O how sudden the jessamine strove

In ringlets he dresses his hair, With the lilac to render it gay!

And his crook is bestudded around; Already it calls for my love,

And his pipe',-oh my Phillis, beware To prune the wild branches away.

Of a magic there is in the sound. From the plains, from the woodlands and groves, 'Tis his with mock passion to glow, What strains of wild melody flow!

'Tis his in smooth tales to unfold, How the nightingales warble their loves

How her face is as bright as the snow, From thickets of roses tbat blow!

And her bosom, be sure, is as cild. And when her bright form shall appear,

How the nightingales labour the strain, Each bird shall harmoniously join

With the notes of his charmer to vie; In a concert so soft and so clear,

How they rary their accents in vain, As she may not be fond to resign.

Repine at her triumphs, and die.
I have found out a gift for my fair ;

To the grove or the garden he strays,
I have found where the wood-pigeons breed : And pillages every sweet ;
But let me that plunder forbear,

Then, suiting the wreath to his lays,
She will say 't was a barbarous deed,

He throws it at Pbillis's feet. For he ne'er could be true, she averr'd,

“O Phillis," he whispers, “ more fair, Who would rob a poor bird of its young:

More sweet than the jessamine's flower! And I lov'd her the more when I heard

What are pinks in a morn to compare? Such tenderness fall from her tongue,

What is eglantine after a shower? I have heard her with sweetness unfold

“ Then the lily no longer is white; How that pity was due to-a dove :

The rose is depriv'd of its bloom; That it ever attended the bold;

Then the violets die with despite, And she call'd it the sister of love.

And the woodbines give up their perfume.” But her words such a pleasure convey,

Thus glide the soft numbers along, So much I her accents adore,

And he fancies no shepherd his peer; Let her speak, and whatever she say,

-Yet I never should envy the song, Methinks I should love her the more.

Were not Phillis to lend it an ear. Can a bosom so gentle remain

Let his criok be with hyacinths bound, Unmov'd, when her Corydon eighs ?

So Phillis the trophy despise : Will a nymph that is fond of the plain,

Let his forehead with laurels be crown'd, These plains and this valley despise ?

So they shine not in Phillis's eyes.
Dear regions of silence and shade!

The language that flows from the heart,
Soft scenes of contentment and ease ?

Is a stranger to Paridel's tongue;
Where I could have pleasingly stray'd,

-Yet may she beware of his art,
If aught, in her absence, could please.

Or sure I must envy the song.
But where does my Phyllida stray ?

And where are her grots and her bowers ?
Are the groves and the valleys as gay,

And the shepherds as gentle as ours ?
The groves may perhaps be as fair,

Ye shepherds, give ear to my lay,
And the face of the valleys as fine;

And take no more heed of my sheep : The swains may in manners compare,

They have nothing to do but to stray;
But their love is not equal to mine.

I have nothing to do but to weep.
Yet do not my folly reprove ;

She was fair--and my passion begun ;

She smil'd-and I could not but love;

She is faithless--and I am undone.
Way will you my passion reprove ?

Perhaps I was void of all thought :
Why term it a folly to grieve?

Perhaps it was plain to foresee,
Ere I show you the charms of my love,

That a nyinph so complete would be sought She's fairer than you can believe,

By a swain more engaging than me. With her mien she enamours the brare;

Ah! love every hope can inspire;
With her wit she engages the free ;

It banishes wisdom the while ;
With her modesty pleases the grave;

And the lip of the nymph we admire
She is every way pleasing to me.

Seems for ever adorn'd with a smile. you that have been of her train,

She is faithless, and I am undone ;
Come and juin in my amorous lays;

Ye that witness the woes I endure,
I could lay down my life for the swain,

Let reason instruct you to shun
That will sing but a song in her praise.

What it cannot instruct you to cure.
When he sings, may the nymphs of the town Beware how you loiter in vain
Come trooping, and listen the while;

Amid nymphs of a higher degree :
Nay on him let not Phyllida frown;

It is not for me to explain
-But I cannot allow her to smile.

How fair, and how tickle, they be.
For when Paridel tries in the dance

Alas! from the day that we met,
Any favour with Phillis to find,

What hope of an end to my woes?
O how, with one trivial glance,

When I cannot endure to forget
Might she ruin the peace of my mind !

