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Ask gliding waters, if a tear

Shot by the peacock's painted eye, Of mine increas'd their stream?

The vain and airy lovers die : Or ask the flying gales, if e'er

For careful dames and frugal men, I lent one sigh to them?

The shafts are speckled by the hen.

The pyes and parrots deck the darts, But now my former days retire,

When prattling wins the panting hearts; And I'm by beauty caught,

When from the voice the passions spring, The tender chains of sweet desire

The warbling finch affords a wing: Are fix'd upon my thought.

Together, by the sparrow stung, Ye nightingales, ye twisting pines !

Down fall the wanton and the young: Ye swains that haunt the grove!

And Aedg'd hy geese the weapons fiy, Ye gentle echoes, breezy winds!

When others love they know not why. Ye close retreats of love!

All this (as late I chanc'd to rove)

I learn'd in yonder waving grove, With all of nature, all of art,

“ And see,” says Love, “ who call'd me near, Assist the dear design;

How much I deal with Nature here; · O teach a young, unpractis'd heart,

How both support a proper part, To make fair Nancy mine.

She gives the feather, I the dart :

Then cease for souls averse to sigh, The very thought of change I hate,

If Nature cross you, so do I; As much as of despair;

My weapon there unteather'd lies, Nor erer covet to be great,

And shakes and shuffles through the skies. Unless it be for her.

But if the mutual charms I find 'Tis true, the passion in my mind

By which she links you mind to mind, Is mix'd with soft distress;

They wing my shafts, I poize the darts, Yet, while the fair I love is kind,

And strike from both, through buth your hearts." I cannot wish it less.



When spring came on with fresh delight,
To cheer the soul, and charm the sight,
While easy breezes, softer rain,
And warmer suns, salute the plain;
'Twas then, in yonder piny grove,
That Nature went to meet with Love.

Green was her robe, and green her wreath,
Where-e'er she trod, 'twas green beneath;
Where-t'er she turn'd, the pulses beat
With new recruits of genial heat;
And in her train the birds appear,
To match for all the coming year.

Rais'd on a bank where daisies grew,
And violets intermix'd a blue,
She finds the boy she went to find;
A thousand pleasures wait behind,
Aside, a thousand arrows lie,
But all unfeather'd, wait to fly.

When they met, the dame and boy,
Dancing Graces, idle joy,
Wanton smiles, and airy play
Conspir’d to make the scene be gay;
Love pair'd the birds through all the grove,
And Nature bid them sing to Love,
Sitting, hopping, fluttering, sing,
And pay their tribute from the wing,
To fledge the shafts that idly lie,
And yet unfeather'd wait to fly.

'Tis thus, when spring renews the blood,
They meet in every trembling wood,
And thrice they make the plumes agree,
And every dart they mount with three,
And every dart can boast a kind,
Which suits each proper turn of mind,

From the towering eagle's plume
The generous hearts accept their doom;

Gay Bacchus, liking Estcourt's' wine,

A noble meal bespoke us;
And for the guests that were to dine,

Brought Comus, Love, and Jocus.
The god near Cupid drew his chair,

Near Comus, Jocus plac'd;
For wine makes love forget its care,

And mirth exalts a feast.
The more to please the sprightly god,

Each sweet engaging Grace
Put on some clothes to come abroad,

And took a waiter's place.
Then Cupid nam'd at every glass

A lady of the sky;
While Bacchus swore he'd drink the lass,

And had it bumper-high.
Fat Comus tost his brimmers o'er,

And always got the most;
Jocus took care to fill him more

Whene'er he miss'd the toast.
They call'd, and drank at every touch;

He fillid and drank again;
And if the gods can take too much,

'Tis said, they did so then.
Gay Bacchus little Cupid stung,

By reckoning his deceits;
And Cupid mockd his stammering tongue,

With all his staggering gaits:
And Jocus droll'd on Comus ways,

And tales without a jest;
While Comus callid bis witty plays

But waggeries at best.

' A celebrated comedian and tavern-keeper,


Such talk goon set them all at odds;

His heart was drear, his hope was cross'd, And had I Homer's pen,

'Twas late, 'twas far, the path was lost I'd sing ye, how they drank like gods,

That reach'd the neighbour-town; And how they fought like men.

With weary steps he quits the shades,

Resolv'd, the darkling dome he treads, To part the fray, the Graces fly,

And drops his limbs adown.
Who make them soon agree:
Nay, had the Furies selves been nigh,

But scant he lays him on the floor,
They still were three to three,

When hollow winds remove the door,

And trembling rocks the ground: Bacchus appeas'd, rais'd Cupid up,

And, well I ween to count aright, And gave him back his bow;

At once a hundred tapers light But kept some darts to stir the cup,

On all the walls around. Where sack and sugar flow.

