Page images

Or Gothic turret, pride of ancient days !

Then swift as light, he sought the love-Jorn maid, Now but of use to grace a rural scene;

But vainly sought her; torn by swifter Fate To bound our vistas, and to glad the sons

To join the tenants of the myrtle shade, of George's reign, reservd for fairer times ! Love's mournful victims on the plains below.

Soinetimes, as Fancy spoke the pleasing task, She taught ber artful needle to display

The varius pride of Spring: then swift upsprung LOVE AND HONOUR.

Thickets of myrtle, eglantine, and rose:

There might you see, on gentle toils intent, Sed neque Medorum sylvæ, ditissima terra, A train of busy Loves; some plack the flower, Nec pulcher Ganges, atque auro turbidus Hæmus, Some twine the garland, some with grave grimace Laudibus Angligenûm certent: non Bactra, nec Indi, Around a vacant warrior cast the wreath.. Totaque thuriferis Panchaia pinguis arenis. 'Twas paint, 't was life! and sure to piercing eyes

The warrior's face depictur'd Henry's mien.

Now had the generous chief with joy perus'd Ler the green olive glad Hesperian shores ; The royal scroll, which to their native home, Her tawny citron, and her vrange groves,

Their ancient rights, uninjur'd, unredeem'd, These let Iberia boast; but if in vain,

Restor'd the captives. Forth with rapid baste
To win the stranger plant's diffusive sinile, To glad his fair Elvira's ear, he sprung ;
The Briton labours, yet our native minds,

Fird by the bliss he panted to convey;
Our constant bosoms-these, the dazzled world But fird in vain! Ah! what was his ainaze,
May view with envy; these, Iberian dames His fond distress, when o'er her pallid face
Survey with fixt esteem and fond desire.

Dejection reign’d, and from her lifeless hand
Hapless Elvira ! thy disastrous fate

Down dropp'd the myrtle's fair untinish'd flower! May well this truth explain, nor ill adorn Speechless she stood; at length with accents faint, The British lyre; then chiefly, if the Muse, “ Well may my native shore,” she said, "resound Nor vain, nor partial, from the simple guise Thy monarch's praise; and ere Elvira prove Of ancient record catch the pensive lay :

Of thine forgetful, flowers shall cease to feel And in less grovelling accents give to fame. The fostering breeze, and Nature change her laws.” Elvira ! loveliest majd ! th’ Iberian realm

And now the grateful edict wide alarm'd Could boast no purer breast, no sprightlier mind, The British host. Around the smiling youths, No race more splendent, and no form so fair. Call’d to their native scenes, with willing haste Such was the chance of war, this peerless maid Their feet uninoor'd; impatient of the love Jo life's luxuriant bloom enrich'd the spoil That weds each bosom to its native soil. Of British victors victory's noblest pride ! The patriot passion, strong in every clime, She, she alone, amid the wailful train

How justly theirs, who find no foreign sweets Of captive maids, assign'd to Henry's care ; To dissipate their loves, or match their own. Lord of her life, her fortune, and her fame!

Not so Elvira : sbe, disastrous maid, He, generous youth, with no penurious hand, Was doubly captive! Power nor Chance could The tedious moments that unjoyous roll

loose Where freedom's cheerful radiance shines no The subtle bands; she lov'd her generous foe. more,

She, where her Henry dwelt, her Henry smild, Essay'd to soften; conscious of the pang

Could terın ber native shore; ber native shore, That Beauty feels, to waste its fleeting hours By him deserted, some unfriendly strand, In some dim fort, by foreign rule restrain'd, Strange, bleak, forlorn! a desert waste and wild. Far from the baunts of men, or eye of Day!

