The poetical works: of Edward Moore. With the life of the author.

Table of contents

- [frontispiece]

- [titlepage]

- [titlepage]

- THE LIFE OF EDWARD MOORE.

- PREFACE.

- TO HIS GRACE THOMAS HOLLES, DUKE OF NEWCASTLE.

- FABLES FOR THE LADIES.

- FABLE I. THE EAGLE AND THE ASSEMBLY OF BIRDS. To her Royal Highness THE PRINCESS OF WALES.

- FABLE II. THE PANTHER, THE HORSE, AND OTHER BEASTS.

- FABLE III. THE NIGHTINGALE AND GLOW-WORM.

- FABLE IV. HYMEN AND DEATH.

- FABLE V. THE POET AND HIS PATRON.

- FABLE VI. THE WOLF, THE SHEEP, AND THE LAMB.

- FABLE VII. THE GOOSE AND THE SWANS.

- FABLE VIII. THE LAWYER AND JUSTICE.

- FABLE IX. THE FARMER, THE SPANIEL, AND THE CAT.

- FABLE X. THE SPIDER AND THE BEE.

- FABLE XI. THE YOUNG LION AND THE APE.

- FABLE XII. THE COLT AND THE FARMER.

- FABLE XIII. THE OWL AND THE NIGHTINGALE.

- FABLE XIV. THE SPARROW AND THE DOVE.

- FABLE XV. THE FEMALE SEDUCERS.

- FABLE XVI. LOVE AND VANITY.

- ODES.

- THE DISCOVERY, AN ODE. TO THE RIGHT HON. HENRY PELHAM.

- ODE, TO GARRICK, UPON THE TALK OF THE TOWN.

- MISCELLANIES.

- THE TRIAL OF SELIM THE PERSIAN, FOR DIVERS HIGH CRIMES AND MISDEMEANOURS.

- THE TRIAL OF SARAH ****, ALIAS SLIM SAL, FOR PRIVATELY STEALING.

- ENVY AND FORTUNE, A TALE. TO MRS. GARRICK.

- TO THE RIGHT HON. HENRY PELHAM, The Humble Petition of the Worshipful Company of POETS AND NEWSWRITERS.

- THE LOVER AND THE FRIEND.

- THE NUN, A CANTATA.

- SOLOMON, A SERENATA, IN THREE PARTS. SET TO MUSICK BY DR. BOYCE.

- PART I.

- PART II.

- PART III.

- A HYMN TO POVERTY.

- PROLOGUE SPOKEN BY MR. WOODWARD, In the Character of a Critick with a Catcal in his Hand.

- AN ELEGY, Written among the Ruins of a Nobleman's Seat in Cornwal.

- SONGS.

- SONG I.

- SONG II.

- SONG III.

- SONG IV.

- SONG V.

- SONG VI.

- SONG VII.

- SONG VIII.

- SONG IX.

- SONG X.

- SONG XI.

- SONG XII.

- SONG XIII.

- CONTENTS.

- [colophon]

THE END.

BELLS EDITION The POETS of GREAT BRITAIN COMPLETE FROM CHAUCER to CHURCHILL

MOORE.

Then bending drew it to the Head:

Inraptured stood the loversick Maid.

Rebecca del. Bartolozzi sculp.

London Printed for John Bell British Library Strand May 5th.1782.

THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDWARD MOORE.

WITH THE LIFE OF THE AUTHOR.

Truth under fiction I impart

To weed out folly from the heart.—

I flatter none: the great and good

Are by their actions understood—

I echo not the voice of Fame

That dwells delighted on your name:

Her friendly tale, however true,

Were flatt'ry if I told it you.

The proud, the envious, and the vain,

The jilt, the prude, demand my strain:

To these detesting praise I write,

And vent in charity my spite:

With friendly hand I hold the glass

To all promisc'ous as they pass;

Should Folly there her likeness view

I fret not that the mirror's true:

If the fantastick form offend

I made it not but would amend.—

Premising this your anger spare,

And claim the Fable you who dare.

FABLE I.

EDINBURG: AT THE Apollo Press, BY THE MARTINS. Anno 1781.

THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDWARD MOORE. CONTAINING HIS FABLES, ODES, MISCELLANIES, SONGS, &c. &c. &c.

Truth under fiction I impart

To weed out folly from the heart.—

I fllatter none: the great and good

Are by their actions understood.—

I echo not the voice of Fame

That dwells delighted on your name:

Her friendly tale, however true,

Were flatt'ry if I told it you.

The proud, the envious, and the vain,

The jilt, the prude, demand my strain:

To these detesting praise I write,

And vent in charity my spite:

With friendly hand I hold the glass

To all promisc'ous as they pass;

Should Folly there her likeness view

I fret not that the mirror 's true:

If the fantastick form offend

I made it not but would amend.—

Premising this your anger spare,

And claim the Fable you who dare.

FABLE I.

EDINBURG: AT THE Apollo Press, BY THE MARTINS. Anno 1781.

THE LIFE OF EDWARD MOORE.

OF the life of this ingenious writer few particulars are known, and none respecting his descent, birth, education, or death; at least none which we have been able to discover.

Mr. Moore was bred a linendraper, but whether from a stronger attachment to the study than the counter, from a more ardent zeal in the pursuit of fame than in the search after fortune, or whether from the cause assigned by our Author himself in the Preface to the quarto edition of his works in 1756, that "his marriage with the Muses, like most other marriages into that noble family, was more from necessity than inclination," he quitted business to join the retinue of these ladies; and he certainly had a very happy and pleasant talent in poetry. In his Trial of Selim the Persian, which is a compliment to the first and worthy Lord Lyttelton, he has shewn himself a perfect master of the most elegant kind of panegyrick, that which is couched under the appearance of accusation; and his Fables for the Female Sex, not only in the freedom and ease of the verfification, but also in the forcibleness of the moral and poignancy of the satire, approach nearer to the manner of Mr. Gay than any of the numerous imitations of that author which have been attempted since the publication of his Fables.

As a dramatick writer Mr. Moore has by no means met with the success his pieces have merited, which are three in number, The Foundling and Gil Blas, comedies, and The Gamester, a tragedy. The first has been condemned for its supposed resemblance to the celebrated comedy of The Conscious Lovers; and The Gamester met with a cold reception for no other apparent reason but because it too nearly touched a favourite and fashionable vice[†]. Yet on the whole his plots are interesting, his characters well drawn, his sentiments delicate, and his language poetical and pleasing; and what crowns all and more forcibly claims for his Writings publick notice, the greatest purity pervades the whole, the obvious tendency of every piece being the promotion of morality and virtue; as is indeed observed by the Author himself in the Preface already referred to, when speaking of his Writings in general; "Such as the Work now is I submit it to the publick. Defects in it there are many.—Its merit (if it has any, and I may be allowed to name it) is its being natural and unaffected, and tending to promote virtue."

Mr. Moore married a lady of the name of Hamilton, daughter to the Tabledecker to the Princesses: she had a poetical turn, and has been said to have assisted her husband in the writing of his plays. One specimen of her poetry was handed about before their marriage, and has since appeared in different collections of songs. It was addressed to a daughter of the famous Stephen Duck, and begins with the following stanza:‘’ After half-a-dozen other stanzas, in which with great ingenuity and delicacy, and yet in a manner that expresses a sincere affection, she has quibbled on our Author's name, she concludes with the following lines:

You will wonder my Girl! who this dear one can be

Whose merit can boast such a conquest as me;

But you sh' n't know his name, tho' I told you before;

It begins with an M, but I dare not say More.

In the year 1753 Mr. Moore commenced a weekly miscellaneous paper entitled The World, by Adam Fitz-Adam, in which undertaking he was assisted by Lord Chesterfield and other distinguished characters. This paper was collected and published in four volumes; and Mr. Moore died soon thereafter.

Notes

†
The Gamester was also objected to as too prosaick in the language, and too horrible in the catastrophe, as observed and apologized for by the Author in his Preface to The Gamester, quarto edition of 1756.
↵

PREFACE.

MOST of the following Poems have already made their appearance in detached pieces, but as many of them were printed without a name I was advised by some particular friends to collect them into a volume and publish them by subscription. The painful task of soliciting such a subscription was chiefly undertaken by those friends, and with such spirit and zeal that I should be greatly wanting in gratitude if I neglected any opportunity either publick or private of making them my most sincere acknowledgments. I am also obliged to a very valuable friend in Ireland for a considerable number of subscribers in that kingdom, a list of whose names I have not been favoured with, and for which I was desired not to delay publication. I mention this seeming neglect that my friends on that side the water may not accuse me of any disrespect.

Such as the Work now is I submit it to the publick. Defects in it there are many, which I have wanted both time and abilities to amend as I could wish. Its merit (if it has any, and I may be allowed to name it) is its being natural and unaffected, and tending to promote virtue and good-humour. Those parts of it that have been published singly had the good fortune to please; those that are now added will I hope be no discredit to them. Upon the whole, I have sent this my offspring into the world in as decent a dress as I was able: a legitimate one I am sure it is; and if it should be thought defective in strength, spirit, or vigour, let it be considered that its father's marriage with the Muses, like most other marriages into that noble family, was more from necessity than inclination.

TO HIS GRACE THOMAS HOLLES, DUKE OF NEWCASTLE.

MY LORD,

HAD I the honour of being personally known to your Grace I had not thus presumptuously addressed you without previous solicitation for so great an indulgence; but that your Grace may neither be surprised nor offended at the liberty I am taking my plea is, that the great and good man whose name is prefixed to the first of these Poems was a friend and benefactor to me. The favours I have received at his hands, and the kind assurances he was pleased to give me of their continuance, which his death only prevented, have left me to lament my own private loss amidst the general concern. It is from these favours and assurances that I flatter myself with having a kind of privilege to address your Grace upon this occasion, and to entreat your patronage of the following sheets. I pretended to no merit with Mr. Pelham except that of honouring his virtues, and wishing to have been serviceable to them: I pretend to no other with your Grace. My hopes are, that while you are fulfilling every generous intention of the brother whom you loved your Grace will not think me unworthy of some small share of that notice with which he was once pleased to honour me.

I will not detain your Grace to echo back the voice of a whole people in favour of your just and prudent administration of publick affairs: that the salutary measures you are pursuing may be as productive of tranquillity and honour to your Grace as they are of happiness to these kingdoms is the sincere wish of,

MY LORD,
Your Grace's most humble, most obedient, and most devoted servant, EDWARD MOORE.
Tully's Head, Pall-Mall, Feb. 26th, 1756.

FABLES FOR THE LADIES.

FABLE I. THE EAGLE AND THE ASSEMBLY OF BIRDS.
To her Royal Highness THE PRINCESS OF WALES.

THE moral lay to beauty due

I write Fair Excellence! to you,

Wellpleas'd to hope my vacant hours

Have been employ'd to sweeten your's.

Truth under fiction I impart

To weed out folly from the heart,

And shew the paths that lead astray

The wand'ring nymph from Wisdom's way.

I flatter none: the great and good

Are by their actions understood:

Your monument if actions raise

Shall I deface by idle praise?

I echo not the voice of Fame

That dwells delighted on your name:

Her friendly tale, however true,

Were flatt'ry if I told it you.

The proud, the envious, and the vain,

The jilt, the prude, demand my strain:

To these detesting praise I write,

And vent in charity my spite:

With friendly hand I hold the glass

To all promisc'ous as they pass;

Should Folly there her likeness view

I fret not that the mirror 's true:

If the fantastick form offend

I made it not but would amend.

Virtue in ev'ry clime and age

Spurns at the folly-soothing page,

While satire that offends the ear

Of Vice and Passion pleases her.

Premising this your anger spare,

And claim the Fable you who dare.

The birds in place, by factions press'd,

To Jupiter their pray'rs address'd:

By specious lies the state was vex'd,

Their counsels libellers perplex'd;

They begg'd (to stop seditious tongues)

A gracious hearing of their wrongs.

Jove grants their suit. The Eagle sat

Decider of the grand debate.

The Pie, to trust and pow'r preferr'd,

Demands permission to be heard:

Says he, "Prolixity of phrase

"You know I hate. This libel says

"Some birds there are who prone to noise

"Are hir'd to silence Wisdom's voice,

"And skill'd to chatter out the hour

"Rise by their emptiness to pow'r.

"That this is aim'd direct at me

"No doubt you 'll readily agree;

"Yet well this sage assembly knows

"By parts to government I rose;

"My prudent counsels prop the state;

"Magpies were never known to prate."

The Kite rose up; his honest heart

In virtue's suff'rings bore a part.

"That there were birds of prey he knew,

"So far the libeller said true,

"Voracious, bold, to rapine prone,

"Who knew no int'rest but their own,

"Who hov'ring o'er the farmer's yard

"Nor pigeon, chick, nor duckling, spar'd:

"This might be true, but if apply'd

"To him, in troth the sland'rer ly'd:

"Since ign'rance then might be misled

"Such things he thought were best unsaid."

The Crow was vex'd: as yester-morn

He flew across the newsown corn

A screaming boy was set for pay

He knew to drive the crows away;

Scandal had found out him in turn,

And buzz'd abroad that crows love corn.

The Owl arose with solemn face,

And thus harangu'd upon the case:

"That Magpies prate it may be true,

"A Kite may be voracious too,

"Crows sometimes deal in newsown pease;

"He libels not who strikes at these:

"The slander 's here—"But there are birds

"Whose wisdom lies in looks not words,

"Blund'rers who level in the dark,

"And always shoot beside the mark.

"He names not me, but these are hints

"Which manifest at whom he squints;

"I were indeed that blund'ring fowl

"To question if he meant an owl."

"Ye Wretches hence!" the Eagle cries,

"'Tis conscience, conscience that applies;

"The virtuous mind takes no alarm,

"Secur'd by innocence from harm,

"While Guilt and his associate Fear

"Are startled at the passing air."

FABLE II. THE PANTHER, THE HORSE, AND OTHER BEASTS.

THE man who seeks to win the fair

(So custom says) must truth forbear,

Must fawn and flatter, cringe and lie,

And raise the goddess to the sky,

For truth is hateful to her ear,

A rudeness which she cannot bear.

A rudeness! yes: I speak my thoughts,

For Truth upbraids her with her faults.

How wretched Cloe! then am I

Who love you and yet cannot lie,

And still to make you less my friend

I strive your errours to amend!

But shall the senseless fop impart

The softest passion to your heart,

While he who tells you honest truth,

And points to happiness your youth,

Determines by his care his lot,

And lives neglected and forgot?

Trust me my Dear! with greater ease

Your taste for flatt'ry I could please,

And similies in each dull line

Like glow-worms in the dark should shine.

What if I say your lips disclose

The freshness of the op'ning rose?

Or that your cheeks are beds of flow'rs

Enripen'd by refreshing show'rs?

Yet certain as these flow'rs shall fade

Time ev'ry beauty will invade.

The butterfly of various hue

More than the flow'r resembles you,

Fair, flutt'ring, fickle, busy, thing,

To pleasure ever on the wing,

Gayly coquetting for an hour,

To die and n'er be thought of more!

Would you the bloom of youth should last?

'Tis virtue that must bind it fast,

An easy carriage, wholly free

From sour reserve or levity,

Goodnatur'd mirth, an open heart,

And looks unskill'd in any art,

Humility enough to own

The frailties which a friend makes known,

And decent pride enough to know

The worth that virtue can bestow.

These are the charms which ne'er decay

Tho' youth and beauty fade away;

And time which all things else removes

Still heightens virtue and improves.

You 'll frown and ask to what intent

This blunt address to you is sent?

I 'll spare the question, and confess

I 'd praise you if I lov'd you less;

But rail, be angry, or complain,

I will be rude while you are vain.

Beneath a lion's peaceful reign,

When beasts met friendly on the plain,

A Panther of majestick port,

(The vainest female of the court)

With spotted skin and eyes of fire,

Fill'd ev'ry bosom with desire:

Where'er she mov'd a servile crowd

Of fawning creatures cring'd and bow'd;

Assemblies ev'ry week she held,

(Like modern belles) with coxcombs fill'd,

Where noise, and nonsense, and grimace,

And lies and scandal, fill'd the place.

Behold the gay fantastick thing

Encircled by the spacious ring:

Low-bowing with important look

As first in rank the Monkey spoke.

"Gad take me Madam! but I swear

"No angel ever look'd so fair!

"Forgive my rudeness, but I vow

"You were not quite divine till now!

"Those limbs! that shape! and then those eyes!

"O! close them or the gazer dies!"

"Nay, gentle Pug! for goodness hush;

"I vow and swear you make me blush:

"I shall be angry at this rate;

"'Tis so like flatt'ry, which I hate."

The Fox, in deeper cunning vers'd,

The beauties of her mind rehears'd,

And talk'd of knowledge, taste, and sense,

To which the fair have vast pretence!

Yet well he knew them always vain

Of what they strive not to attain,

And play'd so cunningly his part

That Pug was rivall'd in his art.

The Goat avow'd his am'rous flame,

And burnt—for what he durst not name,

Yet hop'd a meeting in the wood

Might make his meaning understood.

Half angry at the bold address

She frown'd; but yet she must confess

Such beauties might inflame his blood;

But still his phrase was somewhat rude.

The Hog her neatness much admir'd,

The formal Ass her swiftness fir'd,

While all to feed her folly strove,

And by their praises shar'd her love.

The Horse, whose gen'rous heart disdain'd

Applause by servile flatt'ry gain'd,

With graceful courage silence broke,

And thus with indignation spoke:

"When flatt'ring Monkies fawn and prate

"They justly raise contempt or hate,

"For merit is turn'd to ridicule

"Applauded by the grinning fool.

"The artful Fox your wit commends

"To lure you to his selfish ends;

"From the vile flatt'rer turn away,

"For knaves make friendships to betray.

"Dismiss the train of fops and fools,

"And learn to live by wisdom's rules.

"Such beauties might the Lion warm

"Did not your folly break the charm;

"For who would court that lovely shape

"To be the rival of an Ape?"

He said, and snorting in disdain

Spurn'd at the crowd and sought the plain.

FABLE III. THE NIGHTINGALE AND GLOW-WORM.

THE prudent nymph whose cheeks disclose

The lily and the blushing rose

From publick view her charms will screen

And rarely in the crowd be seen;

This simple truth shall keep her wise,

"The fairest fruits attract the flies."

One night a Glow-worm, proud and vain,

Contemplating her glitt'ring train,

Cry'd, "Sure there never was in Nature

"So elegant so fine a creature!

"All other insects that I see,

"The frugal ant, industrious bee,

"Or silkworm, with contempt I view,

"With all that low mechanick crew

"Who servilely their lives employ

"In bus'ness, enemy to joy.

"Mean vulgar Herd! ye are my scorn;

"For grandeur only I was born,

"Or sure am sprung from race divine,

"And plac'd on earth to live and shine:

"Those lights that sparkle so on high

"Are but the Glow-worms of the sky,

"And kings on earth their gems admire

"Because they imitate my fire."

She spoke: attentive on a spray

A Nightingale forebore his lay;

He saw the shining morsel near,

And flew directed by the glare;

A while he gaz'd with sober look,

And thus the trembling prey bespoke:

"Deluded Fool! with pride elate,

"Know it is thy beauty brings thy fate;

"Less dazzling long thou might'st have lain

"Unheeded on the velvet plain.

"Pride soon or late degraded mourns,

"And Beauty wrecks whom she adorns."

FABLE IV. HYMEN AND DEATH.

SIXTEEN, d' ye say? Nay then it is time;

Another year destroys your prime.

But stay—The settlement! "That is made."

Why then is my simple girl afraid?

Yet hold a moment if you can,

And heedfully the fable scan.

The shades were fled, the morning blush'd,

The winds were in their caverns hush'd,

When Hymen, pensive and sedate,

Held o'er the fields his musing gait:

Behind him thro' the greenwood shade

Death's meagre form the god survey'd,

Who quickly with gigantick stride

Outwent his pace and join'd his side;

The chat on various subjects ran

Till angry Hymen thus began:

"Relentless Death! whose iron sway

"Mortals reluctant must obey,

"Still of thy pow'r shall I complain,

"And thy too partial hand arraign?

"When Cupid brings a pair of hearts

"All over stuck with equal darts,

"Thy cruel shafts my hopes deride,

"And cut the knot that Hymen ty'd.

"Shall not the bloody and the bold,

"The miser hoarding up his gold,

"The harlot reeking from the stew,

"Alone thy fell revenge pursue?

"But must the gentle and the kind

"Thy fury undistinguish'd find?"

The monarch calmly thus reply'd:

"Weigh well the cause and then decide.

"That friend of your's you lately nam'd,

"Cupid, alone is to be blam'd;

"Then let the charge be justly laid:

"That idle boy neglects his trade,

"And hardly once in twenty years

"A couple to your temple bears.

