Or should the brambles, interposed, our fall And rush those other sounds, that seem by tongues By panting dog, tired man, and spatter'd horse, MORAL. Beware of desperate steps. The darkest day, EPITAPH ON JOHNSON. [Written 1785.] [As this Epitaph first appears in one of Cowper's private letters, we find "favour" instead of "glory" in the last line. HERE Johnson lies. —a sage by all allow'd, Whom to have bred may well make England proud; Whose verse may claim-grave, masculine, and strong, Who many a noble gift from Heaven possess'd, THE JOURNEY. [The date of this amusing jeu d'esprit belongs to the happy period of Cowper's intercourse with Lady Austen; and though admirably characteristic of his peculiar talent for humorous writing, has never before found a place in an edition of his collected works. The autograph was discovered by Hayley, rolled up with copies of the songs written at Lady Austen's request in 1783, as if the poet had resolved to lay aside, though not to destroy, all memorials of that connection. Through mistake of the last figure in the date, the composition appears among those of 1785.] I sing of a journey to Clifton,* We would have perform'd if we could; Poor Mary or me through the mud. Sle, sla, slud, Stuck in the mud, Oh, it is pretty to wade through a flood. So away we went slipping and sliding, Go briskly about, But they clatter, an rattle, and make such a rout. "Well DIALOGUE. SHE. now I protest it is charming, How finely the weather improves ; HE. "Pshaw! never mind, 'Tis not in the wind, We are travelling south, and shall leave it behind." * The reader will recollect that Mrs Green, Lady Austen's sister, was married to the rector of Clifton. SHE. “I am glad we are come for an airing, To stir half a mile to an end." HE. "The longer we stay, The longer we may; It's a folly to think about weather or way." SHE. "But now I begin to be frighted; You'll not be the last that will set a foot there." SHE. "Let me breathe now a little, and ponder On what it were better to do; That terrible lane I see yonder, I think we shall never get through." HE. "So think I, But, by the bye, We shall never know, if we never should try." SHE. "But should we get there, how shall we get home? Now it is plain, That struggling and striving is labour in vain." HE. "Stick fast there, while I go and look." SHE. "Don't go away for fear I should fall. HE. "I have examined it every nook, And what you have here is a sample of all : The dirt we have found, Would buy an estate at a farthing a pound." Now, sister Ann, the guitar you must take, Which critics won't blame, For the sense and the sound they say should be the same. TO MISS C, ON HER BIRTH-DAY. [Presented to Miss Chester, the daughter of Mr Chester of Chichely, the brother-in-law of the Rev. Mr Bagot, so often mentioned in the Poet's letters. Written 1786.] How many between east and west, Whose deeds constrain us to detest We can rejoice that she was born, And wish her born once more! GRATITUDE. ADDRESSED TO LADY HESKETH. * [1786.] THIS cap, that so stately appears, She gave it, and gave me beside, The ribbon with which it is tied : This wheel-footed studying chair, These carpets, so soft to the foot, Secure from collision and dust, This moveable structure of shelves, For its beauty admired and its use, * It is with this cap that Cowper is represented in his usual portraits. |