But though on folded paws tuck'd in,
And knuckled close beneath thy chin,
Yet still thy eyes, whate'er I do,
With active glance my hands pursue.
And hark! my scribbling pen, with scratches,
Thy quick, attentive ear now catches.
Impatient quite, yet slowly rising,
Because intent upon surprising,
With gentle step, and cautious fear,
Thou creepest on-till station'd near,
With eager wrigglings to express
Thy purpose and secure success,
Quick as at mouse in rustling straw,
Thou dartest underneath thy paw;
Then rais'd erect, up goes my paper,
With gamesome cuff, and noddling caper.
But this rude trick, though far from pleasing,
Is yet so comically teazing,
That, quite unable to resent,
I laugh, and take it as 'twas meant,
And having plac'd all matters right,
Calmly proceed again to write.
And now each letter that I trace
Thou dost inspect with serious face;
Musing, as if at loss to know
What such marks mean, and whence they flow:
But still perplext, and longing much
To feel, if palpable to touch,
Thy curious foot, to clear the doubt,
Whips in, and blots my writing out.
More teazing this; but love prevailing,
I overlook this second failing.
But thou more bold, the more excus'd,
(And kindness thus is oft abus'd)
Some fresh assault hast soon devis'd,
And ere of thy intent appris'd,
Snatch'd from my hand, with flippant paw,
My mumbled pen I see thee gnaw.
Rous'd at a frolic so provoking,
And much too angry grown for joking,
I snatch my pen, and loudly scold,
Mynx, Hussy, Slut, let go thy hold!
What tug? Take heed, for, if I catch thee
Once more at this, I vow I'll match thee.
These threats despis'd, I then repress,
With flip on nose, thy sauciness.
At this rebuff, thy neck close shrinking,
Thy whiskers flat, and eyelids blinking,
Thou sneakest back, with sad dismay,
And looks that conscious guilt betray;
Looks sweetly aw'd, such looks as prove
Thy pertness lost, but not thy love.
And now, as griev'd for insults past,
On me thy pleading eyes are cast:
But, soon dispell'd each gloomy fear,
Fair gleams of hope thy aspect cheer.
And well, sweet puss, mayst thou believe
That, like thyself, I can forgive;
For 'tis a doubt which most repents,
Or which most willingly relents.
And yet, methinks, I wish thee gone;
I'm busy; we'll be friends anon.
Come, Puss, march down, and if this blow
Should fret and vex thee, when below
Then show it, or on rat, or mouse,
Our common foes, within this house:
Thus may thy vented spleen be eas'd,
And thus my anger best appeas'd.
ALL hail! rosy bowers, beneath whose soft shade
The passion I felt for my swain was betray'd;
Dear spot! where I first had occasion to prove
A match how unequal was prudence and love.
My hand when he touch'd, like the electrical flame,
The charm, swift as thought, shot and kindled my frame,
With a kiss yet I thought it no danger to part,
So distant I fancied
But th' effect of the magic my eyes soon confest,
And, more than my tongue could, my blushes exprest,
Ye traitors! ah! why to the youth make it known,
That each outline was gain'd, and the fortress his own.
Ye trees! did ye not with the zephyrs conspire,
To hide my confusion, and fan the soft fire?
I saw each fond branch with its neighbour entwine,
And leaf press to leaf, with an ardour like mine.
With sweet hymencals the birds fill'd the grove,
In each look and each sound there was nothing but
From nature thus rapt the infection was caught,
And I only practis'd the lesson she taught.
ON THE MARRIAGE OF COL. ELLIOT AND MISS
STRIKE! loudly strike the lyric string,
To bridal Love devote the song;
Let every Muse a garland bring,
And joy the festive note prolong.
To beauteous LETTSOM *, young as fair,
Soft as her manners pour the warbled lay;
A nobler, bolder strain prepare,
To hail brave ELLIOT + on his nuptial day!
Mirth airy child of young Delight,
And Fancy, eldest born of Jove,
Haste at the Syren call of Love;
And now, while Health and Youth unite,
And Nature wears her loveliest smile,
With dance and song the hours beguile:
TO BEAUTY in its loveliest prime,
TO WORTH in radiant armour bright,
That burns in Britain's cause to fight,
Swell the loud symphonies sublime!
In Camberwell's delightful Grove proclaim
That Love and Valour blend their spotless flame.
Ye blooming Nymphs and happy Swains
Haste to yon bower where Pleasure reigns,
*Of Grove-hill, Camberwell.
↑ Golonel of the Westminster Volunteer Cavalry.
And while, with measur'd steps, ye move
Through the green mazes of the grove,
With laurels bind the Bridegroom's brow,
Eternal as the nuptial vow;
And wreaths of sweetest flowers prepare
For lov'd ELIZA's auburn hair.
Let odours, from Arabian vales,
Breathe gently on the balmy gales,
And not a sound in Æther float,
Save the soft Dove's enamour'd note,
Till the bright star of Evening rise
Auspicious to the Lover's sighs;
And Cynthia, with her paler fire,
Warn lingering Beauty to retire.
Oh! ever may the circling hours
New blessings on their pinions bring;
Health that no cankering care devours,
And Pleasure that shall leave no sting!
May yonder Sun, as o'er this nether sphere
He rolls his chariot of æthereal gold,
Beneath his orb no happier pair behold,
But, ceaseless, as he runs his bright career,
View rolling years their stedfast faith improve,
And CHILDREN'S CHILDREN crown their virtuous
love!
EPIGRAM.
FROM THE FRENCH.
DAMIS, an author cold and weak,
Thinks as a critic he's divine;
Likely enough we often make
Good vinegar of sorry wine.
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