"The wretches whom your office blends

"Silenus now or Plutus sends,

"Hence care, and bitterness, and strife,

"Are common to the nuptial life.

"Believe me, more than all mankind

"Your vot'ries my compassion find;

"Yet cruel am I call'd and base

"Who seek the wretched to release,

"The captive from his bonds to free,

"Indissoluble but for me.

"'Tis I entice him to the yoke;

"By me your crowded altars smoke;

"For mortals boldly dare the noose,

"Secure that Death will set them loose.

FABLE V. THE POET AND HIS PATRON.

WHY Caelia! is your spreading waist

So loose, so negligently lac'd?

Why must the wrapping bedgown hide

Your snowy bosom's swelling pride?

How ill that dress adorns your head,

Distain'd and rumpled from the bed!

Those clouds that shade your blooming face

A little water might displace,

As Nature ev'ry morn bestows

The crystal dew to cleanse the rose;

Those tresses, as the raven black,

That wav'd in ringlets down your back,

Uncomb'd, and injur'd by neglect,

Destroy the face which once they deck'd.

Whence this forgetfulness of dress?

Pray Madam, are you marry'd? Yes.

Nay then indeed the wonder ceases;

No matter now how loose your dress is:

The end is won, your fortune's made,

Your sister now may take the trade.

Alas! what pity it is to find

This fault in half the female kind!

From hence proceed aversion, strife,

And all that sours the wedded life.

Beauty can only point the dart,

'Tis neatness guides it to the heart;

Let neatness then and beauty strive

To keep a wav'ring flame alive.

'Tis harder far (you'll find it true)

To keep the conquest than subdue:

Admit us once behind the screen

What is there farther to be seen?

A newer face may raise the flame,

But ev'ry woman is the same.

Then study chiefly to improve

The charm that fix'd your husband's love.

Weigh well his humour. Was it dress

That gave your beauty pow'r to bless?

Pursue it still; be neater seen;

'Tis always frugal to be clean:

So shall you keep alive desire,

And Time's swift wing shall fan the fire.

In garret high (as stories say)

A Poet sung his tuneful lay;

So soft so smooth his verse, you'd swear

Apollo and the Muses there.

Thro' all the Town his praises rung,

His sonnets at the playhouse sung;

High waving o'er his lab'ring head

The goddess Want her pinions spread,

And with poetick fury fir'd

What Phoebus faintly had inspir'd.

A noble youth of taste and wit

Approv'd the sprightly things he writ,

And sought him in his cobweb dome,

Discharg'd his rent and brought him home.

Behold him at the stately board,

Who but the Poet and my Lord!

Each day deliciously he dines,

And greedy quaffs the gen'rous wines;

His sides were plump, his skin was sleek,

And plenty wanton'd on his cheek;

Astonish'd at the change so new

Away th' inspiring goddess slew.

Now, dropt for politicks and news,

Neglected lay the drooping Muse;

Unmindful whence his fortune came,

He stifled the poetick flame;

Nor tale nor sonnet for my lady,

Lampoon nor epigram, was ready.

With just contempt his Patron saw,

(Resolv'd his bounty to withdraw)

And thus with anger in his look

The late-repenting fool bespoke:

"Blind to the good that courts thee grown,

"Whence has the sun of favour shone?

"Delighted with thy tuneful art,

"Esteem was growing in my heart,

"But idly thou reject'st the charm

"That gave it birth and kept it warm."

Unthinking fools alone despise

The arts that taught them first to rise.

FABLE VI. THE WOLF, THE SHEEP, AND THE LAMB.

DUTY demands the parent's voice

Should sanctify the daughter's choice;

In that is due obedience shown,

To chuse belongs to her alone.

May horrour seize his midnight hour

Who builds upon a parent'spow'r,

And claims by purchase vile and base

The loathing maid for his embrace!

Hence virtue sickens, and the breast

Where Peace had built her downy nest

Becomes the troubled seat of care,

And pines with anguish and despair.

A Wolf, rapacious, rough, and bold,

Whose nightly plunders thinn'd the fold,

Contemplating his illspent life,

And cloy'd with thefts, would take a wife.

His purpose known the savage race

In num'rous crowds attend the place,

For why, a mighty Wolf he was,

And held dominion in his jaws.

Her fav'rite whelp each mother brought,

And humbly his alliance sought;

But cold by age, or else too nice,

None found acceptance in his eyes.

It happen'd as at early dawn

He solitary cross'd the lawn,

Stray'd from the fold a sportive Lamb

Skipp'd wanton by her fleecy dam,

When Cupid, foe to man and beast,

Discharg'd an arrow at his breast.

The tim'rous breed the robber knew,

And trembling o'er the meadow flew;

Their nimblest speed the Wolf o'ertook,

And courteous thus the dam bespoke:

"Stay Fairest! and suspend your fear;

"Trust me no enemy is near:

"These jaws, in slaughter ost' imbru'd,

"At length have known enough of blood,

"And kinder bus'ness brings me now

"Vanquish'd at Beauty's feet to bow.

"You have a daughter—Sweet! forgive

"A Wolf's address.—In her I live;

"Love from her eyes like lightning came

"And set my marrow all on flame:

"Let your consent confirm my choice

"And ratify our nuptial joys.

"Me ample wealth and pow'r attend,

"Wide o'er the plains my realms extend;

"What midnight robber dare invade

"The fold if I the guard am made?

"At home the shepherd's cur may sleep

"While I secure his master's sheep."

Discourse like this attention claim'd;

Grandeur the mother's breast inflam'd:

Now fearless by his side she walk'd,

Of settlements and jointures talk'd,

Propos'd and doubled her demands

Of flow'ry fields and turnip lands.

The Wolf agrees; her bosom swells;

To Miss her happy fate she tells,

And of the grand alliance vain

Contemns her kindred of the plain.

The loathing Lamb with horrour hears,

And wearies out her dam with pray'rs;

But all in vain: mamma best knew

What unexperienc'd girls should do;

So to the neighb'ring meadow carry'd

A formal ass the couple marry'd.

Torn from the tyrant-mother's side

The trembler goes a victim-bride,

Reluctant meets the rude embrace,

And bleats among the howling race.

With horrour oft' her eyes behold

Her murder'd kindred of the fold;

Each day a sister Lamb is serv'd,

And at the glutton's table carv'd;

The crashing bones he grinds for food,

And slakes his thirst with streaming blood.

Love, who the cruel mind detests,

And lodges but in gentle breasts,

Was now no more: enjoyment past

The savage hunger'd for the feast;

But (as we find in human race

A mask conceals the villain's face)

Justice must authorize the treat;

Till then he long'd but durst not eat.

As forth he walk'd in quest of prey

The hunters met him on the way;

Fear wings his flight, the marsh he sought,

The snuffing dogs are set at fault.

His stomach balk'd now hunger gnaws,

Howling he grinds his empty jaws;

Food must be had and Lamb is nigh,

His maw invokes the fraudful lie.

"Is this," (dissembling rage) he cry'd,

"The gentle virtue of a bride,

"That leagu'd with man's destroying race

"She sets her husband for the chase,

"By treach'ry prompts the noisy hound

"To scent his footsteps on the ground?

"Thou trait'ress vile! for this thy blood

"Shall glut my rage and dye the wood."

So saying on the Lamb he flies;

Beneath his jaws the victim dies.

FABLE VII. THE GOOSE AND THE SWANS.

I HATE the face, however fair,

That carries an affected air:

The lisping tone, the shape constrain'd,

The study'd look, the passion feign'd,

Are fopperies which only tend

To injure what they strive to mend.

With what superiour grace enchants

The face which Nature's pencil paints,

Where eyes unexercis'd in art

Glow with the meaning of the heart,

Where freedom and good humour sit,

And easy gaiety and wit!

Tho' perfect beauty be not there,

The master lines, the finish'd air,

We catch from ev'ry look delight,

And grow enamour'd at the sight;

For beauty tho' we all approve

Excites our wonder more than love,

While the agreeable strikes sure,

And gives the wounds we cannot cure.

Why then my Amoret! this care

That forms you in effect less fair?

If Nature on your cheek bestows

A bloom that emulates the rose,

Or from some heav'nly image drew

A form Apelles never knew,

Your ill-judg'd aid will you impart,

And spoil by meretricious art?

Or had you, Nature's errour, come

Abortive from the mother's womb,

Your forming care she still rejects,

Which only heightens her defects.

When such, of glitt'ring jewels proud,

Still press the foremost in the crowd,

At ev'ry publick show are seen,

With look awry and awkward mien,

The gaudy dress attracts the eye

And magnifies deformity.

Nature may underdo her part,

But seldom wants the help of art:

Trust her, she is your surest friend,

Nor made your form for you to mend.

A Goose affected, empty, vain,

The shrillest of the cackling train,

With proud and elevated crest

Precedence claim'd above the rest.

Says she, "I laugh at human race,

"Who say Geese hobble in their pace:

"Look here! the sland'rous lie detect;

"Not haughty man is so erect.

"That peacock yonder, Lord! how vain

"The creature is of his gaudy train!

"If both were stript I 'd pawn my word

"A Goose would be the finer bird.

"Nature to hide her own defects

"Her bungled work with finery decks:

"Were Geese set off with half that show

"Would men admire the peacock? No."

Thus vaunting cross the mead she stalks,

The cackling breed attend her walks;

The sun shot down his noontide beams,

The Swans were sporting in the streams;

Their snowy plumes and stately pride

Provok'd her spleen. "Why there," she cry'd,

"Again what arrogance we see!

"Those creatures! how they mimick me!

"Shall ev'ry fowl the waters skim

"Because we Geese are known to swim?

"Humility they soon shall learn,

"And their own emptiness discern."

So saying, with extended wings

Lightly upon the wave she springs,

Her bosom swells, she spreads her plumes,

And the Swan's stately crest assumes.

Contempt and mockery ensu'd,

And bursts of laughter shook the flood.

A Swan superiour to the rest

Sprung forth, and thus the fool addrest:

"Conceited thing! elate with pride,

"Thy affectation all deride;

"These airs thy awkwardness impart,

"And shew thee plainly as thou art.

"Among thy equals of the flock

"Thou hadst escap'd the publick mock,

"And as thy parts to good conduce

"Been deem'd an honest hobbling Goose."

Learn hence to study wisdom's rules;

Know fopp'ry is the pride of fools;

And striving Nature to conceal

You only her defects reveal.

FABLE VIII. THE LAWYER AND JUSTICE.

LOVE! thou divinest good below,

Thy pure delights few mortals know;

Our rebel hearts thy sway disown,

While tyrant Lust usurps thy throne.

The bounteous God of Nature made

The sexes for each other's aid,

Their mutual talents to employ

To lessen ills and heighten joy.

To weaker woman he assign'd

That soft'ning gentleness of mind

That can by sympathy impart

Its likeness to the roughest heart,

Her eyes with magick pow'r endu'd,

To fire the dull and awe the rude;

His rosy fingers on her face

Shed lavish ev'ry blooming grace,

And stamp'd (perfection to display)

His mildest image on her clay.

Man, active, resolute, and bold,

He fashion'd in a diff'rent mould,

With useful arts his mind inform'd,

His breast with nobler passions warm'd;

He gave him knowledge, taste, and sense,

And courage for the fair's defence:

Her frame, resistless to each wrong,

Demands protection from the strong;

To man she flies when fear alarms

And claims the temple of his arms.

By Nature's author thus declar'd

The woman's sov'reign and her guard,

Shall man by treach'rous wiles invade

The weakness he was meant to aid?

While beauty, given to inspire

Protecting love and soft desire,

Lights up a wildfire in the heart,

And to its own breast points the dart,

Becomes the spoiler's base pretence

To triumph over innocence?

The wolf that tears the tim'rous sheep

Was never set the fold to keep,

Nor was the tiger or the pard

Meant the benighted trav'ller's guard;

But man, the wildest beast of prey,

Wears friendship's semblance to betray,

His strength against the weak employs,

And where he should protect destroys.

Past twelve o'clock the Watchman cry'd,

His brief the studious Lawyer ply'd,

The all-prevailing fee lay nigh,

The earnest of to-morrow's lie;

Sudden the furious winds arise,

The jarring casement shatter'd flies,

The doors admit a hollow sound,

And rattling from their hinges bound,

When Justice in a blaze of light

Reveal'd her radiant form to sight.

The wretch with thrilling horrour shook,

Loose ev'ry joint and pale his look.

Not having seen her in the courts,

Or found her mention'd in Reports,

He ask'd with falt'ring tongue her name,

Her errand there, and whence she came?

Sternly the white-rob'd Shade reply'd,

(A crimson glow her visage dy'd)

"Canst thou be doubtful who I am?

"Is Justice grown so strange a name?

"Were not your courts for Justice rais'd?

"'Twas there of old my altars blaz'd.

"My guardian thee did I elect

"My sacred temple to protect,

"That thou and all thy venal tribe

"Should spurn the goddess for the bribe?

"Aloud the ruin'd client cries

"Justice has neither ears nor eyes;

"In soul alliance with the bar

"'Gainst me the judge denounces war,

"And rarely issues his decree

"But with intent to baffle me."

She paus'd; her breast with fury burn'd;

The trembling Lawyer thus return'd:

"I own the charge is justly laid,

"And weak th' excuse that can be made;

"Yet search the spacious globe, and see

"If all mankind are not like me.

"The Gownman skill'd in Romish lies

"By faith's false glass deludes our eyes,

"O'er conscience rides without control,

"And robs the man to save his soul.

"The Doctor with important face

"By sly design mistakes the case,

"Prescribes, and spins out the disease

"To trick the patient of his fees.

"The Soldier, rough with many a scar,

"And red with slaughter, leads the war;

"If he a nation's trust betray

"The foe has offer'd double pay.

"When vice o'er all mankind prevails,

"And weighty int'rest turns the scales,

"Must I be better than the rest,

"And harbour Justice in my breast,

"On one side only take the fee,

"Content with poverty and thee?"

"Thou blind to sense and vile of mind!"

Th' exasperated Shade rejoin'd,

"If virtue from the world is flown

"Will others' frauds excuse thy own?

"For sickly souls the Priest was made,

"Physicians for the body's aid,

"The Soldier guarded liberty,

"Man woman, and the Lawyer me;

"If all are faithless to their trust

"They leave nor thee the less unjust.

"Henceforth your pleadings I disclaim,

"And bar the sanction of my name;

"Within your courts it shall be read

"That Justice from the Law is fled."

She spoke, and hid in shades her face

Till Hardwicke sooth'd her into grace.

FABLE IX. THE FARMER, THE SPANIEL, AND THE CAT.

WHY knits my dear her angry brow?

What rude offence alarms you now?

I said that Delia 's fair 't is true,

But did I say she equall'd you?

Cann't I another's face commend,

Or to her virtues be a friend,

But instantly your forehead lowers,

As if her merit lessen'd your's?

From female envy never free,

All must be blind because you see.

Survey the gardens, fields, and bow'rs,

The buds, the blossoms, and the flow'rs,

Then tell me where the woodbine grows

That vies in sweetness with the rose?

Or where the lily's snowy white

That throws such beauties on the sight?

Yet folly is it to declare

That these are neither sweet nor fair.

The crystal shines with fainter rays

Before the diamond's brighter blaze,

And fops will say the diamond dies

Before the lustre of your eyes;

But I who deal in truth deny

That neither shine when you are by.

When zephirs o'er the blossoms stray,

And sweets along the air convey,

Sha' n't I the fragrant breeze inhale

Because you breathe a sweeter gale?

Sweet are the flow'rs that deck the field,

Sweet is the smell the blossoms yield,

Sweet is the summer gale that blows,

And sweet, tho' sweeter you, the rose.

Shall envy then torment your breast

If you are lovelier than the rest?

For while I give to each her due

By praising them I flatter you,

And praising most I still declare

You fairest where the rest are fair.

As at his board a Farmer sat,

Replenish'd by his homely treat,

His fav'rite Spaniel near him stood,

And with his master shar'd the food;

The crackling bones his jaws devour'd,

His lapping tongue the trenchers scour'd,

Till sated now supine he lay,

And snor'd the rising fumes away.

The hungry Cat in turn drew near,

And humbly crav'd a servant's share;

Her modest worth the Master knew,

And straight the fatt'ning morsel threw;

Enrag'd the snarling Cur awoke,

And thus with spiteful envy spoke:

"They only claim a right to eat

"Who earn by services their meat:

"Me zeal and industry inflame

"To scour the fields and spring the game,

"Or plunging in the wintry wave

"For man the wounded bird to save.

"With watchful diligence I keep

"From prowling wolves his fleecy sheep,

"At home his midnight hours secure,

"And drive the robber from the door:

"For this his breast with kindness glows,

"For this his hand the food bestows;

"And shall thy indolence impart

"A warmer friendship to his heart,

"That thus he robs me of my due

"To pamper such vile things as you?"

"I own" (with meekness Puss reply'd)

"Superiour merit on your side,

"Nor does my breast with envy swell

"To find it recompens'd so well;

"Yet I in what my nature can

"Contribute to the good of man.

"Whose claws destroy the pilf'ring mouse?

"Who drives the vermin from the house?

"Or watchful for the lab'ring swain

"From lurking rats secures the grain?

"From hence if he rewards bestow

"Why should your heart with gall o'erflow?

"Why pine my happiness to see

"Since there 's enough for you and me?"

"Thy words are just," the Farmer cry'd,

"And spurn'd the snarler from his side.

FABLE X. THE SPIDER AND THE BEE.

THE nymph who walks the publick streets,

And sets her cap at all she meets,

May catch the fool who turns to stare,

But men of sense avoid the snare.

As on the margin of the flood

With silken line my Lydia stood,

I smil'd to see the pains you took

To cover o'er the fraudful hook.

Along the forest as we stray'd

You saw the boy his limetwigs spread;

Guess'd you the reason of his fear?

Lest heedless we approach too near,

Far as behind the bush we lay

The linnet flutter'd on the spray.

Needs there such caution to delude

The scaly fry and feather'd brood?

And think you with inferiour art

To captivate the human heart?

The maid who modestly conceals

Her beauties while she hides reveals;

Give but a glimpse and fancy draws

Whate'er the Grecian Venus was.

From Eve's first figleaf to brocade

All dress was meant for fancy's aid,

Which evermore delighted dwells

On what the bashful nymph conceals.

When Caelia struts in man's attire

She shews too much to raise desire,

But from the hoop's bewitching round

Her very shoe has pow'r to wound.

The roving eye, the bosom bare,

The forward laugh, the wanton air,

May catch the fop, for gudgeons strike

At the bare hook and bait alike,

While salmon play regardless by

Till art like nature forms the fly.

Beneath a peasant's homely thatch

A Spider long had held her watch;

From morn to night with restless care

She spun her web and wove her snare.

Within the limits of her reign

Lay many a heedless captive slain,

Or flutt'ring struggled in the toils

To burst the chains and shun her wiles.

A straying Bee that perch'd hard by

Beheld her with disdainful eye,

And thus began: "Mean Thing! give o'er,

"And lay thy slender threads no more;

"A thoughtless fly or two at most

"Is all the conquest thou canst boast,

"For Bees of sense thy arts evade,

"We see so plain the nets are laid.

"The gaudy tulip that displays

"Her spreading foliage to the gaze,

"That points her charms at all she sees,

"And yields to ev'ry wanton breeze,

"Attracts not me: where blushing grows

"Guarded with thorns the modest rose

"Enamour'd round and round I fly,

"Or on her fragrant bosom lie;

"Reluctant she my ardour meets,

"And bashful renders up her sweets.

"To wiser heads attention lend,

"And learn this lesson from a friend;

"She who with modesty retires

"Adds fuel to her lover's fires,

"While such incautious jilts as you

"By folly your own schemes undo."

FABLE XI. THE YOUNG LION AND THE APE.

'TIS true I blame your lover's choice

Tho' flatter'd by the publick voice,

And peevish grow and sick to hear

His exclamations, O how fair!

I listen not to wild delights

And transports of expected nights:

What is to me your hoard of charms,

The whiteness of your neck and arms?

Needs there no acquisition more

To keep contention from the door?

Yes; pass a fortnight and you'll find

All beauty cloys but of the mind.

Sense and good humour ever prove

The surest cords to fasten love;

Yet Phillis, simplest of your sex!

You never think but to perplex,

Coquetting it with ev'ry Ape

That struts abroad in human shape;

Not that the coxcomb is your taste,

But that it stings your lover's breast;

To-morrow you resign the sway,

Prepar'd to honour and obey,

The tyrant-mistress change for life

To the submission of a wife.

Your sollies if you can suspend,

And learn instruction from a friend.