Now sounding tongues assail his ear, Jocus took Comus' rosy crown,

Now sounding feet approached near, And gayly wore the prize,

And now the sounds increase : And thrice, in mirth, he push'd him down, And from the corner where he lay As thrice he strove to rise.

He sees a train profusely gay, Then Cupid sought the myrtle grove,

Come prankling o'er the place. Where Venus did recline;

But (trust me, gentles!) never yet And Venus close embracing Love,

Was dight a masquing half so neat, They join'd to rail at wine.

Or half so rich before; And Comus loudly cursing wit,

The country lent the sweet perfumes, Roll'd off to some retreat ;

The sea the pearl, the sky the plumes,

The town its silken store.
Where boon companions gravely sit
In fat unwieldy state.

Now whilst he gaz'd, a gallant drest Bacchus and Jocus still behind,

In flaunting robes above the rest, For one fresh glass prepare;

With awful accent cry'd;

What mortal of a wretched mind, They kiss, and are exceeding kind,

Whose sighs infect the balmy wind, And vow to be sincere.

Has here presum'd to hide ?
But part in time, whoever hear
This our instructive song;

At this the swain, whose venturous soul

No fears of magic art control, For though such friendships may be dear,

Advanc'd in open sight; They can't continue long.

“ Nor have I cause of dreed," he said,
“ Who view, by no presumption led,

Your revels of the night.

“ 'Twas grief, for scorn of faithful love,

Which made my steps unweeting rove IN THE ANCIENT ENGLISH STYLE.

Amid the nightly dew.”

“ 'Tis well,” the gallant cries again, In Britain's isle, and Arthur's days,

“ We fairies never injure men When midnight fairies danc'd the maze,

Who dare to tell us true.
Lir'd Edwin of the Green;
Edwin, I wis, a gentle youth,

“ Exalt thy love-dejected heart, Endow'd with courage, sense, and truth,

Be mine the task, or ere we part,
Though badly shap'd he'd been,

To make thee grief resign;

Now take the pleasure of thy chaunce; His mountain back mote well be said,

Whilst 1 with Mab, my partner, daunce, To measure height against his head,

Be little Mable thine."
And lift itself above :
Yet, spite of all that Nature did

He spoke, and all a sudden there
To make his uncouth form forbid,

Light music floats in wanton air;
This creature dard to love.

The monarch leads the queen:

The rest their fairy partners found: He felt the charms of Edith's eyes,

And Mable trimly tript the grour
Nor wanted hope to gain the prize,

With Edwin of the Green.
Could ladies look within;
But one sir Topaz dress'd with art,

The dauncing past, the board was laid, And, if a shape could win a heart,

And siker such a feast was made,
He had a shape to win.

As heart and lip desire,

Withouten hapds the dishes fly, Edwin, if right I read my song,

The glasses with a wish come nigh, With slighted passion pac'd along

And with a wish retire. All in the moony light; 'Twas near an old enchanted court,

But, now to please the fairy king, Where sportive fairies made resort

Full every deal they laugh and sing, To revel out the night,

And antic seats devise; VOL. IX.


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Some wind and tumble like an ape,

“ Ab, losel vile," at once they roar: And other some transmute their shape

“ And little skill'd of fairie lore, In Edwin's wondering eyes.

Thy cause to come, we know :

Now has thy kestrel courage fell ; Till one at last, that Robin hight,

And fairies, since a lye you tell,
Renown'd for pinching maids by night,

Are free to work thee woe."
Has bent him up aloof;
And full against the beam he flung,

Then Will, who bears the whispy fire
Where by the back the youth he hung

To trail the swains among the mire, To spraul un neath the roof.

The caitiff upward flung;

There, like a tortoise, in a shop From thence, “ Reverse my charm,” he cries, He dangled from the chamber-top, “And let it fairly now suffice

Where whilome Edwin hung.
The gambol has been shown.”
But Oberon answers with a smile,

The revel now proceeds apace, “ Content tbee Edwin for a while,

Deftly they frisk it o'er the place, The vantage is thine own."

They sit, tliey drink, and eat;

The time with frolic mirth beguile, Here ended all the phantom-play;

And poor sir Topaz hangs the while
They smelt the fresh approach of day,

Till all the rout retreat,
And heard a cock to crow;
The whirling wind that bore the crowd

By this the stars began to wink,
Has clapp'd the door, and whistled loud,

They shriek, they fly, the tapers sink, To warn them all to go.

