THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES / ^3 y Bv R.Roberts; i.-^ •/rr/ ^y/z/z/rrr /^v ^-y. feu, ^///. ALBERT, EDWARD AND LAURA AND The hermit of PRIESTLANDj THREE LEGENDARY TALES, By R. R O B E R T S. " Thus when the tranfient dream of life is fled, " May fome fad friend recal the former years ; *' Then ftretch'd in filence o'er my dufly bed, *' Pour the warm gufh of fympathetic tears." Ogilvte. LONDON: Printed for T. Cad ell, in the Strand, M DCCLXXXIII. [ Price 2S. ] TO TPIE HONOURABLE Lady MARY FITZMAURICE. M A D A M, TH E Tales, which I do myfelf the honour to prefent to your Ladyfhip, may ferve to amufe an hour, by that ferious, though not unpleafing fen- fation, which the mind is inchned to feel from a contemplation of the manners of antiquity, fo far removed from modern life. In thofe early days, Love, together with falfe notions of Religion, as well as Honour, carried their profefTors to an ardour^ of enthufiafm which, though it may pleafe in deicription, is what we fhould rather wifh to avoid than imitate ; yet in fo doing we are apt to err on the oppofitc fide, and the fine paflions of humanity are ridiculed in a manner that confounds the ideas we fhould have of them ; and even the facred name of Religion is too often difgraced by the opprobrious one of Superftition. There are indeed a diftinguifhed few, who, without difcarding the finer feelings of the foul, have admitted the embellifhments of modern fafhion. — Amongft thofe happy few, give me leave to mention Lady Mary Fitzmaurice. The concurring voice of the world agree, that refined tendernefs, and the polite 4 eafe 739087 [ 4 ] eafe of modern accomplifiiments, are joined in her ; and that the familiar eafy manners of Mr. Fitzmau- RicE, united with ancient hofpitahty, give to that charming romantic country in which they refide, even in thefe days when every peafant is free, an afpe£l of happy vaffalage divefted of the iron rod of oppreffion. In behalf of the Tales, which I am permitted to addrefs to your Ladyiliip, I have only to fay, that I have endeavoured to intereft the pafTions, without offending morality or delicacy ; and in thofe which may more immediately he ftyled my own, being purely invention, I have wiilied to convey fbme moral, to difplay the evil confequence of giving way to jealoufy arid revenge, thofe turbulent paiTions, which prey upon and deform the heart of man : even Love, the moft gentle of all, will, if not under the guidance of rcafon, produce unhappinefs to thofe who are a£luated by it. How far I have fucceeded, I am myfelf no judge- but if you, Madam, fmile upon my poetic labours, J fhall have no fears of criticifm from the reft of the world. I am. Madam, With the utmoft refpe(9:, Your Ladyfliip's obliged, And obedient humble fervant, R. ROBERTS. ALBERT, LEGENDARY TALE. I 7 J TT A HE following romantic Tale is fiippofed to have happened in the reign of Edward the Third, when the religious order of Knighthood, whence the fubjea: of it is taken, was in its zenith. The fcene of the converfation is laid in the grounds of a houfe belonging to the knights of St. John of Jerufalem, HOW in the poffeffion of John Bacon Efq.— It is fitu- ated near Eaft Barnet, in Middlefex, and ftill bears the name of The Friery. There are about it fome remams of antiquity- and the pariOi church was once the chapel of the monaftery. The appearance of the place, in an evening's walk by moon-liaht, firft led the author to a train of thoughts, which made her defign the Tale that now, with two: others, makes its public entry into the world. [ 9 ] B E R « O fhe was all ! *♦ My fame, my frlendfliip, and my love of arms, " All floop'd to her ; my blood was her poffeflion *' Deep in the fecret foldings of my heart, ;*' She liv'd with life, and far the dearer flie." Young's Revenge^ 1. HAIL to this venerable pile, Where erft thofe holy feet have trod, Who fled the world's deceitful fmile, And fought in folitude their God. Within 10 A L B E R T> II. Within thofe walls Jerus'lem's knights, Grown grey beneath the helmet's plume, H.ave found in pray'r unmix'd delights, While facred truths their fouls illume. III. That hallow'd ground, where blended duft Of pious warriors mould'ring lies, Holds the bleft relicks of the juft, Whofe fpirits mounted to th^ Ikies. IV. That holy fane, whofe ivied head, Now bounds the penfive, pleafing fcene, Did fainted heroes fbftly tread, Devote to God, by man unfeen. V. And here in focial hours of praife, St. John's enfignia plac'd on high. Did they their choral voices raife, And loud hofannas pierc'd the fky. This A LEGENDARY TALE. ii VI. This grove, whofe bending boughs unite. The pointed gothic arch to form, Reprefs'd the fun's too pow'rful h'ght, Or fhielded from the beating ftorm. VII. And here the rifing face of day Did oft their morning walk invite,^ Their early facrifice to pay, And feek from Heav'n a purer light. VIII. Or when the fetting day declin'd, Oft would thofe friendly brothers walk; And while they earthly cares refign'd, Beguile the hour with pleafmg talk.. IX. There many a tale of woe relate, That call'd them from the world's gay fcene* The various labyrinths of fate, Which fix'd them in this fpot ferene*. Beneath 12 ALBERT, X. IBeneath that oak's embow'rlng fhade, AVhofe leaves exclude the folar ray, Albert his fad devotions paid, And figh'd the live-long hours away, XI. Here oft the mofly bank he preft, And wet the turf with many a tear; While fecret prayers, to Heav'n addreft, Call'd forth each pitying faint to hear. XII. The friendly brothers faw his grief, Though ftill the caufe remain'd unknown, And vainly ftrove to give relief; For forrow call'd this knight her own. XIII. But Eldred, caft in pity's mold. Who long the Prior's feat had fill'd-. Within whofe heart the cloifter's cold^ -Had not the fecial virtues chill'd : For A LEGENDAPvY TALE. 13 XIV. For Albert's woes he inly bled, And wifli'd his confidence to gain ; His heart, by pity's impulie led, Panted to fboth the mourner's pain. XV. One evening, by the moon's pale light, The fage this facred vifta trod. Where, 'midft the darkfome gloom of night, His thoughts were all abforb'd in God. XVI. When through the fblitary glade. Where gleaming light (b darkly fhone. To reach the thick embower'd lliade, Albert was gliding all alone j XVII. His fighs the awful filence broke, Which reign'd the folemn fcene around j In broken plaints his grief he fpoke, Till broken plaints in tears were drown'd. D Eldred, BERT, XVIII. Eldred, in holy viiion bleft, Was wak'd by pity moving found ; Humanity, his conftant gueft, Gave to his feeling heart a wound, XIX. He thus the mourning knight addreft ; *' Oh! Albert, fure 'twill not offend, " That, when I foe thee thus oppreft, ** I fhare the forrows of a friend. XX. *^ I no enquiring wifhes feel, " My mind no curious fancy leads ; *' My only wifh thofe woes to heal, *' With which my brother's bofom bleeds." XXI. To him, fad Albert thus replied, ** I long have known my Prior's worth; *' To him each virtue is allied, " And human mis'ry calls them forth. " But A LEGENDARY TALE. 15 XXIL " But nought, alas ! can me avail ; ** Oh lift, my father and my friend, " Whilft 1 relate the tragic tale " Of evils, which can never end. xxin. " Once, in the funfhine of my days, ** The winged hours with pleafure flew, " The op'ning morn did profpe£ls raife, Of joys ftill ipringing to my view. (( XXIV. " High birth and wealth confpir'd to blefs, ** And love, fweet foft'ner of the whole, " Did unreftrain'd my heart poflefs, " And fhed his influence through my foul. XXV. " I lov'd, and wedded to the fair, " For whom my heart inceffant beat j ** Each earthly blifs was center'd there, " And happinefs feem'd all compleat. Oh i6 ALBERT, XXVI. ** Oh Heav'n ! how could deception dwell *' Beneath that lovely, guilelefs form ? " Oh guilt, thou genuine child of hell, " Why did'ft thou not that face deform ? XXVII. " All foft and innocent her looks, *' Her thoughts feem'd written in her eyes ; " I ftudied them as virtue's books, " But thofe blue heavens were all dilguife, XXVIII. *' More my domeftic joys to blend, *' Friendfhip beftow'd its pleafmg pow'r; *' In early youth I gain'd a friend, ** Whofe converfe charm' d each rifing hour. XXIX. ** Fortune to him was moft unkind, ** And humble his paternal cot ; " What heart-felt joy then fill'd my mind, ** To jQiare with him my happier lot. *' Egbert A LEGENDARY TALE. 17 XXX. *' Egbert was as a brother lov'd, " My artlefs foul on him reclin'd ; " My Julia too my''friend approv'd, " And in the bond fraternal join'd. XXXL " Unhappy league ! A lawlefs flame " Was rais'd in Egbert's treach'rous breaft; *' Ah bafe return! detefted name I *' Which 'reft his haplefs friend of reft. xxxn. ** Ah me ! my unfulpe6ling heart, ** Glowing with love, and friend (hip's fire, *' Unconfcious of the villain's part, " Beat with no racking jealous ire. XXXIIL " Oft, with a feeming gen'rous pride, " He'd wail his hard, dependant fate ; " Though every a6l I ftrove to hide, ** Which ferv'd that rigour to abate. E ' " At i8; A L B E R T, XXXIV. ** At length, to eafe my friend from pain, ** His dignity of foul had rais'd, ** And free his heart Yrom that difdain, " My mind alternate blam'd and prais'd ; XXXV. " I try'd my intereft with the king, " Whofe conqu'ring bands I once did lead ; " I flew to court on friendfhip's wing, " That facred tye encreas'd my fpeed. XXXVI. " My royal mafter heard my fuit, " And, as a prince, the meed beftow'd ; " At my requeft transferr'd the fruit, " He thought he to my fervice ow'd. XXXVII. *' What joy my glowing bofom felt ! " When Edward's ever lib'ral hand, *' Gave to the friend, for whom I knelt, ** A poft of profit and command. 8 " Eager A LEGENDARY TALE. 19 XXXVIIL ** Eager the tidings to declare, " I trufted not the courier's hafte ; " Myfelf the welcome news would bear, " And with my friend the pleafure tafte. XXXIX. " Juft as the fetting fun decUn'd, *' I reach'd my once belov'd retreat ; ** And ent'ring through a wood behind, " Which led to Julia's fav'rite feat; XL. ** What language can expreflion find ? ** What words can paint the guilty fcene ? " From thofe dread ftruggles in my mind, " Oh father ! guefs the guilt I mean. XLL " The wife, who kept my treafur'd hearty ** The friend, my bofom held moft dear j " Nature with horror feem'd to ftart, " And caft around a wildnefs drear. " Rage 2a ALBERT, XLir, " Rage and revenge my foul poffeft ; ** The Furies cry'd, Spare not fuch guilt : *' In Egbert's falfe, ungrateful breaft, *' I plung'd my dagger to the hilt. XLIII. *' Then reeking from the gaping wound, " The blood-ftain'd weapon forth I drew, ** Whilft Julia, kneeling on the ground, *' Did for returning mercy fue. XLIV. ** For thee what mercy can I feel ? *' I faid, and turn'd my face afide ; ** When the revengeful, fatal fteel, ** In life's warm blood was doubly dy'd. XLV. " Oh father ! from reproach refrain, *' Though all deferv'd its arrows fly; *' Pity the horrors I fuftain ; *' To me 'twere happinefs to die. Too A LEGENDARY TALE. 2i XLVL ** Too dark their crime to be forgiven, *' Yet bold the wretch who vengeance deals; ** Vengeance belongs alone to Heaven, " Whofe juftice wounds, whofe mercy heals. XLvn. ** Here I repentant fbrrows pay, " To them whofe blood I once did fhed ; " In tears I wafte the waning day, *' And Ipend my vigils with the dead. XLVin. " Add to my tears thy pious pray'r, ** For fuch in Heaven hath much avail, " That I at length that grace may fhare, " Whofe facred fountains never fail." XLIX. Eldred, with tears and heart-felt fighs,. Mov'd flowly through the deep'ning fhadc ; ** Thou haft my pray'rs, my fbn^ he cries ; *' I can no more — ^be God thy aid." F Albert 22 ALBERT, A LEGENDARY TALE. L. Albert retlr'd within his cell, Where on the ground he proftrate lay ; His breaft contending paflions fwell, He figh'd the lonely night away. EDWARD AND LAURA, LEGENDARY TALE, TAKEN FROM A STORY SAID TO HAVE HAPPENED IN THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY. [ 25 ] ARGUMENT. X HE time of the Crufades was an sera as favour- able to the romantic paffion of love as it was to the enthufiaftic fpirit of religion : the like ardent zeal animated the heroes fouls in both thofe glorious caufes; and if it fometimes carried them to excefs, it was, however, an error on the fide of virtue; it was a frantic herolfnii the only fpecres of madnefs