The fleet careen'd, the wind propitious fill'd Sometimes, to cheat her bosom of its cares, The swelling sails, the glittering transports wav'd Her kind protector number'd o'er the toils Their pennants gay, and halcyon's azure wing Himself had worn: the frowns of angry seas, With flight auspicious skimm'd the placid main. Or hostile rage, or faithless friend more fell

On her lone couch in tears Elvira lay,
Than storm or fue: if haply she might find And chid th' officious wind the tempting sea,
Her cares diminish'd; fruitless fond essay ! And wish'd a storm as merciless, as tore
Now to her lovely hand, with modest awe

Her labouring bosom. Pondly now she strove The tender lute he gave: she, not averse

To banish passion; now the vassal days, Nor destitute of skill, with willing hand

The captive moments, that so smoothly pass'd, Call'd forth angelic strains; the sacred debt By many an art recall'd; now from her lute Of gratitude, she said, whose just commands With trembling fingers call’d the favourite sounds Still might her hand with equal pride obey ! Which Henry deign'd to praise; and now essay'd

Nor to the melting sounds the nymph refus'd With mimic chains of silken fillets wore Her vocal art; harmonious, as the strain

To paint her captive state; if any fraud
Of some imprison'd lark, who, daily cheer'd Might to her love the pleasing scenes prolong,
By guardian cares, repays them with a song : And with the dear idea feast the soul.
Nor droops, nor deems sweet liberty resign'd. But now the chief return'd; prepar'd to launch

The song, not artless, bad she fram'd to paint On Ocean's willing breast, and bid adieu
Disastrous passion; how by tyrant laws

To his fair prisoner. She, soon as she heard
Of idiot Custom sway'd, some soft-ey'd fair His hated errand, now no more conceal'd
Lov'd only one : nor dard that love reveal! The raging fame; but, with a spreading blush
How the soft anguish banish'd from her cheek And rising sigh, the latent pang disclos'd.
The damask rose full-blown; a fever came; Yes, generous youth! I see thy bosom glow
end from her bosom forc'd the plaintive tale. With virtuous transport, that the task is thine

To solve my chains; and to my weeping friends, | My sweet experience taught me to decide
And every longing relative, restore

Of Englisb worth, the sound had pleas'd mine ear. A soft-ey'd maid, a mild offenceless prey !

Is there that savage coast, that rude sojourn, But know, my soldier, never youthful mind, | Stranger to British worth the worth which forms Torn from the lavish joys of wild expense

The kindest friends; the most tremendous foes; By him he loath'd, and in a dungeon bound First, best supports of liberty and love; To languish out his bloom, could catch the pains No; let subjected India, while she throws This ill-starr'd freedom gives my tortur'd mind. O'er Spanish deeds the veil, your praise resound. .

" What call I freedom ? is it that these limbs, Long as I heard, or ere in story read From rigid bolts secure, may wander far

Of English fame, my bias'd partial breast From him I love? Alas! ere I may boast

Wish'd them success, and, happiest sbe, I cried, That sacred blessing, some superior power

Of woman happiest she, who shares the love, To mortal kings, to sublunary thrones,

The fame, the virtues, of an English lord ! Must loose my passion, must unchain iny soul. And now what shall I say? blest be the hour E'en that I loath; all liberty I loath!

Your fair-built vessels touch'd th’ Iberian shore : But most i he joyless privilege to gaze

Blest did I say the time? --if I may bless With cold indifference, where desert is love.

That lov'd event, let Henry's smiles declare. “True, I was born an alien to those eyes Our hearts and cities won, Will Henry's youth I ask alone to please; my fortune's crime!

Porego its nobler conquest ? will be slight And ah! this flatter'd form by dress endear'd The soft endearments of the lovelier spoil ? To Spanish eyes, by dress may thine offend, And yet Iberia's sous, with every vow Whilst I, ill-fated maid ! ordain'd to strive Of lasting faith, hare sworn these humble charms With Custom's load, beneath its weight expire. Were not excell'd; the source of all their pains,

“Yet Henry's beauties knew in foreign garb And love her just desert, who sues for love; To vanquish me! his form, howe'er disguis'd, But sues to thee, while natives sigh in vain. To me were fatal! no fantastic robe

“Perhaps in Henry's eye (for vulgar minds That e'er Caprice invented, Custom wore,