And down y-drops the knight:

For never spell by fairie laid Then screaming all at once they fly,

With strong enchantment bound a glade, And all at once the tapers dye ;

Beyond the length of night.
Poor Edwin falls to floor;
Forlorn his state, and dark the place,

Chill, dark, alone, adreed, he lay,
Was never wight in such a case

Till up the welkin rose the day, Through all the land before.

Then deem'd the dole was o'er :

But wot ye well his harder lot? But soon as Dan Apollo rose,

His seely back the bunch had got
Full jolly creature home he goes,

Which Edwin lost afore.
He feels his back the less;
His honest tongue and steady mind

This tale a Sybil-nurse ared;
Had rid him of the lump behind,

She softly stroak'd my youngling head, Which made him want success.

And when the tale was done,

“ Thus some are born, my son,” she cries, With lusty livelyhed he talks,

“ With base impediments to rise, He seems a dauncing as he walks,

And some are born with none.
His story soon took wind;
And beauteous Edith sees the youth

“ But virtue can itself advance Endow'd with courage, serse, and truth,

To what the favourite fools of chance Without a bunch bebind.

By fortune seem design'd;

Virtue can gain the odds of Fate, The story told, sir Topaz mov'd,

And from itself shake off the weight
The youth of Edith erst approv'd,

Upon th' unworthy mind."
To see the revel scene :
At close of eve he leaves bis home,
And wends to find the ruin'd dome

All on the gloomy plain.

VIGIL OF VENUS. As there he bides, it so befell,

WRITTEN IN THE TIME OF JULIUS CAESAR, The wind came rustling down a dell, A shaking seiz'd the wall;

AND BY SOME ASCRIBED TO CATULLUS. Up spring the tapers as before, The fairies brasly foot the floor,

LET those love novo, who never lov'd before; And music alls the hall.

Let those who always lov'd, not love the more.

The Spring, the new, the warbling Spring ap. But certes sorely sunk with woe

The youthful season of reviving years; [pears, Sir Topaz sees the e!r hin show,

In Spring the Loves enkindle mutual heats, His spirits in him dye: When Oberon cries, “ A man is near,

The feather'd nation choose their tuneful mates,

The trees grow fruitful with descending rain, A mortal passion, cleeped fear,

And drest in differing greens adorn the plain. Hangs flaggin in the sky."

She comes; to morrow Beauty's empress rores With that sir Topaz, hapless youth!

Through walks that winding run within the groves; In accents faultering, av for ruth,

She twines the shooting myrtle into bowers, Entreats them pity graunt;

And ties their meeting tops with wreaths of For als he been a mixer wight

flowers, Betrav’d by wandering in the night

Then rais'd sublimely on her easy throne, To tread the circied haunt;

From Nature's powerful dictates draws her ows.


Let those love now, who never lou'd before;

Gay with the bloom of all her opening year, Let those who always lov’d, now love the more. The queen at Hybla bids hier throne appear;

'Twas on that day which saw the teeming flood And there presides; and there the favourite band Swell round, impregnate with celestial blood; (Her smiling Graces) share the great command. Wandering in circles stood the fiony crew, Now, beauteous Hybla! dress thy flowery beds The midst was left a void expanse of blue, With all the pride the lavish season sheds; There parent ocean work'd with heaviug throes, Now all thy colours, all thy fragrance yield, And dropping wet the fair Dione rose.

And rival Enna's aromatic field. Let those love noro, who never lov'd before ; To fill the presence of the gentle court, Let those who always lov'd, now love the more. From every quarter rural nymphs resort, (vales,

She paints the purple year with vary'd show, From woods, from mountains, from their humble Tips the green gem, and makes the blossom glow. From waters curling with the wanton gales. She makes the turgid buds receive the breeze, Pleas'd with the joyful train, the laughing queen Expand to leaves, and shade the naked trees. In circles seats thern round the bank of green; When gathering damps the misty nights diffuse, And, " Lovely girls," she whispers, “guard your She sprinkles all the morn with balmy dews;

hearts: Bright trembling pearls depend at every spray, My boy, though stript of arms, abounds in arts." And, kept from falling, seem to fall away.