which the moderns, particularly of this country, are not apt to fall into. A fordid love of f !i was a principle that never could find admittance into the breaft of a real knight errant, in whom zeal for his Saviour was the firft, and love of his miftrefs the fecond leading motive for every a£lIon of his life: in fuch circumftances. It may be fuppofed many inci- dents happened which ferved to form the novels, of which that age was fb fond. Among a number of florles which I have feen, that which gave rife to the fojlowlng Poem aiFeded me G. the. [ 26 ] the moft. The ftory is fimply this. A nobleman of Normandy (a country in which the nobihty formerly prided themfelves on a long train of anceftors, illuf- trious by hardy deeds of valour) had an only daugh- ter, who w^as courted by a young gentleman of worth and honour, but of a family which had no lineage to boaft of The nobleman, alarmed at it, expoftulated with great bitternefs with the young lady, and took the opportunity, while her lover was engaged in a crufade, to ufurp a powxr over her inclinations which no parental authority could give him, and force her to marry the Count de Coucy. The news reached her lover, then at the fiege of Buda, who in defpair threw himfelf into the foremoil rank, and foon re- ceived a mortal wound. Seeing himlelf at the point of death, he called his attendant, and defired that, as foon as he was dead, his heart might be taken from his body, baked hard in an oven, and then ground to powder, put into a gold box, and conveyed to his miftrefs with a letter. The trufty fervant was eager to execute his dying mafter's commands j but by an unfortunate accident the letter was intercepted, and fell into the hands of the Lord de Coucy, who, ftung with jealoufy, gave ^ the C 27 J the powder to his cook, with orders to mix it In a ragout, which he prevailed on his wife to eat, afTuring her it was falutary for that languifhing diforder which fhe had from the time of her marriage laboured under : but no fooner was his requeft complied with, than with a malignant plcafure he told her what he had done. The unhappy lady fhrieked with horror, and with a flood of tears declared fhe would never more touch food ; after which fhe went to bed, and never rofe again, I have deviated in a fmall degree from the ftory, juft to make the lady fuppofe her lover dead before fhe yielded to marry another; and the ragout not being fo proper to give to a lady in a confumption, I have changed into a cordial. " Howe'er exalted or depreft, *' Be ever mine the feeling breaft : <* Life fill'd with griefs diflrefsful train, ** Forever afks the tear humane. Langhorne. [ ^^9 ] EDWARD AND LAURA. I. TN ancient days a Norman Baron liv'd, •*- Who, having pafs'd his youthful years in war, Amidft his friends and valTals then receiv'd The honours dearly bought by many a fear. One child he had, a fair and virtuous maid, Who tend'reft care with filial love repaid. IL The beauteous Dame, to whom fhe ow'd her birth, Beftowing Hfe, had yielded up her own ; The day defign'd for joy and feftive mirth, Was fiU'd with cries of woe and plaintive moan. The weeping Sire his darling often ey'd, *' My Laura lives in thee," as often cry'd. H The JO EDWARD AND LAURA, III. The lovely Laura grew, by all admlr'd. Her Father's joy, his hope, his favourite care ;- - And many a gentle Knight, by love infpir'd, In tender accents breath'd the ardent prayer : But the fell Sifters her fad lot had caft,. Her fatal doom irrevocably paft. IV. A 'Squire, who fortune's fmiles had never fhar'd. But was with nature's gifts profufely bleft, In fome fbft moment had his love declar'd. And found a tender pleader in her breaft : To him with pleafure oft fhe lent an ear. And all his fondeft vows would kindly hear. V. Their mutual love could not be long conceal'd, A father's prying eye the fecret found ; That read what Laura's eyes too well reveal'd, And fame, too bufy, fpread the tale around : Struck with difdain, the haughty Baron cry'd, " My daughter ne'er fliall be this Peafant's bride." ■a. With A, LEGENDARY TALE. 3r VL With eager hafte he to his daughter Hew,. And thus in gentle terms the maid addreft : " My Laura's happinefs, my conftant view,, " Benignant Heav'n has giv'n to my requeft ; ** A noble Earl demands thee for a wife, ** And crowns with joy thy father's ebb of life.'*' VIL No words can paint the haplefs maid's furprize. In vain fhe ftrove to fpeak, her voice was drown'd^ Her Ipeech was choak'd amidft her rifmg fighs ; O'ercome with grief, fhe funk upon the ground : Again fhe try'd to fpeak, her tongue deny'd. But tears and dumb complaints the want fupply'd, VIIL The Baron faw this conflid in her mind. But rage, not pity, glow'd within his breaft ; With words determin'd, and with looks unkind,. His fix'd refolves he harllily thus exprefl : *' That folly which thou dread'ft, fond girl, to own,. *' To thy wrong'd father is already known. ** But j2 EDWARD AND LAURA, IX. *^' But hear what I, thy offended Sire, declare, ** And think what duty does of thee demand; *' A ftranger to my blood fhall be my heir, ^' Unlcls to this brave Earl thou giv'ft thy hand: *' My hoary head will foon fmk down to reft, " A Parent's curfe to thee's my laft bequeft," X. This faid, with frowning afl:)c£l he withdrew, Aiid left th' unhappy Fair to grief a prey : A grave of firs near Fayel Cajlk grew. To which the lovely mourner bent her way ; Here firft did Edward breathe the tender talc. And here o'er Laura's fears did Love prevail, XL Here as flie walk'd, remembrance of the paft, And fad foreboding of the future years, O'er Laura's mind the gloom of ev'ning caft. And all fpontaneous fell a fliower of tears : Her heart, by love of virtue only fir'd, JBewalld the pride which lordly birth infpir'd. While A LEGENDARY TALE. 33 XIL While thus fhe wept, thro' the fequefter'd fhade, Where ev'ry eve he met his much-lov'd Fair, Edward approach'd the melancholy maid, With downcaft eyes, and looks which fpoke defpair. The Ibrrow which o'ercharg'd his manly breaft, At length found vent ; he thus his grief expreft. XIIL " I alk not, Laura, why the rifing figh ** Does from thy gentle boibm thus afcend ; " Nor why the tears thus trickle from your eye ; ** Too well I know the caufe, my lovely friend, " Ah, Laura ! once 1 hop'd a fofter name, ** A tend'rer epithet, my love might claim. XIV. ** Love, the great leveller of human pride, " Which makes the Monarch kneel before his (lave, " Which all our boaftcd titles does deride, *' That foe to wealth, that conqu'ror of the brave, <* Made me forget my humble lot of life, " And dare to think of Laura for a wife. I '' But 34 EDWARD and LAURA, XV. *' But Fay ah Lord has check'd my afpirlng foul, ** And fhewn the diftance 'twixt your fiatc and minc^, " And though my conftant love bears no controul, '* Yet will I ne'er difgrace his noble Hue : *' Up honour's fteep afcent I'll force my way, " And Laura's charms will dangers overpay.. XVI. " A faithful band of warriors now unite, " The Chriftian banner's to their view difplay'd,, ** Againft th' infulting Saracens they fight, *' And call an injur'd Saviour to their aid. *' In fuch a caufe my lowly blood fliall rife, " And Fame's emblazon'd coat ihall be my prize. XVII. ** Then crown'd with honours (hall your Knight return, " And lay his trophies at his Fair-one's feet ; " No more conceal'd his ardent flame fhall burn, " But gentle Laura fhall his paffion meet : " Nay e'en your father will our faith approve, " And with his fandion blefs our well try'd love.'* While 3:5b A LEGENDARY TALE. XVIIL While thus he fpoke, alternate hope and fear With warring conflids fill'd his Laura's bread ; To hope of rifing fame fhe gave an ear. Then dread of dreary death her foul po/Teft :- Till yielding to neceffity's ftrong tide, To Edward's reafons thus the maid reply'd.. XIX. " Alas I brave Sir, from whence this pride of birth, " On which our Nobles lay fuch mighty flrefs ? " Does Nature fill their molds with finer earth ? " Or Wifdom with fuperior talents blefs ? " Your brighter worth declares the tale untrue, " And Nature juftifies her work in you. XX. " But if the Chriftian's faith your bofom warms, " Thofe facred truths with zeal your foul infpire, " May its great Leader fmih upon your arms, " And on th' infulting foe pour all his ire. " May Heaven's proteding pow'r my Edward ihield, " Aiid bring him fafe with conqueft from the field." To ^6 EDWARD AND LAURA, XXI. To Laura's pious wifh the youth replies, ** I truft our Lord will lend a pitying ear, " Such virtuous orifbns afcend the fkies, ** And Faith defcending baniihes all fear. *' Faith, hope, and love, fliall animate my breaft, ** And Hymen's facred torch fhall be my creft. XXIL " But fliould that land receive my breathlefs clay, *' Where once God's Temple rear'd its facred head j *' There once cnclos'd a God incarnate lay, ** And thence a glorious band of Martyrs led. " If I, like them, by blood my faith fliouId prove, *' To diftant worlds I'd bear my Laura's love. XXIII. <* Farewell then, deareft maid, if Heav'n ordains *' That you no more fliall blefs my longing eyes, ** This lail embrace fhall heal my future pains, ** And chear my foul when vanquifh'd Nature dies. " To God's protecting pov\Tr I leave my Fair, *' The charge of fem.ale worth his angels ihsre." A. With A LEGENDARY TALEv 37 XXIV. With mingled tears, and looks of deep diftrefs. The unhappy pair figh'd out their lafl: adieus ; The lamp of hope funk ev'ry moment lefs ; No ray of light fhone forth to diftant views. She to the caftle bent her penfive way, He feeks the camp where Chriftian banners play^ XXV. Now in the field the warlike foldiers, led By hardy chiefs, the hallow'd Crofs difplay. Where Mahojnet his impious laws had fpread, Thro' troops of Infidels they forc'd their way. Where danger prefs'd, brave Edward ftill was neari Love fiU'd his foul,, and left no room for fear^ XXVL Join'd with a fmall, but chofen youthful band, Whofe fouls, like his, with ardent zeal were fir'd,, He drove embodied legions from that land, Where holy lips by truth were firft infpir'd. Deeds fuch as thefe rais'd Edward's martial fame. And Knighthood gave due honour to his name. K- But ^8 EDWARD AND LAURA,_ XXVU, ^ut'bent on conqueft, eager for the fight, ;'He once his enemies too far purfu'd ; They feem'd to feek their fafety in their flight, Till fudden fuccour their loft hopes renew'd. Redoubled rage now fill'd th' exulting foe, And Edward fell beneath th' avenging blow. XXVIII. The fatal news fbon reach'd fair Laura's ear. That Edward fell, by numbers overpower'd ; Ko more the confli(fi: now 'twixt hope and fear. But grief alone its baleful influence fhower'd, Defpair became an Inmate in her breaft, And her whole foul was funk in gloomy reft. XXIX. Her father by each fbothing fondnefs ftrove To heal the angulfti which pofTefs'd her mind; He wifti'd fuccefs had crown'd their haplefs love, And oft with tears the lovely mourner join'd.: This lenient balm a parent's hand fupply'd, By flow degrees her ftreaming forrows dry'd. Parental ^LEGENDARY TALE. 39 XXX. Parental tendernefs, with watchful eye, Still mark'd the progrefs of declining grief; Each day fome varied fcene it did fupply. And ftudied ev'ry art to give relief; Till th' impaflion'd heart had ceas'd to bleedj And ferious foftnefs did the ftorm fucceed. XXXT. The Baron ftill, his fav'rite wifh in view, Waited the moment when the look ferene, "Which gently on fair Laura's afpeft grew, And beam'd enchanting graces thro' her mien, Reviv'd ambitious hopes within his breaft, That grandeur fhould his future lineage blefs. XXXIL De Coucy, yet a lover of the Fair, Ren^w'd his vows in warm but humble ftrain ; His ardent fuit, back'd by a Father's pray'r, Did in her tender mind an influence gain. Tho' dead to love, (he yielded to his will., Whofe wifhes duty taught her to fulfil. 