Dissent from his) it spreads a hateful stain Or Folly smild on, could eclipse thy charms. On honest Fame, amid bis train to bear

“ Perhaps by Birth decreed, by Fortune plac'd A female friend. Then learn, my gentle youth ! Thy country's foe, Elvira's warmest plea

Not Love himself, with all the pointed pains Seems but the subtler accent Fraud inspires ; That store his quiver, sball seduce my soul My tenderest glances, but the specious flowers From Honour's laws. Elvira once denied That shade the viner while she plots her wound. A consort's name, more swift than lightning flies And can the trembling candidate of Love

When elements discordant rex the sky, Awake thy fears and can a female breast, Shall blushing from the form she loves retire. By ties of grateful duty bound, ensnare?

“ Yet if the specious wish the vulgar voice Is there no brighter mien, no softer smile

Has titled Prudence, sways a soul like thine, For Love to wear, to dark deceit unknown?

In gems or gold what proud Iberian dame Heaven search my soul, and if through all its Eclipses me? Nor paint the dreary storms cells

Or hair-breadth 'scapes that haunt the boundless Lurk the pernicious drop of poisonous guile;

Full on my fenceless head its phiald wrath And force from tender eyes the silent tear;
May Fate exhaust; and for my happiest hour When memory to the pensive maid suggests,
Exalt the vengeance I prepare for thee!

In full contrast, the safe domestic scene
“Ah me! nor Henry's, nor his country's foe, For these resign'd. Beyond the frantic rage
On thee I gaz'd, and Reason soon dispellid

Of conqucring heroes brave, the female mind, Dim Errour's gloom, and to thy favour'd isle When steel'd by Love, in Love's most horrid way Assign'd its total merit, unrestrain'd.

Beholds not danger, or beholding scorns. Oh! lovely region to the candid eye!

Heaven take my life, but let it crown my love." T was there my fancy saw the Virtues dwell, | She ceas'd: and, ere bis words her fate decreed, The Loves, the Graces play; and blest the soil Inpatient watch'd the language of his eye: That nurtur'd thee! for sure the Virtues form’d There Pity dwelt, and from its tender sphere Thy generous breast; the Loves, the Graces, plann'd Sent looks of love, and faithless hopes inspir'd. Thy shapely limbs. Relation, Birth, essay'd Forgive me, generous maid," the youth reTheir partial power in vain : again I gaz'd,

turn'd, And Albion's isle appear'd, amidst a tract

1“ If by thy accents charm’d, thus long I bore Of savage wastes, the darling of the skies !

To let such sweetness plead, alas ! in vain! And thou by Nature form’d, by Fate assign'd, Thy virtae merits more than crowns can yield To paint the genius of thy native shore,

Of solid bliss, or happiest love bestow. “'Tis true, with flowers, with many a dazzling | But ere from native shores I plough'd the main, scene

To one dear maid, by viriue and by charms Of burnish'd plants, to lure a female eye,

Alone endear'd, my plighted vows I gave; Iberia glows : but ah! the genial Sun,

To guard my faith, whatever chance should wait That gilds the lemou's fruit, or scents the flower, My warring sword : if conquest, fame, and spoil, On Spanish minds, a nation's nobler boast!

Grac'd my return, before her feet to pour Beams forth upgentle influences. There

The glittering treasure, and the laurel wrea th Sits Jealousy enthron'd, and at each ray

Enjoying conquest then, and fame, and spoil; Exultant lights bis slow-consuming fires.

If Fortune frown'd adverse, and Death forbade Not such thy charming region ; long before The blissful union, with my latest breath


To dwell on Medway's and Maria's name.

This ardent row, deep-rooted, from my soul
No dangers tore; This vow my bosom fir'd
To conquer danger, and the spoils enjoy.

Auditæ voces, vagitus et ingens,
Her shall I leave, with fair events elate,
Whu crown'd mine humblest fortune with her Infantumque animæ flentes in limine primo. Virs.

Her shall I leave, who now perchance alone
Climbs the proud cliff, and chides my slow return?

