King of England, and the next year the Danish army, after receiving a tribute of 72,000l. (1), or, as Henry of Huntingdon fays, 82,0ool. () from the kingdom in general, betides 10,000l. or, as others fay, 10,550l. from the city of London, returned to Denmark, leaving 40 of their A fhips in English pay.

Anno 1040, there was paid 21,099l. for tribute, and afterwards 11,0481. for the pay of 32 fhips. This is the last payment made to the Danes (p).

Danegeld was not, as has been imagined, a partial tax on a part only of the arable B lands of this kingdom, but was univerfal, and extended over the whole. The demefne lands, indeed, which belonged to the King and Queen, and thofe in the hands of their immediate tenants and fermors, though affeffed, did not pay this tax. The reafon of which is obvious: it would C be paying with one hand what they were to receive with the other. The estates of many other persons were originally, or in a courfe of years, exempted from paying it. The demefne lands of churchmen and religious houfes were excufed from it, in confcquence either of the eleemofinary D grants, by which they held their lands from the Crown, which were ufually granted (q) free from all fecular fervices, or any Exchequer tax, excepting thofe for the fupport of the army, and for the erccting fortifications or bridges; or, as free in all things, as if the property of the E 'Crown.' Or they might be entitled to this exemption by virtue of fome general grant, antecedent to the commencement of this tax; fuch as the grant made anno 694, by Withred King of Kent, and renewed afterwards in a great council by Ethelbald King of Mercia, F in the following words, (r) Wherefore we grant and confent, &c. that from 'henceforth and for ever, all churches throughout our kingdom be exempted from all fecular fervices whatsoever, to the end that they may offer facrifices

up

(n) Florent. Wigorn. p. 619. Sax. Cbron. p.151. (0) Hen. Hunt. p. 208.

(p) Saxon Chron. Anno 1040. p. 156.

(9) Libera ab omnibus fecularibus fervitiis et fifcali tribute, exceptis expeditione, arcis pentifve extru&tione. Or, Adeo libera in omnibus ficut Rex babuit in fud propriâ manu.

(r) Igitur ex bec die et deinceps concedimus et donamus, Ec. ecclefiis regni noftri liberas effe perpetua. libertate ab omnibus fecularibus fervitiis, ab omni debito vel pulfione regalium tributorum, ut poffint pro nobis Deo omnipotenti koftias dignas offerre, nofiraque percata abluere immaculatis muneribus.

G

acceptable to Almighty God, as an a tonement for our fins and iniquities.' About the reign of Hen. II. the Clergy claimed their being free from this tax, as an original right. This exemption only extended to their demefne lands, their other eftates being charged with it.

The demefne lands of the great Lords and Barons, and others, who held by military fervice, were in like manner exempted from the paying Danegeld. The reafon of this exemption feems to be, that it was unreasonable that thofe, whofe perfons were by tenure employed to ferve in the wars, thould be doubly charged, by pay ing for their lands to the fame fervice. In fome inftances lands were exempted from paying this tax, by the King's particular order.

By

R. G. D.

POETRY.

SPRING.

Redeunt jam gramina campis,

Arboribufque come.

HOR.

GAIN the bloffom'd hedge is feen:
The turf again is drefs'd in smiling green.

Again the Lark afcends the sky,
Winnows the air, and lefiens on the eye.
The fwallow, that the meads forfook,
Revifits now, and fkims along the brook.
The daw to fteeple-top up-fprings,
And the rook spreads his ventilating wings,
The feather'd tribe on ev'ry spray,
Chaunt lively carrols to the vernal day.

Each length'ning morn's diurnal light
Beams fresh beauties on the raptur'd fight.
The leaves hang cluft'ring on the trees,
And Health comes riding on the tepid breeze,
Where-e'er the Goddes fans her way,
Creation feels her univerfal fway.