Reluctant heat the first address,

Think often ere you answer Yes,

But once resolv'd throw off disguise,

And wear your wishes in your eyes:

With caution ev'ry look forbear

That might create one jealous fear,

A lover's ripening hopes confound,

Or give the gen'rous breast a wound;

Contemn the girlish arts to tease,

Nor use your pow'r unless to please,

For fools alone with rigour sway

When soon or late they must obey.

The King of brutes in life's decline

Resolv'd dominion to resign;

The beasts were summon'd to appear

And bend before the royal heir:

They came; a day was fix'd: the crowd

Before their future monarch bow'd.

A dapper Monkey pert and vain

Stepp'd forth and thus address'd the train:

"Why cringe my Friends! with slavish awe

"Before this pageant king of straw?

"Shall we anticipate the hour,

"And ere we feel it own his pow'r?

"The counsels of experience prize;

"I know the maxims of the wise:

"Subjection let us cast away,

"And live the monarchs of to-day;

"'Tis ours the vacant hand to spurn,

"And play the tyrant each in turn:

"So shall he right from wrong discern,

"And mercy from oppression learn,

"At others' woes be taught to melt,

"And loathe the ills himself has felt."

He spoke; his bosom swell'd with pride;

The youthful Lion thus reply'd:

"What madness prompts thee to provoke

"My wrath, and dare th' impending stroke?

"Thou wretched Fool! can wrongs impart

"Compassion to the feeling heart,

"Or teach the grateful breast to glow,

"The hand to give, or eye to flow?

"Learn'd in the practice of their schools

"From women thou hast drawn thy rules;

"To them return; in such a cause

"From only such expect applause:

"The partial sex I not condemn

"For liking those who copy them.

"Wouldst thou the gen'rous Lion bind?

"By kindness bribe him to be kind:

"Good offices their likeness get,

"And payment lessens not the debt:

"With multiplying hand he gives

"The good from others he receives,

"Or for the bad makes fair return,

"And pays with int'rest scorn for scorn."

FABLE XII. THE COLT AND THE FARMER.

TELL me Corinna, if you can,

Why so averse, so coy, to man?

Did Nature, lavish of her care,

From her best pattern form you fair

That you, ungrateful to her cause,

Should mock her gifts and spurn her laws,

And miser-like withhold that store

Which by imparting blesses more?

Beauty's a gift by Heav'n assign'd

The portion of the female kind;

For this the yielding maid demands

Protection at her lover's hands,

And tho' by wasting years it fade

Remembrance tells him once't was paid.

And will you then this wealth conceal

For age to rust or time to steal,

The summer of your youth to rove

A stranger to the joys of love?

Then when life's winter hastens on,

And youth's fair heritage is gone,

Dow'rless to court some peasant's arms

To guard your wither'd age from harms,

No gratitude to warm his breast

For blooming beauty once possest,

How will you curse that stubborn pride

Which drove your bark across the tide,

And sailing before folly's wind

Left sense and happiness behind?

Corinna, lest these whims prevail

To such as you I write my Tale.

A Colt for blood and mettled speed

The choicest of the running breed,

Of youthful strength and beauty vain

Refus'd subjection to the rein.

In vain the groom's officious skill

Oppos'd his pride and check'd his will,

In vain the master's forming care

Restrain'd with threats or sooth'd with pray'r;

Of freedom proud and scorning man

Wild o'er the spacious plains he ran.

Where'er luxuriant Nature spread

Her flow'ry carpet o'er the mead,

Or bubbling streams soft-gliding pass

To cool and freshen up the grass,

Disdaining bounds he cropp'd the blade,

And wanton'd in the spoil he made.

In plenty thus the summer past

Revolving winter came at last;

The trees no more a shelter yield,

The verdure withers from the field,

Perpetual snows infest the ground,

In icy chains the streams are bound,

Cold nipping winds and rattling hail

His lank unshelter'd sides assail.

As round he cast his rueful eyes

He saw the thatch'd-roof cottage rise;

The prospect touch'd his heart with cheer,

And promis'd kind deliv'rance near;

A stable, erst his scorn and hate,

Was now become his wish'd retreat:

His passion cool, his pride forgot,

A Farmer's welcome yard he sought.

The Master saw his woful plight,

His limbs that totter'd with his weight,

And friendly to the stable led,

And saw him litter'd, dress'd, and fed.

In slothful ease all night he lay;

The servants rose at break of day;

The market calls: along the road

His back must bear the pond'rous load:

In vain he struggles or complains,

Incessant blows reward his pains.

To-morrow varies but his toil;

Chain'd to the plough he breaks the soil,

While scanty meals at night repay

The painful labours of the day.

Subdu'd by toil, with anguish rent,

His selfupbraidings found a vent:

"Wretch that I am!" he sighing said,

"By arrogance and folly led,

"Had but my restive youth been brought

"To learn the lesson Nature taught

"Then had I like my sires of yore

"The prize from ev'ry courser bore,

"While man bestow'd rewards and praise,

"And females crown'd my latter days:

"Now lasting servitude 's my lot,

"My birth contemn'd my speed forgot:

"Doom'd am I for my pride to bear

"A living death from year to year."

FABLE XIII. THE OWL AND THE NIGHTINGALE.

TO know the mistress' humour right

See if her maids are clean and tight;

If Betty waits without her stays

She copies but her lady's ways;

When Miss comes in with boist'rous shout,

And drops no curtsy going out,

Depend upon 't mamma is one

Who reads or drinks too much alone.

If bottled beer her thirst assuage

She feels enthusiastick rage,

And burns with ardour to inherit

The gifts and workings of the spirit:

If learning crack her giddy brains

No remedy but death remains.

Sum up the various ills of life

And all are sweet to such a wife.

At home superiour wit she vaunts

And twits her husband with his wants;

Her ragged offspring all around

Like pigs are wallowing on the ground:

Impatient ever of control

She knows no order but of soul;

With books her litter'd floor is spread

Of nameless authors never read,

Foul linen, petticoats, and lace,

Fill up the intermediate space.

Abroad at visitings her tongue

Is never still, and always wrong;

All meanings she defines away,

And stands with truth and sense at bay.

If e'er she meets a gentle heart

Skill'd in the housewife's useful art,

Who makes her family her care,

And builds Contentment's temple there,

She starts at such mistakes in nature,

And cries, "Lord help us! what a creature!"

Melissa, if the moral strike

You'll find the Fable not unlike.

An Owl puss'd up with selfconceit

Lov'd learning better than his meat;

Old manuscripts he treasur'd up,

And rummag'd ev'ry grocer's shop;

At pastrycooks was known to ply,

And strip for science ev'ry pie.

For modern poetry and wit

He had read all that Blackmore writ;

So intimate with Curl was grown

His learned treasures were his own,

To all his authors had access,

And sometimes would correct the press.

In logick he acquir'd such knowledge

You'd swear him Fellow of a college;

Alike to ev'ry art and science

His daring genius bid defiance,

And swallow'd wisdom with that haste

That cits do custards at a feast.

Within the shelter of a wood

One ev'ning as he musing stood

Hard by upon a leafy spray

A Nightingale began his lay;

Sudden he starts with anger stung,

And screeching interrupts the song.

"Pert busy Thing! thy airs give o'er,

"And let my contemplation soar.

"What is the musick of thy voice

"But jarring dissonance and noise?

"Be wise: true harmony thou 'lt find

"Not in the throat but in the mind,

"By empty chirping not attain'd,

"But by laborious study gain'd.

"Go read the authors Pope explodes,

"Fathom the depth of Cibber's Odes,

"With modern plays improve thy wit,

"Read all the learning Henley writ,

"And if thou needs must sing sing then,

"And emulate the ways of men;

"So shalt thou grow like me refin'd,

"And bring improvement to thy kind."

"Thou Wretch!" the little Warbler cry'd,

"Made up of ignorance and pride,

"Ask all the birds, and they'll declare

"A greater blockhead wings not air.

"Read o'er thyself, thy talents scan;

"Science was only meant for man.

"No useless authors me molest,

"I mind the duties of my nest,

"With careful wing protect my young,

"And cheer their ev'nings with a song.

"Thus following Nature and her laws

"From men and birds I claim applause,

"While nurs'd in pedantry and sloth

"An Owl is scorn'd alike by both."

FABLE XIV. THE SPARROW AND THE DOVE.

IT was, as learn'd traditions say,

Upon an April's blithesome day

When Pleasure, ever on the wing,

Return'd companion of the Spring,

And cheer'd the birds with am'rous heat,

Instructing little hearts to beat,

A Sparrow, frolick, gay, and young,

Of bold address and flippant tongue,

Just left his lady of a night,

Like him to follow new delight.

The youth of many a conquest vain

Flew off to seek the chirping train,

The chirping train he quickly found,

And with a saucy ease bow'd round.

For ev'ry she his bosom burns,

And this and that he wooes by turns;

And here a sigh and there a bill,

And here—"Those eyes, so form'd to kill!"

And now with ready tongue he strings

Unmeaning soft resistless things,

With vows and Demme's skill'd to woo

As other pretty fellows do:

Not that he thought this short essay

A prologue needful to his play;

No: trust me, says our learned letter,

He knew the virtuous sex much better;

But these he held as specious arts

To shew his own superiour parts,

The form of decency to shield,

And give a just pretence to yield.

Thus finishing his courtly play

He mark'd the fav'rite of the day,

With careless impudence drew near

And whisper'd Hebrew in her ear,

A hint which like the Mason's sign

The conscious can alone divine.

The flutt'ring nymph, expert at feigning,

Cry'd "Sir!—pray Sir, explain your meaning—

"Go prate to those that may endure ye—

"To me this rudeness!—I'll assure ye—"

Then off she glided like a swallow,

As saying—You guess where to follow.

To such as know the party set

'Tis needless to declare they met;

The Parson's barn, as authors mention,

Confess'd the fair had apprehension:

Her honour there secute from stain

She held all farther trifling vain,

No more affected to be coy,

But rush'd licentious on the joy.

"Hist, Love!" the male companion cry'd,

"Retire a while; I fear we 're spy'd."

Nor was the caution vain; he saw

A Turtle rustling in the straw,

While o'er her callow brood she hung,

And fondly thus address'd her young:

"Ye tender objects of my care!

"Peace, peace, ye little helpless pair!

"Anon he comes your gentle sire,

"And brings you all your hearts require.

"For us his infants and his bride,

"For us, with only love to guide,

"Our lord assumes an eagle's speed,

"And like a lion dares to bleed:

"Nor yet by wintry skies confin'd

"He mounts upon the rudest wind,

"From danger tears the vital spoil,

"And with affection sweetens toil.

"Ah cease, too vent'rous! cease to dare;

"In thine our dearer safety spare!

"From him ye cruel Falcons! stray,

"And turn ye Fowlers! far away.

"Should I survive to see the day

"That tears me from myself away,

"That cancels all that Heav'n could give,

"The life by which alone I live,

"Alas! how more than lost were I,

"Who in the thought already die!

"Ye Pow'rs! whom men and birds obey,

"Great Rulers of your creatures! say

"Why mourning comes by bliss convey'd,

"And ev'n the sweets of love allay'd?

"Where grows enjoyment tall and fair

"Around it twines entangling care,

"While fear for what our souls possess

"Enervates ev'ry pow'r to bless;

"Yet friendship forms the bliss above,

"And Life! what art thou without love?"

Our hero, who had heard apart,

Felt something moving in his heart,

But quickly with disdain supprest

The virtue rising in his breast,

And first he seign'd to laugh aloud,

And next approaching smil'd and bow'd.

"Madam, you must not think me rude,

"Good manners never can intrude;

"I vow I come thro' pure good nature—

"(Upon my soul a charming creature!)

"Are these the comforts of a wife?

"This careful cloister'd moping life?

"No doubt that odious thing call'd Duty

"Is a sweet province for a beauty.

"Thou pretty Ignorance! thy will

"Is measur'd to thy want of skill;

"That good oldfashion'd dame thy mother

"Has taught thy infant years no other.

"The greatest ill in the creation

"Is sure the want of education.

"But think ye—tell me without feigning,

"Have all these charms no farther meaning?

"Dame Nature, if you do n't forget her,

"Might teach your Ladyship much better.

"For shame! reject this mean employment;

"Enter the world and taste enjoyment,

"Where time by circling bliss we measure;

"Beauty was form'd alone for pleasure:

"Come, prove the blessing; follow me:

"Be wise, be happy, and be free."

"Kind Sir!" reply'd our matron chaste,

"Your zeal seems pretty much in haste.

"I own the fondness to be blest

"Is a deep thirst in ev'ry breast;

"Of blessings too I have my store,

"Yet quarrel not should Heav'n give more;

"Then prove the change to be expedient,

"And think me Sir your most obedient."

Here turning as to one inferiour

Our gallant spoke, and smil'd superiour.

"Methinks to quit your boasted station

"Requires a world of hesitation:

"Where brats and bonds are held a blessing

"The case I doubt is past redressing.

"Why Child! suppose the joys I mention

"Were the mere fruits of my invention,

"You 'ave cause sufficient for your carriage

"In flying from the curse of marriage,

"That sly decoy with vary'd snares

"That takes your widgeon in by pairs,

"Alike to husband and to wife

"The cure of love and bane of life,

"The only method of forecasting

"To make misfortune firm and lasting,

"The sin by Heav'n's peculiar sentence

"Unpardon'd thro' a life's repentance:

"It is the double snake that weds

"A common tail to diff'rent heads,

"That leads the carcass still astray

"By dragging each a diff'rent way.

"Of all the ills that may attend me

"From marriage mighty Gods! de••nd me.

"Give me frank Nature's wild demesne,

"And boundless track of air serene,

"Where fancy ever wing'd for change

"Delights to sport, delights to range;

"There Liberty! to thee is owing

"Whate'er of bliss is worth bestowing;

"Delights still vary'd and divine

"Sweet goddess of the Hills! are thine.

"What say you now, you pretty pink you!

"Have I for once spoke reason think you?

"You take me now for no romancer—

"Come, never study for an answer:

"Away, cast ev'ry care behind ye,

"And fly where joy alone shall find ye."

"Soft yet," return'd our female fencer,

"A question more or so—and then Sir.

"You 'ave raily'd me with sense exceeding,

"With much fine wit and better breeding,

"But pray Sir, how do you contrive it?

"Do those of your world never wive it?"

"No no." "How then?" "Why, dare I tell;

"What does the bus'ness full as well."

"Do you ne'er love?" "An hour at leisure."

"Have you no friendships?" "Yes, for pleasure."

"No care for little ones?" "We get 'em;

"The rest the mothers mind, and let 'em;"

"Thou Wretch! rejoin'd the kindling Dove,

"Quite lost to life as lost to love,

"Whene'er misfortune comes how just!

"And come misfortune surely must:

"In the dread season of dismay,

"In that your hour of trial, say

"Who then shall prop your sinking heart,

"Who bear affliction's weightier part?

"Say, when the blackbrow'd welkin bends,

"And winter's gloomy form impends,

"To mourning turns all transient cheer,

"And blasts the melancholy year,

"For times at no persuasion stay,

"Nor vice can find perpetual May,

"Then where 's that tongue by folly fed,

"That soul of pertness whither fled?

"All shrunk within thy lonely nest,

"Forlorn, abandon'd, and unblest,

"No friend by cordial bonds ally'd

"Shall seek thy cold unsocial side,

"No chirping prattlers to delight

"Shall turn the long-enduring night,

"No bride her words of balm impart,

"And warm thee at her constant heart.

"Freedom restrain'd by reason's force

"Is as the sun's unvarying course,

"Benignly active, sweetly bright,

"Affording warmth, affording light,

"But torn from virtue's sacred rules

"Becomes a comet gaz'd by fools,

"Foreboding cares, and storms, and strife,

"And fraught with all the plagues of life.

"Thou Fool! by union ev'ry creature

"Subsists thro' universal Nature,

"And this to beings void of mind

"Is wedlock of a meaner kind.

"While womb'd in space primeval clay

"A yet unfashion'd embryo lay,

"The Source of endless good above

"Shot down his spark of kindling love;

"Touch'd by the allenliv'ning flame

"Then motion first exulting came,

"Each atom sought its sep'rate class

"Thro' many a fair enamour'd mass;

"Love cast the central charm around,

"And with eternal nuptials bound:

"Then form and order o'er the sky

"First train'd their bridal pomp on high,

"The sun display'd his orb to sight

"And burnt with hymeneal light.

"Hence Nature's virgin-womb conceiv'd,

"And with the genial burden heav'd;

"Forth came the oak, her firstborn heir,

"And seal'd the breathing steep of air;

"Then infant stems of various use

"Imbib'd her soft maternal juice;

"The flow'rs in early bloom disclos'd

"Upon her fragrant breast repos'd;

"Within her warm embraces grew

"A race of endless form and hue;

"Then pour'd her lesser offspring round,

"And fondly cloth'd their parent ground.

"Nor here alone the virtue reign'd

"By matter's cumb'ring form detain'd,

"But thence subliming and refin'd

"Aspir'd, and reach'd its kindred Mind;

"Caught in the fond celestial fire

"The mind perceiv'd unknown desire,

"And now with kind effusion flow'd,

"And now with cordial ardours glow'd,

"Beheld the sympathetick fair,

"And lov'd its own resemblance there,

"On all with circling radiance shone,

"But centring fix'd on one alone,

"There clasp'd the heav'n-appointed wife,

"And doubled ev'ry joy of life.

"Here ever blessing ever blest

"Resides this beauty of the breast,

"As from his palace here the god

"Still beams effulgent bliss abroad,

"Here gems his own eternal round,

"The ring by which the world is bound,

"Here bids his seat of empire grow,

"And builds his little heav'n below.

"The bridal partners thus ally'd,

"And thus in sweet accordance ty'd,

"One body, heart, and spirit, live,

"Enrich'd by ev'ry joy they give,

"Like Echo from her vocal hold

"Return'd in musick twenty fold;

"Their union firm and undecay'd

"Nor time can shake nor pow'r invade,

"But as the stem and scion stand

"Ingrasted by a skilful hand,

"They check the tempest's wintry rage,

"And bloom and strengthen into age;

"A thousand amities unknown,

"And pow'rs perceiv'd by love alone,

"Endearing looks and chaste desire

"Fan and support the mutual fire,

"Whose flame perpetual as refin'd

"Is fed by an immortal mind.

"Nor yet the nuptial sanction ends,

"Like Nile it opens and descends,

"Which by apparent windings led

"We trace to its celestial head.

"The sire fiist springing from above

"Becomes the source of life and love,

"And gives his filial heir to flow

"In fondness down on sons below:

"Thus roll'd in one continu'd tide

"To time's extremest verge they glide,

"While kindred streams on either hand

"Branch forth in blessings o'er the land.

"Thee Wretch! no lisping babe shall name,

"No late-returning brother claim,

"No kinsman on thy road rejoice,

"No sister greet thy ent'ring voice,

"With partial eyes no parents see,

"And bless their years restor'd in thee.

"In age rejected or declin'd,

"An alien ev'n among thy kind,

"The partner of thy scorn'd embrace

"Shall play the wanton in thy face,

"Each spark unplume thy little pride,

"All friendship fly thy faithless side,

"Thy name shall like thy carcass rot,

"In sickness spurn'd, in death forgot.

"Allgiving Pow'r! great Source of life!

"O hear the parent! hear the wife!

"That life thou lendest from above

"Tho' little make it large in love;

"O bid my feeling heart expand

"To ev'ry claim on ev'ry hand!

"To those from whom my days I drew,

"To these in whom those days renew,

"To all my kin, however wide,

"In cordial warmth as blood ally'd,

"To friends with steely fetters twin'd,

"And to the cruel not unkind!

"But chief the lord of my desire,

"My life, myself, my soul, my sire,

"Friends, children, all that wish can claim,

"Chaste passion clasp and rapture name,

"O spare him, spare him, gracious Pow'r!

"O give him to my latest hour!

"Let me my length of life employ

"To give my sole enjoyment joy!

"His love let mutual love excite,

"Turn all my cares to his delight,

"And ev'ry needless blessing spare

"Wherein my darling wants a share!

"When he with graceful action wooes,

"And sweetly bills and fondly cooes,

"Ah! deck me to his eyes alone

"With charms attractive as his own,

"And in my circling wings carest

"Give all the lover to my breast;

"Then in our chaste connubial bed,

"My bosom pillow'd for his head,

"His eyes with blissful slumbers close,

"And watch with me my lord's repose,

"Your peace around his temples twine,

"And love him with a love like mine!

"And for I know his gen'rous flame

"Beyond whate'er my sex can claim,

"Me too to your protection take,

"And spare me for my husband's sake.

"Let one unrustled calm delight

"The loving and belov'd unite,

"One pure desire our bosoms warm,

"One will direct, one wish inform,

"Thro' life one mutual aid sustain,

"In death one peaceful grave contain."