What particulars in Spenser were imagined most And shall that vessel, whose approaching sails

proper for the author's imitation on this occaShall swell her breast with ecstasies, convey

sion, are his language, his simplicity, his manner Death to her hopes, and anguish to her soul?

of description, and a peculiar tenderness of senNo! may the deep my villain-corse devour,

timent remarkable throughout his works. If all the wealth Iberian mines conceal, If all the charms Iberian maids disclose,

Au me! full sorely is my heart forlorn, If thine, Elvira, thine, uniting all !

To think how modest Worth neglected lies Thus far prevail-nor can thy virtuous breast While partial Fame doth with her blasts adora Demand what Honour, Faith, and Love, denies." Such deeds alone, as pride and pomp disguise ;

“Oh! happy she,” rejoin'd the pensire maid, Deeds of ill sort, and mischievous emprise: " Who shares thy fame, thy virtue, and thy love! Lend me thy clarion, goddess ! let me try And be she happy! thy distinguish'd choice To sound the praise of Merit, ere it dies, Declares her worth, and vindicates her claim. Such as I oft have chaunced to espy, Farewell my luckless hopes, my flattering dreams Lost in the dreary shades of dull Obscurity. Of rapturous days ! my guilty suit, farewell!

In every village mark'd with little spire, Yet, fond howe'er my plea, or deep the wound

Embower'd in trees, and hardly known to Fame, That waits my fame, let not the random shaft

There dwells in lowly shed, and mean attire, Of Censure pierce with me th' Iberian dames :

A matron old, whom we School-mistress name; They love with caution, and with happier stars.

Who boasts unruly brats with birch to tame; And oh! by pity mov'd, restrain the taunts

They grieven sore, in piteous durance pent, Of levity, nor brand Elvira's flame;

Aw'd by the power of this relentless dame; By merit rais'd; by gratitude approv'd;

And oft-times, on vagaries idly bent, By hope confirm'd; with artless truth reveal’d;

For unkempt hair, or task unconn'd, are sorely shent. Let, let me say, but for one matchless maid Of happier birth, with mutual ardour crown'd. And all in sight doth rise a birchen tree,

“ These radiant gems, which burnish bappiness, Which Learning near her little dome did stowe; But mock misfortune, to thy favourite's hand Whilom a twig of small regard to see, With care convey. And well may such adorn Though now so wide its waving branches flow; Her cheerful front, who finds in thee alone

And work the simple vassal's mickle woe; The source of every transport'; but disgrace

For not a wind might curl the leaves that blew, My pensive breast, which, doom'd to lasting woe,

But their limbs shudder'd, and their pulse beat In thee the source of every bliss resigns. “And now farewel, thou darling youth! the gem

And as they look'd they found their hortour grew, Of English merit! Peace, Content, and Joy,

And shap'd it into rods, and tingled at the view. And tender Hopes, and young Desires, farewel! So have I seen (who has not, may conceive) Attend, ye smiling train, this gallant mind

A lifeless phantom near a garden plac'd; Back to his native shores; there sweetly smooth So doth it wanton birds of peace bereave, His evening pillow ; dance aronnd his groves ; Of sport, of song, of pleasure, of repast; And, where he treads, with violets paint his way.

They start, they stare, they wheel, they look But leave Elvira! leave her, now no more

Sad servitude! such comfortless annoy [aghast; Your frail companion! In the sacred cells

May no bold Briton's riper age e'er taste! Of some lone cloister let me shroud my shame:

Ne superstition clog his dance of joy, There, to the matin bell, obsequious, pour No vision empty, vain, his native bliss destroy. My constant orisons. The wanton Loves,

Near to this dome is found a patch so green, And gay Desires, shall spy the glimmering towers,

On which the tribe their gambols do display; And wing their fight aloof: but rest confirm'd,

And at the door imprisoning-board is seen, That never shall Elvira's tongue conclude

Lest weakly wights of smaller size should stray; Her shortest prayer, cre Henry's dear success

Eager, perdie, to bask in sunny day! The warmest accent of her zeal employ.”