The glance that undid my repose.


Yet time may diminish the pain :

Our merchants Spain has near andone The flower, and the shrub, and the tree,

For lost ships not requiting : Which I rear'd for her pleasure in vain,

This bears our noble king to shun In time may have comfort for me.

The loss of blood-in fighting ! The sweets of a dew-sprinkled rose,

With numerous ills, in single life, The sound of a murmuring stream,

The bachelor's attended : The peace which from solitude flows,

Such to avoid, he takes a wife Henceforth shall be Corydon's theme.

And much the case is mended ! High transports are shown to the sight,

Poor Gratia in her twentieth year, But we're not to find them our own ;

Foreseeing future woe, Fate never bestow'd such delight,

Chose to attend a monkey here, As I with my Phillis had known.

Before an ape below.
O ye woods, spread your branches apace :

To your deepest recesses I fly ;
I would hide with the beasts of the chase ;

I would vanish from every eye.

A CULINARY ECIOGUE. Yet my reed shall resound through the grove

Nec tantum Veneris, quantum studiosa culinæ.
With the same sad complaint it begun;
How she smil'd-and I could not but love ; Nicht's sable clouds bad half the globe o'erspread,
Was faithless—and I am undone !

And silence reign'd, and folks were gone to bed :
When Love, which gentle sleep can ne'er inspire,
Had seated Damon by the kitchen fire.

Pensive he lay, extended on the ground;

The little lares kept their vigils round;
The fawning cats compassionate his case,

And purr around, and gently lick his face.

To all his plaints the sleeping curs reply,

And with hoarse snorings imitate a sigh.

Such gloomy scenes with lovers' minds agree,

And solitude to them is best society.

“ Could I,” (he cried) “ express, how bright a A Wır, by learning well refin'd,

grace A beau, but of the rural kind,

Adorns thy morning hands, and well-wash'd face; To Sylvia made pretences;

Thou wouldst, Colemira, grant what I implore, They both profess'd an equal love;

And yield me love, or wash thy face no more. Yet hop'd, by different means to move

“Ah! who can see, and seeing not admire, Her judgment, or her senses.

Whene'er she sets the pot upon the fire ! Young sprightly Flirt, of blooming mien,

Her bands outshine the fire, and redder things; Watch'd the best minutes to be seen;

Her eyes are blacker than the pots she brings. Went—when bis glass advis'd him:

“ But sure no chamber-damsel can compare, While meagre Phil of books inquir'd;

When in meridian lustre shines my fair, A wight, for wit and parts admir'd ;

When warın'd with dinner's toil, in pearly rills And witty ladies priz'd him.

Adown her goodly check the sweat distills. Sylvia had wit, had spirits too ;

“Oh! how I long, how ardently desire, To hear the one, the other view,

To view those rosy fingers strike the lyre ! Suspended held the scales :

For late, when bees to change their climes began, Her wit, her youth too, claim'd its share,

How did I see them thrum the frying-pan! Let none the preference declare,

“With her! I should not envy George his queen, But turn up-heads or tails.

Though she in royal grandeur deck'd be seen :
Whilst rags, just sever'd from my fair-one's gown,

In russct pomp and greasy pride hang down.

“Ah' how it does my drooping heart rejoice,

When in the hall I hear thy mellow voice ! TO THE MEMORY OF AN AGRECABLE LADY, BUPIED IN

How would that voice exceed the village bell ! MARRIAGE TO A PERSON UNDESERVING UER.

Would that but sing, I like thee passing well !! 'Twas always held, and ever will,

“When from the hearth she bade the pointers go, By sage mankind, discreeter

How soft, how casy did her accents flow ! T'anticipate a lesser ill,

* Get out,' she cried: 'when strangers come to sup, Than undergo a greater.

One ne'er can raise those snoring devils up.' When mortals dread diseases, pain,

“Then, full of wrath, she kick'd each lazy brute, And languishing conditions ;

Alas! i envied even that salute; Who don't the lesser ills sustain

T was sure misplac'd-Shock said, or seem'd to say, Of physic and-physicians ?