While swelling with the darling theme

Her accents pour'd an endless stream,

The wellknown wings a sound impart

That reach'd her ear and touch'd her heart;

Quick dropt the musick of her tongue,

And forth with eager joy she sprung;

As swift her ent'ring consort flew,

And plum'd and kindled at the view;

Their wings their souls embracing meet,

Their hearts with answ'ring measure beat,

Half lost in sacred sweets, and bless'd

With raptures felt but ne'er express'd.

Straight to her humble roof she led

The partner of her spotless bed;

Her young, a flutt'ring pair, arise,

Their welcome sparkling in their eyes;

Transported to their sire they bound,

And hang with speechless action round:

In pleasure wrapt the parents stand,

And see their little wings expand;

The sire his life-sustaining prize

To each expecting bill applies,

There fondly pours the wheaten spoil,

With transport giv'n tho' won with toil,

While all collected at the sight,

And silent thro' supreme delight,

The fair high heav'n of bliss beguiles,

And on her lord and infants smiles.

The Sparrow, whose attention hung

Upon the Dove's enchanting tongue,

Of all his little sleights disarm'd,

And from himself by virtue charm'd,

〈1 page duplicate〉 〈1 page duplicate〉

When now he saw what only seem'd

A fact so late a fable deem'd,

His soul to envy he resign'd,

His hours of folly to the wind,

In secret wish'd a Turtle too,

And sighing to himself withdrew.

FABLE XV. THE FEMALE SEDUCERS.

'TIS said of widow, maid, and wife,

That honour is a woman's life:

Unhappy Sex! who only claim

A being in the breath of Fame,

Which tainted not the quick'ning gales

That sweep Sabaea's spicy vales

Nor all the healing sweets restore

That breathe along Arabia's shore.

The trav'ller if he chance to stray

May turn uncensur'd to his way;

Polluted streams again are pure,

And deepest wounds admit a cure;

But Woman no redemption knows;

The wounds of honour never close!

Tho' distant ev'ry hand to guide,

Nor skill'd on life's tempestuous tide,

If once her feeble bark recede,

Or deviate from the course decreed,

In vain she seeks the friendless shore,

Her swifter folly flies before,

The circling ports against her close,

And shut the wand'rer from repose,

Till by conflicting waves opprest

Her found'ring pinnace sinks to rest.

Are there no off'rings to atone

For but a single errour? None.

Tho' Woman is avow'd of old

No daughter of celestial mould,

Her temp'ring not without allay,

And form'd but of the finer clay,

We challenge from the mortal dame

The strength angelick natures claim;

Nay more; for sacred stories tell

That ev'n immortal angels fell.

Whatever fills the teeming sphere

Of humid earth and ambient air

With varying elements endu'd

Was form'd to fall and rise renew'd.

The stars no fix'd duration know,

Wide oceans ebb again to flow,

The moon repletes her waining face

All beauteous from her late disgrace,

And suns that mourn approaching night

Refulgent rise with newborn light.

In vain may death and time subdue

While Nature mints her race anew,

And holds some vital spark apart,

Like virtue hid in ev'ry heart;

'Tis hence reviving warmth is seen

To clothe a naked world in green;

No longer barr'd by winter's cold

Again the gates of life unfold,

Again each insect tries his wing,

And lifts fresh pinions on the spring,

Again from ev'ry latent root

The bladed stem and tendril shoot,

Exhaling incense to the skies

Again to perish and to rise.

And must weak Woman then disown

The change to which a world is prone,

In one meridian brightness shine,

And ne'er like ev'ning suns decline,

Resolv'd and firm alone?—Is this

What we demand of Woman?—Yes.

But should the spark of Vestal fire

In some unguarded hour expire,

Or should the nightly thief invade

Hesperia's chaste and sacred shade,

Of all the blooming spoil possest

The dragon Honour charm'd to rest,

Shall virtue's flame no more return,

No more with virgin splendour burn,

No more the ravag'd garden blow

With spring's succeeding blossom?—No:

Pity may mourn but not restore,

And Woman falls to rise no more.

Within this sublunary sphere

A country lies—no matter where,

The clime may readily be found

By all who tread poetick ground:

A stream call'd Life across it glides,

And equally the land divides,

And here of Vice the province lies,

And there the hills of Virtue rise.

Upon a mountain's airy stand,

Whose summit look'd to either land,

An ancient pair their dwelling chose

As well for prospect as repose;

For mutual faith they long were fam'd,

And Temp'rance and Religion nam'd.

A num'rous progeny divine

Confess'd the honours of their line,

But in a little daughter fair

Was centred more than half their care,

For Heav'n to gratulate her birth

Gave signs of future joy to earth:

White was the robe this infant wore,

And Chastity the name she bore.

As now the maid in stature grew,

(A flow'r just op'ning to the view)

Oft' thro' her native land she stray'd,

And wrestling with the lambkins play'd;

Her looks diffusive sweets bequeath'd,

The breeze grew purer as she breath'd,

The morn her radiant blush assum'd,

The spring with earlier fragrance bloom'd,

And Nature yearly took delight

Like her to dress the world in white.

But when her rising form was seen

To reach the crisis of fifteen,

Her parents up the mountain's head

With anxious step their darling led;

By turns they snatch'd her to their breast,

And thus the fears of age exprest:

"O joyful cause of many a care!

"O Daughter too divinely fair!

"Yon' world on this important day

"Demands thee to a dang'rous way;

"A painful journey all must go,

"Whose doubtful period none can know,

"Whose due direction who can find

"Where reason 's mute and sense is blind?

"Ah, what unequal leaders these

"Thro' such a wide perplexing maze!

"Then mark the warnings of the wise,

"And learn what love and years advise.

"Far to the right thy prospect bend

"Where yonder tow'ring hills ascend;

"Lo! there the arduous paths in view

"Which Virtue and her sons pursue,

"With toil o'er less'ning earth they rise,

"And gain and gain upon the skies:

"Narrow is the way her children tread,

"No walk for pleasure smoothly spread,

"But rough, and difficult, and steep,

"Painful to climb, and hard to keep.

"Fruits immature those lands dispense,

"A food indelicate to sense,

"Of taste unpleasant; yet from those

"Pure health with cheerful vigour •lows,

"And strength unfeeling of decay

"Thro'out the long laborious way.

"Hence as they scale that heav'nly road

"Each limb is lighten'd of its load,

"From earth refining still they go,

"And leave the mortal weight below,

"Then spreads the straight, the doubtful clears,

"And smooth the rugged path appears,

"For custom turns fatigue to ease,

"And taught by Virtue pain can please.

"At length the toilsome journey o'er,

"And near the bright celestial shore,

"A gulf black, fearful, and profound,

"Appears, of either world the bound,

"Thro' darkness leading up to light,

"Sense backward shrinks and shuns the sight;

"For there the transitory train

"Of Time, and Form, and Care, and Pain,

"And Matter's gross incumb'ring mass,

"Man's late associates, cannot pass,

"But sinking quit th' immortal charge

"And leave the wond'ring soul at large,

"Lightly she wings her obvious way,

"And mingles with eternal day.

"Thither, O thither wing thy speed

"Tho' pleasure charm or pain impede!

"To such th' all-bounteous Pow'r has giv'n

"For present earth a future heav'n,

"For trivial loss unmeasur'd gain,

"And endless bliss for transient pain.

"Then fear, ah! fear to turn thy sight

"Where yonder flow'ry fields invite;

"Wide on the left the pathway bends,

"And with pernicious ease descends;

"There sweet to sense and fair to show

"New-planted Edens seem to blow,

"Trees that delicious poison bear,

"For death is vegetable there.

"Hence is the frame of health unbrac'd,

"Each sinew slack'ning at the taste,

"The soul to passion yields her throne,

"And sees with organs not her own,

"While like the slumb'rer in the night,

"Pleas'd with the shadowy dream of light,

"Before her alienated eyes

"The scenes of Fairyland arise,

"The puppet world's amusing show

"Dipp'd in the gayly-colour'd bow,

"Sceptres, and wreaths, and glitt'ring things,

"The toys of infants and of kings,

"That tempt along the baneful plain

"The idly wise and lightly vain,

"Till verging on the gulfy shore

"Sudden they sink and rise no more.

But list to what thy Fates declare:

"Tho' thou art Woman frail as fair

"If once thy sliding foot should stray,

"Once quit yon' heav'n-appointed way,

"For thee, lost Maid! for thee alone

"Nor pray'rs shall plead nor tears atone;

"Reproach, scorn, infamy, and hate,

"On thy returning steps shall wait,

"Thy form be loath'd by ev'ry eye,

"And ev'ry foot thy presence fly."

Thus arm'd with words of potent sound,

Like guardian angels plac'd around,

A charm by truth divinely cast,

Forward our young advent'rer past.

Forth from her sacred eyelids sent,

Like Morn, forerunning radiance went,

While Honour, handmaid late assign'd,

Upheld her lucid train behind.

Awestruck the much-admiring crowd

Before the virgin vision bow'd,

Gaz'd with an ever-new delight,

And caught fresh virtues at the sight;

For not of earth's unequal frame

They deem'd the heav'n-compounded dame,

If matter sure the most refin'd,

High wrought and temper'd into mind,

Some darling daughter of the Day,

And body'd by her native ray.

Where'er she passes thousands bend,

And thousands where she moves attend;

Her ways observant eyes confess,

Her steps pursuing praises bless,

While to the elevated Maid

Oblations as to Heav'n are paid.

'Twas on an ever-blithesome day,

The jovial birth of rosy May,

When genial warmth no more supprest

New-melts the frost in ev'ry breast,

The cheek with secret flusbing dyes

And looks kind things from chastest eyes,

The sun with healthier visage glows,

Aside his clouded kerchief throws,

And dances up th' ethereal plain

Where late he us'd to climb with pain,

While Nature as from bonds set free

Springs out, and gives a loose to glee.

And now for momentary rest

The Nymph her travell'd step represt,

Just turn'd to view the stage attain'd,

And glory'd in the height she gain'd.

Outstretch'd before her wide survey

The realms of sweet perdition lay,

And pity touch'd her soul with wo

To see a world so lost below,

When straight the breeze began to breathe

Airs gently wasted from beneath

That bore commission'd witchcraft thence

And reach'd her sympathy of sense;

No sounds of discord, that disclose

A people sunk and lost in woes,

But as of present good possess'd,

The very triumph of the bless'd:

The Maid in wrapt attention hung

While thus approaching Sirens sung:

"Hither Fairest! hither haste,

"Brightest Beauty! come and taste

"What the pow'rs of bliss unfold,

"Joys too mighty to be told;

"Taste what ecstasies they give,

"Dying raptures taste, and live.

"In thy lap, disdaining measure,

"Nature empties all her treasure,

"Soft desires that sweetly languish,

"Fierce delights that rise to anguish.

"Fairest! dost thou yet delay?

"Brightest Beauty! come away.

"List not when the froward chide,

"Sons of Pedantry and Pride,

"Snarlers to whose feeble sense

"April sunshine is offence;

"Age and Envy will advise

"Ev'n against the joy they prize.

"Come, in pleasures balmy bowl

"Slake the thirstings of thy soul,

"Till thy raptur'd pow'rs are fainting

"With enjoyment past the painting.

"Fairest! dost thou yet delay?

"Brightest Beauty! come away."

So sung the Sirens, as of yore

Upon the false Ausonian shore;

And O for that preventing chain

That bound Ulysses on the main!

That so our fair one might withstand

The covert ruin now at hand.

The song her charm'd attention drew

When now the tempters stood in view;

Curiosity with prying eyes

And hands of busy bold emprise;

Like Hermes feather'd were her feet,

And like forerunning fancy fleet;

By search untaught, by toil untir'd,

To novelty she still aspir'd,

Tasteless of ev'ry good possest,

And but in expectation blest.

With her associate Pleasure came,

Gay Pleasure, frolick-loving dame!

Her mien all swimming in delight,

Her beauties half reveal'd to sight,

Loose flow'd her garments from the ground

And caught the kissing winds around:

As erst Medusa's looks were known

To turn beholders into stone,

A dire reversion here they felt,

And in the eye of Pleasure melt:

Her glance with sweet persuasion charm'd,

Unnerv'd the strong the steel'd disarm'd,

No safety ev'n the flying find

Who vent'rous look but once behind.

Thus was the much-admiring Maid

While distant more than half betray'd.

With smiles and adulation bland

They join'd her side and seiz'd her hand:

Their touch envenom'd sweets instill'd,

Her frame with new pulsations thrill'd,

While half consenting half denying,

Reluctant now and now complying,

Amidst a war of hopes and fears,

Of trembling wishes smiling tears,

Still down and down the winning pair

Compell'd the struggling yielding fair.

As when some stately vessel, bound

To blest Arabia's distant ground,

Borne from her courses haply lights

Where Barca's flow'ry clime invites,

Conceal'd around whose treach'rous land

Lurk the dire rock and dang'rous sand,

The pilot warns with sail and oar

To shun the much suspected shore,

In vain; the tide too subtly strong

Still bears the wrestling bark along,

Till sound'ring she resigns to Fate

And sinks o'erwhelm'd with all her freight:

So baffling ev'ry bar to sin,

And Heav'n's own pilot plac'd within,

Along the devious smooth descent,

With pow'rs increasing as they went,

The dames accustom'd to subdue

As with a rapid current drew,

And o'er the fatal bounds convey'd

The lost the long-reluctant maid.

Here stop ye Fair Ones! and beware,

Nor send your fond affections there,

Yet, yet your darling, now deplor'd,

May turn, to you and Heav'n restor'd;

Till then with weeping Honour wait,

The servant of her better fate,

With Honour, left upon the shore,

Her friend and handmaid now no more;

Nor with the guilty world upbraid

The fortunes of a wretch betray'd,

But o'er her failing cast the veil,

Rememb'ring you yourselves are frail.

And now from all-inquiring light

Fast fled the conscious shades of night;

The Damsel from a short repose

Confounded at her plight arose.

As when with slumb'rous weight opprest

Some wealthy miser sinks to rest

Where felons eye the glitt'ring prey

And steal his hoard of joys away,

He borne where golden Indus streams

Of pearl and quarry'd diamond dreams,

Like Midas turns the glebe to oar,

And stands all wrapt amidst his store,

But wakens naked and despoil'd

Of that for which his years had toil'd:

So far'd the Nymph, her treasure flown,

And turn'd like Niobe to stone;

Within, without, obscure and void,

She felt all ravag'd all destroy'd:

And, "O thou curs'd insidious coast!

"Are these the blessings thou canst boast?

"These Virtue! these the joys they find

"Who leave thy heav'n-topt hills behind?

"Shade me ye Pines! ye Caverns! hide,

"Ye Mountains! cover me," she cry'd.

Her trumpet Slander rais'd on high

And told the tidings to the sky,

Contempt discharg'd a living dart,

A sidelong viper, to her heart,

Reproach breath'd poisons o'er her face,

And soil'd and blasted ev'ry grace,

Officious Shame, her handmaid new,

Still turn'd the mirror to her view,

While those in crimes the deepest dy'd

Approach'd to whiten at her side,

And ev'ry lewd insulting dame

Upon her folly rose to fame.

What should she do? attempt once more

To gain the late-deserted shore?

So trusting, back the mourner flew,

As fast the train of fiends pursue.

Again the farther shore's attain'd,

Again the land of Virtue gain'd,

But Echo gathers in the wind

And shows her instant foes behind.

Amaz'd, with headlong speed she tends

Where late she left a host of friends;

Alas! those shrinking friends decline,

Nor longer own that form divine,

With fear they mark the following cry,

And from the lonely trembler fly,

Or backward drive her on the coast

Where Peace was wreck'd and Honour lost.

From earth thus hoping aid in vain,

To Heav'n not daring to complain,

No truce by hostile Clamour giv'n,

And from the face of Friendship driv'n,

The Nymph sunk prostrate on the ground

With all her weight of woes around.

Enthron'd within a circling sky

Upon a mount o'er mountains high

All radiant sat as in a shrine

Virtue, first effluence divine,

Far, far above the scenes of wo

That shut this cloud-wrapt world below;

Superiour goddess, essence bright,

Beauty of uncreated light!

Whom should Mortality survey,

As doom'd upon a certain day,

The breath of Frailty must expire,

The world dissolve in living fire,

The gems of heav'n and solar flame

Be quench'd by her eternal beam,

And Nature quick'ning in her eye

To rise a newborn phenix die.

Hence unreveal'd to mortal view

A veil around her form she threw

Which three sad sisters of the shade,

Pain, Care, and Melancholy, made.

Thro' this her all-inquiring eye

Attentive from her station high

Beheld abandon'd to despair

The ruins of her fav'rite Fair,

And with a voice whose awful sound

Appall'd the guilty world around

Bid the tumultuous winds be still;

To numbers bow'd each list'ning hill,

Uncurl'd the surging of the main,

And smooth'd the thorny bed of pain,

The golden harp of heav'n she strung,

And thus the tuneful goddess sung:

"Lovely Penitent! arise,

"Come and claim thy kindred skies;

"Come, thy sister angels say

"Thou hast wept thy stains away.

"Let experience now decide

"'Twixt the good and evil try'd:

"In the smooth enchanted ground

"Say, unfold the treasures found.

"Structures rais'd by morning dreams,

"Sands that trip the flitting streams,

"Down that anchors on the air,

"Clouds that paint their changes there;

"Seas that smoothly dimpling lie

"While the storm impends on high,

"Showing in an obvious glass

"Joys that in possession pass:

"Transient, fickle, light, and gay,

"Flatt'ring only to betray,

"What alas! can life contain?

"Life like all its circles vain!

"Will the stork intending rest

"On the billow build her nest?

"Will the bee demand his store

"From the bleak and bladeless shore?

"Man alone intent to stray

"Ever turns from Wisdom's way,

"Lays up wealth in foreign land,

"Sows the sea and ploughs the sand.

"Soon this elemental mass,

"Soon th' incumb'ring world, shall pass,

"Form be wrapt in wasting fire,

"Time be spent and life expire.

"Then ye boasted Works of men!

"Where is your asylum then?

"Sons of Pleasure, sons of Care,

"Tell me Mortals! tell me where?

"Gone like traces on the deep,

"Like a sceptre grasp'd in sleep,

"Dews exhal'd from morning glades,

"Melting snows and gliding shades.

"Pass the world and what 's behind?

"Virtue 's gold by fire refin'd,

"From an universe deprav'd,

"From the wreck of Nature, sav'd;

"Like the life-supporting grain,

"Fruit of patience and of pain,

"On the swain's autumnal day

"Winnow'd from the chaff away.

"Little Trembler! fear no more,

"Thou hast plenteous crops in store,

"Seed by genial sorrows sown,

"More than all thy scorners own.

"What tho' hostile earth despise?

"Heav'n beholds with gentler eyes;

"Heav'n thy friendless steps shall guide,

"Cheer thy hours and guard thy side.

"When the fatal trump shall sound,

"When th' immortals pour around,

"Heav'n shall thy return attest,

"Hail'd by myriads of the blest.

"Little native of the skies,

"Lovely Penitent! arise;

"Calm thy bosom clear thy brow,

"Virtue is thy sister now.

"More delightful are my woes

"Than the rapture pleasure knows,

"Richer far the weeds I bring

"Than the robes that grace a king.

"On my wars of shortest date

"Crowns of endless triumphs wait,

"On my cares a period blest,

"On my toils eternal rest.

"Come, with Virtue at thy side;

"Come, be ev'ry bar desy'd

"Till we gain our native shore:

"Sister come, and turn no more."

FABLE XVI. LOVE AND VANITY.

THE breezy morning breath'd perfume,

The wak'ning flow'rs unveil'd their bloom,

Up with the sun from short repose

Gay Health and lusty Labour rose,

The milkmaid caroll'd at her pail,

And shepherds whistled o'er the dale,

When Love, who led a rural life

Remote from bustle, state, and strife,

Forth from his thatch'd-roof cottage stray'd,

And stroll'd along the dewy glade.

A nymph who lightly tripp'd it by

To quick attention turn'd his eye;

He mark'd the gesture of the fair,

Her selfsufficient grace and air,

Her steps that mincing meant to please,

Her study'd negligence and ease,

And curious to inquire what meant

This thing of prettiness and paint,

Approaching spoke, and bow'd observant;

The lady slightly, Sir, your servant.

"Such beauty in so rude a place!

"Fair one, you do the country grace!

"At court no doubt the publick care;

"But Love has small acquaintance there."

"Yes, Sir," reply'd the flutt'ring dame,

"This form confesses whence it came;

"But dear variety you know

"Can make us pride and pomp forego.