4 A blooming, 40 EDWARD AND LAURA, XXXIII. A blooming, yet a melancholy bride, With mild relu£lance ilie beftow'd her hand ; And ev'ry effort o'er her heart fhe try'd, To make it yield to wedlock's ftern command. By gentle fmiles fhe ftrove her woes to heal, Nor fuffer'd iighs her anguiOi to reveal. XXXIV. while Edward bleeding on the hoftile plain, Where gallant Knights in death promilcuous lay,. Suppos'd like them to be amongft the flain, By hands of Sarace?is was borne away. Refcu'd from death, alas ! to be a flave. From death, lefs dreaded by the truly brave. XXXV. Twice had the fun gone his fucceflive round, Ere chance of battle fet the captive free ; The vi6lor chiefs their long-loft comrade found, And more than life, they gave him liberty. Little, alas I did all thefe gifts avail ! When from their lips he heard the fatal tale. Oh A LEGENDARY TALE. 4^ XXXVL << Oh Laura, perjur'd Fair," the lover cry'd, <' Never, ah ! never can'ft thou now be mine ; " Would that at Salem s facred walls I had dy'd ; <' Happy that hallow'd earth had been my fhrine, <' But ftill devoted to Christ's holy law, <' 'Gainft thee, oh Mahomet^ my fword I draw." XXXVIL For Buda now the gallant troops prepar'd. And hopclefs Edward join'd the martial band ; Where dangers prefs'd, the foremoft ftill he dar'd, His courage fcarcely fubjea to command. Death feem'd the objea which he had in view, Through hofts of foes he did the fhade purfue. xxxvin. Nor vain his fearch ; full foon a bow Vv as bent. The deadly dart was lodg'd within his breaft ; His weeping foldicrs bore him to his tent. By fkilfu-l hands his bleeding wound was dreft ; But the envcnom'd point all art withftood. And rankling poifon mingled with his blood. L Immortal 42 ED W A P. D A ND L A U R A, XXXIX. Immortal fcenes now op'ning to his eyes, Could aught on earth employ one moment's care ? Was there an objed; yet beneath the fkies That could with Heav'n his warm afFe£lion fhare ? In that dread hour did Love an entrance find. And Laura's image featcd in his mind. XL. While ebbing life his trembling frame fuflain'd,; In moving terms he penn'd his laft adieu ; Of fate alone the unhappy youth complain'd,. Nor one reproach againft his Fair-one threw. But e'en in death his Laura was confeft, The laft dear inmate of his beating breaft. XLI. A fervant, on whofe long-try'd zealous care Edward with fteady confidence rely'd, Watch'd by his couch in filent fad delpair,. And vainly ftrove the tricklmg tear to hide : The dying Hero gently prefs'd his hand, Saying, ** Friend, obferve thy mafter's laft command : A <* This A LEGENDARY TALE. 43 XLIL. *' This wounded body foon (liall fink in du-ft, *' My nobler part fliall mount the ftarry road^ Yet one dcpofit to thy hands I truft, " This Heart, of Laura once the blcft abode. Let not the manfion where her image lay, " Be food for worms, or turn to common clay. XLIIL '' When dead and cold, as quickly I fliall be, " Take from my lifelefs corfe that faithful pledge, " Harden'd by fire, from all its foftnefs free, " To powder crufii'd beneath the millftone's wedge ; . " Within this golden urn the powder lay, '* And the fad prefent to her hands convey. XLIV. '' This piaure too, faint tranfcript of her charms, " This fliadow to her Lover did fiie give^ " Her real beauties blefs a rival's arms j " With that reflexion can I wifii to live ? " Death's gloomy terrors in that thought are hid^ " And as a foothing friend he brings me aid. *' Thia 44 EDWARD and LAURA, XLV. '^^ This lov'd companion of my captive years, " Within this farewell letter I enclofe; -** Wrote with my blood, walli'd pallid by my tears, *' Theie to my heart's fole miftrefs I difpofe. " Adieu ! a mandate fummons me on high, '** To meet its Judge, my (jpirit mounts the fky." XLVI. Soon as his ma'fter's obfcquies were paft, With duteous hafte, the faithful foldier went T' obey commands the faddeft and the laft. Yet fuch as to difcharge his mind was bent. Now at the feat which bore De Coucy's name, He begs admittance to the noble Dame. XLVir. The haplefs Bride, to fecret grief a prey, By flow-pac'd fteps, was paffmg to the grave ; The fine machine was falling to decay. And chcck'd the current of the crirafon wave. Now in her bower, with weary thoughts cppreH, O'erpower'd nature links awhile to reft. Meanwhile A LEGENDARY TALE. 45 XLVIIL While her Attendant to the ftranger hies, And begs he'd give the cafket to her care ; *' Soon as my Lady opes, fays fhe, her eyes, *' Your melancholy gift to her I'll bear." PafTmg the hall to where her Lady lay, Du CoucY chanc'd to crofs the maiden's way. XLIX. Aw'd by a mafter's ftrid enquiring voice. Which fternly aik'd her what fhe would conceal, She yielded to neceflity, not choice. And the fad fecret trembling did reveal. Frowning, he faid, " Let this in fdence fleep, ** Why fhould my wife without ceffation weep?" L. Now cank'ring jealouly, revenge and hate. Corroding paflions, flung Du Coucy's breaft, With envious rage he view'd his rival's fate, And e'en in death he deem'd the Hero bleft. ** My wife for me no foftnefs feels," he cries, *' Regret, not love, is painted in her eyes. M <' But 46 EDWARD and LAURA, LI. *' But let me give her Minion to her wl(h, " Entomb'd within her breaft his heart fliall lie \ *' I will myfelf prefent the coftly difli : " For fuch a burial, who would grudge to die ?" Then hiding fell revenge, with tend'reft air He fought the couch where fat the languid Fair. LIL His rage conceal'd with guife of fondeft love, " My Laura, my foul's joy," he foftly figh'd, " The leech's ikill does not the caufe remove, ** Which fades the beauties of my much-lov'd bride. " But fee I a powder from Arabia brought, *' At a high price, for thee thy Lord has bought; LIIL ** This precious balm, of long-try'd fov'reign ufe, ** In this rich cordial here I then infufe ; ** Drink it, my Love, foon mix'd with life's warm juice^ ** Renewing health will through thy veins diffufe. ** Such health as will thofe blooming charms rellore, <* Which taught Du Coucy's bofom to adore." With 47 A L E G E ND AKY T A L E. LIV. With foft complacence, but without reply, Laura receiv'd the cordial from his hand ; With his defires attentive to comply. His willi to her was ever a command. Thus from the cup her Lover's heart (he drain 'd^ With the rich juice her lovely lips were ftain'd.. LV. Malignant joy now fill'd Du Coucy's breaft, With vengeful malice gleaming from his eyes ; " My Laura's now," he cried, " moft furely blefi:, ** Since Heav'n has yielded Edward to her fighs; " That precious balm which does enrich thy veins, " Once form'd the heart which caus'd thy guilty pains.'* lvl The haplefs Lady ftruck with horror flood, Then finking on the couch, flie ihriek'd aloud • When from her eyes burft forth the gufhing flood, And keeneft anguiih did her afpe£t cloud. " It's well, my Lord," /he cry'd, " the balm youVegiv n, " Will bear my guiltlefs fhade to yon bright Heav'n. 4, '' Ju% 48 EDWARD and LAURA, &>€. LVII. *' Juftly you faid It would my health renew ; '^^ No other food ftiall ever nourifh life ; *' Receive my pardon, and my laft adieu, *' No longer fhall I live Du Coucy's wife. *' Soon will the grave that awful tie diffolve, ** My free-born foul from mortal vows abfolve.' LVIII. A few iliort hours determin'd Laura's fate. Her breath in gentle flumbers died awayj Her Lord repented of his rage too late, And ufelefs tears did to her manes pay : Within the cloifter, where her duft was laid, A daily requiem for her foul was pray'd. LIX. May never faithful Love like theirs be croft, May pride of birth be baniili'd from mankind ; Be all diftin6lions, but of merit, loft, And honour featcd only in the mind : For there, and there alone, fhould be the feat. The virtuous only, are the truly great. THE HERMIT O F PRIESTLAN D, A LEGENDARY TALE. n:- ADVERTISEMENT. A HE Author, being on a vifit at a Gentleman's houfe in Hampfhire, very pleafantly fituatcd near the fea, was requefted by the family, of which fhe then made a part, to write a Legendary Tale ; the occafion of which was, that in laying out the pleafure-grounds, the Gentleman found a beautiful fequeftered fpot, which tempted him to build a little romantic Cell, in which he placed a fine venerable figure of a Hermit ; when that was done, he did his gueft the honour of begging the afTiftance of her Mufe. The ftory Is a little ially of the inventive powers, and was at firft meant only to oblige her friends ; but many reafons have influenced her to publifli it. The Hermit Is fuppofed to be indulging that melancholy pleafure which the Unhappy fometimes find In recounting their woes to the Inanimate objects which furround them. The Title of the Hermit Is taken from the name of the eftate. .;•;[ 53 ]; The hermit of PRIESTLAND. *' Her bloom was like the fpiinging flower *« Which fips the filver dew ; y The rofe was budded in her cheek, " And op'ning to the view : " But grief had, like the canker worm, " Confum'd her early prime ; " The rofe grew pale, and left her cheek, " She died before her time." Mallet. I. 1 E fea-beat fliores, which oft my plaints rcfound, Whofe echoes anfwer to your Hermit's lay ; Ye fcenes, which all my earthly profpeds bound. Thou turf, to which i leave my brcathiefs ]^" ci: While 54 The HERMIT of PRIESTLAND, II. While yet Anton it> breathes this vital air, While Heav'n fufpcnds the laft of my defires, This cell, the witnefs of my Cad deipair. Shall hear the lines which haplefs love infpires. III. Year after year, I weep thofe errors paft, Which robb'd the world of Eaima, gentle maid ! Thofe charms, deftroy'd by my unhallow'd blaft. To Death's dark chambers were too foon convey'd. IV. In Emma's lovely features were expreft. All that the painter's fancy e'er portray'd ; With Nature's pureft bloom her cheeks were dreft, And to her form the Graces lent their aid. V. The heavenly blue which beam'd in Emma's eyes, Confirm'd the foftnefs which adorn'd her voice ; Her artiefs foul, a ftranger to difguife. But own'd the virtues Heav'n had made her choice. 4. I faw, A LEGENDARY TALE. 55; VL I faw, I lov'd, I heard, and I admlr'd Her graceful modefty, her fenfe refin'd ; An ardent flame my youthful bofoni fir'd, And love pofTefs'd what reafon had refign'd.. VIL To my pure vows, my Emma lent an ear, A mutual paflion fill'd her tender breaft ; In fofteft accents, mix'd with virgin fear, She own'd her love, fhe made her lover bleft, VIIL Early misfortune drew my infant tears, For foon, alas ! by Heaven's fevere decreCj,. I loft my father j who with anxious fears To a kind brother's care entrufted me. IX. He, mafter of my fortunes and my will, Look'd on me ever with a parent's eye ; Eager I fhould the higheft ftations fill. His wilh was but to fee me great, and die. But S6 The HERMIT of PRIESTLAND, X. But Emma's humble lot Co low was caft, An honeft yeoman gave the virgin birth ; His years, tho' few, in ufeful labour paft, His mortal part was mingled with the earth. XI. One Ion he left, in camps the youth was bred, He fought for glory 'gainft his country's foes -, Mifguided youth, by mad fufpicion led, He plung'd Antonio's foul in hopelefs woes. XII. Soon as my uncle had the fecret found. That Emma's charms had won his nephew's heart j With anger £r'd, he cry'd, *' This fhameful wound, " In my indulgence ne'er lliall gain a part. XIII. *' If thou, fond boy, to thy true intcrefl: blind, <* Can'ft thus defcend a peafant's girl to love; ** If loft to honour, thy ignoble m.ind, <* To fuch a pafTion muft a vi£lira prove : ** Alliance A LEGENDARY TALE. S7 XIV. " Alliance with thee henceforth I difclalm, ** No blood of mine could ever fall fo low -, ** No longer dare to boaft my brother's name, *' Unlefs thy honour does thy lineage fhew." XV. Aw'd by the voice of one fo much rever'd, To whom with filial love I'd ever bow'd ; Whofe anger next to Heav'n's I'd always fcar'd, I hid my flame, my paflion difavow'd. XVL In private interviews I woo'd the maid, By honour guided, woo'd her for my bride ; No (clfiih love that honour e'er betray'd, To injure her who on my faith rely'd. XVII. My Emma liften'd to her lover's prayer, The prieft in holy wedlock join'd our hands ; Oh fhort-liv'd joys! oh lov'd, lamented Fair! How foon did death diffolve thofe facred ties I P Our 58 The HERMIT of PRIESTLAND, XVIII. Our rlg'rous fate no confidante allow'd, Except her mother, witnefs to our love ; The matron's mind with prudence was endow'd, But fondnefs blefs'd what ilie could not approve, XIX. Our meetings all by ftealth, our joys unknown, By future hopes our happy hours beguil'd ; I liv'd for her, fhe liv'd for me alone ; What could I wiHi while Emma on me fmil'd ! XX. But fland'rous tongues their baleful malice fhed, At Emma's fame they fliot their poifbn'd dart; Through all the country the report was fpread, That beauteous Emma play'd the wanton's part. XXI. Thofe cruel tidings reach'd her brother's ears, with rage and pride inflam'd the foldier's breaft ; He loft his fifter's virtues in his fears. And fell revenge his furious foul pofTeft. He A LEGENDARY TALE. 59 xxn. He left the camp all in the dead of night, And to his mother's village bent his way ; No friend entrufted with his frantic flight, To calm his paflions, or his vengeance ftay. xxin. Once with my Emma I had fondly ftay'd, Till Sol's bright beams fhot forth his eaftern ray ; A fudden tremor fhook the lovely maid, When morn approaching fummon'd me away. XXIV. Ill-fated morn 1 decreed, alas ! no more To meet my Emma with the fmiles of joy; No time can e'er the blifsful hours reftore. Which one fhort moment did, alas ! deftroy. XXV. As from the cot with penfive ftep I went, An unknown youth with fury croft my way; With wrathful ire, his eyes on me were bent, ** Thou villain, flop thy courfe !" I heard him fay. 8 Then 6o The HERMIT of PRIESTLAND, XXVI. Then from the flieath he drew the glitt'ring blade ; " Defend thyfelf, unworthy WTetch !" he cry'd^ Then aun'd a ftroke which me in duft had laid, But that my weapon drove his point afide. XXVII. Redoubled rage now flaihing from his eye. With eager fury full on me he preft : Seeing that either he or I muft die, My fatal fword I lodg'd within his breaft. XXVIII. The clafhing nolfe had reach'd my Emma's ear, And with her mother forth fhe wild did run : Ah me ! what founds did then Antonio hear — " Alas, my brother ! ah, my wretched fon 1" XXIX. Stiffen'd with horror, all aghaft I flood, My looks expreflive of my deep deipair ; Firft on the youth, now welt'ring in his blood, Then fix'd on Emma, my unhappy Fair. She A LEGENDARY TALE. 61 XXX. She from her brother's bleeding corfe was torn, And to her mother's cottage fafe convey'd ; Her tender mind by cruel conflifts torn, A fettled fbrrow on her vitals prey'd. XXXL By flow degrees it fapp'd the fprings of life, Pining confumption brought her to her grave ; No healing balfam could preferve my wife, Vain was the medicinal art to fave. XXXIL Soon as my uncle heard the tale of woe, In all my griefs he bore a friendly part ; For mc the fympathifmg tear did flow, For me oft heav'd the figh that rends the heart. XXXIIL Urg'd by his love, while ebbing life remain'd, with him I pafs'd my melancholy hours; But when his foul eternity had gain'd, I fled from men to thefc fequefter'd bowers. Q^ Thofe 62 The hermit of PRIESTLAND. XXXIV. Thofe 1-arge domains, to which my birth held claim,. Which fure for nobler purpofes were giv'n, Than to tranfinit from age to age a name, From Heav'n receiv'd, I dedicate to Heav'n». XXXV. Not to a convent did I give my ftore, Where lazy Monks no active virtue know ; But thofe whofe fuffering merit I deplore, On them with ready hand I ftill beftow. XXXVI. Great Power ! accept my alms, accept my tears, Mercy benign, wafh ev'ry guilt away; When Time's no more, and Nature fmks in years, Receive thy Hermit to eternal day. X HE Author of the foregoing POEMS, having been much importuned by her Friends to give the following melancholy Stanzas to the Public, has been prevailed on to add them to this little Collec- tion, thinking they will not be unacceptable to her Readers* [ 6s 3 WRITTEN on the FATAL EVENT, which happened in Leadenhall Street, January i8, 1782. r. "^"X 7 H E N God's tremendous thunders roll;, ' ^ And rend the earth from pole to polcj^ And bodies rife to join the foul j 11. Then will this beauteous infant train, Whofe fpotlefs minds ne'er knew a ftain. Attend their Saviour's peaceful reign. III. Angelick fmiling, hand in hand, They meet the bieffed Bcth'lem band. Who bled by Herod's ftern command. R Firft [ 66 ] IV. Firft Fruits of Heav'n they (land confeft, No a£lual guile they e'er pofTeft, And SovVcign Mercy docs the reft. V. The hoary finncr doom'd to rife, Viewing thofe faints with envious eyes, As rob'd in light they mount the fkies, VI. Shall wail with tears his haplefs fate. Which gave his years a length'ned date. When now repentance comes too late. VII. He fees the throne with trembling dread, Williing to hide his guilty head, For ever in the grave's dark bed. VIII. Meanwhile the blifsful blooming throng, With pleafing rev'rence march along, Preceded by the Seraph's fong. 6 They [ 67 3 IX. They fing, *' The heav'nly feats prepare; " Behold ! your Lord's peculiar care ** Are come, his promis'd love to fharc." X. Celeftlal harps repeat the found, The golden roofs of Heav'n rebound, And worlds in chorus echo round. xr. May thefe refleiSlions ftill be near, The fad parental breaft to chear. And flop the frequent gufhing tear. XII. Perhaps e'en now, all dazzling fair, Thofc gentle fpirits waft through alf, And fhield their parents from defpair. XIII. May be, their future talk's affign'd. To watch a brother's opening mind, Or guard from ill the tender kind. From [ 68 ] XIV. From *mIclPc the guardian Saints ele£^. Indulgent Heaven may them felctSV, Some unborn fifter to dire£l:. XV. Let weeping friends Indulge the thought, With more than human comfort fraught, And bend before his awful Throne, Who calls thofe Innocents his own. F I N 1 L O U S I A D: A N HEROI-COMIC POEM. C A N T O L By peter PINDAR, Esq. Prima Syracofio, dignata eft ludere Verfu Noftra, nee erubuit Sylvas habitare Thalia; Cum Canerem Reges et Praelia, Cynthius Aurem l/ellit et admonuit— — I, who fo lately in my lyric Lays, Sung to the Praife and Glory of R — A S ; And fweetly tun'd to Love the melting line. With Ovld'i Art, and Sappho's Warmth divine; Said (nobly daring!) « Muse, exalt thy Wings, '* Love, and the Sons of Canvas, quit for K — cs. Apollo, laughing at my Powers of Song, Cry'd, " Peter Pindar, prithee hold thy Tongue.' But I, likePw^i, fclf'fufficicnt grcvjHy Reply'd " Apollo, prithee hold thy cw«." Virgil, THE FOURTH EDITION, WITH CONSIDERABLE ADDITIONS. LONDON: Printed for G. KEARSLEY, at Johnfon's Head, No. 46, Fleet Street; and W. FORSTER, Mufic-feller, No. 348, near Exeter 'Change, in the Strand. Where may be had, all the Auth or's other Pieces.— For a lift, fee the laft page. MjDCCjLXXXVI. P R I C E 1" W O SHI L LINGS. ENTERED AT STATIONERS' HALL. To the R E A D E R. Gentle Reader, XT is neceflary to inform thee, that His M y a6lually dilcovercd, feme time ago, as he fat at table, a Louse on his plate. The emo- tion occafioned by the unexpcded appearance oi Juch a guejl^ can be better Imagined than defcrlbed. An edi6t was, in confequence, pafled for fhaving the Cooks and Scullions, and the unfortunate Loufe condemned to Die. Such is the foundation of the Lousiad. — With what degree of merit the Poem is executed, the uncritical as well as critical Reader will decide. The ingenious Aitthor, who ought to be allowed to V.now fomcwhat of the matter, hath been ht^xd privately to declare, that in his opinion the Batrachomyomachia of Homer, the Secchia Rapita of Taffoni, the Lutrin of Boileau, the Difpenfary of Garth, and the Rape of the Lock of Pope, are not to be compared to it, — and to exclaim at the fame time, with all the modeji ajfiirance of an Author Cedite Scriptores Romani, cedite Graii— Nil ortum in terris, Loujiada, melius. Which, for the fake of the mere Englifla Reader, is thus beautifully tranflated : — Roman and Grecian Authors, great and fmall. The Author of the Lousiad beats you All. ADVERTISEMENT, THE Author takes this opportunity of expreffing his ackn ledgements to Mr. Wigstead for the very humorous exertion of well-known abilltle;, in furniHiing the Plate which accom^paniee Edition. ^ THE O U S I A D. CANTO i: 1 HE LOUSE, I fing, that, from fome head unknown. Yet born and educated near a throne, Dropp'd down, — (fo wlll'd the dread decrees of Fate,) With legs wide fprawling on the M ch's plate: Far from the raptures of a Wife's embrace : Far from the gambols of a tender Race, Wbo^e little feet he taught, with care, to tread Amidft the wide dominions of the head ; Led them to daily food, with fond delight, And taught the tiny trav'lers where to biie ; B To [ 6 ] To hide, to run, advance, or turn their tails, When hoftile combs attack'd, or vengeful nails : Far from thofe pleafing fcenes, ordain'd to roam. Like wife UlyfTes, from his native home ; Yet, like that Sage, tho' forc'd to roam and mourn — • Like him^ alas \ not fated to returii ; Who, full of rags and glory, faw his Boy * And \ Wife again, and Dog | that dy'd for joy. Dovi'n dropp'd the lucklefs LOUSE, with fear appall'd. And wept his wife and children, as he fprawl'd. Thus, on a proi/iOntory's mifty brow. The Poet's eye, with forrow, faw a Cow Take leave abrupt of bullocks, goats, and fheep. By tumbling headlong down the dizzy fleep ; No more to reign a Queen amongft the cattle, And urge her rival beaux, the bulls, to battle ; * Telemachus. •\ Penelope. :J; Argus, for whofe hiftory, fee the Odyfley. She t 7 ] * She fell, rememb'ring ev'ry roaring lover, ~" With all her wild courants in fields of clover. Now on his legs, amidft a thoufand woes, The LOUSE, with judge -like gravity arofe: He wanted not a motive to in treat him, Bejide the horror, that the K*** might eat him — The dread of gafping on the fatal fork, Stuck with a piece of mutton, beef, or pork ; Or drowning 'midft the fauce in difmal dumps. Was full enough to make him flir his flumps. Vain hope ! of flealing unperceiv'd away I He might as well have tarried where he lay. Seen was this LOUSE, as with the Royal brood. Our hungry K*** amus'd himfelf with food ; Which proves (tho' fcarce believ'd by one in ten) That Kings have appetites like common men ; And that, like London Aldermen and Mayor, They feed on more fubflantial fluff than air. '* — — — moricns dulces rcminifcitur Argos. Virg. Paint, [ 8 ] Paint, heav'nly miife, the look, the very look. That of the S n's face, pofleiTion took, When firfl he faw the LOUSE, in folemn flate, Grave as a Spaniard, march acrofs the plate! Yet, could a LOUSE a Britifh King furprize. And, like a pair of faucers, flretch his eyes ? The little tenant of a vwrud Head, Shake the great Ruler of three realms with Dread ? Good Lord ! (as Somebody fublimely fmgs,) What great effeds arife from littk things ! As many a loving fwain and nymph can tell. Who, following Nature's law, have lovd too ivelU Not with more horror, did his eyes behold, Charles Fox, that cunning enemy of old. When Triumph hung upon his plotting brains, And dear Prerogative was jufl in chains : Not with more horror, did his eye-balis work Convulfive on the patriotic Burke, When [ 9 ] When guilty of oeconomy, the cri?ne ! Edmund wide wander'd from the true fuhlime^ And, cat-like, watchful of the flefh and fifh, Cribb'd from the R-y-1 table many a difli — ■ Saw ev'ry flice of bread and butter cut. Each apple told, and number'd ev'ry nut ; Andgaug'd (compos'd upon no fneaking fcale) The Monarch's belly like a cafk of ale j Convlnc'd that, in his fcheme of ftate-falvation. To Jiar-ve^ the Palace, was to fave the Nation : Not more agbaji he look'd, when 'midfh the courfe, He tumb!'"d, in a ftag-chace, from his horfe. Where all his Nobles deem'd their M ch dead. But luckily he pitch'd upon his Head ! * His M y was really reduced fomet ime fince to a moll mortifying dilem- ma : the apples at dinner-time having been, by too great a liberality to the royal children, expended, the K — g ordered a fupply, but was informed that the Board OF Green Cloth would pofitively allow no more. Enraged at the unexpedlcd and unroyal difappointment, he furioufly put his hand in his pocket, took out fixpence, fent a Page for two pennyworth of pippins, and received the change. C Not [ 'o ] Not Venison Eaters at the vanilh'd Fat, With ftomachs wider than a Quaker's hat : Not with more horror Mv. Serjeant Ph'ant Looks down upon an empty-handed client : Not with more horror flares the rural MAID, By hopes, by fortunetellers, dreams, betray 'd. Who fees her ticket a dire blank arife. Too fondly thought the twenty thoufand prize. With which the fimple damfel meant, no doubt. To blefs her faithful fav'rite Colin Clout. Not with more horror, flares each lengthen'd feature, Of fome fine fluttering, mincing Petil-maiire, When of a wanton chimney-fweeping wag. The Beau's white veflment feels the footy bag : Not with more horror^ did the Devil look. When Dunflan by the nofe the daemon took, (As gravely fay our legendary fongs) And led him with a pair of red-hot tongs j Not [ " ] Not Lady Worlley, cliafte as f7ta7iy a nun, Look'd with more horror at Sir Richard's fun. When rals'd on high to view