AH me! full forely is my heart forlorn, To think how modeft worth neglectedlies, While partial Fame doth with her blasts adorn Such deeds alone as pride and pomp difguife; Deeds of ill fort, and mischievous emprize : Lend me thy clarion, Goddess! let me try To found the praise of merit ere it dies; Such as I oft have chanced to espy, Loft in the dreary shades of dull obfcurity.

In ev'ry village, mark'd with little fpire, [fame, Embower'd in trees, and hardly known to There dwells, in lowly shade and mean attire, A matron old, whom we School-miftrefs

name;

Who boafts unruly brats with birch to tame : They, grieven fore, in piteous durance pent, Aw'd by the pow'r of this relentless dame, And oft-times, on vagaries idly bent, Forunkempthair,ortask unconn'd, are forely shent. And all in fight doth rise a birchen tree,

Which Learning near her little dome did stow, Whilome a twig of finall regard to fee, Tho' now fo wide its waving branches flow, And work the fimple vassals mickle woe; For not a wind might curl the leaves that [low; But their limbs shudder'd, and their pulfe beat And, as they look'd, they found their horror

blew,

grew,

And shap'd it into rods, and tingled at the view.
So have I feen (who has not, may conceive)
A lifeless phantom near a garden plac'd;
So doth it wanton birds of peace bereave,
Of fport, of fong, of pleafure, of repaft :
They start, they stare, they wheel, they look

aghaft;

Sad fervitude! Such comfortless annoy May no bold Briton's riper age e'er tafte ! Ne fuperftition clog his dance of joy, Ne vision empty, vain, his native blifs destroy. Near to this dome is found a patch so green, On which the tribe their gambols do display; And at the door impris'ning board is feen, Left weakly wights of smaller fize should stray, Eager, perdie, to bask in funny day!

The noises intermix'd, which thencerefound, Do Learning's little tenement betray; Where fits the dame, disguis'd in look profound, [around.

And eyes her Fairy throng, and rurns her wheel Her cap, far whiter than the driven fnow,

Emblem right meet of decency does yield; Her apron dyed in grain, as blue, I trowe, As is the hare-bell that adorns the field: And in her hand, for fceptre, the does wield Tway birchen sprays, with anxious fear en

twin'd,

With dark diftruft, and fad repentance fill'd, And stedfaft hate, and sharp affliction join'd, And fury uncontroul'd, and chastisement unkind. Few but have kenned, in semblance meet pourtray'd,

The childish faces of old Æol's train, Libs, Notus, Aufter: these in frowns array'd, How then would fare or earth, or sky, or main, Were the ftern god to give his flaves the rein ? And were not the rebellious breafts to quell, And were not the her statutes to maintain,

The cot no more, I ween, were deem'd the cell Where comely peace of mind and decent order

dwell.

Ne would eftcem him act as mought behove,
Who should not honour'd eld with these revere;

But there was eke a mind which did that title love.
For never title yet fo mean could prove,
One ancient hen she took delight to feed,
The plodding pattern of the busy dame,
Which ever and anon, impell'd by need,

Into her fchool, begirt with chickens, came Such favour did her past deportment claim : And if neglect had lavish'd on the ground Fragment of bread, fhe would collect the same; For well the knew, and quaintly could expound,

What fin it were to waste the smallest crumb the found.

Herbs too she knew, and well of each could speak,

That in her garden sipp'd the filv'ry dew, Where no vain flow'r difclos'd a gaudy streak, But herbs for use and phyfic not a few, Of grey renown, within those borders grew; The tufted bafil, pun-provoking thyme, Fresh baum, and marygold of cheerful hue, The lowly gill, that never dares to climb, And more I fain would fing, disdaining here to rhyme.

Yet euphrasy may not be left unfung,

That gives dim eyes to wander leaguecsaround; And pungent radish, biting infant's tongue; And plantain ribb'd, that heals the reaper's

wound;

And

If winter 'twere, she to her hearth did cleave : But in her garden found a fummer feat: Sweet melody! to hear her then repeat

How Ifrael's fons, beneath a foreign king, While taunting foe-men did a fong entreat, All for the nonce untuning every string, Uphung their ufeless lyres-small heart had they to fing.

For she was just, and friend to virtuous lore, And pass'd much time in truly virtuous deed; And in those elfins ears would oft deplore The times when Truth by Popish 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 smould ring flames did [return.

burn:

Ah, dearest Lord! forefend thilk days should c'er
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 fov'reign prince and liefeft licege is plac'd, The matron fate: and fome with rank the

grac'd,

The fource of children's and of courtier's pride!

Redress'datfronts (for vile affronts there pass'd), And warn'd them not the fretful to deride, But love each other dear, whatever them betide. Right well the knew each temper to defcry, Tothwart the proud, and the fubmifs to raise; Some with vile copper prize exalt on high, And fome entice with pittance fmall of praise; And other fome with baleful sprig she 'frays: E'en abfent, the the reins of pow'r doth hold, While with quaint arts the giddy crowd the

fways;

light!

