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All playful as she fate, she grows demure ;
She finds full soon her wonted spirits flee; 175
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 swells in either eye,
And wrings her so that all for pity she could die. 180

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No longer can she now her shrieks command;
And hardly she forbears, thro' aweful fear,
To rushen forth, and, with presumptuous hand,
To stay harsh justice in its mid career.
On thee she calls, on thee her parent dear! 18;
(Ah! too remote to ward the shameful blow!)
She sees no kind domestic visage near,

And soon 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? (190
The form uncouth of his disguised face ?
The pallid hue that dyes his looks amain ?
The plenteous show'r that does his cheek distain?
When he, in abject wise, implores the dame, 195
Ne hopeth aught of sweet reprieve to gain;

Or when from high she levels well her aim,
And, thro' the thatch, his cries each falling stroke

proclaim.
Vol. II.

D

The other tribe, aghaft, with fore dismay,
Attend, and conn their talks with micklecare: 200
By turns, aftony'd, ev'ry twig survey,
And, from their fellow's hateful wounds, beware;
Knowing, I wilt, how each the fame may share ;
'Till fuar has taught them a performance meet,
And to the well-known chest the dame repair; 205

Whence oft with sugar'd cates she doth’em greet, And ginger-bread y-rare; now, certes, doubly sweet!

210

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

His grievous wrong; his dame's unjust beheft; 215 And scorns her offer'd love, and shuns to be caress’d.

His eye besprent 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. 220
O the hard bosoms of despotic pow'r !
All, all, but she, the author of his shame,
All, all, but she, regret this mournful hour :
Yet hence the youth, and hence the flow'r, shall

claim, Iffo Ideem aright, transcending worth and fame. 225

Behind fơme door, in melancholy thought,
Mindless of food he, dreary caitiff! pines ;
Ne for his fellow's joyaunce careth aught,
Bút to the wind all merriment resigns ;
And deems it shame, if he to peace inclines; 223
And many a sullen look ascance is sent,
Which for his dame's annoyance he designs ;

And still the more to pleasure him she's bent, The more doth he, perverse, her haviour past resent

Ah me! how much I fear lest pride it be! 235
But if that pride it be, which thus inspires,
Beware, ye dames, with nice discernment see,
Ye quench not too the sparks of nobler fires :
Ah! better far than all the muses' lyres,
All coward arts, is valour's gen'rous heat ; 240
The firm fixt breast which fit and right requires,

Like Vernon's patriot soul ; more juftly great Than craft that pimps for ill, or flow'ry false deceit.

Yet nurs'd with skill, what dazzling fruits appear!
Ev'n now sagacious foresight points to show 245
A little bench of heedless bishops here,
And there a chancellour in embryo,
Or bard sublime, if bard may e'er be so, [die!
As Milton, Shakespear, names that ne'er shall
Tho' now he crawl along the ground so low, 250

Nor weeting how the muse should foar on high, Witheth, poor starv'ling elf! his paper kite may fly.

And this perhaps, who, cens’ring the design,
Lowlays the house which that of cards doth build,
Shall Dennis be! if rigid fate incline, 255
And many an epic to his rage shall yield;
And many a poet quit th’ Aonian field ;
And, sour’d by age, profound he shall appear,
As he who now with 'sdainful fury thrilld,

Surveys mine work; and levels many a sneer, 260 And furls his wrinkly front, and cries, “ What stuff

(is here?But now Dan Phoebus gains the middle skie, And liberty unbars her prison-door ; And like a rushing torrent out they fly, And now the graffy cirque han cover'd o'er 265 With boiít'rous revel-rout and wild uproar; A thousand ways in wanton rings they run, Heav'n shield iheir short-liv’d pastimes, I implore !

For well may feedom, erst so dearly won, Appear to British elf more gladsome than thesun. 270

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

275
O vain to seek delight in earthly thing!
But mot in courts where proud ambition tow'rs;

Deluded wight! who weens fair peace can spring Beneath the pompous dome of kefar or of king.

See in each sprite some various bent appear! 280
These rudely carol molt incondite lay;
Those saunt'ring on the green, with jocund leer
Salute the stranger palling on his way ;
Some builden fragile tenements of clay ;
Some to the standing lake their courses bend, 285
With pebbles smooth at duck and drake to play;

Thilk to the huxter's fav'ry cottage tend,
In paitry kings and queens th'allotted mite to fpend.

Here, as each season yields a different store,
Each season's stores in order ranged been ; 290
Apples with cabbage-net y-cover'd o'er,
Galling full fore th’unmoney'd wight, are seen;
And goose-b’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. 295

O may no wight e'er pennyless come there,
Left smit with ardent love he pine with hopeleis care!

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See! cherries here, ere cherries yet abound,
With thread io white in tempting posies ty’d,
Scatt’ring like blooming maid their glances
round,

300
With pamper'd look draw little eyes aside ;
And mut be bought, tho' penury betide.
The plumb all azure and the nut all brown,
And here each season do those cakes abide, (305

Whose honour'd names * th’ inventive city own, Rend'ring thro' Britain's ille Salopia's praises known.

* Shrewsbury cakes.

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