her naked charms. He held the peeping Captain in his arms ; Like David, that mofl amorous little dragon, Ogling fweet Bethflieba without a rag on i Not more the great ^ SAM HOUSE with horror ^ ftar'd, By mob affronted to the very beard ; Whofe impudence (enough to damn a jail) Snatch'd from his waving hand his Fox's tail. And flufF'd it, mid'il his thunders of applaufe. Full in the centre of Sam's gaping jaws. That forcing down his patriotic throat, Of Fox and Freedom llopp'd the glorious note. * In Weftminfter Hall, where th.t fenje (the Author was jufl: about to fay mtt* fenfe) of the people Was to be taken on an eleftion. Not [ '= ] Not with more horror ^ Billy Ramus * flar'd, When Puff "f-, the P — ce's hair-drelTer, appear'd Amidfl their eating room, with dread defign. To fj with Pages, and with Pages diJje ! Not with more horror, Gloster's Duchess ftar'd, When (bleft in Metaphor!) the K*** declar'd, That not of all her mongrel breed, one whelp Should in the royal kennel qv^x yelp : * Billy Ramus — emphatically and conftantly called by His M — y Billy Ramus. One of the Pages who fhavcs the S— — n^ airs his fhirt, reads to him, writes for him, and colledts anecdotes. -f Puff, his R-y-1 H-gh-efs's hair-drefler, who attending him at Windfor, the P — ce, with his ufual good nature, ordered him to dine with the Pages. The pride of the Pages immediately took fire, and a petition was difpatched to the K — and P — ce, to be relieved from the diftrefsful circumftance of dining with a hair-drejfer. The petition was treated with the proper contempt, and the Pages commanded to receive Mr. PufF into their mefs, or quit the table. With unfpeakable mortification Mr. Ramus and his brethren fahuiited ; but, like the poor Gcntoos who have loft their Caji, have not held up their heads /w^ Not [ »3 ] Not more, that man {ofweety fo unprcpardy ThQ gentle Squire of* Leatherhead, vi3.%fcardf When after prayers fo goody and rare a fermon, He found his Front attack'd by Harriet Vernon; Who meant (Thaleflris-like, difdaining fear !) To pour her foot, in thunder on his rear ; Who, in -f God's houfe, without one grain of grace, Spit, HkeavixEN, in his Worship's face. Then ftiook her nails, as Iharp as taylor's ftiears, That itch'd tofcrape acquaintance with his ears: Not Atkinfon ;|; with flronger terror flarted (Somewhat afraid, perchance, of being carted) * Kynafton is the name of the gentleman affailcd by this furious Maid of Honour, for his difapprobation of the lady as an acquaintance for his wife. •f- Verily in the House of the Lord, on the Lord's Day, in the year of our Lord 1785, in the village of Leatherhead, in the county of Surry, did this profane falival affault take place on the phiz of Squire Kynafton, to the difgrace of his family, the wonder of the parfon, the horror of the clerk, and the ftupe- faftion of the congregation. X Mr. Chrillopher Atkinfon's airing on the pillory is fufficiently known to the public. D When [ '4 ] When Juilice, a fly dame, one day thought fit To pay her ferious comphments to Kit, Aik'd him a few ihort queftlons about corn^ And vvhifper'd, fhe believ'd he y^'2is forfwonf. Then hinted that he probably would find. That tho' £he fometimes wink'd, fhe was not blindy Not more Afturias' * Princefs looked affright , At brcakfaft, when her fpoufe, the unpolitCy Hurl'd, madly heedlefs both of time and place, A cup of boihng cofiee in her face ; Becaufe the fair- one eat a butter'd roll. On which th&felfip Prince had fix'd his foul % Not more afiomjh'd look'd that Prince to find His royal father to his face unkind v Who to the caufe of injur'd beauty won^ Seiz d on the proud Probofcis of his fon, * This quarrel betwecB the Prince of Afturias and his Princefs, with the in- terference of the Spaniili Monarch, as defcribed here, is not a poetic fidion, but an abfolute fa An Apron ! that in Monmouth-flreet, high hung, Oft to the Avinds withyw^^^ deport7?ie7it fwung. " Ye fons of Dripping, on your Major look !" (In founds of deep-ton'd thunder cry'd the Cook) ^' By this white Apron, that no more can hope *' To join the piece in Mr. Inkle's ftiop j '* By [ 2' ] " That oft hath held the befl of Palace meat, " And from this forehead, wip'd the briny fweat j *' I fwear, this Head difdains to lofe its locks, " And thofe that do not, tell them they are Blocks. *« Whofe head, my Cooks, fuch vile difgrace endures ? ** Will it be jw/rj, ox yours, ov jours ^ ov j>ours ^ *' Ten thoufand crawlers /« ibat Head l^e hatch' d^ ^' For ever itching, but be n^vti^ /cratch' do. *' Oh ! may the charming perquifite of greafe, " The Mammon of your pocket, ne'er increafe ; — x ** Grease ! that fo frequently hath brought you coin, " From Veal, Pork, Mutton, and the Great Sir Loin, " O brothers of the fpit, be firm as rocks " Lo ! to 7^0 King on earth I yield thefe locks. *' Few are my hairs behind, by age endear'd ! — ** Bntfeiv or 7na?ty, they fhall not be Jheard. *' Sooner fhall Madam Schwellenberg * the jade *' Yield up her fav'rite perquifites of trade, * Miftreis of the Robes to Her Majefly. F *' Give [ " ] " Give up her facrcd Majefly's old Gowns, " Caps, Petticoats, and Aprons, without Frowns : "' She ! who for ever fludies Misciiiei' — She, " Who foon will be as bu fy as a bee, '* To get the liberty of locks eiijlavd^ ** And every harmlefs Cook and Scullion y2>ji;W; — ■ ** She, if by chance a British Servant Maid, ** By fome infinuating tongue betray'd, *' Induc'd the fair forbidden fruit to tafle, *' Growb, (lucklefs) fome what bi£girr in thp. waist; ** Rants, ftorms, fwears, turns the penitent to door, ** Grac'd with the pretty names of B--ch and W , '^ To range a proilitute upon the tow-n, *' Or, if the weeping wretch think better, drown- " But, if a German SpiDErN.-BRusHER /<2;7x, " Whofe IVo/e grows J/jarper, and whofe Shape tells tales ; ** Hujh'd is th' affair ! — the Q3 — , and She, good Dame, " Both club their wits, to hide the growing fhame : ** To w^ed her, get fome fool — I mean fome 'ifi/e man', «* Then dub the prudent Cuckold, an Excifeman : " She! [ 23 ] ** She ! who hath got more infolence and pride, " God mend her heart! than half the world befide : " She ! who, of gutthng fond, fluffs down more meat, ** Heav'n help her ftomach ! than ten men can eat ! ** Ten men 1 aye, more than ten^ the hungry Hag 1 " Why, zounds ! the Woman's Stomach's like a Bag : *' She ! who will fwell the uproar of the houfe, ** And tell the K — g damn'd lies about the LOUSE ; *' When probably that Loufe (a vile old trull !) ** Was born and n5urilh'd in her own grey fcull. •** Sooner the room fhall buxom Nanny * quit^ '*' Where oft ihe charms her mailer with her itvV— ** Tells tales of ev'ry 6oalyy ev'ry thi'dg^ " From honeft courtiers to the thieves who Jwing — '* Waits on her S n while he reads DifpatcheSy *' And wifely to/Wj up State Affairs or Watches: * Buxom Nanny — a female fervant of the Palace, who conjtantly attends the K — g when he reads the difpatches. ** Sooner [ ^4 ] " Sooner the Prince (may Heav'n his income mend I) *' Shall quit his bottle, miftrefs, and his friend- — ** Laugh at tiie drop on Misery's languid eye, *' And hear her fmking voice, without a figh : " Break for the wealth of Realms, his facred word, ** And let the world write Coward on his fword : *' Sooner fliall ham from fowl and turkey part ! *' And Stuffing, leave a calf's or bullock's heart! " Sooner fliall toafted cheefe take leave of muftard 1 *' And from the codirn tart be torn the cuftard : '* Sooner thefe hands the glorious haunch fhall fpoil^, " And all our melted butter turn to oil : ** Sooner our pious K — g, with pious face, *' Sit down to dinner without faying grace"; *' And ev'ry night, falvation pray'rs put forth, *' For Portland, Fox, Burke, Sheridan, and North ; ** Sooner fhall fafhion order frogs and fnails, *' And di(h-clouts flick eternal to our tails. " Let G GE view Ministers with y'/r/y Looks, ** Ahufe 'cni; hick 'em — but revere his Cooks !" *' What, [ 23 ] " What, loofe our locks !" (reply'd the roafting Grew) *' To Barbers yield 'em ? — Damme if we do ! *« Be Jhavd like foreigji Dogs, one daily meets, <' Naked and blue, and fhiv'ring in the flreets ? " And from the Palace be apatnd to range^ '' For fear the world fliould think we had the 7nange ; " By taunting boys made weary of our lives, " Broad-grinning wh — -es, and ridiculing wives !" ** Rouze, Opposition !" (roar'd a tipfy C00K3 With hands a kimbo, and bubonic look) ** 'Tis She alone, our noble curls can keep — ** Without HER, Ministers would fall afleep : "** 'Tis SHE who makes great men — our Foxes, Pitts, ^' And fharpens, whetftone-like, the Nation's Wits : *' Knocks off your knaves and fools, however great, *• And, broom-like, fweeps the Cobwebs of the State : ** Like fulphur In a cafk, expels bad air^ ** And makes, like thunder-claps, foul weather /^/> ; G *' Adts, [ 26 ] '' A(5ls, like a gun, that, fir'd at gather'd foot, '* Preferves the chimney and the houfe to boot : «' Or, like a fchool-boy's Whip, that keeps up Tops s. *' The finking Realm, by Flagellation, props* " Our M h muft not be indulg'd too far ; <« Befides ! I love a little bit of war. *' Whether to crop our curls, he boafts a right, *' Or not, 1 do not care the Loufe's bite — " ViMt i\icni no Force-iiwrk ! No! No Force, hyYitzvnl *« COOKS ! TEOMEN! SCOURERS! we will not be drivn* " Try but to force a Pig againjl his wilU ' ' Behold ! the Jlurdy Gentleman fiands Jiill ! " Or, perhaps (his pow'r, to let the driver know) «« Gallops the very road he Ihould not go — •' No force for me ! the French, the fawning dogs, " E'sn let them lofe \(ivc freedom ^ and eat frogs — *' Damme! I hate each pale foupe-mcagre thief — «' Give me my darling Liberty and Beef." He [ 27 ] He fpoke — and from his jaws a lump he flid. And, fwearing, manful flung to earth the Quid. Yet fwelling PRIDE forbad, his tongue to reft, Whilft wild emotions labour'd in his breaft — Now founds confus'd, his Anger made him utter. And when he thought oiijhavmgt curfes, fputter. Such Is the found (the fimlle's not weak) Form'd by what mortals, * Bubble call, and Squeak, When 'midil the Frying-Pan, in accents favage, The Bee¥ fofurly, quarrels with the Cabbage, *' Be fhav'd," a Scullion loud began to bellow. Loud as a parish bull, or poor Othello, Plac'd by that rogue I ago upon thorns. With all the horrors of a pair of Horns : * The modeft Author of the Lousiad muft do hinifelf the juftice to declare here, that his fimile of the Bubble and Squeak is vaftly more natural and more fuhlime, than Homer's black pudding on a gridiron, illuftrating the motions and ^w