"My name is Vanity; I sway

"The utmost islands of the sea;

"Within my court all honour centers;

"I raise the meanest soul that enters,

"Endow with latent gifts and graces,

"And model fools for posts and places.

"As Vanity appoints at pleasure

"The world receives its weight and measure;

"Hence all the grand concerns of life,

"Joys, cares, plagues, passions, peace, and strife.

"Reflect how far my pow'r prevails

"When I step in where nature fails,

"And ev'ry breach of sense repairing

"Am bounteous stiil where Heav'n is sparing.

"But chief in all their arts and airs,

"Their playing, painting, pouts, and pray'rs,

"Their various habits and complexions,

"Fits, frolicks, foibles, and perfections,

"Their robing, curling, and adorning,

"From noon to night from night to morning,

"From six to sixty, sick or sound,

"I rule the female world around."

"Hold there a moment," Cupid cry'd,

"Nor boast dominion quite so wide;

"Was there no province to invade

"But that by Love and Meekness sway'd?

"All other empire I resign,

"But be the sphere of Beauty mine:

"For in the downy lawn of rest

"That opens on a woman's breast,

"Attended by my peaceful train,

"I chuse to live and chuse to reign.

"Farsighted Faith I bring along,

"And Truth, above an army strong,

"And Chastity, of icy mould,

"Within the burning tropicks cold,

"And Lowliness, to whose mild brow

"The pow'r and pride of nations bow,

"And Modesty, with downcast eye,

"That lends the Morn her virgin dye,

"And Innocence, array'd in light,

"And Honour, as a tow'r upright,

"With sweetly winning Graces more

"Than poets ever dreamt of yore,

"In unaffected conduct free,

"All smiling sisters three times three,

"And rosy Peace, the cherub blest,

"That nightly sings us all to rest.

"Hence from the bud of Nature's prime,

"From the first step of infant Time,

"Woman, the world's appointed light,

"Has skirted ev'ry shade with white,

"Has stood for imitation high

"To ev'ry heart and ev'ry eye,

"From ancient deeds of fair renown

"Has brought her bright memorials down,

"To Time affix'd perpetual youth,

"And form'd each tale of love and truth.

"Upon a new Promethean plan

"She moulds the essence of a man,

"Tempers his mass, his genius fires,

"And as a better soul inspires.

"The rude she softens, warms the cold,

"Exalts the meek and checks the bold,

"Calls Sloth from his supine repose,

"Within the coward's bosom glows,

"Of Pride unplumes the lofty crest,

"Bids bashful Merit stand confest,

"And like coarse metal from the mines

"Collects, irradiates, and refines.

"The gentle science she imparts,

"All manners smooths, informs all hearts;

"From her sweet influence are felt

"Passions that please and thoughts that melt;

"To stormy rage she bids control,

"And sinks serenely on the soul,

"Softens Deucalion's flinty race,

"And tunes the warring world to peace.

"Thus arm'd to all that 's light and vain,

"And freed from thy fantastick chain,

"She fills the sphere by Heav'n assign'd,

"And rul'd by me o'errules mankind."

He spoke; the nymph impatient stood,

And laughing thus her speech renew'd:

"And pray Sir, may I be so bold

"To hope your pretty tale is told?

"And next demand, without a cavil,

"What new Utopia do you travel?

"Upon my word these highflown fancies

"Shew depth of learning—in romances.

"Why, what unfashion'd stuff you tell us

"Of buckram dames and tiptoe fellows!

"Go Child! and when you 're grown maturer

"You 'll shoot your next opinion surer.

"O such a pretty knack at painting!

"And all for soft'ning and for sainting!

"Guess now who can a single feature

"Thro' the whole piece of female nature!

"Then mark! my looser hand may fit

"The lines too coarse for Love to hit.

"'Tis said that woman, prone to changing,

"Thro' all the rounds of folly ranging,

"On life's uncertain ocean riding,

"No reason, rule, nor rudder, guiding,

"Is like the comet's wand'ring light,

"Eccentrick, ominous, and bright,

"Trackless and shifting as the wind,

"A sea whose fathom none can find,

"A moon still changing and revolving,

"A riddle past all human solving,

"A bliss, a plague, a heav'n, a hell,

"A—something which no man can tell.

"Now learn a secret from a friend,

"But keep your counsel, and attend.

"Tho' in their tempers thought so distant,

"Nor with their sex nor selves consistent,

"'Tis but the diff'rence of a name

"And ev'ry woman is the same:

"For as the world, however vary'd,

"And thro' unnumber'd changes carry'd,

"Of elemental modes and forms,

"Clouds, meteors, colours, calms, and storms,

"Tho' in a thousand suits array'd,

"Is of one subject matter made;

"So, Sir, a woman's constitution,

"The world's enigma, finds solution,

"And let her form be what you will

"I am the subject essence still.

"With the first spark of female sense

"The speck of being I commence,

"Within the womb make fresh advances,

"And dictate future qualms and fancies,

"Thence in the growing form expand,

"With Childhood travel hand in hand,

"And give a taste to all their joys

"In gewgaws, rattles, pomp, and noise.

"And now familiar and unaw'd

"I send the flutt'ring soul abroad;

"Prais'd for her shape, her face, her mien,

"The little goddess and the queen

"Takes at her infant shrine oblation,

"And drinks sweet draughts of adulation.

"Now blooming, tall, erect, and fair,

"To dress becomes her darling care;

"The realms of beauty then I bound,

"I swell the hoop's enchanted round,

"Shrink in the waist's descending size,

"Heav'd in the snowy bosom rise,

"High on the floating lappit sail,

"Or curl'd in tresses kiss the gale:

"Then to her glass I lead the fair,

"And shew the lovely idol there,

"Where, struck as by divine emotion,

"She bows with most sincere devotion,

"And numb'ring ev'ry beauty o'er

"In secret bids the world adore.

"Then all for parking and parading,

"Coquetting, dancing, masquerading,

"For balls, plays, courts, and crowds, what passion!

"And churches sometimes—if the fashion;

"For woman's sense of right and wrong

"Is rul'd by the almighty throng,

"Still turns to each meander tame,

"And swims the straw of ev'ry stream;

"Her soul intrinsick worth rejects,

"Accomplish'd only in defects;

"Such excellence is her ambition,

"Folly her wisest acquisition,

"And ev'n from pity and disdain

"She 'll cull some reason to be vain.

"Thus, Sir, from ev'ry form and feature,

"The wealth and wants of female nature,

"And ev'n from vice, which you 'd admire,

"I gather fuel to my fire,

"And on the very base of shame

"Erect my monument of fame.

"Let me another truth attempt

"Of which your godship has not dreamt.

"Those shining virtues which you muster

"Whence think you they derive their lustre?

"From native honour and devotion?

"O yes, a mighty likely notion!

"Trust me from titled dames to spinners

"'Tis I make saints whoe'er make sinners,

"'Tis I instruct them to withdraw,

"And hold presumptuous man in awe;

"For female worth as I inspire

"In just degrees still mounts the higher,

"And virtue so extremely nice

"Demands long toil and mighty price;

"Like Samson's pillars, fix'd elate,

"I bear the fex's tott'ring state;

"Sap these, and in a moment's space

"Down sinks the fabrick to its base.

"Alike from titles and from toys

"I spring the fount of female joys,

"In ev'ry widow, wife, and miss,

"The sole artificer of bliss:

"For them each tropick I explore,

"I cleave the sand of ev'ry shore;

"To them uniting India's sail

"Sabaea breathes her farthest gale;

"For them the bullion I refine,

"Dig sense and virtue from the mine,

"And from the bowels of invention

"Spin out the various arts you mention.

"Nor bliss alone my pow'rs bestow,

"They hold the sov'reign balm of wo;

"Beyond the Stoick's boasted art

"I footh the heavings of the heart,

"To pain give splendour and relief,

"And gild the pallid face of Grief.

"Alike the palace and the plain

"Admit the glories of my reign:

"Thro' ev'ry age, in ev'ry nation,

"Taste, talents, tempers, state, and station,

"Whate'er a woman says I say,

"Whate'er a woman spends I pay;

"Alike I fill and empty bags,

"Flutter in finery and rags,

"With light coquettes thro' folly range,

"And with the prude disdain to change.

"And now you 'd think 'twixt you and I

"That things were ripe for a reply—

"But soft, and while I 'm in the mood

"Kindly permit me to conclude,

"Their utmost mazes to unravel,

"And touch the farthest step they travel.

"When ev'ry pleasure 's run aground,

"And Folly tir'd thro' many a round,

"The nymph conceiving discontent hence

"May ripen to an hour's repentance,

"And vapours shed in pious moisture

"Dismiss her to a church or cloister;

"Then on I lead her with devotion

"Conspicuous in her dress and motion,

"Inspire the heav'nly breathing air,

"Roll up the lucid eye in pray'r,

"Soften the voice, and in the face

"Look melting harmony and grace.

"Thus far extends my friendly pow'r,

"Nor quits her in her latest hour;

"The couch of decent pain I spread,

"In form recline her languid head,

"Her thoughts I methodise in death,

"And part not with her parting breath;

"Then do I set in order bright

"A length of fun'ral pomp to sight,

"The glitt'ring tapers and attire,

"The plumes that whiten o'er her bier,

"And last presenting to her eye

"Angelick fineries on high,

"To scenes of painted bliss I waft her,

"And form the heav'n she hopes hereaster."

"In truth," rejoin'd Love's gentle god,

"You 'ave gone a tedious length of road,

"And strange, in all the toilsome way

"No house of kind refreshment lay,

"No nymph whose virtues might have tempted

"To hold her from her sex exempted."

"For one we 'll never quarrel man;

"Take her and keep her if you can:

"And pleas'd I yield to your petition,

"Since ev'ry fair by such permission

"Will hold herself the one selected,

"And so my system stands protected."

"O deaf to virtue, deaf to glory,

"To truths divinely vouch'd in story!"

The godhead in his zeal return'd,

And kindling at her malice burn'd;

Then sweetly rais'd his voice, and told

Of heav'nly nymphs rever'd of old,

Hypsipile who sav'd her sire,

And Portia's love approv'd by fire,

Alike Penelope was quoted,

Nor laurel'd Daphne pass'd unnoted,

Nor Laodamia's fatal garter,

Nor fam'd Lucretia, honour's martyr,

Alceste's voluntary steel,

And Cath'rine smiling on the wheel.

But who can hope to plant conviction

Where cavil grows on contradiction?

Some she evades or disavows,

Demurs to all, and none allows;

A kind of ancient things call'd fables!

And thus the goddess turn'd the tables.

Now both in argument grew high,

And choler flash'd from either eye;

Nor wonder each refus'd to yield

The conquest of so fair a field.

When happily arriv'd in view

A goddess whom our grandams knew,

Of aspect grave and sober gait,

Majestick, awful, and sedate,

As heav'n's autumnal eve serene

When not a cloud o'ercasts the scene,

Once Prudence call'd, a matron fam'd,

And in old Rome Cornelia nam'd.

Quick at a venture both agree

To leave their strife to her decree.

And now by each the facts were stated

In form and manner as related:

The case was short: they crav'd opinion

Which held o'er females chief dominion?

When thus the goddess answ'ring mild,

First shook her gracious head and smil'd:

"Alas! how willing to comply,

"Yet how unfit a judge am I!

"In times of golden date it is true

"I shar'd the fickle sex with you,

"But from their presence long precluded,

"Or held as one whose form intruded,

"Full fifty annual suns can tell

"Prudence has bid the sex farewell."

In this dilemma what to do,

Or who to think of, neither knew;

For both, still biass'd in opinion,

And arrogant of sole dominion,

Were forc'd to hold the case compounded,

Or leave the quarrel where they found it.

When in the nick a rural fair

Of inexperienc'd gait and air,

Who ne'er had cross'd the neighb'ring lake,

Nor seen the world beyond a wake,

With cambrick coif and kerchief clean

Tript lightly by them o'er the green.

"Now, now!" cry'd Love's triumphant child,

And at approaching conquest smil'd,

"If Vanity will once be guided

"Our diff'rence may be soon decided:

"Behold yon' wench, a fit occasion

"To try your force of gay persuasion:

"Go you while I retire aloof,

"Go, put those boasted pow'rs to proof,

"And if your prevalence of art

"Transcends my yet unerring dart

"I give the fav'rite contest o'er,

"And ne'er will boast my empire more."

At once so said and so consented,

And well our goddess seem'd contented,

Nor pausing made a moment's stand,

But tript, and took the girl in hand.

Mean-while the godhead unalarm'd,

As one to each occasion arm'd,

Forth from his quiver cull'd a dart

That erst had wounded many a heart,

Then bending drew it to the head;

The bowstring twang'd, the arrow fled,

And to her secret soul addrest

Transfix'd the whiteness of her breast.

But here the dame, whose guardian care

Had to a moment watch'd the fair,

At once her pocket mirror drew,

And held the wonder full in view;

As quickly rang'd in order bright

A thousand beauties rush to sight,

A world of charms till now unknown,

A world reveal'd to her alone,

Enraptur'd stands the lovesick maid

Suspended o'er the darling shade,

Here only fixes to admire,

And centres ev'ry fond desire.

ODES.

THE DISCOVERY, AN ODE.
TO THE RIGHT HON. HENRY PELHAM.

—"Vir bonus est quis?"

HOR.

I.

TAKE wing my Muse! from shore to shore

Fly, and that happy place explore

Where Virtue deigns to dwell;

If yet she treads on British ground

Where can the fugitive be found,

In city, court, or cell?

II.

Not there where wine and srantick mirth

Unite the sensual sons of earth

In Pleasure's thoughtless train,

Nor yet where sanctity 's a show,

Where souls nor joy nor pity know

For human bliss or pain.

III.

Her social heart alike disowns

The race who shunning crowds and thrones

In shades sequester'd doze,

Whose sloth no gen'rous care can wake,

Who rot like weeds on Lethe's lake

In senseless vile repose.

IV.

With these she shuns the factious tribe

Who spurn the yet unoffer'd bribe

And at Corruption lower,

Waiting till Discord Havock cries,

In hopes like Catiline to rise

On anarchy to pow'r!

V.

Ye Wits! who boast from ancient times

A right divine to scourge our crimes,

Is it with you she rests?

No; int'rest, slander, are your views,

And Virtue now with ev'ry Muse

Flies your unhallow'd breasts.

VI.

There was a time, I heard her say,

Ere females were seduc'd by play,

When Beauty was her throne;

But now where dwelt the Soft Desires

The Furies light forbidden fires

To Love and her unknown.

VII.

From these th' indignant goddess flies,

And where the spires of Science rise

A while suspends her wing,

But pedant Pride and Rage are there,

And Faction tainting all the air

And pois'ning ev'ry spring.

VIII.

Long thro' the sky's wide pathless way

The Muse observ'd the wand'rer stray

And mark'd her last retreat;

O'er Surry's barren heaths she flew,

Descending like the silent dew

On Esher's peaceful seat.

IX.

There she beholds the gentle Mole

His pensive waters calmly roll

Amidst Elysian ground;

There thro' the windings of the grove

She leads her family of Love,

And strews her sweets around.

X.

I hear her bid the daughters fair

Oft' to yon' gloomy grot repair

Her secret steps to meet;

"Nor thou," she cries, "these shades forsake,

"But come, lov'd Consort! come and make

"The husband's bliss complete."

XI.

Yet not too much the soothing ease

Of rural indolence shall please

My Pelham's ardent breast:

The man whom Virtue calls her own

Must stand the pillar of a throne

And make a nation blest.

XII.

Pelham! it is thine with temp'rate zeal

To guard Britannia's publick weal,

Attack'd on ev'ry part:

Her fatal discords to compose,

Unite her friends, disarm her foes,

Demands thy head and heart.

XIII.

When bold Rebellion shook the land,

Ere yet from William's dauntless hand

Her barb'rous army fled;

When Valour droop'd and Wisdom fear'd

Thy voice expiring Credit heard,

And rais'd her languid head.

XIV.

Now by thy strong assisting hand

Fix'd on a rock I see her stand,

Against whose solid feet

In vain thro' ev'ry future age

The loudest most tempestuous rage

Of angry War shall beat.

XV.

And grieve not if the sons of strife

Attempt to cloud thy spotless life

And shade its brightest scenes;

Wretches! by kindness unsubdu'd,

Who see who share the common good,

Yet cavil at the means.

XVI.

Like these the metaphysick crew,

Proud to be singular and new,

Think all they see deceit,

Are warm'd and cherish'd by the day,

Feel and enjoy the heav'nly ray,

Yet doubt of light and heat.

ODE, TO GARRICK, UPON THE TALK OF THE TOWN.

When I said I would die a bachelor I did not think I should live till I were married.

MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING.

I.

NO, no; the left-hand box in blue:

There! do n't you see her?—"See her! Who?"

Nay hang me if I tell.

There's Garrick in the musick-box!

Watch but his eyes: see there!—"O pox!

"Your servant, Ma'moiselle."

II.

But tell me David, is it true?

Lord help us! what will some solks do?

How will they curse this stranger!

What! fairly taken in for life!

A sober, serious, wedded wife!

O fy upon you Ranger!

III.

The clergy too have join'd the chat:

"A Papist!—Has he thought of that?

"Or means he to convert her?"

Troth Boy! unless your zeal be stout

The nymph may turn your faith about

By arguments experter.

IV.

The ladies, pale and out of breath,

Wild as the witches in Macbeth,

Ask if the deed be done?

O David! listen to my lay,

I 'll prophesy the things they 'll say;

For tongues you know will run.

V.

"And pray what other newsd' ye hear?

"Marry'd!—But do n't you think my Dear!

"He 's growing out of fashion?

"People may fancy what they will,

"But Quin 's the only actor still

"To touch the tender passion.

VI.

"Nay, Madam, did you mind last night

"His Archer? not a line on 't right!

"I thought I heard some hisses.

"Good God! if Billy Mills thought I,

"Or Billy Havard, would but try

"They 'd beat him all to pieces.

VII.

"'Twas prudent tho' to drop his Bayes—

"And (entre nous) the Laureate says

"He hopes he 'll give up Richard:

"But then it tickles me to see

"In Hastings such a shrimp as he

"Attempt to ravish Pritchard.

VIII.

"The fellow pleas'd me well enough

"In—what d' ye call it? Hoadley's stuff;

"There 's something there like nature:

"Just so in life he runs about,

"Plays at bopeep, now in now out,

"But hurts no mortal creature.

IX.

"And then there 's Belmont to be sure—

"O ho! my gentle Neddy Moore!

"How does my good Lord Mayor?

"And have you left Cheapside my Dear!

"And will you write again next year

"To shew your fav'rite player?

X.

"But Merope we own is fine;

"Eumenes charms in ev'ry line;

"How prettily he vapours!

"So gay his dress, so young his look,

"One would have sworn 't was Mr. Cook,

"Or Mathews cutting capers."

XI.

Thus, David, will the ladies flout,

And councils hold at ev'ry rout

To alter all your plays;

Yates shall be Benedict next year,

Macklin be Richard, Taswell Lear,

And Kitty Clive be Bayes.

XII.

Two parts they readily allow

Are your's, but not one more they vow,

And thus they close their spite:

You will be Sir John Brute they say,

A very Sir John Brute all day

And Fribble all the night.

XIII.

But tell me Fair Ones! is it so?

You all did love him once [*] we know;

What then provokes your gall?

Forbear to rail—I 'll tell you why;

Quarrels may come or Madam die,

And then there 's hope for all.

XIV.

And now a word or two remains

Sweet Davy! and I close my strains.

Think well ere you engage;

Vapours and ague-fits may come,

And matrimonial claims at home

Unnerve you for the stage.

XV.

But if you find your spirits right,

Your mind at ease and body tight,

Take her; you cann't do better:

A pox upon the tattling Town!

The fops that join to cry her down

Would give their ears to get her.

XVI.

Then if her heart be good and kind,

(And sure that face bespeaks a mind

As soft as woman's can be)

You 'll grow as constant as a dove,

And taste the purer sweets of love

Unvisited by Ranby.

Notes

*
Julius Caesar.
↵

MISCELLANIES.

THE TRIAL OF SELIM THE PERSIAN, FOR DIVERS HIGH CRIMES AND MISDEMEANOURS.

THE court was met, the pris'ner brought,

The council with instructions fraught,

And evidence prepar'd at large

On oath to vindicate the charge.

But first it is meet where form denies

Poetick helps of fancy'd lies,

Gay metaphors and figures fine,

And similies to deck the line,

'Tis meet (as we before have said)

To call description to our aid.

Begin we then (as first it is fitting)

With the three Chiefs in judgment sitting.