The noises intermix'd, which thence resound, Thus spoke the weeping fair, whose artless mind

Do Learning's little tenement betray: Impartial scorn'd to model her esteem

Where sits the dame, disguis'd in look profound, By native customs; dress, and face, and air,

And eyes her fairy throng, and turns her wheel And manners, le-s; nor yet resolv'd in rain.

around. Hle, bound by prior love, the solemn vow Given and receiv'd, to soft compassion gave

Her cap, far whiter than the driven snow, A tender tear; then with that kind adieu

Emblem right meet of decency does yield : Esteem could warrant, wearied Heaven with prayers Her apron dy'd in grain, as blue, I trowe, To sbield that tender breast he left forlorn.

As is the hare-bell that adorns the field: He ceas'd ; and to the cloister's pensize scene And in her hand, for sceptre, she does wield Elvira shap'd her solitary way.

Tway birchen sprays; with anxious fear entwind,


With dark distrust, and sad repentance filld; Simplicity then sought this humble cell,

And stedfast hate, and sharp affliction join'd, Nor ever would she more with thane and lordling And fury uncontrould, and chastisement unkind, dwell.

Few but have ken'd, in semblance meet pour- Here oft the dame, on Sabbath's decent eve,
The childish faces of old Eol's train; (tray'd, Hymned such psalms as Sternhold forth did mete,
Libs, Notus, Auster: these in frowns array'd, If winter 't were, she to her hearth did cleave,
How then would fare or Earth, or Sky, or Main, But in her garden found a summer-seat :
Were the stern god to give his slaves the rein? Sweet melody! to hear her then repeat
And were not she rebellious breasts to quell, How Israel's sons, beneath a foreign king,
And were not she her statutes to maintain, While taunting foe men did a song entreat,

The cot no more, I ween, were deem'd the cell, All, for the nonce, uptuning every string,
Where comely peace of mind, and decentorder dwell. Uphung their useless lyres-small heart had they
A russet stole was o'er her shoulders thrown;

to sing. A russet kirtle fenc'd the nipping air;

For she was just, and friend to virtuous lore, 'T' was simple russet, but it was her own;

And pass'd much time in truly virtuous deed; 'T was her own country bred the flock so fair! And in those elfins' ears, would oft deplore "T was her own labour did the fleece prepare; The times, when Truth by Popish rage did bleed; And, sooth to say, her pupils, rang'd around, And tortious death was true Devotion's meed; Through pious awe, did term it passing rare; And simple Faith in iron chains did mourn, For they in gaping wonderment abound,

That nould on wooden image place her creed; And think, no doubt, she been the greatest wight And lawny saints in smouldering flames did burn: on ground.

Ah ! dearest Lord, forefend, thilk days should e'er Albeit ne flattery did corrupt her truth,

return. Ne pompous title did bebauch her ear;

In elbow-chair, like that of Scottish stem Goody, good-woman, gossip, n'aunt, forsooth, By the sharp tooth of cankering eld defacid, Or dame, the sole additions she did bear;

In which, when he receives his diadem, Yet these she challeng'd, these she held right dear: Our sovereign prince and liefest liege is plac'd, Ne would esteem him act as mought behove, The matron sate; and some with rank she grac'd, Who should not honour'd eld with these revere: (The source of children's and of courtiers' pride!) For never title yet so mean could prove,

Redress'd affronts, for vile affronts there pass'd; But there was eke a mind which did that title love. And warn’d them not the fretful to deride, One ancient hen she took delight to feed,

But love each other dear, whatever them betide. The plodding pattern of the busy dame;

Right well she knew each temper to descry; Which, ever and anon, impell’d by need,

To thwart the proud, and the submiss to raise; Into her school, begirt with chickens, came! Some with vile copper-prize exalt on high, Such favour did her past deportment claim: And some entice with pittance small of praise ; And, if Neglect had lavish'd on the ground And other some with baleful sprig sbe 'frays: Fragment of bread, she would collect the same; E'en absent, she the reins of power doth hold, For well she knew, and quaintly could expound, While with quaint arts the giddy crowd shesways: What sin it were to waste the smallest crumb she Forewarn’d, if little bird their pranks behold, found.