outftdey gold — hh injtdcy rags and hay; ** No more, as God's Vicegerents, would they fliine, " Nor make the world cut throats for Right Divine. *' Thofe Lords of Earth, at dinner, wehavefeen, " Sunk, by the merefl trifles, with the fpleen — *' Oft, for an ill-drefl egg, have htard them groan, " And feen them quarrel for a mutton bone : *' At fait or vinegar, with pallion, fume, *' And kick dogs, chairs, and pages, round the room*. * This is partly a pifture of the hji reign as well as the present. The pafiions of George the Second were of the mofl impetuous kind — his hat and his favourite Minifter, Sir Robert Walpole, were too frequently the foot-balls of his ill-humours — nay, poor Queen Caroline came in for a fhare of his foot benevolence — but he was a Prince of virtues — ubi plura nitent, non ego paucis ofllndar maculis. «' Alas! [ 33 ] «* Alas ! how often have we heard them grunt t ** Whene'er the rufliing rain hath fpoil'd a hunt ! " Their fanguine wiihes crofs'd, their fpirits clogg'd, *' Mere Riding Dishclouts, homeward have they jogg'dj ** Poor imps ! the fport (with all their pride and pow'r) *' Of Nature's diuretic dream — a Show'r ! *' This, we the Actors in the FarcCy perceive i *' But this, the dijiant world will ne'er believe — " Who fancy K — gs to all the Virtues born : ** Ne'er by the vulgar ftorms of Passion torn ; " But, bleft with fouls fo calm ! like Summer feas, «* That fmile to Heav'n, unruffled by a breeze : ** Who think that K — gs on wifdom always fed, ** Spezkje^itences, like Bacon's brazen Head ; ** Hear from their lips the vi/ej^ nonfenfe fall, ** Yet think fome heavenly Spirit dictates a//; *' Conceive their bodies of coeleftial clay, *^ And, tho' all ailment^ /acred from decay ; I « To [ 34 ] ** To nods and fmiles their gapwg homage bring, " And thank their God their eyes have feen a King! <' Lord ! in tlie circle when our Royal Master *' Pours out his words as faft as hail, or fafter,, ** To. Country Squires, and ■z^^/i^^j of Country Squires ;: *' Like Stuck Pigs, flaring, how each Oaf <3;^;/m / " Lo ! ev'ry fyllable becomes a Gem !. *' And if, by chance, the M h coug^, or /Jem, " Seiz'd with the fymptomsof a deep furprize, " Their joints with r^'L;V^w^ tremble, and their eyes *' Roll wonder firfl; then, fhrinking back with fear, " Would ^ide behind the brains, were any there, " How taken is this idleWQ-^i^Y) by Jhow !. " Birth, Riches, are the Baals to whom wx bow j. '' Preferring (ev'n with foul as black as foot) '* A Rogue on horfehack^ to a Saint on foot. \ •* See France, fee Portugal, Sicilia, Spain, j «* And mark the Defert of each Desbot's brain j *♦ Whofe [ 35 ] ** Whofe tongues fhould never treat with taunts, a Fool ;: ** Who prove that nothing is too mean to rule, " What could the Prince, high tow 'ring Hke a fleeple, " Without the Majesty of Us the People ? •* Go, like the * King of Babylon, to grafs, *' Or wander, like a beggar, with a pass !' ** However ;»;;fiil they pluck the fragrant flow'rs. And garlands loi each other twine. They (Ing— they langh the hours away— Their fports— their fongs— their thoughts the fame- Love hovers o'er the beauteous pair And tans the newly kindled flame. While hand in hand they fondly ftray, IF rugged paths their Heps retard, His arms fuftain the lovely maid — A tender kifs his fweet reward. B They ( ^ ) They live but in eacli others fight- More ardent dill their pailiongrew, "While I hey beheld the brighteft charms, Expandhig daily to their view. The youth in manly fports excels— Sklhulcan wield the fword and lance- Attune to harmony the lyre. And win the prize for long and dance. Nor lefs was Adelaide admir'd— Adorn'd with ev'ry female grace— With ev'rj beauty of the mind, That animates the form and face. Nature had blefs'd this matchlefs pair Above the neighb'ring nymplis and fwains. Equal in beai't} — virtue — truth— They flione the pride of Norman plains. But ah ! — A fudden florm arofe. That ruia'd Gallia's regal Hate! King — princes— peers — were doom'd to i^t\ A true], fad reverfe of fate! Louis! ( 3 ) Louis! — before whofe fplendid throne The moft obfequlous fubjeds bow'd, pjow — groan'd within a prifon's walls. No trace of royalty allow'd ! His brothers — who had timely fled— Call'd forth the brave to aid his caufe — And foinc — Alas too few ! — were found True to their King and ancient laws. With ardor fir'd — Brave Antonine A band of loyal Normans led. Eager to join the martial train, Eager the paths of fame to tread. From favnge hands to wrefl: the fvvord. Who Iheath'd the point in beauty's bread. Or — with her holy vot'ries blood, Stain'd pure religion's facred veft.' Trembling — fair Adelaide beheld Her Antonine in arms appear — She ftrove — to check the rifing figh— She flrove— to hide the gufliing tear. He '( 4 ) He too endenvor'd to reprefs The conflicfl in his manly heart- He came, to biu the maid adieu — And feic .... how hard it was to part. Silent lie clafp'd her to his breaft. He kifs'd the pearly drops away, Then — ru[liing*midft the warlike band Made love fubmic to honor's fway, Call'd by the trumpet's marti;il foxind. He daunilcfs fecks the fin o nine fickl Wiih ardent hopes — '.iis unirie^' 1 -^ce Will make imperiotis rtbtls \ ici J. Rous'd from a lethargy of grief. Poor Adelaide half frantic cries, «• Alas my Antoninei<' gone! •* From ME to ev'ry danger flics ! •* Protect: him Heav'n! and give me flrength, ** 1 his fiifl — this poignant pang to bear; " Alas! till now — he faoth'd my woes, *• His kiflls flopt the flowing tear. When ( 5 } ** When—on thy bank?, majeftic Seine, " In dreary folitude 1 dray; " The tears that f�( 11 thy paffing wave *• Swift to my ablent love convey. " And in thy progrefs, fliouldfl thou meet *' A baik, whofe womb contains his foes, " Open thy rimpel'd bolbm wide, " And o'er the treach'rous veflel clofe; ** Ye winds too- bear my ardent fighs *• To wjiere the daring rebels fight ; ** Then— in wild eddies whirl between, «' And waft my lover from their fight, " For ME he form*d that fplendid grot, *' For ME he form'd that fragrant bow'r ; «« O when ! — O fliall I ever there! *• Enjoy with him the blifsful hour! " Ah no! — Ah no! — I fear e*er long •' Thefe eyes fliall fee a lawlefs band «* Diftain with gore thefe beauteous fcenes, ** And defolate our haplefs land." C Dcfpair ( 6 ) Defpair — thus hung a fable cloud O'er all her profpetfl of delight ; Her Antonine was far away. And life's gay fun-fiiine fet in night. Hours— days -and months-crept flow!/ on, Mark'd only by fome fatal deed ; Rapine and murder join their force. And doom the Royalifls to bleed! In heaps the unarm'd vidlims fall. And deluge Gallia with their blood j While ANARCHY defpotic reigns, Exulcing in the crimfon flood. Modefly hides her bluQung head, Humanity dilgufled flies! Strip'd— mangled- by a favage crew, A ROYAL FEMALE * naked lies! Though her pale corfe by furious hands, Expos'd to vulgar gaze was flung; Around her head in triumph borne, A VAJL of beauteous trefles hung, * FTincef* LambalJe, Ol dire ( 7 ) O! dlredifgrace of pollfli'd times! Fierce hell hounds from their caverns burft ? Ne'er fofter'd at a woman's breafl:. Ne'er with maternal fondnefs nurfl. The fiends prcvail'd, loofe o'er the land With fanguinary rage they flew j While Reafon- Manhood -Wifdom- -PowV— Un-nerv*d-~the dreadful havoc view. They feek the Sire of Adelaide ! Himftlf-~his wealth— their deflin'd prey; Already they furround his gate! Within — is terror and difmay I Wife— Daughter— fervants — round him weep, By all belov'd — by all rever'd ; In Ipecchlefs agony he flood, J d tumuli's dreadful clamour heard. They hear the loud refounding blows, Thfy hear the burfting bars give way | Swiftly they feek the winJing grot. And a short time ihtir fate delay. O'er { 8 ) O'er Seine, that wafli'J the fparry edge^ They w iKily gaze, in fad defpair. And far, far off, a vefftl faw, Wiiofe canvas phiions cut the air. A long-boat nearer they behelJ, Hope fillM the breafl of Adelaide! In hafle her fnowy robe (he rent. And wide the waving flag difplay'd; The fignal caught the rowers eyes. Eager they ply the fplafhing oar ; But All ! the favage train appear, Delufive hope can charm no more. Now, round her Sire the duteous maid In agonizing terror clung ; Now, fliriekiiig, o'er the river's brink. In fearlefs atiitude flie hung. The boat-men faw her wild diflrefs. And one, who long impatient ftood ; Now, wav'd Iiisglitt'ringfword on high, And plung'd beneath the foaming floodw Alon, t 9 y Alone, — he flems the adverfe waves ; Alone, — he leaps the pebbly flraad j Half breathlefs ruflies on the foe. And fcatters death on either hand, A wretch had feiz'd on Adelaide! Round his vile hand her trefles twin*d; And aim'd his fabre at her breafl:. Where ev'ry excellence combin'd. Her (creams re-eccho from the grot. The brave youth to her refcue flew, Free'd the fair trembler from her foe. And at her feet the monfter flew. Kis lips to her*s he fondly prefs'd. He calls her with a voice divine ; Her fainting foul returns to blifs, She hears — flie fees — her Antonine ! *' Ofly, my Love! my Father fave! " Make him" flie cries " alone thy care ; " Preferve him from a ruflir.n's fword, •• Preferve my Mother from defpair." D He ( lo ) " He lives — he lives" — the youth replies, ** And not a moment muft be loft ; ** The wind — the tide now both confpire ** To waft us from this dang'rous coaft.** The Sire,' who like a lion fought. Surrounded by his foithful few. Scarce kept the cruel fpoilers off. Till aided by the valiant crew. The fierce banditti rufli on death. Unable to return the fire ; Numbers before the bullets fell. The reft — in fuUen rage retire. 5afe to the boat the gallant youth His Adelaide triumphant bore ; Parents — donieftics — valiant friends Un-wounded quit the hoftile (hore. The grateful Sire enraptur'd cries, ** What guardian angel brought you here, *• My Antonine, my glorious boy, *• To refcue all my foul holds dear. «• O bleft ( " ) " O bleft efcape ! — Thou didftnot know ** The (Iriifl Convenlion's dire command— « ** An emigrant — muft fuffer death, ** Returning to his native land!" ** Too well" — the ardent youth replies— ** Too well I know the (tern decree ! «* But— O, my father, what is life I ** When corn from Adelaide and thee! ** You never with a rigid frown. ** Check'd the pure progrefs of our love j ** You help*d to deck my youthful mind ** With ALL that honor could approve. •* Nor ha? your Antonine difgrac'd " By cowardice his loyal name— ** Bravely himfelf and comrades fought, ** 'Till ficknefs led by famine came. *< They — from our brows the laurels rend, ** Snatch from our nervelefs hands the Ipear; •* The princes — force todiftant climes, *• For refuge fate denies them here. An ( X2 ) ** An Emigrant of noble birth, " Wliofe lil'e the rebel army fought, ** Was once lUrrounded by the foe, *' And long with macchlefs bravery fought. ** Th* unequal combat I beheld, ** I flew the daunclefs youth to fave; " Turn'd the alladia's fpear allde, •* And fnatch'd a HERO from the grave! " His friends like mine to England fled, " When firft the Gallic woes began, •• E'er maflacres the nation ftain'd, •* Difgraceful to the foul of man* ** We to that land of refuge fail'd, *• His parents with extatic joy *• Once more behold their only child, " And clalp by turns the darling boy! " The Sire — whofegen'rous foul o'erHows, •* Bids Fortune * reccmpencc my deed; »' She — knowing well the vorth I av'J, '* Gives — what my flatt'iing hopes exceed. •' Gives — from her wheel the higheft prize — " I take it with a grateful hear', *• For now — my Life — my Adelaide — *' We never — never more will part. He prefented the Prefervcr cf his Son, a lottery ticket, invoking Fortune to give it fuccefs. Ah! ( 13 / « All! what, my charmer — what is wealth? «* Unlefs You deign that wealth to (hare;; «* And let me to Britannia's ifle •' My richeft — deareft treafure bear. •* There — Liberty's expanding tree * Its lofty head majeftic rears— ** There — rooted in its native Ibil, ** A vernal bloom for ever wears! ** Luxuriant plenty round it fmiles, «* There — Ceres plants her golden ft ore; ** Full crops reward the reaper's toil, " Who — BLEST WITH PLENTY ASK NO MORE; *' Pure health and peace adorn his cot, ** He ENVIES not the rich and great; " Enjoys tha truest rights of man, •* Contntment in his humble state. ** There — the lov'd monarch reigns fecure, ** No factions fill his foul with dread; ** A Seven-fold fliield of valiant Sons ** From dangers guard his facred head. ** And NOW — the exil'd fons of France, •* Attach'd by Gratitude alone, '* With firm fraternal love fliall form •♦ A glorious phalanx round his throne. I9 ( H J ** In Britain— they protedion found, •* When worn with toil— with fear opprefs'd, ** Benevolence, with lib'ral mind, " Their forrows footh'd their wants redrefs'd. *' There — true religion's temple (lands, " At VARIOUS altars millions bend; ** O'er ALL — her heav'nly radiance beams, «• 0*er ALL — her foft'ring arms extend,*' He ceas*d for now withrefted oars The boat long-fide the vefTel drew; The Emigrants with loud huzzas, Were welcom'd by the hearty crew. Rapid they fail from Gallia's coaft. Still to their hearts is Gallia dear; Sighing, they take a long farewell. Perhaps a lafl: — and drop a tear. They reach Old England's hoary rocks ; Joy Peace and Plenty fmile once more ; Grateful they fee their fuff'rings paft. And blefs the holpitable fliore. '/I A N E p I s T L E to a L A D Y, £f r. OU fay, that fpite of all your zcai and art, You hnd no ent'ranc\; to his lar.puid o heart : So founded on opinion's rock he flands, So fenc'd with mighty reafoning's hundred hands : And made by bleft MoraHty fo fure, 5 He deems it needlefs quite to be more pure j Nor thinks a Saviour's blood a gift fo great, Since Heaven is purchas'd at an eafy rate : And that good, honeft, upright Man's de;na?idy Who breaks no laws, and gives no vice his hand. 10, What fliall I do — or how this Reafoner quell, Tell me you cry — my kind inftrudor, tell ? B Mv ( 2) My kind hiJlruSior — Let me glory there. And own my tranrport in a name fo dear : That appellation makes me truly bleft, lo And pours full comfort thro' my languid bread: A breaft too cold, too faint, for love divine, And all unworthy, Saviour, to be thine : Yet for her fake confeffing that from me She gain'd the knowledge of thy truth and thee : 20 Oh fure the inftrument thou'lt not deilroy. But fave from wrath and welcome into joy ! 