Above the rest, and in the chair,

Sat Faction with dissembled air;

Her tongue was skill'd in specious lies

And murmurs, whence dissensions rise,

A smiling mask her features veil'd,

Her form the patriot's robe conceal'd,

With study'd blandishments she bow'd,

And drew the captivated crowd.

The next in place, and on the right,

Sat Envy, hideous to the sight!

Her snaky locks, her hollow eyes

And haggard form forbad disguise;

Pale discontent and sullen hate

Upon her wrinkled forehead sat,

Her left-hand clench'd her cheek sustain'd,

Her right (with many a murder stain'd)

A dagger clutch'd, in act to strike

With starts of rage and aim oblique.

Last on the left was Clamour seen,

Of stature vast and horrid mien;

With bloated cheeks and frantick eyes

She sent her yellings to the skies,

Prepar'd with trumpet in her hand

To blow sedition o'er the land.

With these four more of lesser fame

And humbler rank attendant came,

Hypocrisy with smiling grace,

And Impudence with brazen face,

Contention bold with iron lungs,

And Slander with her hundred tongues.

The walls in sculptur'd tale were rich,

And statues proud (in many a nich)

Of chiefs who fought in Faction's cause,

And perish'd for contempt of laws:

The roof in vary'd light and shade

The seat of Anarchy display'd:

Triumphant o'er a falling throne

(By emblematick figures known)

Confusion rag'd and Lust obscene,

And Riot with distemper'd mien,

And Outrage bold and Mischief dire,

And Devastation clad in fire:

Prone on the ground a martial maid

Expiring lay and groan'd for aid,

Her shield with many a stab was pierc'd,

Her laurels torn, her spear revers'd,

And near her crouch'd amidst the spoils

A lion panted in the toils.

With look compos'd the pris'ner stood

And modest pride: by turns he view'd

The court, the council, and the crowd,

And with submissive rev'rence bow'd.

Proceed we now in humbler strains

And lighter rhymes with what remains.

Th' indictment grievously set forth

That Selim, lost to patriot worth,

(In company with one Will P—tt,

And many more not taken yet)

In Forty-five the royal palace

Did enter, and to shame grown callous

Did then and there his faith forsake,

And did accept, receive, and take,

With mischievous intent and base,

Value unknown, a certain place.

He was a second time indicted

For that, by evil zeal excited,

With learning more than layman's share

(Which parsons want and he might spare)

In Letter to one Gilbert West

He the said Selim did attest,

Maintain, support, and make assertion,

Of certain points from Paul's Conversion,

By means whereof the said apostle

Did many an unbeliever jostle,

Starting unfashionable fancies,

And building truths on known romances.

A third charge ran, that knowing well

Wits only eat as pamphlets sell,

He the said Selim notwithstanding

Did fall to answ'ring, shaming, branding,

Three curious Letters to the Whigs,

Making no reader care three figs

For any facts contain'd therein,

By which uncharitable sin

An author modest and deserving

Was destin'd to contempt and starving,

Against the king, his crown and peace,

And all the statutes in that case.

The pleader rose with brief full charg'd,

And on the pris'ner's crimes enlarg'd—

But not to damp the Muse's fire

With rhet'rick such as courts require,

We'll try to keep the reader warm,

And sift the matter from the form.

Virtue and social love he said,

And honour, from the land were fled;

That patriots now like other folks

Were made the butt of vulgar jokes,

While Opposition dropp'd her crest,

And courted pow'r for wealth and rest;

Why some folks laugh'd and some folks rail'd,

Why some submitted some assail'd,

Angry or pleas'd—all solv'd the doubt

With who were in and who were out;

The sons of Clamour grew so sickly

They look'd for dissolution quickly;

Their Weekly Journals, finely written,

Were sunk in privies all besh—n,

Old England and the London Evening

Hardly a soul was found believing in,

And Caleb, once so bold and strong,

Was stupid now and always wrong.

Ask ye whence rose this soul disgrace?

Why Selim has receiv'd a place,

And thereby brought the cause to shame,

Proving that people void of blame

Might serve their country and their king

By making both the selfsame thing,

By which the credulous believ'd

And others (by strange arts deceiv'd)

That ministers were sometimes right,

And meant not to destroy us quite.

That bart'ring thus in state affairs

He next must deal in sacred wares,

The clergy's rights divine invade,

And smuggle in the gospel trade;

And all this zeal to reinstate

Exploded notions out of date,

Sending old rakes to church in shoals,

Like children sniv'ling for their souls,

And ladies gay from smut and libels

To learn beliefs and read their Bibles,

Erecting conscience for a tutor,

To damn the present by the future,

As if to evils known and real

'Twas needful to annex ideal,

When all of human life we know

Is care, and bitterness, and wo,

With short transitions of delight

To set the shatter'd spirits right;

Then why such mighty pains and care

To make us humbler than we are?

Forbidding shortliv'd mirth and laughter

By fears of what may come hereafter;

Better in ignorance to dwell;

None fear but who believe a hell;

And if there should be one, no doubt

Men of themselves would find it out.

But Selim's crimes he said went further,

And barely stopp'd on this side murther;

One yet remain'd to close the charge

To which (with leave) he'd speak at large.

And first 't was needful to premise

That tho' so long (for reasons wise)

The press inviolate had stood,

Productive of the publick good,

Yet still too modest to abuse

It rail'd at vice but told not whose;

That great improvements of late days

Were made to many an author's praise,

Who not so scrupulously nice

Proclaim'd the person with the vice,

Or gave, where vices might be wanted,

The name, and took the rest for granted.

Upon this plan a champion [*] rose

Unrighteous greatness to oppose,

Proving the man inventus non est

Who trades in pow'r and still is honest;

And (God be prais'd!) he did it roundly,

Flogging a certain junto soundly;

But chief his anger was directed

Where people least of all suspected,

And Selim not so strong as tall

Beneath his grasp appear'd to fall,

But Innocence (as people say)

Stood by and sav'd him in the fray:

By her assisted and one Truth,

A busy, prating, forward, youth,

He rally'd all his strength anew,

And at the foe a Letter threw;

His weakest part the weapon found,

And brought him senseless to the ground;

Hence Opposition fled the field

And Ign'rance with her sev'nfold shield;

And well they might, (for things weigh'd fully)

The pris'ner with his whore and bully

Must prove for ev'ry foe too hard

Who never fought with such a guard.

But Truth and Innocence he said

Would stand him here in little stead,

For they had evidence on oath

That would appear too hard for both.

Of witnesses a fearful train

Came next th' indictments to sustain,

Detraction, Hatred, and Distrust,

And Party, of all foes the worst,

Malice, Revenge, and Unbelief,

And Disappointment, worn with grief,

Dishonour foul, unaw'd by shame,

And ev'ry fiend that vice can name:

All these in ample form depos'd

Each fact the triple charge disclos'd

With taunts and gibes of bitter sort,

And asking vengeance from the court.

The pris'ner said in his defence

That he indeed had small pretence

To soften facts so deeply sworn,

But would for his offences mourn;

Yet more, he hop'd than bare repentance

Might still be urg'd to ward the sentence.

That he had held a place some years

He own'd with penitence and tears,

But took it not from motives base,

Th' indictment there mistook the case;

And tho' he had betray'd his trust

In being to his country just,

Neglecting Faction and her friends,

He did it not for wicked ends,

But that complaints and feuds might cease,

And jarring parties mix in peace.

That what he wrote to Gilbert West

Bore hard against him he confest;

Yet there they wrong'd him, for the fact is

He reason'd for belief not practice,

And people might believe he thought,

Tho' practice might be deem'd a fault.

He either dream'd it or was told

Religion was rever'd of old,

That it gave breeding no offence,

And was no foe to wit and sense;

But whether this was truth or whim

He would not say; the doubt with him

(And no great harm he hop'd) was how

Th' enlighten'd world would take it now;

If they admitted it 'twas well,

If not he never talk'd of hell,

Nor ev'n hop'd to change men's measnres

Or frighten ladies from their pleasures.

One accusation he confest

Had touch'd him more than all the rest,

Three Patriot Letters high in same

By him o'erthrown and brought to shame:

And tho' it was a rule in vogue

If one man call'd another rogue

The party injur'd might reply

And on his soe retort the lie,

Yet what accru'd from all his labour

But foul dishonour to his neighbour?

And he 's a most unchristian elf

Who others damns to save himself.

Besides, as all men knew, he said

Those Letters only rail'd for bread,

And hunger was a known excuse

For prostitution and abuse;

A guinea properly apply'd

Had made the writer change his side:

He wish'd he had not cut and carv'd him,

And own'd he should have bought not starv'd him.

The court he said knew all the rest,

And must proceed as they thought best,

Only he hop'd such resignation

Would plead some little mitigation;

And if his character was clear

From other faults, (and friends were near

Who would when call'd upon attest it)

He did in humblest form request it

To be from punishment exempt,

And only suffer their contempt.

The pris'ner's friends their claim preferr'd,

In turn demanding to be heard.

Integrity and Honour swore,

Benevolénce, and twenty more,

That he was always of their party,

And that they knew him firm and hearty;

Religion, sober dame! attended,

And as she could his cause befriended;

She said 't was since he came from college

She knew him, introduc'd by Knowledge;

The man was modest and sincere,

Nor farther could she interfere.

The Muses begg'd to interpose,

But Envy with loud hissings rose,

And call'd them women of ill fame,

Liars, and prostitutes to shame,

And said to all the world 't was known

Selim had had them ev'ry one.

The pris'ner blush'd, the Muses frown'd,

When silence was proclaim'd around,

And Faction, rising with the rest,

In form the pris'ner thus addrest:

"You Selim thrice have been indicted,

"First that by wicked pride excited,

"And bent your country to disgrace,

"You have receiv'd and held a place;

"Next, infidelity to wound,

"You 'ave dar'd with arguments profound

"To drive freethinking to a stand,

"And with religion vex the land;

"And lastly, in contempt of right,

"With horrid and unnat'ral spite

"You have an author's fame o'erthrown,

"Thereby to build and fence your own.

"These crimes successive on your trial

"Have met with proofs beyond denial,

"To which yourself with shame conceded,

"And but in mitigation pleaded;

"Yet that the justice of the court

"May suffer not in men's report,

"Judgment a moment I suspend

"To reason as from friend to friend.

"And first, that you of all mankind

"With kings and courts should stain your mind,

"You! who were Opposition's lord,

"Her nerves, her sinews, and her sword!

"That you at last for servile ends

"Should wound the bowels of her friends!—

"Is aggravation of offence

"That leaves for mercy no pretence.

"Yet more—for you to urge your hate,

"And back the church to aid the state,

"For you to publish such a Letter,

"You! who have known religion better,

"For you I say to introduce

"The fraud again!—there 's no excuse:

"And last of all, to crown your shame,

"Was it for you to load with blame

"The writings of a patriot youth,

"And summon Innocence and Truth

"To prop your cause!—Was this for you!—

"But justice does your crimes pursue,

"And sentence now alone remains,

"Which thus by me the court ordains:

"That you return from whence you came,

"There to be stript of all your fame

"By vulgar hands; that once a week

"Old England pinch you till you squeak;

"That ribald Pamphlets do pursue you,

"And Lies and Murmurs, to undo you,

"With ev'ry foe that Worth procures,

"And only Virtue's friends be your's."

THE TRIAL OF SARAH ****, ALIAS SLIM SAL, FOR PRIVATELY STEALING.

THE pris'ner was at large indicted,

For that by thirst of gain excited,

One day in July last at tea,

And in the house of Mrs. P.

From the left breast of E. M. Gent.

With base felonious intent,

Did then and there a heart with strings,

Rest, quiet, peace, and other things,

Steal, rob, and plunder, and all them

The chattels of the said E. M.

The prosecutor swore last May

(The month he knew but not the day)

He left his friends in Town, and went

Upon a visit down in Kent;

That staying there a month or two

He spent his time, as others do,

In riding, walking, fishing, swimming,

But being much inclin'd to women,

And young and wild, and no great reas'ner,

He got acquainted with the pris'ner.

He own'd 't was rumour'd in those parts

That she 'd a trick of stealing hearts,

And from fifteen to twenty-two

Had made the devil-and-all to do:

But Mr. W. the Vicar

(And no man brews you better liquor)

Spoke of her thefts as tricks of youth,

The frolicks of a girl forsooth;

Things now were on another score

He said, for she was twenty-four.

However, to make matters short,

And not to trespass on the court,

The lady was discover'd soon,

And thus it was. One afternoon,

The ninth of July last, or near it,

(As to the day he could not swear it)

In company at Mrs. P's,

Where folks say any thing they please,

Dean L. and Lady Mary by,

And Fanny waiting on Miss Y.

(He own'd he was inclin'd to think

Both were a little in their drink)

The pris'ner ask'd, and call'd him Cousin,

How many kisses made a dozen?

That being as he own'd in liquor

The question made his blood run quicker,

And sense and reason in eclipse

He vow'd he 'd score them on her lips:

That rising up to keep his word

He got as far as kiss the third,

And would have counted th' other nine,

And so all present did opine,

But that he felt a sudden dizziness

That quite undid him for the business;

His speech he said began to falter,

His eyes to stare, his mouth to water,

His breast to thump without cessation,

And all within one conflagration.

"Bless me!" says Fanny, "what 's the matter?"

And Lady Mary look'd hard at her,

And stamp'd and wish'd the pris'ner further,

And cry'd out, "Part them, or there 's murther!"

That still he held the pris'ner fast,

And would have stood it to the last,

But struggling to go thro' the rest

He felt a pain across his breast,

A sort of sudden twinge he said,

That seem'd almost to strike him dead,

And after that such cruel smarting

He thought the soul and body parting:

That then he let the pris'ner go,

And stagger'd off a step or so,

And thinking that his heart was ill

He begg'd of Miss Y 's maid to feel:

That Fanny stepp'd before the rest

And laid her hand upon his breast,

But mercy on us! what a stare

The creature gave! no heart was there:

Souse went her fingers in the hole,

Whence heart and strings and all were stole:

That Fanny turn'd and told the pris'ner

She was a thief, and so she 'd christen her,

And that it was a burning shame,

And brought the house an evil name,

And if she did not put the heart in

The man would pine and die for certain.

The pris'ner then was in her airs,

And bid her mind her own affairs,

And told his Rev'rence and the rest of 'em

She was as honest as the best of 'em:

That lady Mary and dean L.

Rose up and said 't was mighty well;

But that in gen'ral terms they said it,

A heart was gone and some one had it;

Words would not do, for search they must,

And search they would, and her the first:

That then the pris'ner dropp'd her anger,

And said she hop'd they would not hang her;

That all she did was meant in jest,

And there the heart was and the rest:

That then the dean cry'd out O fy!

And sent in haste for justice I.

Who tho' he knew her friends and pity'd her

Call'd her hard names, and so committed her.

The parties present swore the same,

And Fanny said the pris'ner's name

Had frighten'd all the country round,

And glad she was the bill was found:

She knew a man who knew another,

Who knew the very party's brother

Who lost his heart by mere surprise

One morning looking at her eyes;

And others had been known to squeak

Who only chanc'd to hear her speak;

For she had words of such a sort

That tho' she knew no reason for 't

Would make a man of sense run mad,

And rifle him of all he had;

And that she 'd rob the whole community

If ever she had opportunity.

The pris'ner now first silence broke,

And curtsy'd round her as she spoke.

She own'd she said it much incens'd her

To hear such matters sworn against her,

But that she hop'd to keep her temper,

And prove herself eadem semper:

That what the prosecutor swore

Was some part true and some part more:

She own'd she had been often seen with him,

And laugh'd and chatted on the green with him;

The fellow seem'd to have humanity,

And told her tales that sooth'd her vanity,

Pretending that he lov'd her vastly,

And that all women else look'd ghastly:

But then she hop'd the court would think

She never was inclin'd to drink,

Or suffer hands like his to daub her,

Or encourage men to kiss and slobber her:

She 'd have folks know she did not love it,

Or if she did she was above it:

But this she said was sworn of course

To prove her giddy and then worse,

As she whose conduct was thought levis

Might very well be reckon'd thievish.

She hop'd she said the court's discerning

Would pay some honour to her learning,

For ev'ry day from four to past six

She went up stairs and read the classicks.

Thus having clear'd herself of levity,

The rest she said would come with brevity.

And first it injur'd not her honour

To own the heart was found upon her,

For she could prove, and did aver,

The paltry thing belong'd to her.

The fact was thus. This prince of knaves

Was once the humblest of her slaves,

And often had confess'd the dart

Her eyes had lodg'd within his heart:

That she, as 't was her constant fashion,

Made great diversion of his passion,

Which set his blood in such a ferment

As seem'd to threaten his interment:

That then she was afraid of losing him,

And so desisted from abusing him,

And often came and felt his pulse,

And bid him write to Doctor Hulse.

The prosecutor thank'd her kindly,

And sigh'd, and said she look'd divinely;

But told her that his heart was bursting,

And doctors he had little trust in;

He therefore begg'd her to accept it,

And hop'd 't would mend if once she kept it:

That having no aversion to it,

She said with all her soul she 'd do it;

But then she begg'd him to remember

If he should need it in December

(For winter months would make folks shiver

Who wanted either heart or liver)

It never could return; and added

'Twas her's for life if once she had it.

The prosecutor said Amen,

And that he wish'd it not again,

And took it from his breast and gave her,

And how'd and thank'd her for the favour,

But begg'd the thing might not be spoke of,

As heartless men were made a joke of:

That next day whisp'ring him about it,

And asking how he felt without it?

He sigh'd, and cry'd, "Alack! alack!"

And begg'd and pray'd to have it back,

Or that she 'd give him her's instead on 't,

But she conceiv'd there was no need on 't,

And said and bid him make no pother,

He should have neither one nor th' other:

That then he rav'd and storm'd like Fury,

And said that one was his de jure,

And rather than he 'd leave pursuing her

He 'd swear a robbery and ruin her.

That this was truth she did aver

Whatever hap betided her;

Only that Mrs. P. she said,

Miss Y. and her deluded maid,

And Lady Mary, and his Reverence,

Were folks to whom she paid some deference,

And that she verily believ'd

They were not perjur'd but deceiv'd.

Then Doctor D. begg'd leave to speak,

And sigh'd as if his heart would break.

He said that he was Madam's surgeon,

Or rather, as in Greek, chirurgeon,

From chier, manus, ergon, opus,

(As scope is from the Latin scopus:)

That he he said had known the prisoner

From the first sun that ever rise on her,

And griev'd he was to see her there,

But took upon himself to swear

There was not to be found in nature

A sweeter or a better creature;

And if the king (God bless him!) knew her

He 'd leave St. James's to get to her;

But then as to the fact in question

He knew no more on 't than Hephaestion;

It might he false and might be true,

And this he said was all he knew.

The judge proceeded to the charge,

And gave the evidence at large,

But often cast a sheep's eye at her,

And strove to mitigate the matter,

Pretending facts were not so clear,

And mercy ought to interfere.

The jury then withdrew a moment

As if on weighty points to comment,

And right or wrong resolv'd to save her

They gave a verdict in her favour.

But why or wherefore things were so

It matters not for us to know.

The culprit by escape grown bold

Pilfers alike from young and old,

The country all around her teases,

And robs or murders whom she pleases.

ENVY AND FORTUNE, A TALE.
TO MRS. GARRICK.

SAYS Envy to Fortune, "Soft, soft, Madam Flirt!

"Not so fast with your wheel, you 'll be down in the dirt.

"Well, and how does your David? Indeed my dear creature!

"You 'ave shewn him a wonderful deal of good nature;

"His bags are so full and such praises his due

"That the like was ne'er known—and allowing to you:

"But why won't you make him quite happy for life,

"And to all you have done add the gift of a wife?"

Says Fortune, and smil'd, "Madam Envy, God save ye!

"But why always sneering at me and poor Davy?

"I own that sometimes in contempt of all rules

"I lavish my favours on blockheads and sools;

"But the case is quite different here I aver it,

"For David ne'er knew me till brought me by Merit.

"And yet to convince you—Nay, Madam, no hisses—

"Good manners at least—Such behaviour as this is!"—

(For mention but Merit and Envy flies out

With a hiss and a yell that would silence a rout.

But Fortune went on)—"To convince you I say

"That I honour your scheme I 'll about it to-day.

"The man shall be marry'd, so pray now be easy,

"And Garrick for once shall do something to please ye."

So saying she rattled her wheel out of sight,

While Envy walk'd after and grinn'd with delight.

It seems it was a trick that she long had been brewing

To marry poor David and so be his ruin;

For Slander had told her the creature lov'd pelf,

And car'd not a fig for a soul but himself;

From thence she was sure had the devil a daughter

He'd snap at the girl so it was Fortune that brought her;

And then should her temper be sullen or haughty,

Her flesh too be frail, and incline to be naughty,

'Twould fret the poor fellow so out of his reason

That Barry and Quin would set fashions next season.

