Enter Ciss.
Sylphs, well met;
Have mary-buds shut up their windows yet?
They have. You laugh; what mischief makes you glad?
I left a surly gossip almost mad!
Two cows she keeps, yet is so stingy, she,
Though she makes cheese, no curd e'er leaves for me.
Wherefore, because she eats it all herself,
A troop of mice have robb'd the dairy shelf;
I suck'd the teats too of her cattle dry,
Then in an acorn's bonnet crouch'd hard by ;
Anon, she came to milk, I peep'd and laugh'd
To see the goody lack her evening draught.
She pull'd and pull'd the dugs, and then she rail'd,
Again she pull'd, again the udders fail'd;
And now she's gone to find with many a curse,
"Bad luck arrives not till pursued by worse."
What ho! what ho! beneath yon branching vine,
A merrier, though much humbler sport was mine.
I bade the wittol snail go hide his head
For shame beneath his low mechanic shed,
While I seduc'd his vagrant spouse to roam,
And left the horned fool to sulk at home.
Swift darting through the mighty depths of air
With blazing eye, and scintillating hair
I come. Thrice ere the bat hath blink'd, have I
Whirl'd round the globe, and measur'd the vast sky.
Behold the messenger of MAB your Queen,
To night she holds her revels on the green;
Ye nimble lightnings run before her car,
And in her train ride every splendid star;
And you, ye spheres, and everlasting choirs,
Carol sweet hymns, and sweep your living lyres.
Enter a FAIRY REGENT.
Up, up ye votaries of sainted night!
You that in hills, and dales, and woods delight,
Ye fays and fairies, elves and goblins all,
Dryads, and hamadryads, wait my call;
Weave your quaint morrice these dark oaks among,
And Philomel shall cheer you with her song.
You too, ye Sylphs, spread your light wings, and fleet,
Dance on the waters with unwetted feet;
While faintly heard, when the vex'd surge is still,
The shepherd Pan shall blow his whistle shrill.
Ye Nereids fair, that under humming waves
Boast your pearl grottoes, and your coral caves;
Or frolicking upon the Sea-beat shore,
Follow the white sails, and the dashing oar;
Ye Tritons too, that in great Neptune's court
With Panope and Arethusa sport;
And you, ye Naiads, of each brook and lake,
Your glassy halls and osier groves forsake,
While o'er their pebbles rushing smooth and strong
The gurgling rills in music pass along.
Ye Gnomes, that in impenetrable rock
Earth's central caverns, and rich mines unlock;
Burst your deep bowers, where you behold in turn
Bright rubies blush, and dazzling diamonds burn.
Your founts of lava, and your silver floods,
Your golden palaces, and emerald woods,
Must not detain you!-Rise, ye sprites, arise,
And with you bring your various harmonies.
Several fantastic figures, representing Fairies, Sylphs, Gnomes, Nymphs, Salamanders, &c. enter to soft music and dance.
Now the blue fly's gone to bed,
And the shriller cricket sings,
Soft through dasied wilds we tread,
Or on tall reeds wave our wings;
Hush! our Princess is at hand,
In a mist aloft she flies,
Sprinkling dew o'er sea and land,
What time the pale star 'gins to rise;
Behind her floating chariot, soon,
Along the winding shores will creep
The fair, and silver-slippered moon,
And smile the river boys asleep.
In sedgy cradles calm they lie,
Come, take hands then, one and all, -
And, to yon tinkling waterfall,
Sing lulla, lulla, lullaby,
The Chorus repeats the burden, when the rock closes,
TO THE HON. THOMAS BRAND.
PRINCIPAL OF MARISCHAL COLLEGE, ABERDEEN.
HAPPY the man! whose wishes never roam
Beyond the precincts of his native spot,
Who tastes the simple joys of sacred home,
Nor aims, ambitious, to extend his lot.
What nature asks, to him is richly giv'n.
Fictitious ardours ne'er his breast torment,
Ne'er, on th' inconstant tides of passion, driv'n,
He seeks not pleasure, where he finds content.
By prudent culture to invite the soil
To pay, with bounteous gratitude, his care,
To brace his sinews with each manly toil,
And draw bright spirit from the buxom air;
To fill the part, by ruling heav'n, assign'd,
Thro' all the duties of his rustic sphere,
Enjoy the blessings of a cheerful mind,
A cloudless judgment, and a conscience clear.
-These are the joys that wait the simple swain
Who, to his manor, limits his desires,
Whose bosom burns not with the thirst of gain,
The lust of pleasure, or ambition's fires.
Bold independence elevates his soul
Above the blast of fame, the pow'r of crowns. He spurns the despot's, and the mob's control, Nor courts their smiles, nor apprehends their frowns.
Solicitations' anxious hopes and fears
Sweep not his bosom with alternate tides. He heeds not how the wind of favour veers, What int'rest rises, or what pow'r subsides.
He sells not truth for popular applause,
Nor haunts the levees of the man in place;
But pleads, with dauntless voice, his country's canse,
When folly blinds, or sordid arts disgrace.
He traverses, with sapient eye, the fields
That Science opens to the mental view;
Yet culls the sweetest flow'rs that fancy yields,
And wisely joins the pleasing with the true.
Beyond this scene of trouble, doubt, and fear,
Where transient joys scarce sooth our lasting pains,
He looks into a region, calm and clear,
Where happiness resides, and virtue reigns.
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