'Tis fure, from mortals no relief can rife To men thus righteous, thus felf-wilFd and wife: 'Tis vain, each gofpel-med'cine to apply : 25 All Grace they fcorn, or view v/ith jaundic'd eye: To poifon turn fubmiffion of the will, Swell with falfe glory, and are reafoncrs ftill ! Willi fubtle logic fill the arguing head, Vv'hile the foul faints, and while the heart is dead ' 30 For no Religion can avail mankind. How nice foe'er diftinguifh'd or defiii'd : No modes of things, no metaphyfic art, None but the pure devotion of the heart : There (3 ) There God mufl: reign, our whole intentions fill, 35 Our Love his Service ^ and our Ru/e his /F/7/. But whence fuch fervency of foul can rife. Puzzles indeed the learned and the wife, Tho' Bades in C/jriJI *, and infants yet in grace^ With mighty eafe the myftery can trace ; 4.0 Telling aloud that Chrijl alone can give •f Life to the dead, and linners pow'r to live j That Chrijl alone can purge the human heart, And the pure flame of love divine impart ! Paint to your moralift this fuffering God, 45 Beneath the crown of thorns and fcourging rod ; Paint him extended on the fatal tree, — And tell him, " Sinner, this was borne for thee." Then to himfelf his finful felf difplay. His life imperfed in each work and way, 50 His fins demanding ranfom to be paid. And Juftice hovering o'er his guilty head ; * Our Saviour fitvs, " I thank thee, O Father, Lord of Heaven and Earth, becrufc " thou haft hid thefc Things from the IVije and Prudent, and haft revealed them un- " to Bales. ''Matt. xi. 25. St. Paul, <■<■ As unto Babes in Chrift." i Cor. iii. i. St. Pe- ter, « As new-born Bahes defire the fincere Milk of the Word, t^rV." i Pet, ij. 2. i Awake thou that fleepeft, and ar'ije from the Dead, and Chrijl (hall give thee Light, Ephef. V. 14, B 2 Tell (4 ) Tell him that blood, blood only can atone, — And make him fear and tremble for his own. Oh canyon raife him to fo bleft a fear, 55: The work is finifli'd and ialvation near ; — Then to the Crofs dire6l his longing view ; Peace will return, and comfort will enfue ; His dread of Sin will foon be done away, His fear of death will inftantly decay j 60 And his heart burning with true love divine, How will he pant, Redeemer, to be thine ! Faith then and Hope will all his foul employ,. And Jefus reign his everlafling Joy ! But where, alas, too rapid am I borne ? 65 'Tis not fo fpeedy Prodigals return ; Want mud pinch home, and dearth indeed furround. Before their fad neceflities are found ; Before themfelves they fee, themfelves they know. And to their Father in contrition go ; 70;^ In deep humility their fins declare. And find — Oh Mercy ! full Forgivenefs near ! My ( 5 ) My Ton, my fon, the gladden'd father cries, And to the lov'd returning Unner flies ! Ohj if thy heart, not frozen into ftone, 75 Hath ought, my Brother, of affedion known, Such wondrous Grace, fuch mighty Love furvey. And in retiu-n thy heart's oblation pay ; So kind a Father, and a God fo kind. Claim the warm tribute of the warmeft mind ; 80 Oh feize his Grace, and to his Mercy fly, And angels harps fhall tell it thro' the fky ; For joys thro' thofe celeflial regions found, When one returning Prodigal is found : Joy reigns amidft the bleft! — and ah below, 8^ Wou'd God — was found fuch love and gladncfs too ! But we, to earthly wifdom only wife. The love of fouls, or know not, or defpife : With one confent, the mad Enthufiajls blame, And mock the pious with opprobrious fhame, 90 Who burn with earneft zeal and warm deflre To fnatch from death, and refcue from the fire ! And ( o " And are there fuch, thrice-bleft Nkanor cries ? Tis very flrange, from whence their zeal {hould rife : Madmenno doubt, who, wand'ring from the way, 95 Cry out Confufion, and lead all aftray ! With me thefe fettled principles prevail, And the world's ftubble — if fuch maxims fail ! I do no III — I follow -^hs^feems right : Walk not by myftic rule, but certain fight: Th.t facial duties well difcharge : And fee No creature injur'd or aggriev'd by me. Of innocent enjoyments freely fhare ; And every Morn and Eve repeat a Prayer. Thus doing who fliall fay, I'm not fecure ? Condemn ye proud ones, and convince ye pure 100 05 And wou'd Nicanor then his fervants praife, Blefs with rewards, and high in honours raife, Becaufe his Goods they never had purloin'd, But done the very duties he enjoin'd ? no Ver. ICO IValk'^ Not fo the great Apoftlc : "Forwewrt/.t-bv Faith, (?iy% he, not by Sight." 2 Cor. V. 7. (This ( 7 ) (This old example chance his tafte may hit, 'Tis Claffic and Nicatior f loves a wit — ) And Horace tells us, fuch a fervant gains, Not to be haiig d or beateti for his pains : So who the paths of duty have purfaed, 115 Can certain merit no reivard from God ! See, fcorner, then thy expectation here, Grant thy pretended honefty {incere ; Grant thy morality its utmofi: due. Here, here, alas thy whole dependance view ! 120 But come, be open, and declare thy foul, Own Pharifaic pride pollutes the whole • Own, fpite of all this fairly-adted part, Deceit and fin poffefs thy poifon'd heart '- For know — whate'erto morals you pretend ; 125 Who fcorns a Saviour, can't be Virtue's friend! f Nee furtum feci, neque fugi, fi mihi dicit Servus, habes pretium ; Loris non uteris, aio, Non homlnem occidi ; Non pafces in cruce Corvos, ^c. See Hor. Epijl. i6. Lib. i. Ver. 45. Suppofe a flave fhould fay I never fteal : I never ran away ; " nor do you fed The flagrant La(h :" No human blood I flied, *' Nor on the Crofs, the rav'ning Crows have fed," — ^c. Francis. Or (8 ) Or if linccre upon yourfclf you ftand, And think Heaven's joys your Ments juft demand -. \i oithis Saviour you no need can iind. But deem him wholly ufclefs to mankind : 130 Come then at once your iirm allent declare, And fign and feal your ylbjuj-atmi here: Set to your feal at once your Heai^i and IVame^ And write, "All title I to Chriji difclaini: At once his whole Redemption I abjure, 135 Defire no fervice and expedi no cure." Ah wherefore dofi: thou llart — why thus grow pale ? — See thy hand trembles — and thy fpirits fail : Behold and wonder, proud of heart behold, (Nor be it, fcorners, 'midft your fcornings told!) 140 Something behold, in this mock'd Saviour's Name, To fliock a moralift's whole haughty frame 1 No more to outward honefty pretend, Confefs the truth and all difputing end, — Own (for this fhews it, as the day-light clear) 145 You hate not Chriji, — but his religion fear : Fond of thofe fins his precepts difapprove, You mock thefe precepts, w^iile the fins you love : 'Tis (9^ 'Tis not the teacher, man, you fet at nought, But 'tis that conquefl ofyoiirfelf, ^e taught^ i6o To Death-beds go : — See, upright finner, there. This frightful truth in all its guilt appear ! View your lov'd Clodio^ late in reafon flrong, Clodio the gay, the witty, wife, and young '• Proud of each blefling every power can give, 165 Of every good that makes it joy to live ; — Behold him ftrugghng with defpair and death. And venting curfes with his gafping breath : Hear him, O hear him, — wifliing to expire In Hell's dark horrors and eternal fire : 170 " Confume my foul, to aflies, allies turn, " Burn me avenging God, to nothing burn : " No Mercy do I hope, or can requeft, " I feel, I feel, all Hell within my breaft : Ver. 163, View your lov'd Clodio, fyV.] The reader is defir'd particularly to ob- ferve and remember, that as this whole Poem is founded upon the fxadeft truth, fo there is no part or charader in it, which is not real : this of Clo "lo is ftriiily true, and therefore I hope it will make the greater impreffion on the confi derate Reader : the following account of Urania is equally real ; her death and long i'Jnefs I was myfelf a witnefs of, and am bound to declare, th?t any defcription comes fhort of her heroic patience and meek refignation. 4nd. ( 10 ) " And yet — Heaven's tyrant — cou'd I yet be free— *' Were there another, — but to fly from thee ! *' Oh impotence of thought — then hither dart " Thy hotteft bolt, confume this raging heart : <' To nothing grind this frame with bittereft pain, " And torture from exiflence every grain ! i8o " Oh that I cou'd, I cou d repent, — or fee *' One ray of Hope, RedeeiJier^ glance from thee : ** Redeemer-- — thought acurft ! for what relief " Can come from that which aggravates my grief ? *' He once was mine — his power and comforts known, •' J knew him always, but I niooud not ow7i : ** Curs'd be the day — for ever curs'd the hour, " I gave my foul to fin and reafon's power : ** Curs'd be the day, ye fons of fliame, I heard " Your cold difcufTions and each arguing Word ; 190 " Your nicer reafonings, metaphylics boaft — " Curs'd be the day, I liften'd and was lofl ! " Oh fhame to think, with what profound deceit, ** My head defin'd, my heart conceal'd the cheat: " Oh ( " ) " oil vile opprobrious guilt, that while I view'd 195 " The price and bleflings of a bleeding God '• " All this, led on by folly, fin, and fhame, " My foul cou'd forfeit, and my heart difclaim: " And fcreen'd beneath dark Reafons banners fight ; *' Contemn a Gofpel, tho' convinc'd'twas right j ** And vile Morality's poor garb pretend, 200 ^ Virtues fuppos'd, but Vices real friend \ " Apoflates come, — ye Infidels, draw nigh, " Come learn from me, and fee a Brother die ! ** Ye who, Apoflates, Grace receiv'd abufe, 205 " Ye, who Grace offer'd. Infidels, refufe ! " Come fee your happy Brother yield his breath j '' And doubt no more of horrors after death : " For hear and tremble — they precede our fate : " Hercy here, I feel all Hell's impending weiglit. " Already 'midft devouring flames I dwell ; 210 «"' Within, without — And is there then no Hell ? " Devils avaunt — nor whips nor flames provide y '* I fcorn your tortures, and your fires deride - C 3 '' Worit^ (12) " Worfe, worfe than all, are here ! Oh Hell and Heav'n, " That to my woes fome refpite might be given, 215 " Refpite ! — can mercy, agonizing thought — " From an Almighty torturer be bought ! ** From him who joys to hear a fufferer groan ? " No here I hurl defiance at his throne; — 220 *' Curs'd be — " But flop, our fouls nor let us wrong With the unheard blafphemings of his tongue - In vollies, hot, loud, dread, and horrid fir'd. They thunder'd forth ; and he amidft their flames ex- pir'd. So perifh thofe, a Saviour who defy, 225 His gofpel fcorn, and all its power deny. But fome may urge, — not all do thus depart, Hell's kingdom here thus gaming from the heart: True — and as fuch, we judge th'examples giv'n For our inflrudion from the king of Heav'n : 230 For us to learn, and fly th'impending load. That threats the fcorner of a Saviour's blood : Some ( 13) Some, robb'd of fenfe, delirious yield their breath ; Some fullen and impatient plunge to death ; Some fearful of the ftroke, rely on art, 235 And, buoy'd with idle hopes of life, depart. Others cut {hort do in a moment fall. And inftantaneous darknefs covers all : Some, wearied with corporeal tortures, find No refpite to relieve their wounded ?ni7id : 240 But none — alas — that heavenly peace attends, Which Chrijl bequeath'd to all his dying friends : Which every Chriftian on his death-bed proves. Who firm believes, and ftill more firmly loves : None with hopes ftrong aflurance can refign, 245 But they, whofe faith, Urania\ ftrong like thine. How great the joy to fee her ftill maintain Thro' a long interval of bittereft pain, Calmnefs of mind, compofure rarely fhewa. And patience, not difhonour'd with a groan ! 250 " For can I groan, can I, my God, complain ? *' Thine, thine indeed, was agonizing pain - « And (H) " And that, for me thy Mercy only bore ! '' Oh then, kind Father, Oh correal me more ; *' With refignation thy good-will I meet, 2.55: " Confefs thy love, and own thy kindnefs great!" Such were her words, — and tho' her ills encreas'd She wou'd not vent a wi£h to be releas'd : But all receiving with a thankful foul To his good pleafure fhe refign'd the whole : 260^ Convinc'd to him her profit beft was known, Her voice was always — " Lord thy Will be done !'