But Fortune, who saw what the Fury design'd,

Resolv'd to get David a wife to his mind,

Yet afraid of herself in a matter so nice

She visited Prudence and begg'd her advice.

The nymph shook her head when the bus'ness she knew,

And said that her female acquaintance were few;

That excepting Miss R***—O yes! there was one,

A friend of that lady's, she visited none;

But the first was too great and the last was too good,

And as for the rest she might get whom she cou'd.

Away hurry'd Fortune, perplex'd and half mad,

But her promise was pass'd, and a wife must be had:

She travers'd the Town from one corner to th' other,

Now knocking at one door and then at another.

The girls curtsy'd low as she look'd in their faces,

And bridled and primm'd with abundance of graces;

But this was conquettish and that was a prude,

One stupid and dull, th' other noisy and rude;

A third was affected, quite careless a fourth,

With prate without meaning and pride without worth;

A fifth, and a sixth, and a seventh, were such

As either knew nothing or something too much.—

In short as they pass'd she to all had objections,

The gay wanted thought, the good-humour'd affections,

The prudent were ugly, the sensible dirty,

And all of them flirts from fifteen up to thirty.

When Fortune saw this she began to look silly,

Yet still she went on till she reach'd Piccadilly,

But vex'd and fatigu'd, and the night growing late,

She rested her wheel within Burlington gate.

My lady rose up as she saw her come in,

"O ho! Madam Genius! pray where have you been?"

(For her ladyship thought from so serious an air

'Twas Genius come home, for it seems she liv'd there;)

But Fortune not minding her ladyship's blunder,

And wiping her forehead, cry'd "Well may you wonder

"To see me thus flurry'd"—then told her the case, lady,

And sigh'd till her ladyship laugh'd in her face.

"Mighty civil indeed!"—"Come, a truce," says my

"A truce with complaints, and perhaps I may aid ye,

"I'll shew you a girl that—Here, Martin, go tell—

"But she is gone to undress; by and by is as well—

"I 'll shew you a sight that you 'll fancy uncommon,

"Wit, beauty, and goodness, all met in a woman;

"A heart to no folly or mischief inclin'd,

"A body all grace and all sweetness a mind."

"O pray let me see her," says Fortune, and smil'd;

"Do but give her to me and I 'll make her my child.

"But who my Dear! who?—for you have not told yet"—

"Who indeed," says my lady, "if not Violette?"

The words were scarce spoke when she enter'd the room;

A blush at the stranger still heighten'd her bloom:

So humble her looks were, so mild was her air,

That Fortune astonish'd sat mute in her chair.

My lady rose up, and with countenance bland,

"This is Fortune my Dear!" and presented her hand:

The goddess embrac'd her and call'd her her own,

And compliments over her errand made known.

But how the sweet girl colour'd, flutter'd, and trembled,

How oft' she said No, and how ill she dissembled,

Or how little David rejoic'd at the news,

And swore from all others it was her he would chuse,

What methods he try'd and what arts to prevail,

All these were they told would but burden my tale—

In short all affairs were so happily carry'd

That hardly six weeks pass'd away till they marry'd.

But Envy grew sick when the story she heard,

Violette was the girl that of all she most fear'd;

She knew her good humour, her beauty and sweetness,

Her ease and compliance, her taste and her neatness;

From these she was sure that her man could not roam,

And must rise on the stage from contentment at home:

So on she went hissing, and inwardly curs'd her,

And Garrick next season will certainly burst her.

TO THE RIGHT HON. HENRY PELHAM, The Humble Petition of the Worshipful Company of POETS AND NEWSWRITERS.

SHEWETH,

THAT your Honour's petitioners (dealers in rhymes,

And writers of scandal for mending the times)

By losses in bus'ness and England's well doing

Are sunk in their credit and verging on ruin.

That these their misfortunes they humbly conceive

Arise not from dulness, as some folks believe,

But from rubs in their way which your Honour has laid,

And want of materials to carry on trade.

That they always had form'd high conceits of their use,

And meant their last breath should go out in abuse;

But now (and they speak it with sorrow and tears)

Since your Honour has sat at the helm of affairs

No party will join them, no faction invite,

To heed what they say or to read what they write;

Sedition, and Tumult, and Discord, are fled,

And Slander scarce ventures to lift up her head—

In short, publick bus'ness is so carry'd on

That their country is sav'd and the patriots undone.

To perplex them still more, and sure famine to bring,

(Now satire has lost both its truth and its sting)

If in spite of their natures they bungle at praise

Your Honour regards not, and nobody pays.

Your petitioners therefore most humbly entreat

(As the times will allow and your Honour thinks meet)

That measures be chang'd, and some cause of complaint

Be immediately furnish'd to end their restraint,

Their credit thereby and their trade to retrieve,

That again they may rail and the nation believe.

Or else (if your wisdom shall deem it all one)

Now the Parliament 's rising and bus'ness is done,

That your Honour would please at this dangerous crisis

To take to your bosom a few private vices,

By which your petitioners haply might thrive,

And keep both themselves and contention alive.

In compassion, good Sir! give them something to say,

And your Honour's petitioners ever shall pray.

THE LOVER AND THE FRIEND.

O Thou for whom my lyre I string,

Of whom I speak, and think, and sing,

Thou constant object of my joys,

Whose sweetness ev'ry wish employs,

Thou dearest of thy sex! attend,

And hear the Lover and the Friend.

Fear not the poet's flatt'ring strain,

No idle praise my verse shall stain;

The lowly numbers shall impart

The faithful dictates of my heart,

Nor humble modesty offend,

And part the Lover from the Friend.

Not distant is the cruel day

That tears me from my hopes away;

Then frown not Fairest! if I try

To steal the moisture from your eye,

Or force your heart a sigh to send

To mourn the Lover and the Friend.

No perfect joy my life e'er knew

But what arose from love and you,

Nor can I fear another pain

Than your unkindness or disdain;

Then let your looks their pity lend

To cheer the Lover and the Friend.

Whole years I strove against the flame,

And suffer'd ills that want a name,

Yet still the painful secret kept,

And to myself in silence wept,

Till now unable to contend

I own'd the Lover and the Friend.

I saw you still: your gen'rous heart

In all my sorrows bore a part,

Yet while your eyes with pity glow'd

No words of hope your tongue bestow'd,

But mildly bid me cease to blend

The name of Lover with the Friend.

Sick with desire and mad with pain

I seek for happiness in vain:

Thou lovely Maid! to thee I cry;

Heal me with kindness or I die!

From sad despair my soul defend,

And fix the Lover and the Friend.

Curs'd be all wealth that can destroy

My utmost hope of earthly joy!

Thy gifts O Fortune I resign,

Let her and Poverty be mine!

And ev'ry year that life shall lend

Shall bless the Lover and the Friend.

In vain alas! in vain I strive

To keep a dying hope alive:

The last sad remedy remains;

'Tis absence that must heal my pains,

Thy image from my bosom rend,

And force the Lover from the Friend.

Vain thought! tho' seas between us roll

Thy love is rooted in my soul;

The vital blood that warms my heart

With thy idea must depart,

And Death's decisive stroke must end

At once the Lover and the Friend.

THE NUN, A CANTATA.

RECITATIVE.

OF Constance holy legends tell,

The softest sister of the cell;

None sent to heav'n so sweet a cry,

Or roll'd at mass so bright an eye.

No wanton taint her bosom knew,

Her hours in heav'nly vision flew,

Her knees were worn with midnight pray'rs,

And thus she breath'd divinest airs.

AIR.

"In hallow'd walks and awful cells,

"Secluded from the light and vain,

"The chaste-ey'd maid with Virtue dwells,

"And solitude and silence reign.

"The wanton's voice is heard not here;

"To Heav'n the sacred pile belongs;

"Each wall returns the whisper'd pray'r,

"And echoes but to holy songs."

RECITATIVE.

Alas! that pamper'd monks should dare

Intrude where sainted Vestals are!

Ah Francis, Francis! well I weet

Those holy looks are all deceit.

With shame the Muse prolongs her tale,

The priest was young, the Nun was frail,

Devotion falter'd on her tongue,

Love tun'd her voice, and thus she sung:

AIR.

"Alas! how deluded was I

"To fancy delights as I did,

"With maidens at midnight to sigh,

"And love the sweet passion forbid!

"O Father! my follies forgive,

"And still to absolve me be nigh;

"Your lessons have taught me to live,

"Come teach me, O teach me! to die.

To her arms in a rapture he sprung,

Her bosom half naked met his,

Transported in silence she hung,

And melted away at each kiss.

"Ah Father! expiring she cry'd,

"With rapture I yield up my breath!"

"Ah Daughter! he fondly reply'd,

"The righteous find comfort in death."

SOLOMON, A SERENATA, IN THREE PARTS.
SET TO MUSICK BY DR. BOYCE.

PART I.

CHORUS.

"BEHOLD Jerusalem! thy king,

"Whose praises all the nations sing.

"To Solomon the Lord has giv'n

"All arts and wisdom under heav'n:

"For him the tuneful virgin throng

"Of Zion's daughters swell the song,

"While young and old their voices raise,

"And wake the echoes with his praise."

RECITATIVE. SHE.

From the mountains lo! he comes,

Breathing from his lips perfumes,

While zephirs on his garments play,

And sweets thro' all the air convey.

AIR. SHE.

"Tell me, lovely Shepherd! where

"Thou feed'st at noon thy fleecy care?

"Direct me to the sweet retreat

"That guards thee from the mid-day heat,

"Le•t by the flocks I lonely stray

"Without a guide and lose my way:

"Where rest at noon thy bleating care,

"Gentle Shepherd! tell me where?"

AIR. HE.

"Fairest of the virgin throng!

"Dost thou seek thy swain's abode?

"See yon' fertile vale along

"The new-worn path the flocks have trod;

"Pursue the prints their feet have made

"And they shall guide thee to the shade."

RECITATIVE. SHE.

As the rich apple, on whose boughs

Ripe fruit with streaky beauty glows,

Excels the trees that shade the grove,

So shines among his sex my love.

AIR.

"Beneath his ample shade I lay

"Defended from the sultry day,

"His cooling fruit my thirst assuag'd,

"And quench'd the fires that in me rag'd,

"Till sated with the luscious taste

"I rose and blest the sweet repast."

RECITATIVE. HE.

Who quits the lily's fleecy white

To fix on meaner flow'rs the sight?

Or leaves the rose's stem untorn

To crop the blossom from the thorn?

Unrivall'd thus thy beauties are;

So shines my love among the fair.

AIR.

"Balmy sweetness ever flowing

"From her dropping lips distils,

"Flowers on her cheeks are blowing,

"And her voice with musick thrills.

"Zephirs o'er the spices flying,

"Wasting sweets from ev'ry tree,

"Sick'ning sense with odours cloying,

"Breath not half so sweet as she."

RECITATIVE. SHE.

Let not my prince his slave despise,

Or pass me with unheeding eyes,

Because the sun's discolouring rays

Have chas'd the lily from my face:

My envious sisters saw my bloom

And drove me from my mother's home;

Unshelter'd all the scorching day

They made me in their vineyard stay.

AIR.

"Ah simple me! my own more dear,

"My own alas! was not my care;

"Invading Love the sences broke

"And tore the clusters from the stock,

"With eager grasp the fruit destroy'd,

"Nor rested till the ravage cloy'd."

AIR. HE.

"Fair and comely is my love,

"And softer than the blueey'd dove;

"Down her neck the wanton locks

"Bound like the kids on Gilead's rocks;

"Her teeth like flocks in beauty seem

"New shorn, and dropping from the stream;

"Her glowing lips by far outvie

"The plaited threads of scarlet dye;

"Whene'er she speaks the accents wound,

"And musick floats upon the sound."

RECITATIVE. SHE.

Forbear, O charming Swain! forbear,

Thy voice enchants my list'ning ear,

And while I gaze my bosom glows,

My flutt'ring heart with love o'erflows,

The shades of night hang o'er my eyes,

And ev'ry sense within me dies.

AIR.

"O fill with cooling juice the bowl,

"Assuage the fever in my soul!

"With copious draughts my thirst remove,

"And sooth the heart that's sick of love."

PART II.

RECITATIVE. HE.

THE cheerful spring begins to-day,

Arise my Fair One! come away.

RECITATIVE. SHE.

Sweet musick steals along the air—

Hark!—my beloved's voice I hear.

AIR. HE.

"Arise my Fair! and come away,

"The cheerful spring begins to-day;

"Bleak Winter's gone with all his train

"Of chilling frosts and dropping rain:

"Amidst the verdure of the mead

"The primrose lifts her velvet head,

"The warbling birds the woods among

"Salute the season with a song,

"The cooing turtle in the grove

"Renews his tender tale of love,

"The vines their infant tendrils shoot,

"The figtree bends with early fruit;

"All welcome in the genial ray:

"Arise my Fair! and come away.

CHORUS.

"All welcome in the genial ray:

"Arise O Fair One! come away.

DUET.

"Together let us range the fields

"Impearled with the morning dew,

"Or view the fruits the vineyard yields,

"Or the apple's clust'ring bough;

"There in close-embower'd shades,

"Impervious to the noontide ray,

"By tinkling rills on rosy beds

"We 'll love the sultry hours away."

RECITATIVE. HE.

How lovely art thou to the sight,

For pleasure form'd and sweet delight!

Tall as the palmtree is thy shape,

Thy breasts are like the clust'ring grape.

AIR.

"Let me, Love! thy bole ascending,

"On the swelling clusters feed,

"With my grasp the vinetree bending

"In my close embrace shall bleed.

"Stay me with delicious kisses

"From thy honey-dropping mouth,

"Sweeter than the summer breezes

"Blowing from the genial South."

RECITATIVE. SHE.

O that a sister's specious name

Conceal'd from prying eyes my flame!

Uncensur'd then I 'd own my love,

And chastest virgins should approve;

Then fearless to my mother's bed

My seeming brother would I lead,

Soft transports should the hours employ,

And the deceit should crown the joy.

AIR.

"Soft! I adjure you by the fawns

"That bound across the flow'ry lawns,

"Ye Virgins! that ye lightly move,

"Nor with your whispers wake my love."

RECITATIVE. HE.

My fair 's a garden of delight

Enclos'd and hid from vulgar sight,

Where streams from bubbling fountains stray

And roses deck the verdant way.

AIR.

"Softly arise, O Southern Breeze!

"And kindly fan the blooming trees,

"Upon my spicy garden blow,

"That sweets from ev'ry part may flow."

CHORUS.

"Ye Southern Breezes! gently blow,

"That sweets from ev'ry part may flow."

PART III.

AIR. HE.

"ARISE my Fair! the doors unfold,

"Receive me shiv'ring with the cold."

RECITATIVE. SHE.

My heart amidst my slumbers wakes

And tells me my beloved speaks.

AIR. HE.

"Arise my Fair! the doors unfold,

"Receive me shiv'ring with the cold;

"The chill drops hang upon my head,

"And night's cold dews my cheeks o'erspread:

"Receive me dropping to thy breast,

"And lull me in thy arms to rest."

RECITATIVE. SHE.

Obedient to thy voice I hie,

The willing doors wide open fly.

AIR.

"Ah! whither, whither art thou gone?

"Where is my lovely wand'rer flown?

"Ye blooming Virgins! as you rove

"If chance you meet my straying love

"I charge you tell him how I mourn

"And pant and die for his return."

CHORUS OF VIRGINS.

"Who is thy love O charming Maid!

"That from thy arms so late has stray'd?

"Say what distinguish'd charms adorn

"And finish out his radiant form?"

AIR. SHE.

"On his face the vernal rose

"Blended with the lily glows;

"His locks are as the raven black,

"In ringlets waving down his back;

"His eyes with milder beauties beam

"Than billing doves beside the stream;

"His youthful cheeks are beds of flow'rs

"Enripen'd by refreshing show'rs;

"His lips are of the rose's hue,

"Dropping with a fragrant dew;

"Tall as the cedar he appears,

"And as erect his form he bears.

"This, O ye Virgins! is the swain

"Whose absence causes all my pain."

RECITATIVE. HE.

Sweet Nymph! whom ruddier charms adorn

Than open with the rosy morn,

Fair as the moon's unclouded light,

And as the sun in splendour bright,

Thy beauties dazzle from afar

Like glitt'ring arms that gild the war.

RECITATIVE. SHE.

O take me, stamp me on thy breast,

Deep let the image be imprest!

For Love like armed Death is strong,

Rudely he drags his slaves along:

If once to jealousy he turns

With never-dying rage he burns.

DUET.

"Thou soft invader of the soul,

"O Love! who shall thy pow'r control?

"To quench thy fires whole rivers drain

"Thy burning heat shall still remain.

"In vain we trace the globe to try

"If pow'rful gold thy joys can buy:

"The treasures of the world will prove

"Too poor a bribe to purchase Love.

CHORUS.

"In vain we trace the globe to try

"If pow'rful gold thy joys can buy:

"The treasures of the world will prove

"Too poor a bribe to purchase Love."

A HYMN TO POVERTY.

O Poverty! thou source of human art,

Thou great inspirer of the poet's song!

In vain Apollo dictates, and the Nine

Attend in vain, unless thy mighty hand

Direct the tuneful lyre. Without thy aid

The canvass breathes no longer. Musick's charms

Uninfluenc'd by thee forget to please:

Thou giv'st the organ sound; by thee the flute

Breathes harmony; the tuneful viol owns

Thy pow'rful touch. The warbling voice is thine;

Thou gav'st to Nicolini ev'ry grace,

And ev'ry charm to Farinelli's song.

By thee the lawyer pleads. The soldier's arm

Is nerv'd by thee. Thy pow'r the gownman feels,

And urg'd by thee unfolds Heav'n's mystick truths.

The haughty fair that swells with proud disdain,

And smiles at mischiefs which her eyes have made,

Thou humblest to submit and bless mankind.

Hail, Pow'r Omnipotent! me uninvok'd

Thou deign'st to visit, far alas! unfit

To bear thy awful presence. O retire!

At distance let me view thee, lest too nigh

I sink beneath the terrours of thy face.

PROLOGUE
SPOKEN BY MR. WOODWARD, In the Character of a Critick with a Catcal in his Hand.

ARE you all ready? here 's your musick, here[*].

Author! sneak off; we 'll tickle you my dear.

The fellow stopp'd me in a hellish fright—

"Pray Sir," says he, "must I be damn'd to-night?"

"Damn'd! surely friend. Do n't hope for our compliance;

"Zounds Sir! a second play 's downright defiance.

"Tho' once poor Rogue! we pity'd your condition,

"Here 's the true recipe for repetition."

"Well Sir," says he, "e'en as you please; so then

"I 'll never trouble you with plays again."

"But hark ye Poet!—Won't you tho,'" says I?

"'Pon honour"—Then we 'll damn you, let me die."

Sha' n't we my Bucks? let 's take him at his word;

Damn him, or by my soul he 'll write a third.

The man wants money I suppose—but mind ye—

Tell him you 'ave left your charity behind ye.

A pretty plea, his wants to our regard!

As if we Bloods had bowels for a bard!

Besides, what men of spirit now-a-days

Come to give sober judgments of new plays?

It argues some good nature to be quiet—

Good nature!—ay—but then we lose a riot.

The scribbling fool may beg and make a fuss;

'Tis death to him—what then?—'tis sport to us.

Do n't mind me tho'—for all my fun and jokes

The bard may find us Bloods good natur'd folks,

No crabbed criticks, foes to rising merit:

Write but with fire and we 'll applaud with spirit.

Our Author aims at no dishonest ends;

He knows no enemies and boasts some friends:

He takes no methods down your throats to cram it,

So if you like it save it, if not—damn it.

AN ELEGY,
Written among the Ruins of a Nobleman's Seat in Cornwal.

AMIDST these venerable drear remains

Of ancient grandeur musing sad I stray,

Around a melancholy silence reigns

That prompts me to indulge the plaintive lay.

Here liv'd Eugenio, born of noble race:

Aloft his mansion rose, around were seen

Extensive gardens deck'd with ev'ry grace,

Ponds, walks, and groves, thro' all the seasons green.

Ah! where is now its boasted beauty fled?

Proud turrets that once glitter'd in the sky

And broken columns in confusion spread

A rude misshapen heap of ruins lie.

Of splendid rooms no traces here are found:

How are these tott'ring walls by time defac'd,

Shagg'd with vile thorn, with twining ivy bound,

Once hung with tapestry, with paintings grac'd!

In ancient times perhaps where now I tread

Licentious Riot crown'd the midnight bowl,

Her dainties Luxury pour'd, and Beauty spread

Her artful snares to captivate the soul.

