond enamell'd panfy by,

t

"There thou fhalt have her curious eye; "In bloom of peach, in rofy bud, "There weave the streamers of her blood; "In brighteft lilies that there ftand, "The emblems of her whiter hand; "In yonder rifing hill there fmell "Such fweets as in her bofom dwell: "'Tis true," faid he. And thereupon I went to pluck them one by one, To make of parts an union; But on a fudden all was gone.

With that I ftopt. Said Love, "These be, "Fond man, refemblances of thee; "And as thefe flow'rs thy joys fhall die, "E'en in the twinkling of an eye;

"And all thy hopes of her fhall wither, "Like thefe fhort fweets that knit together,

ELEGANT

creation,

§1. The diverting Hiflory of John Gilpin; Bewing baru be went farther than he intended, and came fafe home again. COWPER.

OHN GILPIN was a citizen

Of credit and renown,

A train-band captain cke was he

Of famous London town.

John Gilpin's fpoufe faid to her dear,
Though wedded we have been
Thefe twice ten tedious years, yet we
No holiday have feen.
To-morrow is our wedding-day,
And we will then repair
Unto the Bell at Edmonton,
All in a chaife and pair.
My fifter and my sister's child,
Myfelf and children three,
Will fill the chaife, so you must ridę
On horfeback after we,

He foon replied, I do admire

Of womankind but one;
And you are the, my deareft dear,
Therefore it fhall be done.

I am a linen-draper bold,

As all the world doth know,
And my good friend the callender
Will lend his horse to go.

Quoth Mistress Gilpin, That's well faid;
And, for that wine is dear,
We will be furnifh'd with our own,
Which is both bright and clear.
John Gilpin kifs'd his loving wife;
O'crioy'd was he to find

That, though on pleafure the was bent,
Se hai frugal mind,

The morning came, the chaife was brought,
But yet was not allow'd

To drive up to the door, lest all

Should fay that he was proud.
So three doors off the chaife was stay'd,
Where they did all get in,

Six precious fouls, and all agog

To dash through thick and thin.

Smack went the whip, round went the wheels, Were never folk fo glad;

The ftones did rattle underneath

As if Cheapfide were mad.
John Gilpin at his horfe's fide
Sciz'd faft the flowing mane;
And up he got in hafte to ride, -
But foon came down again :

For faddle-tree fcarce reach'd had he,
His journey to begin,

When, turning round his head, he faws
Three customers come in,

So down he came; for lofs of time,
Although it griev'd him fore,
Yet lofs of pence, full well he knew,
Would trouble him much more.
'Twas long before the customers
Were fuited to their mind;

When Betty fcreaming came down stairs,
"The wine is left behind!"

Good lack quoth he-yet bring it me,
My leathern belt likewife,

In which I bear my trusty fword
When I do exercife.

Now Miftrefs Gilpin, careful foul !
Had two ftone bottles found,

To hold the liquor that the lov'd

And keep it fafe and found.

Each bottle had a curling car,

Through which the belt he drew,

And hung a bottle on each fide,

To make his balance true;
Then over all, that he might be

Equipp'd from top to toe,

His long red cloak, well brush'd and neat,
He manfully did throw.

Now fee him mounted once again
Upon his nimble ftced,
Full flowly pacing o'er the ftones
With caution and good heed.
But finding foon a fmoother road
Beneath his well-fhod feet,
The fnorting beaft began to trot,
Which gall'd him in his feat.
So, fair and foftly, John he cried,
But John he cried in vain;
That trot became a gallop foon,
In fpite of curb and rein.

So ftooping down, as needs he must
Who cannot fit upright,

He grafp'd the mane with both his hands,
And eke with all his might.

His horfe, who never in that fort

Had handled been before,
What thing upon his back had got

Did wonder more and more.
Away went Gilpin, neck or nought,
Away went hat and wig;
He little dreamt, when he fat out,
Of running fuch a rig.

The wind did blow, the cloak did fly,
Like ftreamer long and gay,
Till, loop and button failing both,
At laft it flew away.
Then might all people well difcern
The Lottles he had flung;
A bottle fwinging at each fide,
As hath been faid or fung.

The dogs did bark, the children fcream'd,
Up flew the windows all;

And ev'ry foul cried out, Well done!
As loud as he could bawl.
Away went Gilpin-who but he;

His fame foon fpread around-
He carries weight! he rides a race!
"Tis for a thousand pound.
And ftill as faft as he drew near,
'Twas wonderful to view
How in a trice the turnpike men
Their gates wide threw.

open

And now as he went bowing down
His recking head full low,
The bottles twain behind his back
Were fhatter'd at a blow.

Down ran the wine into the road,
Moft piteous to be seen,

Which made his horfe's flanks to fmoke
As they had bafted been.