Let those love now, who never lov'd before ; A glossy freshness hence the rose receives, Let those who always lov'd, now love the more And blushes sweet through all her silken leaves Let tender grass in shaded alleys spread, (The drops descending through the silent night, Let early flowers erect their painted head, While stars serenely roll their golden light): To morrow's glory be to morrow seen, Close till the morn, her humid veil she holds; That day, old Ether wedded Earth in green, Then deckt with virgin pomp the flower unfolds. The vernal father bid the Spring appear, Soon will the morning blush: ye maids! prepare, In clouds he coupled to produce the year, In rosy garlands bind your flowing hair;

The sap descending o'er her bosom ran, 'Tis Venus' plant: the blood fair Venus shed, And all the various sorts of soul began. O'er the gay beauty pourd jinmortal red; By wheels unknown to sight, by secret veins From Love's soft kiss a sweet ambrosial smell Distilling life, the fruitful goddess reigns, Was taught for ever on the leaves to dwell; Through all the lovely realms of native day, From gems, from flames, from orient rays of light, Through all the circled land and circling sea; The richest lustre makes her purple bright; With fertile seed she fillid the pervious earth, And she to morrow weds; the sporting gale And ever fix'd the mystic ways of birth. Unties her zone, she bursts the verdant veil; Let those love now, who never lou'd before; Through all her sweets the rifling lover flies, Let those who always lov'd, now love the more. And as he breathes, her glowing fires arise.

'Twas she the parent, to the Latian shore Let those love now, who never lou'd before ; Through various dangers Troy's remainder bore. Let those who always lov'd, now love the more. She won Lavinia for her warlike son, Now fair Dione to the myrtle grove

And, winning ber, the Latian empire won. Sends the gay nymphs, and sends her tender love. She gave to Mars the maid, whose honour'd womb And shall they venture? Is it safe to go,

Swell'd with the founder of immortal Rome, While nymphs have hearts, and Cupid wears a Decoy'd by shows, the Sabine dames she led, Yes, safely venture, 'tis his mother's will; [bow? And taught our vigorous youth the way to wed. He walks unarm'd, and undesigning ill,

Hence sprung the Romans, hence the race divine His torch extinct, his quiver useless hung, Through which great Cæsar draws his Julian line. His arrows idle, and his bow unstrung. [charms; Let those love now, who never lov'd before ; And yet, ye nymphs, beware; his eyes have Let those who always lov’d, now love the more. And Love that's naked, still is Love in arms.

In rural seats the soul of pleasure reigns; Let those love now, who never lov'd before ; The life of Beauty fills the rural scenes; Let those who always lov'd, now love the more. Ev'n Love (if Fame the truth of Love declare)

From Venus' bower to Delia's lodge repairs Drew first the breathings of a rural air. A virgin train complete with modest airs : Some pleasing meadow pregnant Beauty prest, " Chaste Delia, grant our suit ! or shun the wood, She laid her infant on its flowery breast, Nor stain this sacred lawn with savage blood. From Nature's sweets he sipp'd the fragrant dew, Venus, O Delia ! if she could persuade,

He smil'd, he kiss'd them, and by kissing grew. Would ask thy presence, might she ask a maid." Let those love now, who rlever lov'd before; Here cheerful quires for three auspicious nights Let those who always lov'd, now love the more. With songs prolong the pleasurable rites :

Now bulls o'er stalks of broom extend their Here crouds in measure lightiy-decent rove;

sides, Or seek by pairs the covert of the grove,

Secure of favours from their lowing brides.
Where meeting greens for arbours arch above, Now stately rams their feecy consorts lead,
And mingling flowrets strow the scenes of love. Who bleating follow through the wandering shade.
Here dancing Ceres shakes her golden sheaves; And now the goddess bids the birds appear,
Here Bacchus revels, deck'd with viny leaves : Raise all their music, and salute the year:
Here wit's enchanting god, in laurel crown'd, Then deep the swan begins, and deep the song
Wakes all the ravish'd Hours with silver sound. Runs o'er the water where he sails along:
Ye fields, ye forests, own Dione's reign, While Philomela turns a treble strain,
And Delia, huptress Delia, shun the plain. And from the poplar charms the listening plain.

Let those love now, who never lov'd before; We fancy love exprest at every note,
Let those who always lov’d, now love the more. It melts, it warbles, in her liquid throat,

Of barbarous Terens she complains no more, The dreadful toils of raging Mars I write,
But sings for pleasure, as for grief before.

The springs of contest, and the fields of fight; And still her graces rise, her airs extend,

How threatening mice advanc'd with wa like grace, And all is silence till the syren end.