The garden, moift with April fhow'rs, Teems with a family of laughing flow'rs. Not e'en a ray, or drop of rain,

237

But what impregnates, or that fhines in vain.
Yet tho' the bounteous hand of Heav'n,
All-good, this liberality has giv'n,
Beyond our wifhes amply kind
Ingratitude ftill ftains the human mind.
Man fees around Cœleftial Pow'r,

And thankless tastes the bleffings of each hour,
He reaps the produce of the plains,
And meanly thinks it tribute for his pains.
Fond wretch the fordid thought forbear,
Nor to thy narrow felf confine thy care;
For know the Deity who gives to-day,
To-night may blast thy crops, and fnatch thy foul
J. COPYWELL.

away.

I,

The TOBACCO-STOPPER.
In tenui, tenuis non gloria.

Who of late the ufeful Cork-screw fung,
Or ftrove to fing, and in Poetic Verfe
Immortalize the Tankard, now prepare
Alike to magnify that engine fmall
Tobacco-flopper hight, affociate fit

For pipe-enamour'd Toper. Blefs'd with thee
How careless does he fit, lolling at ease
Acrofs the fummit of contiguous chair.
Through the dark alley of the curved tube
The flavour of the burning Weed he draws,
And at each puff he teaches ev'ry cloud
In what due poize to ride athwart the air,
Or curl its fpiral head. Each little cloud
In exaltation climbs the paper'd plain,
Or horizontal fwims along the room,
Obedient to the blaft. Virginian Plant,
To duft confum'd, demands the preffure light;
Then with a Phyz of Gravity profound
His hand in pocket dives, where thou, perhaps,
With pence of Birmingham art fafely lodg'd;
Toothpicks and keys harfh-rattling on the ear.
Haply he finds thee. Strait a fudden smile,
Caught from internal joy, ferenes his brow,
Seen thro' the fmoaky fhade. So looks the man
Wrap'd in diftrefsful thought, Misfortune's fon,
As thro' the Mall, for want of chop, or steak,
He faunters at Meridian, when perchance
His roving eye on Splendid Shilling lights.

Begirt with many a friend, oft-times at eve,
(Whether with Bacchus, Paynim-fabled God,
The Vine's exhilarating flood I quaff
With lips impurpled, or defcend to drown
My care-tir'd thoughts in Porter's humble bath)
O! let me grafp thy waist, be thou of wood,
Or lævigated feel; for well 'tis known
Thy habit is diverfe. In iron clad,
Sometimes thy feature roughens to the fight;
And oft tranfparent art thou feen in glafs
Portending frangibility. The fon
Of lab'ring mechanism here displays
Exuberance of skill. The curious knot
The motley flourish winding down thy fides,
And freaks of fancy pour upon the view
Their complicated charms, and as they please,
Aftonish. While with glee, thy touch I feel,
No harm my finger dreads. No fractur'd pipe
I afk, or fplinter's aid, wherewith to prefs
The rifing afhes down. Oh! blefs my hand,
Chief when thou com'ft with hollow circle crown'd
With feulptur'd fignet, bearing in thy womb
The treafur'd Corkscrew. Thus a threefold fervice
In firm alliance may'ft thou boast. And thus
Myself I ferve, and on occafion due,
Extend thy ufe to an embarrass'd friend.

J. COPYWELL. Meditations on a SHEET of WRITING PAPER. S yet a blank unfully'd doft thou-lie.

As

Not fairer looks the face of fnow-crown'd Or housewife's linen, on the rural hedge [mount, Oft pendent, bleaching in the fun, feen chief When fummer fkies invite. Alas! who knows Thy fate's incertainty? What eye can pierce The cloudy veil that intercepts thy doom? Perhaps with orders mercantile replete Thy fluctuating voy'ge thou may'it extend