'T will whisper in her ear, and all the scene unfold. Herbs too she knew, and well of each could speak Lo now with state she utters the command ! That in her garden sipp'd the silvery dew;

Eftsoons the urdhins to their tasks repair; Where no vain flower disclos'd a gawdy streak; Their books of stature small they take in hand, But herbs for use, and physic, not a few,

Which with pellucid horn secured are, Of grey renown, within those borders grew : To save from finger wet the letters fair: The tufted basil, pun-provoking thyme,

The work so gay that on their back is seen, Fresh baum, and marygold of cheerful hue; St. George's high achievements does declare; The lowly gill, that never dares to climb;

On which thilk wight that has y-gazing been, And more I fain would sing, disdaining here to Kens the forth-coming rod, unpleasing sight, I ween! rhyme.

Ah luckless he, and born beneath the beam Yet euphrasy may not be left unsung,

Of evil star! it irks me whilst I write: That gives dim eyes to wander leagues around ; As erst the bard' by Mulla's silver stream, And pungent radish, biting infants' tongue ; Oft, as he told of deadly dolorous plight, And plantain ribb’d, that heals the reaper's Sigh'd as he sung, and did in tears indite. wound;

For brandishing the rod, she doth begin And marjoram sweet, in shepherd's posie found; To loose the brogues, the stripling's late delight! And lavender, whose spikes of azure bloom And down they drop; appears his dainty skin, Shall be, ere-while, in arid bundles bound, Fair as the furry-coat of whitest ermilin.

To lurk amidst the labours of her loom, [fume. O ruthful scene! when from a nook obscure, And crown her kerchiefs clean, with mickle rare per- His little sister doth his peril see:

And here trim rosemarine, that whilom crown'd All playful as she sate, she grows demure; The daintiest garden of the proudest peer;

She tinds full soun her wonted spirits flee; Ere, driven from its envied site, it found

She meditates a prayer to set him free:
A sacred shelter for its branches here;

Nor gentle pardon could this dame deny
Where edg'd with gold its glittering skirts appear, (If gentle pardon could with dames agree)
Oh wassel days! O customs incet and well!
Ere this was banish'd from its lofty sphere:

• Spenser.

To her sad grief that swells in either eye,

Yet nurs'd with skill, what dazzling fruits appear! And wings her so that all for pity she could dye. E'en now sagacious Foresight points to show No longer can she now her shrieks command;

A little bench of heedless bishops here,

And there a chancellour in embryo,
And hardly she forbears, through awful fear,
To rushen forth, and, with presumptuous hand,

Or bard sublime, if bard may e'er be so,
To stay harsh Justice in its mid career.

As Milton, Shakespeare, names that ne'er shall die! On thee she calls, on thee her parent dear!

Though now he crawl along the ground so low, (Ah! too remote to ward the shameful blow!)

Nor weeting how the Muse should soar on high, She sees no kind domestic visage near,

Wisheth, poor starveling elf! his paper kite may fiy. And soon a flood of tears begins to flow;

And this perhaps, who, censuring the design, And gives a loose at last to unavailing woe.

Low lays the house which that of cards doth build, But ah! what pen his piteous plight may trace?

Shall Dennis be! if rigid Fate incline, Or what device his loud laments explain?

And many an epic to his rage shall yield; The form uncouth of his disguised face?

And many a poet quit th’ Aonian field; The pallid hne that dyes his looks amain ?

And, sour'd by age, profound he shall appear, The plenteous shower that does bis cheek distain?

*As he who now with 'sdainful fury thrill'd When he, in abject wise, implores the dame,


Surveys mine work; and levels many a sneer, Ne hupeth aught of sweet reprieve to gain;

And furls bis wrinkly front, and cries, « What Or when from bigh she levels well her aim,

stuff is bere?' And, through the thatch, bis cries each falling But now Dan Phæbus gains the middle skie, stroke proclaim.