He had as lief I had the kick as they. Rather than lose his whole estate,

“ If she the mystic bellows take in hand, He that but little wise is,

Who like the fair can that machine cominand ? Full gladly pays four parts in eight

mayst thou ne'er by Eolus be seen, To taxes and excises,

For he would sure demand thee for his queen.

" But should the flame this rougher aid refuse; But if some mawkish potion And only gentler med'cines be of use;

Might chance to over-dose him,
With full-brown cheeks she ends the doubtful strife, To check its rage,
Foments the infant flame, and putis it into life.

He took a page “Such arts as these, exalt the drooping fire,

Of logic-to compose him. But in my breast a fiercer fiame inspire:

A trap, in haste and anger, I burn! I burn! O! give thy putting o'er ;

Was bought, you need not doubt on't : And swell thy cheeks, and pout thy lips, no more! And such was the gin,

Were a lion once got in, “With all her haughty looks, the time I've seen,

He could not, I think, get out on't.
When this proud damsel has more humble been,
When with nice airs she hoist the pan-cake round,

With cheese, not books, 't was baited,
And dropp'd it, hapless fair! upon the ground.

The fact I'll not belye it,

Since none-I'll tell you that, “Look, with what charming grace, what winning

Whether scholar or rat, tricks,

Mind books, when he has other diet,
The artful charmer rubs the candlesticks !

But more of trap and bait, sir,
So bright she makes the candlesticks she handles,
Oft have I said, -ihere were no need of candles.

Why should I sing, or either?

Since the rat, who knew the sleight, “But thou, my fair! who never wouldsi approve, Came in the dead of night, Or hear the tender story of my love ;

And dragg'd them away together. Or mind, how burns iny raging breast, – a button

Both trap and bait were vanish'd
Perhaps art dreaming of a breast of mutton.”

Through a fracture in the flooring :
Thus said, and wept the sad desponding swain, Which, though so trim
Revealing to the sable walls bis pain :

It now may seem,
But nymphs are free with those they should deny; Had then-a dozen or more in.
To those they love, more exquisitely coy.

Then answer this, ye sages,
Now chirping crickets raise their tinkling voice, Nor deem a man to wrong ye,
The lambent names in languid streams arise, Had the rat which thus did seize on
And smoke in azure folds evaporates and dies. The trap, less claim to reason,

Than many a scull among ye !
Dan Prior's mice, I own it,

Were vermin of condition :
THE RAPE OF THE TRAP. But this rat, who merely learn'd

What rats alone concern'd,
A BALLAD, 1737.

Was the greater politician. 'Twas in a land of learning,

That England's topsy-turvy, The Muses' favourite city,

Is clear from these mishaps, sir; Such pranks of late

Since traps ; we may determine, Were play'd by a rat,

Will no longer take our vermin, As tempt one to be witty.

But verinin? take our traps, sir ! All in a college study,

Let sophs, by rats infested, Where books were in great plenty ;

Then trust in cats to catch 'em; This rat would devour

Lest they grow as learn’d as we, More sense in an hour,

In our studies; where, d' ye see, Than I could write in twenty.

No mortal sits to watch 'em. Corporeal food, 'tis granted,

Good luck betide our captains ! Serves vermin less retin'd, sir;

Good luck betide our cats, sir ! But this, a rat of taste,

And grant that the one
All other rats surpass'd,

May quell the Spanish Don,
And he prey'd on the food of the mind, sir. And the other destroy our rats, sir !
His breakfast, half the morning,

He constantly attended :
And when the bell rung

For evening song,

So rude and tuneless are thy lays,
His dinner scarce was ended.

The weary audience vow,
He spar'd not e'en heroics,

'T is not th’ Arcadian swain that sings,
On which we poets pride us ;

But 't is his herds that low.
And wou'd make no more
Of king Arthurs', by the score,
Than all the world beside does.

ON MR. COF KIDDERMINSTER'S In books of geo-graphy,

He made the maps to flutter :
A river or a sea

Tuy verses, friend, are Kidderminster 3 stuff, Was to him a dish of tea;

And I must own you ’ve measur'd out enough. And a kingdom, bread and butter.