nt'rous, on the waves proud fummåt fail,

And reach the fartheft Ind. Or to the hand
Of widow rich, or blushing virgin, bear
Love's foft commiffion. Raptur'd at the fight
Methinks to thine fhe joins her eager lips,
Sweet as twin rofe-buds in Aurora's dew
Cæleftially embalm'd, and ftores thee fafe
Betwixt her pleasure-fwelling hills of joy,
With fmiling Nature's azure pencil ftreak'd.
Ah! could I thus, like thee, my head recline
In am'rous languifhment, and taste entranc'd
The circumambient blits! How would I kifs,
And revel on the ftrawb'ry center! Happy thought!
By all the pow'r of ardent love, I glow,
With fierce defire I glow-Keep down my heart,
Nor let thy mafter wander from his theme.
Perchance the fage in præterperfect lore
Deep read, the rights of nations may deduce
Link'd in the chain of time, and on thy leaf
Hiftoric truth infcribe. Or, woe to thought!
Thy lily-looking face may be imprefs'd
With letters dark, and words of found uncouth
Yclep'd a Sheriff's warrant. Arm'd with this
The Bailiff fallies forth with branch of oak
Tremendous, and behind him cringing clofe
Catchpole with tiger eye, and ghastly front
With many a fear indented, horrid pair!
By wretch infolvent hated. Or perhaps
A kinder fate awaits thee, doom'd to bear
The gentle preffure of Melinda's finger,
As to thy page the fecrets of her foul
Th' ecftatic Nymph imparts, or fends thee forth
In billet doux diffected round the town
But oh! prophetic thought! conjecture fad!
Methinks I fee thee underneath the hand
Of daring bard. Full fraught with Poetry,
Or fomething fimilar, he deems thee choice
Fit food for Lloyd's, or monthly Magazine.
And, tho' true merit dwell in thy contents
Full oft it meets with treatment bafe, pas'd o'er
By Printer injudicious, and confign'd
To ufe obfcene, unworthy; which, if nam'd
Would call a blush into the Mufes cheek,
And flood the Poet's eye with angry tears.
Or, if this accident thou fhould't furvive,
Difgrace attends thee ftill, obfcure on fhelf,
On fhelf of duft reclining, 'midft a heap
Of literary rubbish, 'till a Slave

Of money-loving foul to Pastry-cook,
Or petty Chandler fell thee. Thence in tarts
To dirty hand of School-boy may'st thou come,
Or fweat in grease of candle, or enwrap
Salt butter's quartern. Then when fluttish nymph
Has fhew'd thee ev'ry corner of her garret,
And with her hands oft dabb'd thee, chang'd thy hue
To dye abhorr'd, and fqualid as her own,
She leaves thee hifling in a fmall-coal grate
"Till all thy fheet evaporate in fame.
But to pursue thee failing down the tide
Of mystic chance, my little bark defpairs.
Here then I moor, and give thee to the sport
Of winds, whilft I in perilous attempts
Lefs daring, court the fafety of the shore.

J. COPYWELL. DR'U M1

The FEMALE Or, the Origin of CARDS. ATale. Address'd to the Honourable Mifs C. HOU, whom to counfel, is to praife, With candour veiw thefe friendly lays,

T

Nor, from the Vice of Gaming free,
Believe the Satire points at thee;

Who truth and worth betimes can't prize,
Nor yet too fprightly to be wife.
But hear this tale of antient time,
Nor think it vain, tho' told in rhime..
Elate with wide extended pow'r,
Sworn rivals from the natal hour,
Av'rice and Sloth, with hoftile art,
Contended long for Woman's heart:
She, fond of wealth, afraid of toil,
Sull fhifted the capricious fmile;
By turns, to each the heart was fold,
Now bought with ease, and now with gold;
Scarce either graip'd the Sov'reign fway,
When chance revers'd the profp'rous day,
The doubtful trife was ftill renew'd,
Each baffled oft, but ne'er fubdu'd;
When Av'rice fhew'd the glitt'ring prize,
And hopes and fears began to rife,
Sloth fhed on ev'ry buty fenfe
The gentle balm of indolence.
When Sloth had screen'd with artful night
The foft pavilion of delight;
Stern Avrice, with reproachful frown,
Would featter thorns amongst her down.
Thus each by turns the realm controul'd,
Which each in turn defpair'd to hold;
At length, unable to contend,
They join to chufe a common friend,
To clofe, in love, the long debate,
Such love, as mutual fears create;
A friend they chofe, a friend to both,
Of Av'rice born, and nurs'd by Sloth;
An artful nymph, whofe reign began
When wildom ceas'd to dwell with man;
In wifdom's awful robes array'd,
She rules o'er Politicks and Trade;
And, by the name of Cunning known,
Makes wealth, and fame, and pow'r her own.
In quest of Cunning, then, they rove
O'er all the windings of the grove,
Where twining boughs their fhades unite,
For Cunning ever flies the light;

