OR, TRUTH IN PARENTHESES. "I REALLY take it very kind, I have not seen you such an age- "Your daughters, too, what loves of girls- "Your charming boys, I see, are hom 'Twas very kind to bring them both— "What! little Clara left at home! "And Mr. S., I hope he's well; "Come, take a seat-I long to hear About Matilda's marriage; You're come, of course, to spend the day— (Thank Heaven I hear the carriage !) "What! must you go? next time, I hope, You'll give me longer measure; Nay-I shall see you down the stairs— (With most uncommon pleasure!) "Good-bye! good-bye! remember all, Next time you'll take your dinners! (Now, David, mind I'm not at home, In future to the Skinners!") TOWN AND COUNTRY. AN ODE. O! WELL may poets make a fuss In Greenwood shades-my eyes detest⚫ What joy have I in June's return? But faint the flagging zephyr springs, My sun his daily course renews His setting shows more tamely still, He sinks behind no purple hill, O but to hear the milkmaid blithe, That makes no hay called sparrow-grass By folks of vulgar tongue! O! but to smell the woodbines sweet! I think of cowslip cups - but meet How tenderly Rousseau reviewed I hunt in vain for eglantine, That marks the Bell and Crown: Where are ye, birds! that blithely wing From tree to tree, and gayly sing Or mourn in thickets deep? My cuckoo has some ware to sell, The watchman is my Philomel, My blackbird is a sweep! Where are ye, linnet, lark, and thrush! Where are ye, early-purling streams, Sweet are the little brooks that run Though never "off the stones." Where are ye, pastoral pretty sheep, Alas! instead of harmless crooks, My Corydons use iron hooks, And skin not shear the lambs. The pipe whereon, in olden day, But merely breathes unwholesome fumes, All rural things are vilely mocked, With objects hard to bear : Shades - vernal shades! — where wine is sold! And, for a turfy bank, behold An Ingram's rustic chair! Where are ye, London meads and bowers, And gardens redolent of flowers |