Quips and Cranks, and wanton Wiles,
Nods, and Becks, and wreathed Smiles,
Such as hang on Hebe's cheek,
And love to live in dimple fleek;
Sport that wrinkled Care derides,
And Laughter holding both his fides.
Come, and trip-it as you go
On the light fantastick toe,

And in thy right hand lead with thee,
The Mountain Nymph, sweet Liberty;
And if I give thee honour due,
Mirth, admit me of thy crue

To live with her, and live with thee;
In unreproved pleasures free;
To hear the Lark begin his flight,
And finging startle the dull night,
From his watch-towre in the skies,
Till the dappled dawn doth rife;
Then to come in fpight of forrow,
And at my window bid good morrow,.
Through the Sweet-Briar, or the Vine,
Or the twifted Eglantine.

While the Cock with lively din
Scatters the rear of darkness thin;

And to the stack, or the Barn-dores
Stoutly ftruts his Dames before,

Oft lift'ning how the Hounds and Horm
Chearly roufe the flumbring mor

From the fide of fome Hoar till, Through the high wood echong Sha

Some time walking not unseen

By Hedge-row Elms, on Hillocks green,
Right against the Eastern gate,

Where the great Sun begins his state,
Rob'd in Flames, and Amber light,
The Clouds in thousand Liveries dight,
While the Plow-man near at hand,
Whistles o'er the Furrow'd Land,
And the Milkmaid fingeth blithe,
And the Mower whets his fithe,
And every Shepherd tells his tale
Under the Hawthorn in the dale.
Streit mine eye hath caught new pleasures
Whilft the Lantskip round it measures.
Ruffet Lawns, and Fallows Gray,
Where the nibbling flocks do ftray,
Mountains on whofe barren breft
The labouring Clouds do often reft,
Meadows trim with Daifies pide,
Shallow Brooks, and Rivers wide.
Towers and Battlements it fees
Boofom'd high in tufted Trees,
Where perhaps fome beauty lies,
The Cynosure of neighbouring eyes.
Hard by, a Cottage chimney fmokes,
From betwixt two aged Okes,
Where Corydon and Thyrfis met,
Are at their favoury dinner fet
Of Herbs, and other Country Messes,
Which the neat-handed Phillis dreffes 3

And then in hafte her Bowre the leaves,
With Theftylis to bind the Sheaves;
Or if the earlier Seafon lead

To the tann'd Haycock in the Mead,
Sometimes with secure delight
The up-land Hamlets will invite,
When the merry Bells ring round,
And the jocond rebecks found

To many a Youth, and many a Maid,
Dancing in the Chequer'd fhade;

And young and old come forth to play
On a Sunshine Holy-day,

Till the live-long day-light fail,
Then to the Spicy Nut-brown Ale,
With ftories told of many a feat,
How Faery Mab the junkets eat,
She was pincht, and pull'd, the faid,
And he by Friars Lanthorn led,
Tells how the drudging Goblin swer,
To earn his Cream-bowle duly fet,
When in one night, ere glimps of morn,
His fhadowy Flale hath thresh'd the Corm
That ten day-labourers could not end,
Then lies him down the Lubbar Fend.
And stretch'd out all the Chimney's length,
Basks at the fire his hairy ftrength;
And Crop-full out of doors he flings,
Ere the firft Cock his Mattin rings.
Thus done the Tales, to bed they creep,
By whispering Winds foon lull'd afleep.

Towred Cities please us then,

And the bufie humm of men,

Where throngs of Knights and Barons bold,
In weeds of Peace high triumphs hold,
With ftore of Ladies, whose bright Eyes
Rain influence, and judge the prise,
Of Wit, or Arms, while both contend
To win her Grace, whom all commend.
There let Hymen oft appear

In Saffron robe, with Taper clear,
And pomp, and feast, and revelry,
With mask, and antique Pageantry,
Such fights as youthful Poets dream
On Summer Eeves by haunted stream.
Then to the well-trod Stage anon,
If Johnson's learned Sock be on,
Or fweetest Shakespear, fancy's child,
Warble his native Wood-notes wild,
And ever againft eating Cares,
Lap me in foft Lydian Aires,
Married to immortal verse

Such as the meeting Soul may pierce
In notes, with many a winding bout
Of lincked sweetness long drawn out,
With wanton heed, and giddy cunning,
The melting voice through mazes running;
Untwisting all the chains that ty

The hidden foul of harmony.

That Orpheus felf may heave his head
From golden fumber on a Bed