[ 337 ]

Herbs too she knew, and well of each could speak
That in her garden fip'd the filv'ry dew;
Where no vain flow'r difclos'd a gawdy streak
But herbs for use, and phyfick, not a few,
Of grey renown, within those borders grew:
The tufted bafil, pun-provoking thyme,

Fresh baum, and mary-gold of chearful hue;
The lowly gill, that never dares to climb;
And more I fain would fing, difdaining here to rhyme.

Yet euphrafy may not be left unfung,

That gives dim eyes to wander leagues around; And pungent radish, biting infant's tongue; And plantain ribb'd, that heals the reaper's wound; And marj'ram fweet, in fhepherd's pofie found; And lavender, whose spikes of azure bloom Shall be, ere-while, in arid bundles bound, To lurk amidft the labours of her loom, Andcrownher kerchiefs clean, with mickle rare perfume.

And here trim rofmarine, that whilom crown'd
The daintiest garden of the proudest peer;
Ere, driven from its envy'd fite, it found
A facred shelter for its branches here;
Where edg'd with gold its glitt'ring skirts appear.
Oh waffel days; O customs meet and well!
Ere this was banish'd from its lofty sphere:
Simplicity then fought this humble cell,

Nor ever would fhe more with thane and lordling dwell.

Hymned fuch pfalms as STERNHOLD forth did mete,
If winter 'twere, fhe to her hearth did cleave;
But in her garden found a fummer feat:

Righ To t Some

And

Sweet melody! to hear her then repeat

And

How ISRAEL'S fons, beneath a foreign king,

Ev'n

While taunting foe-men did a fong intreat,

Whi

Fore

'Twill

Lo

Eftf

All, for the nonce, untuning ev'ry string, Uphung their useless lyres-fmall heart had they to fing.

For fhe was juft, and friend to virtuous lore,
And pafs'd much time in truly virtuous deed;
And, in those elfins' ears, would oft deplore
The times, when truth by popifh rage did bleed;
And tortious death was true devotion's meed;
And fimple faith in iron chains did mourn,
That nould on wooden image place her creed;
And lawny faints in fmould'ring flames did burn:
Ah! deareft Lord,forefend,thilk days fhould e'er return.

In elbow chair, like that of Scottish stem
By the sharp tooth of cank'ring eld defac'd,
In which, when he receives his diadem,
Our fovereign prince and liefest liege is plac'd,
The matron fate; and fome with rank fhe grac❜d,
(The fource of children's and of courtier's pride!)
Redrefs'd affronts, for vile affronts there pafs'd;
And warn'd them not the fretful to deride,
But love each other dear, whatever them betide.

3

The Whi To The

St.

On

Kens t

ᎪᏂ

Of

As

Oft Sig

For

To

An

Fair a

Right

[ 339 ]

Right well she knew each temper to defcry; To thwart the proud, and the submiss to raise; Some with vile copper prize exalt on high, And some entice with pittance fmall of praise; And other fome with baleful fprig fhe 'frays: Ev'n absent, she the reins of pow'r doth hold, While with quaint arts the giddy crowd she sways; Forewarn'd, if little bird their pranks behold, 'Twill whisper in her ear, and all the scene unfold.

Lo now with ftate fhe utters the command! Eftfoons the urchins to their tasks repair; Their books of stature small they take in hand, Which with pellucid horn fecured are; To fave from finger wet the letters fair: The work fo gay, that on their back is feen, St. GEORGE's high atchievements does declare ; On which thilk wight that has y-gazing been, Kens the forth-coming rod, unpleafing fight, I ween!

Ah lucklefs he, and born beneath the beam
Of evil ftar! it irks me whilft I write !

As erft the bard by MULLA's filver stream,
Oft, as he told of deadly dolorous plight,
Sigh'd as he fung, and did in tears indite.
For brandishing the rod, fhe doth begin
To loose the brogues, the stripling's late delight!

And down they drop; appears his dainty skin,
Fair as the furry coat of whiteft ermilin.

Z 2

O ruth

• SPENSER,

O ruthful scene! when from a nook obfcure,
His little fifter doth his peril fee:

demure,

All playful as fhe fate, fhe grows
She finds full foon her wonted spirits flee;
She meditates a pray'r to set him free :
Nor gentle pardon could this dame deny,
(If gentle pardon could with dames agree)
To her fad grief that fwells in either eye,
And wrings her fo that all for pity fhe could dye.

Nor longer can fhe now her fhrieks command;
And hardly the forbears, thro' aweful fear,
To rufhen forth, and, with prefumptuous hand,
To stay harsh justice in its mid career.

On thee she calls, on thee her parent dear!
(Ah! too remote to ward the shameful blow!)
She fees no kind domeftic vifage near,
And foon a flood of tears begins to flow;
And gives a loose at last to unavailing woe.

But ah! what pen his piteous plight may trace? Or what device his loud laments explain? The form uncouth of his disguised face? The pallid hue that dyes his looks amain? The plenteous fhow'r that does his cheek distain ? When he, in abject wife, implores the dame, Ne hopeth aught of fweet reprieve to gain; Or when from high fhe levels well her aim, And,thro'thethatch,hiscrieseach fallingstroke proclaim.

The

[ 341 ]

The other tribe, aghaft, with fore dismay,
Attend, and conn their tasks with mickle care :
By turns, aftony'd, ev'ry twig furvey,

And, from their fellow's hateful wounds, beware; Knowing, I wift, how each the fame may share Till fear has taught them a performance meet, And to the well-known chest the dame repair; Whence oft with fugar'd cates fhe doth 'em greet, And ginger-bread y-rare; now, certes, doubly sweet!

See to their feats they hye with merry glee,
And in befeemly order fitten there;

All but the wight of bum y-galled, he

Abhorreth bench and stool, and fourm, and chair; (This hand in mouth y-fix'd, that rends his hair ;) And eke with fnubs profound, and heaving breast, Convulfions intermitting! does declare

His grievous wrong; his dame's unjust behest; And scorns her offer'd love, and fhuns to be carefs'd.

His face befprent with liquid crystal shines,
His blooming face that seems a purple flow'r,
Which low to earth its drooping head declines,
All smear'd and fully'd by a vernal show'r.
O the hard bofoms of defpotic pow'r!
All, all, but she, the author of his shame,
All, all, but fhe, regret this mournful hour

Yet hence the youth, and hence the flow'r, fhall claim, If so I deem aright, tranfcending worth and fame.