But still he feem'd to carry weight,
With leathern girdle brac'd;

For all might fee the bottle-necks
Still dangling at his waist.
Thus all through merry Iflington
Thefe gambols he did play,
And till he came unto the Wash
Of Edinonton fo gay.

And there he threw the wash about
On both fides of the way,
Juft like unto a trundling mop,
Or a wild goofe at play.
At Edmonton his loving wife
From balcony efpied

Her tender husband, wond'ring much
To fee how he did ride.

Stop, ftop, John Gilpin! here's the house-
They all at once did cry;

The dinner waits, and we are tir'd:
Said Gilpin--So am I.

But yet his horfe was not a whit
Inclin'd to tarry there;
For why his owner had a house
Full ten miles off, at Ware.
So like an arrow fwift he flew,

Shot by an archer strong;
So did he fly-which brings me to
The middle of my song.
Away went Gilpin, out of breath,

And fore against his will,

Till at his friend's the callender's

His horfe at last stood still.

The callender, amaz'd to fee

His neighbour in such trim,

Laid down his pipe, flew to the gate,
And thus accofted him:

What news! what news! your tidings tell,

Tell me you must and shall

Say why bare-headed you are come,
Or why you come at all?
Now Gilpin had a pleasant wit,
And lov'd a timely joke;

And thus unto the callender
In merry guife he spoke :

I came because your horfe would come:
And, if I well forbode,

My hat and wig will foon be here,
They are upon the road.

The callender, right glad to find
His friend in merry pin,
Return'd him not a fingle word,
But to the house went in;

Whence ftraight he came with hat and wig,
A wig that flow'd behind,.

A hat not much the worfe for wear,
Each comely in its kind.

He held them up, and in his turn

Thus fhew'd his ready wit:
My head is twice as big as yours,
They therefore needs must fit.
But let me scrape the dirt away

That hangs upon your face;
And stop and eat, for well you may
Be in a hungry cafe.

Said John, It is my wedding-day;
And all the world would itare,
If wife should dine at Edmonton,

And I fhould dine at Ware.
So turning to his horfe he faid

I am in hafte to dine:

'Twas for your pleasure you came here,
You fhall go back for mine.
Ah lucklefs fpeech, and bootlefs boast!
For which he paid full dear;
For while he fpake a braying afs
Did fing moft loud and clear;
Whereat his horfe did fnort, as he
Had heard a lion roar;
And gallop'd off with all his might,
As he had done before.
Away went Gilpin, and away

Went Gilpin's hat and wig;
He loft them fooner than at first,
For why they were too big.
Now Mistress Gilpin, when the faw
Her hufband posting down
Into the country far away,

She pull'd out half a crown;

And thus unto the youth fhe faid

That drove them to the Bell,
This fhall be yours when you bring back
My husband fafe and well.

The youth did ride, and foon did meet
John coming back amain,
Whom in a trice he tried to stop
By catching at his rein;

But not performing what he meant,
And gladly would have done,
The frighted fteed he frighted more,
And made him fafter run.

Away went Gilpin, and away

Went poft-boy at his heels,
The poft-boy's horse right glad to miss
The lumb'ring of the wheels.
Six gentlemen upon the road
Thus feeing Gilpin fly,
With poft-boy fcamp'ring in the rear,
They rais'd the hue and cry :
Stop thief! ftop thief!—a highwayman!
Not one of them was mute;
And all and each that pafs'd that way
Did join in the pursuit.

And now the turnpike gates again
Flew open in fhort space;
The toll-men thinking, as before,
That Gilpin rode a race.

And fo he did, and won it too,
For he got first to town,
Nor ftopp'd till where he firft got up
He did again get down.

Now let us fing, Long live the king,
And Gilpin, long live he;
And when he next doth ride abroad,
May I be there to fee!

§ 2. An Evening Contemplation in a College; in Imitation of Gray's Elegy in a County Church-yard. DUNCOMBE. THE curfew tolls the hour of closing gates;

With jarring found the porter turns the key; Then in his dreary manfion flumbering waits, And flowly, sternly quits it, though for me. Now fhine the fpires beneath the paly moon, And thro' the cloifters peace and filence reign; Save where fome fidler fcrapes a drowsy tune, Or copious bowls infpire a jovial ftrain; Save that in yonder cobweb-mantled room, Where fleeps a student in profound repofe, Opprefs'd with ale, wide echoes thro' the gloom The droning music of his vocal nose.

Within those walls, where thro' the glimmering fhade

Appear the pamphlets in a mouldering heap, Each in his narrow bed till morning laid,

The peaceful fellows of the college fleep. The tinkling bell proclaiming early pray'rs, The noify fervants rattling o'er their head, The calls of business, and domestic cares,

Ne'er rouse these fleepers from their doway bed.