At length thro' maze perplext with maze,
Through tracts confus'd and private ways
With finking hearts and weary feet,
They gain their Fav'rite's dark retreat;
There, watchful at the gate, they find
Sufpicion, with her eyes behind;
And wild Alarm, awal, blows
The trumph, that fhakes the world's repofe.
The guests well known, falute the guard,
The hundred gates are foon unbarr'd ;
Through half the gloomy cave they prefs,
And reach the wily Queen's recess;
The wily Queen difturb'd, they view,
With fchemes to fly, though none pursue;

And, in perpetual care to hide,

What none will ever feek, employ'd.

'Great Queen (they pray'd) our feuds compofe, 'And let us never more be foes.'

"This hour (fhe cries) your difcord ends,
"Henceforth, be Sloth, and Av'rice friends;
"Henceforth, with equal pride, prepare
"To rule at once the captive fair."
Th' attentive row'rs, in filence heard,
Nor utter'd what they hop'd or fear'd,

But fearch'd in vain the dark decree, For Cunning loves obfcurity;

or would the foon her laws explain, For Cunning ever joys to pain.

239

She then before their wond'ring eyes, Bids piles of painted paper rife: "Search now thefe heaps (fhe cries) here find "Fit emblem of your pow'r combin'd." The heap to Av'rice, first she gave, Who foon defcry'd her darling knave; And Sloth, e'er envy long could fting, With joyful eyes beheld a King. "Thefe gifts (faid Cunning) bear away, "Sure engines of defpotick fway; "These charms difpenfe o'er all the ball, "Secure to rule, where-e'er they fall. "The love of Cards let Sloth infufe, "The love of Money foon enfues; "The strong defire fhall ne'er decay, "Who plays to win, fhall win to play; "The breaft, where love had plann'd his reiga "Shall burn, unquench'd, with luft of gain; "And all the charms that wit can boaf, "In dreams of better luck be loft."

Thus, neither innocent, nor gay,
The useless hours fhall fleet away.
While time o'erlooks the trivial ftrife,
And, fcoffing, shakes the fands of life;
'Till the wan Maid, whofe early bloom
The Vigils of Quadrille confume;
Exhaufted, by the pangs of play,
To Sloth, and Av'rice, falls a prey.

The last WILL and TESTAMENT of a
BRITISH TAR.

N the name of God, I Thomas Oakham,
Now Compos mentis, fine Jokum,
On this good fixteenth day of April,
Of neither palfy, gout, or vapor, ill;
Since all muft ftrike or late, or foon
Life's flag, to Death, that Picaroon,
Do make, tho' not a jot my body's ill,
This my laft Teftament, or Codicil.

Item, for I must use the form,
I leave my bull to fish, or worm;
As to my mafts, and throwds, and rigging,
They'll ferve fome honeft Tar to pig in;
Since all I have is on my back,

I leave 'em to my mell-mate Jack---
And having neither Meuks, nor Splinter,
I leave my trowlers to Dick Winter.
My buckles---for they're good hard plate,
I leave, for love, to Portsmouth Kate---
My foul, to him that gave it, I
Give back---but not before I die,
Hoping it may good harbour find
Safe anchor'd---both from feas and wind.

Having difpos'd of ev'ry thing,
Except my Country and my King,
It is not decent fure to die

And leave to them no legacy--

To Portfmouth, where I drew my breath,
I leave my bleffing at my death;

* Sea Terms for Money.

"Twas