? Written at the time of the Spanish depredations. · By Blackmore,

3 Famous for a coarse woollen manufacture.


THE PROGRESS OF ADNICE, Hail, curious wights ! to whom so fair

The form of mortal flies is !

Suade, nam certum est,
Who deem those grubs beyond compare,
Which common sense despises.

Says Richard to Thomas (and seem'd half afraid), Whether,o'er hill, morass, or mound,

“I am thinking to marry thy mistress's maid:

Now, because Mrs. Lucy to thee is well known, You make your sportsman sallies;

I will do't if thou bidst me, or let it alone.
Or that your prey in gardens found
Is urg'd through walks and alleys :

“ Nay don't make a jest on't ; 'tis no jest to me;

For 'faith I'm in earnest, so pr’ythee be free. Yet, in the fury of the chase,

I have no fault to find with the girl since I knew her, No slope could e'er retard you; Blest if one fly repay the race,

But I'd have thy advice, ere I tie myself to her.” Or painted wings reward you.

Said Thomas to Richard, “ To speak my opinion,

There is not such a bitch in king George's dominion, Fierce as Camilla o'er the plain Pursued the glittering stranger;

And I firmly believe, if thou knew'st her as I do,

Thou wouldst choose out a whipping-post, first to be Still ey'd the purple's pleasing stain,

tied to. And knew not fear nor danger. sT is you dispense the favourite meat

“She's peevish, she's thievish, she's ugly, she's old, To Nature's filmy people;

And a liar, and a fool, and a slut, and a scold.” Know what conserves they choose to eat,

Next day Richard hasten'd to church and was wed, And what liqueurs to tipple.

And ere night had inform'd her what Thomas had

said. And if her brood of insects dies,

You sage assistance lend her; Can stoop to pimp for amorous flies,

A BALLAD. And help them to engender.

Trahit sua quemque voluptas. Tis you protect their pregnant hour;

From Lincoln to London rode forth our young And when the birth 's at hand, Exerting your obstetric power,

squire, Prevent a mothless land.

To bring down a wife, whom the swains might ad

mire : Yet oh ! howe'er your towering view

But, in spite of whatever the mortal could say, Above gross objects rises, Whate'er refinements you pursue,

The goddess objected the length of the way! Hear what a friend advises :

To give up the opera, the park, and the ball, A friend, who, weigh'd with yours, must prize

For to view the stag's horns in an old country-hall;

To have neither China nor India to see!
Domitian's idle passion ;
That wrought the death of teasing flies,

Nor a laceman to plague in a morning-not she ! But ne'er their propagation..

To forsake the dear play-house, Quin, Garrick, and Let Flavia's eyes more deeply warm,

Clive, Nor thus yonr hearts determine,

Who by dint of mere humour had kept her alive; To slight dame Nature's fairest form,

To forgo the full box for his lonesome abode,

O Heavens ! she should faint, she should die on And sigh for Nature's vermin.

the road : And speak with some respect of beaux, Nor more as triflers treat 'em:

To forgo the gay fashions and gestures of France, T is better learn to save one's clothes,

And leave dear Auguste in the midst of the dance, Than cherish moths, that eat 'em.

And Harlequin too !—'t was in vain to require it;
And she wonder'd how folks had the face to desire it,

She might yield to resign the sweet singers of


Where the citizen-matron seduces her cuckold; Aliusque et idem.

But Ranelagh soon would her footsteps recall, (hall. When Tom to Cambridge first was sent,

And the inusic, the lamps, and the glare of VauxA plain brown bob be wore;

To be sure she could breathe no where else but in Read much, and look'd as though he meant


(clown; To be a fop no more.

Thus she talk'd like a wit, and he look'd like a See him to Lincoln's Inn repair,

But the while honest Harry despair'd to succeed, His resolution flag ;

A coach with a coronet trail'd her to Tweed.
He cherishes a length of hair,

And tucks it in a bag.
Nor Coke nor Salkeld he regards,

But gets into the house,
And soon a judge's rank rewards

(Vide Shakespear.) His pliant votes and bows.

Beseaty a church-yard yew, Adie'ı, ye bol's ! ye bags, give place!

Decay'd and worn with age, Full bottoms co.ne instead !