No chattering females crowd their fecial fire,
No dread have they of difcord and of strife,
Unknown the names of husband and of fire,
Unfelt the plagues of matrimonial life.
Oft have they bafk'd beneath the funny walls,
Oft have the benches bow'd beneath their
weight,

How jocund are their looks when dinner calls!
How smoke the cutlets on their crowded plate!
O let not temperance, too difdainful, hear

How long their feasts, how long their dinners laft:

Nor let the fair, with a contemptuous fneer,
On these unmarried men reflections caft!
The fplendid fortune and the beauteous face

(Themfelves confefs it, and their fires bemoan)
Too foon are caught by fcarlet and by lace;
Thefe fons of fcience fhine in black alone.
Forgive, ye fair, th' involuntary fault,
If thefe no feats of gaiety display,
Where through proud Ranelagh's wide-echoing

vault

Melodious Frafi trills her quavering lay. Say, is the fword well fuited to the band?

Does broider'd coat agree with fable gown? Can Mechlin laces fhade a churchman's hand' Or learning's votaries ape the beaux of town? Perhaps in these time-tottering walls refide

Some who were once the darling of the fair, Some who of old could taftes and fashions guide, Control the manager, and awe the player. But Science now has fill'd their vacant mind With Rome's rich spoils, and truth's exalted views,.

Fir'd them with transports of a nobler kind, And bade them flight all females-but the mufe.

Full

Full many a lark, high towering to the sky, Unheard, unheeded, greets th' approach of light; Full many a ftar, unfeen by mortal eye,

With twinkling luftre glimmers through the night.

Some future Herring, who, with dauntless breaft

Rebellion's torrent fhall like him oppose, Some mute, unconfcious Hardwicke here may reft,

Some Pelham, dreadful to his country's foes. From prince and people to command applause, 'Midft ermin'd peers to guide the high debate, To fhield Britannia's and Religion's laws,

And fteer with fteady courfe the helin of stateFate yet forbids; nor circumfcribes alone

Their growing virtues, but their crimes confines;

Forbids in Freedom's veil t' infult the throne, Beneath her mafque to hide the worst designs; To fill the madding crowd's perverted mind, With "penfions, taxes, marriages, and Jews;" Or fhut the gates of heaven on loit mankind,

And wreft their darling hopes, their future views.

Far from the giddy town's tumultuous ftrife,

Their wishes yet have never leain'd to ftray; Content and happy in a fingle life,

They keep the noifelefs tenor of their way. Ev'n now, their books from cobwebs to protect, Inclos'd by doors of glafs in Doric ftyle On polish'd pillars rais'd with bronzes deck'd, They claim the paffing tribute of a finile: Oft are the authors' names, though richly bound, Mif-fpelt by blundering binders' want of care; And many a catalogue is itrew'd around,

To tell th' admiring gucft what books are there. For who, to thoughtless ignorance a prey, Neglects to hold fhort dalliance with a book? Who there but wishes to prolong his stay,

And on thofe cafes cafts a lingering look? Reports attract the lawyer's parting eyes,

Novels Lord Fopling and Sir Plume require, For Songs and Plays the voice of Beauty cries, And Senfe and Nature Grandifon defire. For thee, who, mindful of thy lov'd compcers, Doft in thefe lines their artlefs tale relate, If chance, with prying search, in future years, Some antiquarian fhould enquire thy fate; Haply fome friend may shake his hoary head, And fay, "Each morn unchill'd by fiofts he

66 ran,

"With hofe ungarter'd, o'er yon turfy bed, "To reach the chapel ere the pfalmis began; "There, in the arms of that lethargic chair, "Which rears its old moth-eaten back fo high, "At noon he quaff'd three glaffes to the fair, "And por'd upon the news with curious cyc. "Now by the fire engag'd in serious talk, "Or mirthful converfe, would he loitering 66 stand;

"Then in the garden chofe a funny walk, "Or launch'd the polish'd bowl with steady "hand.

"One morn we mifs'd him at the hour of pray'r, "Nor in the hall, nor on his favourite green: Another came; nor yet within the chair, "Nor yet at bowls or chapel was he seen.

"The next we heard that, in a neighbouring "fhire,

"That day to church he led a blufhing bride, "A nymph whose fnowy veft and maiden fear "Improv'd her beauty while the knot was tied. "New, by his patron's bounteous care remov'd, "He roves enraptur'd thro' the fields of Kent; "Yet, ever mindful of the place he lov'd, "Read here the letter which he lately fent." The Letter.

IN rural innocence fecure I dwell,

Alike to fortune and to fame unknown; Approving confcience cheers my humble cell, And focial quiet marks me for her own: Next to the bleffings of religious truth,

Two gifts my endless gratitude engage— A Wife, the joy and tranfport of my youth; Now with a Son, the comfort of my age.

Seck not to draw me from this kind retreat,

In loftier fpheres unfit, untaught to move; Content with calm domeftic life, where meet The fweets of friendship, and the finiles of love.