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

O ruthful scene! when from a nook obfcure
His little fifter doth his peril fee;
All playful as the fate, the grows demure,
She finds full foon her wonted spirits flee;
She meditates a pray'r to fet 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 the could die.
No longer can the now her shrieks command;
And hardly the forbears, thro' awful fear,
To rushen forth, and, with prefumptuous hand,
To ftay harsh justice in its mid career.
On thee the 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 laft 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 dyes his looks amain? The plentcous show'r that does his check diftain? When he in abject wife implores the dame, Ne hopeth aught of fweet reprieve to gain;

Or when from high the levels well her aim, And, thro' the thatch, his cries each falling ftroke proclaim.

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

And from their fellow's hateful wounds beware,

Knowing, I wist, how each the fame may share; Till fear has taught them a performance

meet,

And to the well-known cheft the dame repair, Whence oft with fugar'd cates the doth 'em

greet,

fweet!

See, to their seats they hye with merry glee,
And in beseemly order fitten there,
All but the wight of bum y-galled; he
Abhorreth bench, and stool, and form, and
chair

(This hand in mouth y-fix'd, thatrends his hair); And eke with fnubs profound, and heaving breaft,

Convulfions intermitting! does declare

His grievous wrong, his dame's unjust beheft, And fcorns her offer'd love, and shuns to be carefs'd.

His face befprent with liquid crystal shines; His blooming face, that feems a purple flow'r, Which low to earth its drooping head declines, All fmear'd and fullied by a vernal show'r. Oh the hard bofoms of defpotic pow'r!

All, all but fhe, the author of his shame, All, all but fhe, regret this mournful hour: Yet hence the youth, and hence the flow'r shall claim,

If fo I deem aright, transcending worth and fame.
Behind fome door in melancholy thought,
Mindlefs of food, he, dreary caitiff! pines;
Ne for his fellows joyaunce careth ought,
But to the wind all merriment refigns,
And deems it shame if he to peace inclines;
And many a fullen look askaunce is fent,
Which for his dame's annoyance he defigns;
And ftill the more to pleafure him the's bent,
The more doth he, perverfe, her 'haviour paft
refent.

Ah, me! how much I fear lest pride it be!
But if that pride it be which thus infpires,
Beware, ye dames ! with nice difcernment fee,
Ye quench not too the fparks of nobler fires :
Ah! better far than all the Mufes' lyres

(All coward arts) is valour's gen'rous heat; The firm fix'd breast which fit and right requires,

Like Vernon's patriot foul, more justly great Than craft that pimps for ill, or flow'ry falfe deceit.

And many a poet quit th' Aönian field:

And, four'd by age, profound he shall appear, As he who now, with 'fdainful fury thrill'd, Surveys mine work, and levels many a sneer, And furls his wrinkly front, and cries, 'What stuff is here!'

But now Dan Phœbus gains the middle sky,
And Liberty unbars her prifon-door;
And like a rushing torrent out they fly,
And now the graffy cirque han cover'd o'er
With boift'rous revel-rout and wild uproar.
A thousand ways in wanton rings they run;
Heaven shield their short-liv'd paftimes, I im-
plore!

For well may Freedom, erst so dearly won, Appear to British elf more gladsome than the fun.

Enjoy, poor imps! enjoy your sportive trade, And chace gay flies, and cull the faireft flow'rs; For when my bones in grafs-green fods are laid; For never may ye taste more careless hours In knightly castles or in ladics bow'rs.

O vain, to feek delight in earthly things! But moft in courts, where proud Ambition

tow'rs;

Deluded wight! who weens fair peace can fpring

Beneath the pompous dome of kefar or of king. See in each fprite some various bent appear! These rudely carol most incondite lay; Thofe faunt'ring on thegreen, with jocund leer, Salute the ftranger paffing on his way: Some builden fragile tenements of clay;

Some to the standing lake their courses bend, With pebbles fmooth, at duck and drake to play;

Thilk to the huxter's fav'ry cottage tend, In paftry kings and queens th'alloted mite to spend. Here, as each season yields a different store, Each feafon's stores in order ranged been;

Apples with cabbage-net y-cover'd o'er, Galling full fore th unmonied wight, are feen; And goofeb'rie, clad in liv'ry red or green : And here of lovely dye the Cath'rine pear; Fine pear! as lovely for thy juice I ween; O may no wight e'er pennylefs come there. Left, finit with ardent love, he pine with hopeless

care!

See cherries here, ére cherries yet abound, With thread fo white in tempting pofies tied, Scatt'ring like blooming maid their glances round,

With pamper'd look draw little eyes afide, And must be bought, tho' penury betide; The plum all azure, and the nut all brown; And here each season do those cakes abide, Whose honour'd names th' inventive city own,

Rend'ring thro' Britain's isle Salopia's praifes known.

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