At dusk of eve methought I spied Good Lord ! to see the various ways

Poor Slender's ghost, that whimpering cried, Of dressing--a calf's head.

sweet, () sweet Anne Page!

Can Damon's revenue maintain,
In lace and food, so large a train ?
I know his land each inch of ground
'Tis not a mile to walk it round-
If Damon's whole estate can bear
To keep his lad and one-horse chair,
I own 'tis past my comprehension.”
“ Yes, sir, but Damon has a pension.”

Thus does false Ambition rule us, Thus Pomp delude, and Folly fool us; To keep a race of Hickering knaves, He grows himself the worst of slaves,

Ye gentle bards, give ear!

Who talk of amorous rage,
Who spoil the lily, rob the rose,
Come learn of me to weep your woes :

O sweet, O sweet Anne Page !
Why should such labour'd strains

Your formal Muse engage ? I never dream'd of fame or dart, That fir'd my breast or pierc'd my heart,

But sigh'd, O sweet Anne Page ! And you, whose love-sick minds

No med'cine can assuage ! Accuse the leech's art no more, But learn of Slender to deplore;

O sweet, O sweet Anne Page !
And ye, whose souls are held

Like linnets in a cage !
Who talk of fetters, links and chains,
Attend and imitate my strains :

O sweet, O sweet Anne Page!
And you who boast or grieve,

What horrid wars we wage! Of wounds receiv'd from many an eye; Yet mean as I do, when I sigh,

O sweet, O sweet Anne Page ! Hence every fond conceit

Of shepherd or of sage; "T is Slender's voice, 'tis Slender's way Expresses all you have to say,

sweet, O sweet Anne Page!

HINT FROM VOITURE. Let Sol his annual journeys run, And, when the radiant task is done, Confess, through all the globe, 't would pose him, To match the charms that Celia shows him, And should he boast he once had seen As just a form, as bright a mien, Yet must it still for ever pose him, To match-what Celia never shows him.


MART. FORTUNE ! if my prayer of old Was ne'er solicituus for gold, With better grace thou mayst allow My suppliant wish, that asks it now. Yet think not, goddess, I require it For the same end your clowns desire it. In a well-made effectual string, Fain would I see Lividio swing ! Hear him, from Tyburn's height haranguing, But such a cur 's not worth one's hanging. Give me, O goddess ! store of pelf, And he will tie the knot himself.


To the memory

Of A. L Esquire,
Justice of the peace for this county;
Who, the whole course of his pilgrimage
Through a trifling ridiculous world,

Maintaining his proper dignity, Notwithstanding the scoffs of ill-disposed persons,

And wits of the age,
That ridiculed his behaviour,

Or censured his breeding ;
Following the dictates of Nature,

Desiring to ease the afficted,
Eager to set the prisoners at liberty,

Without having for his end
The noise, or report such things generally cause

in the world,
(As he was seen to perform them of none)
But the sole relief and happiness

Of the party in distress;

Himself resting easy,
When he could render that so;
Not griping, or pinching himself,

To hoard up superfluities;
Not coveting to keep in his possession
What gives more disquietude than pleasure ;

But charitably diffusing it

To all around about him :
Making the most sorrowful countenance

To smile

In his presence;
Always bestowing more than he was asked,
Always imparting before he was desired ;

Not proceeding in this manner

Upon every trivial suggestion,
But the most mature and solemn deliberation;
With an incredible presence and undauntedness

of mind;
With an inimitable gravity and economy

of face;
Bidding loud defiance
To politeness and the fashion,

Dared let a f-.



Servum si potes, Ole, non habere,

Et regem potes, Ole, non habere.
I Ask'd a friend amidst the throng,
Whose coach it was that trail'd along :
“ T'he gilded coach there—don't ye mind ?
That with the footmen stuck behind.”

“O sir !” says he, “what ! ha'n't you seen it : 'Tis Damon's coach, and Damon in it. Tis odd, methinks, you have forgot Your friend, your neighbour, and what not ! Your old acquaintance Damon !"_" True; But 'faith his equipage is new:

“Bless me,” said I, “where can it end? What madness has possess'd my friend ? Pour powder'd slaves, and those the tallest, Their stomachs doubtless not the smallest !

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