And Liberty unbars her prison-door; The other tribe, aghast, with sore dismay,

And like a rushing torrent out they fly, Attend, and conn their tasks with mickle care:

And now the grassy cirque had cover'd o'er By turns, astony'd, every twig survey,

With bois.erous revel-rout and wild uproar; And, from their fellows' hateful wounds, beware;

A thousand ways in wanton rings they run, Knowing, I wist, how each the same may share;

Heaven shield their short-liv'd pastimes, I implore! Till fear has taught them a performance meet,

For well may Freedom erst so dearly won, And to the well-kpowy chest the dame repair;

Appear to British elf more gladsume than the Sun. Whenceoft with sugar'd cates shedotb them greet, Enjoy, poor imps ! enjoy your sportive trade, And ginger-bread y-rare; now certes, doubly sweet! And chase gay flies, and cull the fairest flowers; See to their seats they hve with merry glee,

For when my bones in grass-green sods are laid; And in beseemly order sitten there;

For never may ve taste more careless hours. All but the wight of bum y-galled, he

In knightly castles, or in ladies' bowers. Abhorreth bench, and stool, and four, and chair;

O vain to seek delight in earthly !hing ! (This hand in mouth y-fix'd, that rends his hair ;)

But most in courts where proud Ambition towers; And eke with snubs profound, and heaving breast,

Deluded wight! who weens fair Peace can spring Convulsions intermitting! dres declare

Beneath the pompous dome of kear or of king. His grievous wrong; lis dame's unjust behest; See in each sprite some various bent appear! And scorns her offer'd love, and shuns to be caress'd. These rudely carol most incondite lay;

His face besprent with liquid crystal shines, Those sauntering on the green, with jocund leer His blooming face that seems a purple flower,

Salute the stranger passing on his way; Which low to eartb its druoping bead declines, Some builden fragile tenements of clay; All sinear't and sullied by a veral shower.

Same to the standing lake their courses bend, O the hard wsums of despotic power!

With pebbles smooth at duck and drake to play; All, all, but she, the author of his shame,

Thilk to the huster's savory cottage tend, All, all, but she, regret this mournful nour: In pastry kings and queens th'allotted mite to spend. Yet hence the youth, and hence the flower shall

Here, as each season yields a different store, claim

Each season's stores in order ranged been; If so I deem aright, transcending worth and fanie.

Apples with cabbage-net y-corer'd ver, Behind some door, in melancholy thought, Galling full sore th' unmoney'd wight, are seen ; Mindless of food, he, dreary caitiff! pines,

And goose-b’rie clad in livery red or green; Die for bis fellous' joyaunce cartih aught,

And here of lovely dye, the catharine pear, But to the wind all merriment resigns ;

Pine pear! as lovely for thy juice, I ween: And deeis it shame, if he tu , eace inclines;

O may no wight e'er pennyless come there, And many a sullen look ascance is sent,

Lest smit with ardent love he pine with hopeless-care! Which für bis dame's annoyance he designs ;

See! cherries here, ere cberries yet abound, And still the more to pleasure him she's bent,

With thread so white in tempting posies tyd, The more duth be, perverse, her haviour past resent.

Scattering like blooming maid their glances round, Ah me! how much I fear lest pride it be!

With pamper'd look draw little eyes aside; Bu if ihat pride it be, which thus inspires,

And must be bought, though penury betide. Beware, ye dames, with nice discernment see, The plumb all azure and the nut all brown, Ye quench not too the sparks of nobler fires: And here each season do those cakes abide, Ah! better far than all the Muses' lyres,

Whose honour'd names? th' incentive city own, Ul coward arts, is Valour's generous heat; Rendering through Britain's isle Salopia's praises The firm fixt breast which it and right requires,

known, Like Veron's patriot soul! more justly great Thar Craft that pimps for ill, or flowery false Deceit.

? Shrewsbury cakes

« PreviousContinue »