Or here attended by a chosen train

Of innocent delight true Grandeur dwelt,

Diffusing blessings o'er the distant plain,

Health, joy, and happiness, by thousands felt.

Around now Solitude unjoyous reigns,

No gay gilt chariot hither marks the way,

No more with cheerful hopes the needy swains

At the once bounteous gate their visits pay.

Where too is now the garden's beauty fled

Which ev'ry clime was ransack'd to supply?

O'er the drear spot see desolation spread,

And the dismantled walls in ruins lie!

Dead are the trees that once with nicest care

Arrang'd from op'ning blossoms shed perfume,

And thick with fruitage stood the pendent pear,

The ruddy colour'd peach and glossy plum.

Extinct is all the family of flow'rs;

In vain I seek the arbour's cool retreat,

Where ancient friends in converse pass'd the hours,

Defended from the raging Dogstar's heat.

Along the terrace walks are straggling seen

The prickly bramble and the noisome weed,

Beneath whose covert crawls the toad obscene,

And snakes and adders unmolested breed.

The groves where Pleasure walk'd her rounds decay,

The mead untill'd a barren aspect wears,

And where the sprightly fawn was wont to play

O'ergrown with heath a dreary waste appears.

In yonder wide-extended vale below

Where osiers spread a pond capacious stood,

From far by art the stream was taught to flow

Whose liquid stores supply'd th' unfailing flood.

Oft' here the silent angler took his place,

Intent to captivate the scaly fry—

But perish'd now are all the num'rous race,

Dumb is the fountain and the channel dry.

Here then, ye Great! behold th' uncertain state

Of earthly grandeur—Beauty, strength, and pow'r,

Alike are subject to the stroke of Fate,

And flourish but the glory of an hour.

Virtue alone no dissolution fears,

Still permanent tho' ages roll away:

Who builds on her immortal basis rears

A superstructure time can ne'er decay.

Notes

*
Author of the Letters to the Whigs.
↵

*
Blowing his catcal.
↵

SONGS.

SONG I.

I.

THUS I said to my heart in a pet th' other day,

"I had rather be hang'd than go moping this way;

"No throbbings no wishes your moments employ,

"But you sleep in my breast without motion or joy.

II.

"When Cloe perplex'd me 't was sweeter by half,

"And at Thais's wiles I could oftentimes laugh;

"Your burnings and akings I strove not to cure

"Tho' one was a jilt and the other a whore.

III.

"When I walk'd up the Mall or stroll'd thro'the street

"Not a petticoat brush'd me but then you could beat,

"Or if bang went the hoop against corner or post

"In the magical round you were sure to be lost.

IV.

"But now if a nymph goes as naked as Eve,

"Like Adam unfallen you never perceive,

"Or the seat of delight if the tippet should hide

"You tempt not my fingers to draw it aside.

V.

"Is it caution or dread or the frost of old age

"That inclines you with beauty no more to engage?

"Tell me quickly the cause, for it makes me quite mad

"In the summer's gay season to see you so sad."

VI.

"Have a care," quoth my Heart, "how you tempt me to stray;

"He that hunts down a woman must run a d—d way;

"Like a hare she can wind, or hold out with the fox,

"And secure in the chase her pursuers she mocks.

VII.

"For Cloe I burnt with an innocent flame,

"And beat to the musick that breath'd out her name;

"Three summers flew over the castles I built,

"And beheld me a fool and my goddess a jilt.

VIII

"Next Thais the wanton my wishes employ'd,

"And the kind one repair'd what the cruel destroy'd;

"Like Shadrach I liv'd in a furnace of fire,

"But unlike him was scorch'd and compell'd to retire.

IX.

"Recruited once more I forgot all my pain,

"And was jilted, and burnt, and bedevil'd again;

"Not a petticoat fring'd or the heel of a shoe

"Ever pass'd you by daylight but at it I flew.

X.

"Thus jilted, and wounded, and burnt to a coal,

"For rest I retreated again to be whole,

"But your eyes ever open to lead me astray

"Have beheld a new face and command me away.

XI.

"But remember in whatever flames I may burn

"'Twill be solly to ask for or wish my return;

"Neither Thais nor Cloe again shall inflame,

"But a nymph more provoking than all you can name."

XII.

This said with a bound from my bosom he flew;

O Phillis! these eyes saw him posting to you:

Enslav'd by your wit he grows fond of his chain,

And vows I shall never possess him again.

SONG II.

COLIN.

BE still O ye Winds! and attentive ye Swains!

'Tis Phebe invites and replies to my strains;

The sun never rose on, search all the world thro',

A shepherd so blest or a fair one so true.

PHEB.

Glide softly ye Streams! O ye Nymphs round me throng!

'Tis Colin commands and attends to my song;

Search all the world over you never can find

A maiden so blest or a shepherd so kind.

BOTH.

'Tis love like the sun that gives light to the year,

The sweetest of blessings that life can endear,

Our pleasures it brightens, drives sorrow away,

Gives joy to the night and enlivens the day.

COL.

With Phebe beside me the seasons how gay!

Then winter's bleak months seem as pleasant as May;

The summer's gay verdure springs still as she treads,

And linnets and nightingales sing thro' the meads.

PHEB.

When Colin is absent 't is winter all round,

How faint is the sunshine, how barren the ground!

Instead of the linnet and nightingale's song

I hear the hoarse raven croak all the day long.

BOTH.

'Tis love like the sun, &c.

COL.

O'er hill, dale, and valley, my Phebe and I

Together will wander, and Love shall be by;

Her Colin shall guard her safe all the long day,

And Phebe at night all his pains shall repay.

PHEB.

By moonlight when shadows glide over the plain

His kisses shall cheer me, his arm shall sustain;

The dark haunted grove I can trace without fear,

Or sleep in a churchyard, if Colin is near.

BOTH.

'Tis love like the sun, &c.

COL.

Ye Shepherds that wanton it over the plain

How fleeting your transports, how lasting your pain!

Inconstancy shun, and reward the kind she,

And learn to be happy of Phebe and me.

PHEB.

Ye Nymphs! who the pleasures of love never try'd,

Attend to my strains and take me for your guide;

Your hearts keep from pride and inconstancy free,

And learn to be happy of Colin and me.

BOTH.

'Tis love like the sun that gives light to the year,

The sweetest of blessings that life can endear,

Our pleasures it brightens, drives sorrow away,

Gives joy to the night and enlivens the day.

SONG III.

I.

AS Phillis the gay at the break of the day

Went forth to the meadows a Maying,

A clown lay asleep by a river so deep

That round in meanders was straying.

II.

His bosom was bare, and for whiteness so rare,

Her heart it was gone without warning,

With cheeks of such hue that the rose wet with dew

Ne'er look'd half so fresh in a morning.

III.

She cull'd the new hay and down by him she lay,

Her wishes too warm for disguising;

She play'd with his eyes till he wak'd in surprise,

And blush'd like the sun at his rising.

IV.

She sung him a song as he lean'd on his prong,

And rested her arm on his shoulder;

She press'd his coy cheek to her bosom so sleek,

And taught his two arms to infold her.

V.

The rustick grown kind, by a kiss told his mind,

And call'd her his Dear and his Blessing;

Together they stray'd, and sung, frolick'd, and play'd,

And what they did more there 's no guessing.

SONG IV.

HE.

LET rakes for pleasure range the Town,

Or misers dote on golden guineas,

Let Plenty smile or Fortune frown

The sweets of love are mine and Jenny's.

SHE.

Let wanton maids indulge desire,

How soon the fleeting pleasure gone is!

The joys of virtue never tire,

And such shall still be mine and Johnny's.

BOTH.

Together let us sport and play,

And live in pleasure where no sin is;

The priest shall tie the knot to-day,

And wedlock's bands make Johnny Jenny's.

HE.

Let roving swains young hearts invade,

The pleasure ends in shame and solly;

So Willy woo'd, and then betray'd

The poor believing simple Molly.

SHE.

So Lucy lov'd, and lightly toy'd,

And laugh'd at harmless maids who marry,

But now she finds her shepherd cloy'd,

And chides too late her faithless Harry.

BOTH.

But we 'll together, &c.

HE.

By cooling streams our flocks we 'll feed,

And leave deceit to knaves and ninnies,

Or fondly stray where Love shall lead,

And ev'ry joy be mine and Jenny's.

SHE.

Let guilt the faithless bosom fright,

The constant heart is always bonny;

Content, and Peace, and sweet Delight,

And Love, shall live with me and Johnny.

BOTH.

Together still we 'll sport and play,

And live in pleasure where no sin is;

The priest shall tie the knot to-day,

And wedlock's bands make Johnny Jenny's.

SONG V.

I.

STAND round my brave Boys! with heart and with voice,

And all in full chorus agree;

We 'll fight for our king, and as loyally sing,

And let the world know we 'll be free.

CHORUS.

The rebels shall fly as with shouts we draw nigh,

And Echo shall victory ring,

Then safe from alarms we 'll rest on our arms

And chorus it Long live the King!

II.

Then commerce once more shall bring wealth to our shore,

And plenty and peace bless the isle;

The peasant shall quaff off his bowl with a laugh

And reap the sweet fruits of his toil.

CHORUS.

The rebels, &c.

III.

Kind love shall repay the fatigues of the day

And melt us to softer alarms;

Coy Phillis shall burn at her soldier's return

And bless the brave youth in her arms.

CHORUS.

The rebels shall fly as with shouts we draw nigh,

And Echo shall victory ring,

Then safe from alarms we 'll rest on our arms

And chorus it Long live the King!

SONG VI.

I.

TO make the wife kind and to keep the house still

You must be of her mind let her say what she will;

In all that she does you must give her her way,

For tell her she 's wrong and you lead her astray.

CHORUS.

Then Husbands! take care, of suspicion beware,

Your wives may be true if you fancy they are;

With confidence trust them, and be not such elves

As to make by your jealousy horns for yourselves.

II.

Abroad all the day if she chuses to roam

Seem pleas'd with her absence, she 'll sigh to come home;

The man she likes best and longs most to get at

Be sure to commend, and she 'll hate him for that.

CHORUS.

Then Husbands! &c.

III.

What virtues she has you may safely oppose;

Whatever her follies are praise her for those:

Applaud all her schemes that she lays for a man,

For accuse her of vice and she 'll sin if she can.

CHORUS.

Then Husbands! take care, of suspicion beware,

Your wives may be true if you fancy they are;

With confidence trust them, and be not such elves

As to make by your jealousy horns for yourselves.

SONG VII.

DAMON.

HARK, hark! o'er the plains how the merry bells ring

Asleep while my charmer is laid;

The village is up and the day on the wing,

And Phillis may yet die a maid.

PHIL.

'Tis hardly yet day and I cannot away;

O Damon! I am young and afraid:

To-morrow my Dear! I 'll to church without fear,

But let me to-night lie a maid.

DAM.

The bridemaids are met, and mamma 's on the fret;

All, all my coy Phillis upbraid:

Come open the door, and deny me no more,

Nor cry to live longer a maid.

PHIL.

Dear Shepherd! forbear, and to-morrow I swear,

To-morrow I 'll not be afraid;

I 'll open the door, and deny you no more,

Nor cry to live longer a maid.

DAM.

No, no, Phillis; no; on that bosom of snow

To-night shall your shepherd be laid:

By morning my dear shall be eas'd of her fear,

Nor grieve she 's no longer a maid.

PHIL.

Then open the door, 't was unbolted before;

His bliss silly Damon delay'd:

To church let us go, and if there I say No,

O then let me die an old maid.

SONG VIII.

I.

THAT Jenny's my friend, my delight, and my pride,

I always have boasted, and seek not to hide;

I dwell on her praises wherever I go:

They say I 'm in love, but I answer No, no.

II.

At ev'ning oft'times with what pleasure I see

A note from her hand, "I 'll be with you at tea!"

My heart how it bounds when I hear her below!

But say not 't is love, for I answer No, no.

III.

She sings me a song and I echo each strain,

Again I cry Jenny, sweet Jenny! again

I kiss her soft lips as if there I could grow,

And fear I 'm in love tho' I answer No, no.

IV.

She tells me her faults as she sits on my knee;

I chide her, and swear she 's an angel to me:

My shoulder she taps, and still bids me think so.

Who knows but she loves tho' she tells me No, no?

V.

Yet such is my temper, so dull am I grown,

I ask not her heart but would conquer my own:

Her bosom's soft peace shall I seek to o'erthrow,

And wish to persuade while I answer No, no?

VI.

From beauty, and wit, and good humour, ah! why

Should Prudence advise and compel me to fly?

Thy bounties O Fortune! make haste to bestow,

And let me deserve her or still I say No.

SONG IX.

I.

YOU tell me I 'm handsome, I know not how true,

And easy, and chatty, and good humour'd, too,

That my lips are as red as the rosebud in June,

And my voice like the nightingale's sweetly in tune:

All this has been told me by twenty before,

But he that would win me must flatter me more.

II.

If beauty from virtue receive no supply,

Or prattle from prudence, how wanting am I!

My ease and good humour short raptures will bring,

And my voice like the nightingale's know but a spring:

For charms such as these then your praises give o'er;

To love me for life you must love me for more.

III.

Then talk to me not of a shape or an air,

For Cloe the wanton can rival me there:

'Tis virtue alone that makes beauty look gay,

And brightens good humour as sunshine the day;

For that if you love me your flame shall be true,

And I in my turn may be taught to love too.

SONG X.

I.

HOW blest has my time been, whatdays have I known,

Since wedlock's soft bondage made Jesse my own!

So joyful my heart is, so easy my chain,

That freedom is tasteless and roving a pain.

II.

Thro' walks grown with woodbines as often we stray

Around us our boys and girls frolick and play;

How pleasing their sport is the wanton ones see,

And borrow their looks from my Jesse and me.

III.

To try her sweet temper sometimes am I seen

In revels all day with the nymphs on the green;

Tho' painful my absence my doubts she beguiles,

And meets me at night with compliance and smiles.

IV.

What tho' on her cheek the rose loses its hue,

Her ease and good humour bloom all the year thro';

Time still as he flies brings increase to her truth,

And gives to her mind what he steals from her youth.

V.

Ye Shepherds so gay! who make love to ensnare,

And cheat with false vows the too credulous fair,

In search of true pleasure how vainly you roam!

To hold it for life you must find it at home.

SONG XI.

I.

HARK, hark! 't is a voice from the tomb;

"Come Lucy," it cries, "come away;

"The grave of thy Colin has room

"To rest thee beside his cold clay."

"I come my dear Shepherd! I come;

"Ye Friends and Companions! adieu;

"I haste to my Colin's dark home,

"To die on his bosom so true."

II.

All mournful the midnight bell rung

When Lucy, sad Lucy, arose,

And forth to the green turf she sprung

Where Colin's pale ashes repose:

All wet with the night's chilling dew

Her bosom embrac'd the cold ground,

While stormy winds over her blew

And night ravens croak'd all around.

III.

"How long my lov'd Colin!" she cry'd,

"How long must thy Lucy complain?

"How long shall the grave my love hide?

"How long ere it join us again?

"For thee thy fond shepherdess liv'd,

"With thee o'er the world would she fly;

"For thee has she sorrow'd and griev'd,

"For thee would she lie down and die.

IV.

"Alas! what avails it how dear

"Thy Lucy was once to her swain,

"Her face like the lily so fair,

"And eyes that gave light to the plain!

"The shepherd that lov'd her is gone,

"That face and those eyes charm no more,

"And Lucy forgot and alone

"To death shall her Colin deplore."

V.

While thus she lay sunk in despair,

And mourn'd to the echoes around,

Inflam'd all at once grew the air,

And thunder shook dreadful the ground.

"I hear the kind call and obey;

"Oh Colin! receive me," she cry'd;

Then breathing a groan o'er his clay,

She hung on his tombstone and dy'd.

SONG XII.

I.

FOR a shape, and a bloom, and an air, and a mien,

Myrtilla was brightest of all the gay green,

But artfully wild and affectedly coy,

Those her beauties invited her pride would destroy.

II.

By the flocks as she stray'd with the nymphs of the vale

Not a shepherd but woo'd her to hear his soft tale;

Tho' fatal the passion she laugli'd at the swain,

And return'd with neglect what she heard with disdain.

III.

But beauty has wings and too hastily flies,

And love unrewarded soon sickens and dies;

The nymph cur'd by time of her folly and pride

Now sighs in her turn for the bliss she deny'd.

IV.

No longer she frolicks it wide o'er the plain

To kill with her coyness the languishing swain;

So humbled her pride is, so soften'd her mind,

That tho' courted by none she to all would be kind.

SONG XIII.

I.

WHEN Damon languish'd at my feet,

And I believ'd him true,

The moments of delight how sweet!

But ah! how swift they flew!

The sunny hill, the flow'ry vale,

The garden and the grove,

Have echo'd to his ardent tale,

And vows of endless love.

II.

The conquest gain'd he left his prize,

He left her to complain,

To talk of joy with weeping eyes,

And measure time by pain.

But Heav'n will take the mourner's part

In pity to despair,

And the last sigh that rends the heart

Shall wast the spirit there.

CONTENTS.

- The Life of the Author, Page 5

- Preface, 9

- Dedication, 11

- FABLES FOR THE LADIES.

- Fable I. 13

- — II. 16

- — III. 21

- — IV. 22

- — V. 25

- — VI. 28

- — VII. 32

- — VIII. 35

- — IX. 40

- — X. 43

- — XI. 46

- — XII. 49

- — XIII. 52

- — XIV. 56

- — XV. 70

- — XVI. 89

- ODES.

- The Discovery, an Ode, 103

- Ode, to Garrick, 108

- MISCELLANIES.

- The Trial of Selim the Persian, 113

- The Trial of Sarah ***, alias Slim Sal, 126

- Envy and Fortune, a Tale, 135

- To the Right Hon. Henry Pelham, the Petition of the Company of Poets and Newswriters, Page 139

- The Lover and the Friend, 141

- The Nun, a Cantata, 143

- Solomon, a Serenata, in three Parts, Part I. 145

- — Part II. 149

- — Part III. 152

- A Hymn to Poverty, 154

- Prologue to Gil Blas, 155

- Elegy written among the Ruins of a Nobleman's Seat in Cornwal, 157

- SONGS.

- Song I. "Thus I said to my heart," &c. 160

- Song II. "Be still O ye Winds!" &c. 162

- Song III. "As Phillis the gay," &c. 164

- Song IV. "Let rakes for pleasure range," &c. 165

- Song V. "Stand round my brave Boys!" &c. 166

- Song VI. "To make the wife kind," &c. 167

- Song VII. "Hark, hark! o'er the plains," &c. 168

- Song VIII. "That Jenny 's my friend," &c. 169

- Song IX. "You tell me I am handsome," &c. 170

- Song X. "How blest has my time been," &c. 171

- Song XI. "Hark, hark! 't is a voice," &c. 172

- Song XII. "For a shape, and a bloom," &c. 174

- Song XIII. "When Damon languish'd," &c. 175

From the APOLLO PRESS, by the MARTINS, Dec. 15. 1781.

Information about this book

Title statement

The poetical works: of Edward Moore. With the life of the author.

Moore, Edward, 1712-1757.

Publication

Distributor

University of Oxford Text Archive
Oxford University Computing Services
13 Banbury Road
Oxford
OX2 6NN
ota@oucs.ox.ac.uk

ID [ota]

http://ota.ox.ac.uk/id/5258

ID [isbn10]

1106022572

ID [isbn13]

9781106022578

ID [TCP]

K110277.000

ID [BIBNO]

CW3310485311

ID [ECLL]

0183801000

Availability

Distributed by the University of Oxford under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License

Source

— The poetical works: of Edward Moore. With the life of the author., Moore, Edward, 1712-1757.. 177,[1]p.,plate ; 18⁰. Edinburg :: at the Apollo Press, by the Martins. Anno,. 1781 [1782]. [In: 'The poets of Great Britain complete from Chaucer to Churchill', Bell's edition, London, printed for John Bell.] [With an engraved collective titlepage dated 1782.] [With an additional letterpress titlepage.] [Colophon dated: Dec.15. 1781.] [Reproduction of original from the British Library.] [English Short Title Catalog, ESTCT139872.] [Electronic data. Farmington Hills, Mich. : Thomson Gale, 2003. Page image (PNG). Digitized image of the microfilm version produced in Woodbridge, CT by Research Publications, 1982-2002 (later known as Primary Source Microfilm, an imprint of the Gale Group).]

Creation

Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2p5.xsl, TEI @ Oxford.

Editorial practices

This electronic text file was keyed from page images and partially proofread for accuracy. Character capture and encoding have been done following the guidelines of the ECCO Text Creation Partnership, which correspond roughly to the recommendations found in Level 4 of the TEI in Libraries Guidelines. Digital page images are linked to the text file.