And wag'd dire combats with the croaking race. How long in coming is my lovely Spring! Not louder tumults shook Olympus' towers, And when shall 1, and when the swallow sing;

When earth-born giants dard immortal powers. Swect Philomela, cease:-Or here I sit,

These equal acts an equal glory claim, And silent lose my rapturous hour of wit :

And thus th Muse rerords the tale of Fame. 'Tis gone, the fit retires, the fames decay,

Once on a time, fatigued and out of breath, My tuneful Phoebus flies averse away.

And just escap'd the stretching claws of Death, His own Amycle thus, as stories run,

A gentle mouse, whom cats pursued in vain, But once was silent, and that once undone. Fled swift of foot across the neighbouring plain,

Let those lo:e now, who never lou'd before ; Hung o'er a brink, his eager thirst to cool,
Let those who always lov’d, now love the more. And dipp'd his whiskers in the standing pool;

When near a courteous frog advanc'd bis head,
And from the waters, hoarse-resonnding, said,

“What art thou, stranger? what the line pea HOMER'S


What chance has cast thee panting on our coast? BATRACHOMUOMACHIA:

With strictest truth let all thy words agree,
or, THE

Nor let me find a faithless mouse in thee.

If worthy, friendship, proffer'd friendship take,
And entering view the pleasurable lake;

Range o'er my palace, in my bounty share,
Names of the Frogs.

And glad return froin hospitable fare:

This silver realm extends beneath my sway, Physignathus, one who swells his cheeks.

And me, their monarch, all its frogs obey. Pelus, a name for mud.

Great Physignathus I, from Peleus' race, Hydromeduse, a ruler in the waters.

Begot in fair Hydronede's embrace, Hypsiboas, a loud bawler.

Where, by the nuptial bank that paints his side, Pelion, from mud.

The swift Eridanus delights to glide. Scutlæus, called from the bees.

Thee too, thy form, thy strength, and port, proPolyphonus, a great babler.

claim Lymnocharis, one who loves the lake.

A scept r'd king; a son of martial fame; Crambophagus, a cabbage-eater.

Then trace thy line, and aid my guessins eyes." Lymuisius, called from the lake.

Thus ceas'd the frog, and thus the mouse replies Calaminthios, from the herb.

“Known to the gods, the men, the birds that Hy Hydrocaris, who loves the water.

Through wild expanses of the midway sky, Borborocates, who lies in the mud.

My name resounds; and if unknown to thee, Prassophagus, an cater of garlic.

The soul of great Psycarpax lives in me. Pelusius, from mud.

Of brave Troxartas' line, whose sleeky down Pelobates, who walks in the dirt,

In love compressid Lychomile the brown. Pressæus, called from garlic.

My mother she, and princess of the plains Crangasides, from croaking.

Where-e'er her father Pternotractas reigns.

Born where a cab in lifts its airy shed,
Names of the Mice.

With figs, with nuts, with vary'd dainties fed. Psycarpax, one who plunders granaries.

But, since our natures nought in common know, Troxartas, a bread-eater.

From what foundation can a friendship grow? Lrchomile, a licker of meal.

These curling waters o’er thy palace roll: Ptermotractas, a bacon-eater.

But man's high food supports my princely soul: Lychopynax, a licker of dishes.

In vain the circled loaves attempt to lie Emba ichytros, a creeper into pots.

Conecald in flaskets from my curious eye. I ychenor, a name for licking.

In vain the tripe that boasts the whitest hue, Troglodytes, one who runs into holes.

In vain the gilded bacon shuns my view, Artuphagus, who feeds on bread.

In vain the cheeses, offspring of the pail, Tyroglyphus, a cheese-scooper.

Or honey'd cakes, which gods themselves regale; Pternoglyphus, a bacon-scooper.

And as in arts I shine, in arms I fight, Pternophagus, a bacon-eater.

Mix'd with the brave t, and unknown to fight, Cnissodioctes, one who follows the steam of Though large to mine the human form appear, kitchens.

Not man himself can smite my soul with tear, Sitoplogus, an eater of wheat.

Sly to the bed with silent steps Igo,
Meridarpax, one who plunders his share.

Attempt his finger, or attack his toe,
Aud six indented wounds with dextrous skill,

Sleeping he feels, apd only seems to feel.

Yet have we foes which direful dangers cause,

Grim owls with talons arm’d, and cats with class, To fill my rising song with sacred fire,

And that false trap, the den of silent Fate, Ye tuneful Nire, yr sweet celestial quire!

Where Death his ambush plants around the bait: From Helicon's embowering height repair,

All dreaded these, and dreadful o'er the rest Attend my labours, and reward my prayer; The potent warriors of the tabby vest,

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