*" Thus long fhe languifh'd 1 and around her bed Peace conftant dwelt, and hope her comforts flied :. Her growing weaknefs built her Faith more high ;. On eagles wings that mounted to the fky 1: Her fainting body made her foul more ftrong ;■ So that in torture fongs of praife fhe fung : And fcorning mifery, fill'd with love divine, Her peace proclaiming, Saviour, own'd it thine 1 270 " To him, to him, I Jieard her foul declare, In Fleaven be praife, be all the {^lory here : He from this heart has every fear remov'd. My faith confirm'd, accepted, and approv'd , In (15) In certain Hope, from this poor world I fly, 275 In full aflurance, Oh my friends I die ! Weep not for me, — in yon celeftial plain Grant, we may all, my God, together reign : Oh grant us there to meet ! and know^ 'tis given. Who follow Chriji on Earth, foretafte of Heav'n. 280 Farewel, farewel, — before you I but go A little Ipace, and foon muft all purfue : Soon from this vale of death muft all remove; Oh think — be bleft — and love your Saviour, love." Thus, as ihe fpoke, fhe flept without a figh, 285 And hovering angels bore her to the fky. Thrice happy change, what foul but longs to find Such fweet, fuch bleft ferenity of mind ? Oh grant. Redeemer, in that gloomy hour My foul may thus perceive thy healing power ; 290 Thus feel the joys, thy blood procures for all ; Die in full hope, in firm aflurance fall ; Meet death with peace difarm'd of every fting. In love rejoice, and big with glory fing, Anticipating Heaven ! — And thus 'twM be 295 Saviour, with all, who truft alone in thee '• SucI ( i6 ) Such peace, fuch joy, each death-bed fhall furroundj Where C/jri/I is honour'd, and true Faith is found ! I know thy heart ; Oh fpeak, and be at reft, Like her's, JVkanor, wou'd thy end be bleft j 30O- Like hers thy foul wou'd land on life's firm fhore ! Oh then, like her, above vain morals foar ! To that grand i?ioraUJl exulting fly. Who died for thee and lives no more to die. To him, vvhofe fufferings for his faints prepar'd, 305 A crown of glory, and 2ifun reward. " Mere methodiftical delufion all I Cieor^z cries, the votary of Vaux-Hall ; Who deep in pleafure, and quite mad in drefs. Hates all that tends to make her love them lefs : Whole prefence at the Play-houfe never fails, 320 And who can tell fuch fweet diverting tales Of Gar rick, Frit chard., Bella7ny, and Clive, As furely mcfl: amufe each foul alive ?. Who knows each fafhion and each tafce to hit, 31 And who bcfidcs all this, is called a PFit. 5 " Mere ( 17) <* Mere madnefs, quoth the Lady, at fuch ftuff, No mortal furely e'er can laugh enough J Laft Stmday, by mere chance or fancy driven, I went to Church — as meajimg^ Ma am^ for Heaven ! But there I heard a ftory fo divine — {Lord, I coud gladly criticife each line !) Of Grace and goodnefs fitting us for God : Making our hearts the Spirits pure abode : Of driving out each wicked thought and vain^ 325 And fuffering nought but Holinefs to reign : And then — behold — our fmooth-fac'd parfon fpoke, As if forfooth all Pleafure were a joke ! All public places^ dangerous bafe and wrong, Drefs YQvy JJjocki7tg both in old and young 330 (In old ril grant — ) and that we all, in fine, Shou'd fludy, firs, to be throughout divine: That fo the Saviour might poffefs the foul. And pure religion, mortals, have you whole ! Now who from fmiles, this hearing, could refrain ? 3 3 5 For who a ftate like this can e'er attain ? Saints may be good, but finners we fhall be In fome low fort, till death fhall fee us free : D And ( i8 ) And then, no doubt, be borne to that abode Where pleafures reign — for God's immenjely good!" 340 But oh remember, undeferving duft Poor TVorin^ remember, he's iinmenfely juft : So ftridlly juft, that for thy fmful fake His fon alone a ranfom he wou'd take : His o}ily Son — his beji-bdovd alone 345 For thee cou'd merit, or for thee atone ! Look up to him- — Oil look and then conceive. If thou can'fl: afk, or if he can forgive. When all thy life and all thy deeds have fliewn Defpight contemptuous to this fullering Son ? 350 When far from labouring to purge thy foul. Thy Will to rule, thy Paflions to controul. When far from ftruggling, {inner, to be freed. From death, deferv'd, depending, and decreed : — Not one, one thought to God thou e'er haft giv'n, 2S5 Nor look, fond longing, to thy native Heav'n ! But plung'd, but headlong plung'd thro' every fcene Where vice and folly hold their lawkfs reign : And on the waves of death triumphant rode, To ( 19 ) To Hell's dark empire — mad — from hope and God : See — from beneath the gulf its flames difplay, Stop, — think — ; thy foul oh {inner bids thee ftay ! Who but muft tremble at fo dread a view, Who but muft afk, " What fliall I, fliall I do ? What fhall I do, all-gracious Saviour tell, 365 Thy favour to regain and fly from Hell ; What fliall I do — thou God of life, declare ? Oh fpare me, fpare me, mercy's fovereign fpare." Hail holy dread, hail agonizing fears. Hail bitter flghs, and heart- afledling tears ! 370 Soon, fcon to other founds your grief fliall turn. Soon, foon with o^/jer fears your heart fhall burn • Soon fhall fuch forrow, fuch delight attend. As ne'er fhall alter, and as ne'er fhall end : Soon fliall fuch tears be wip'd from every eye, 375 That bright fhall fparkle with immortal joy : D 2 With ( 20 ) With holy hope, firm faith, and love divine, And peace, that Peace^ he call'd fo juftly Mifje, Who dying, left it Chrijiian^ to be thine I And great the force of virtue needs muft prove 380 That all, who once have known her, ever love • But vice difgufts her votaries, and they fly Her naufeate pleafiires and defl:ru6live joy : Own in her cup, the bitter potion found, And one continu'd forrow in the round : 385 But tafting virtue and the peace fhe brings^ Scorn vice and folly and all meaner things : And from her courts wou'd never never fly : f With her they wifh to live, with her they wifli to die f But ftill Clear a^ ferious grown and grave, 390 Prick'd to the heart, unable to conceive Ver. 378 And peace, &c.J Peace I leave with you, faid our Saviour, mypeace\g�& unto you ; no;; as the world giveth, give I unto you. St. "John xiv. 27. Ver. 3S0 AncU &c.J This reflection was made long ago by Si/nplicius in hiscom- aaent upon EpUlaus. His words begin thus : Ori n^wifa Jox« » o-wppco-wi), &c. " That the ways of virtue are more pleafant to the good man, than the ways of fin and licen- tioufncls are to an evil and vicious man (and therefore more amiable and better in thenifslvcs) appears, by thip, that feveral men wlio have tafted the pleafures of fin forfakc it, and come over to Virtue : but there is fcarce aninftance to be found of the man, tliat haJ well experienced the delights of Virtue, that ever cou'd be drawn off from it, or fin.l in his heart to fall buck to his former Courfes." \Tecumvivsre amem, tecum ol earn libem, HoR. ( 21) A joy fhe never felt, fne never knew, Doubts of the fad, and queftions, if 't be true ; Fancy's this holy hope, this boafted peace, " This fober certainty of waking blifs,'' 395 A dream, a vapour, iffuing from the brain, Rare known in fad:, and but in fancy feen : And how the truth more ftrongly fhall we fhew ? How fuller prove it than, my friend, by you ? Than by referring to your works and ways, 400 The living teachers of the truths we praife ? Come then. Clear a y fatiate votary come, From the vile riot of the rout and drum; From plays, and balls, and noify non-fenfe fly. And turn to yonder fcene your caim.er eye ! 405 View there in modefi meeknefs, virtue drefl; r View there religion in a female breafl: : tee piety without all fhew lincere. See hoiinefs exad, but not auftere ! See pure devotion in a flame afcend, 410 Zeal its fupport and knowledge tlill its friend : From ( 22 ) From the cold worldlings bafe lukewarmnefs far, As from the mad Enthufiafts frantic ftare ! But view and wonder, to compleat the whole, How love divine poflefles all her foul ; 415 Love founded only, whence it ne'er can fall On thy firft Love, Redeemer, for us all ! Oh ! how it chears my foul, fuch love to find, A heart fo nobly warm to all mankind, Slave to no fed, and to no party tied, 420 By zeal mif-term'd, and mean unholy pride j Nor damning all becaufe tliey difagree. In fome punctilios, with my Faith and me. But as confidering, Chriji for all has bled, Efteeming all, as members of that head : 425 As hoping all may from his grace receive, So praying all may on his name believet As nothing doubting in each fed: to find, Some firm in hope and of an upright mind, Ver. 417 0;j, &c.] Herein is love: not ihat we loved God: but that He loved ui : and f nt his Son to be the propitiation for our fins. Beloved, if God fo loved us, we ought alfo to !uve one another, i St. John iv. lo. Here is the true foundation of all religious, myrai, ami facial Duties. Let us not look for them any where elfe : but leave tlie mor«lifts to their cold and vain morality ! So ( 23 ) So holding all in love and pure efteem, 430 What e'er their title, or whate'er their name ! And know, Chora y that her heart and tongue Difdain alike to do a neighbour wrong : No peevi£h fatire on her lips is found. No envy blackens, and no cenfures wound : 43 c Soft words of kindnefs iffue when fhe fpeaks,. And love alone her filence fweetly breaks, Swift to excufe and ready to commend, Vice all her foe, and all befide her friend I Nor ends her kindnefs and compafTion here, 440 Her love's more adive and her zeal iincere : By real works -{- her living faith fhe proves. Nor fays alone, but Jhews you that fhe loves. No wretch un- aided from her fight departs, No fulTerer in her reach unpitied fmarts 1 445 Woe in each fhape, has but itfelf to plead, And wants no other title to her aid t + Her living, &c.] As the body without the fpirit is dead ; (o Faith without TForL. is deadi\(o. St. James ii. 26. This (hews the propriety of the diflindtion, wh.ch our ancient divines have made, of a dead, and a living Faith. To To God ftie gives, and with a fingle eye, Sows rich in love, and rich fhall reap in Joy. Here then, Clear a^ here dire With all their colours flying, while the king 285 Of glory, the dread Lord of hofts, the fan Eternal fhall come in, with all his train. And enter that bleft city ! * whofe vaft Ipace 'Twou'd weary Time to meafure ; whofe high walls Glitter with living jafper ; and whofe ftreets 290 * See ReveU xxi. 22. Are [ '3 ] Are of fine gold, pure as tranfparent glafs: At vvhofe twelve gates twelve mighty angels ftand, Fair as the morn, and glorious as the fun: Forth from the throne of God, and of the Lamb, A river, clear as ci-yftal, iffues forth, 295 The water of life : and gladdens with its dreams The new Jerusalem: while its fair banks That tree of life, angelic food, produce, That erft in Ede?i grew, or ere frail man Tafted another fruit, which work'd his woe. ^oo Here God hath fix'd his feat, here ever dwells In glory as in bleffednefs fupreme, His fervants worihip to receive, and glad With everlafting joy, that from him flows In richeft fulnefs : here behoves no temple : God is the Temple: here no fun: for here The Light of God., and of the glorious Lamb For ever fhines: one undiminifli'd day Without created light, reigns beauteous : love Enlivens and illumines all with light, 310 Life-giving and divine. — Such is the place Ordain'd, of boundlefs mercy, the abode Eternal of bleft fouls : here Ihall they live Imparadis'd in joy, in endlefs joy, Whofe names are found recorded in the book o j r Of life, whofe foreheads with the lamb's red feal 3 Are [ '4 ] Are mark'd : and who with him approv'd, return From judgment all vidorious ! Thefe alone — (For nought defiUng, fin, nor finners here, Shall ever enter,) thefe alone fhall reign With God for ever ; and the blifs enjoy 320 Of his near prefence, and the vifion call'd By mortals, beatific ; to exprefs What faints in glory fhare; men by dim faith Scarce apprehend : hope leads to nearer viev/s. And love will then confummate: when with faints 325 Join'd in fweet union, we fhall all accord In one high ftrain of praife : when we (hall live. In amity divine, with all the friends Of our high Lord, whom facred writ records, And long hath to our befl: affedlions won ! — 330' And there — oh pleafing recoUedlion — there Our deareft friends, by death relentlefs torn From our embraces, joyful fhall we meet. Immortal meet, to part no more ! — The hope. Oh ye beloved Authors of my birth, 335 Ye befi of Parents^ who, 'midft torments fierce And cruel anguifh, in my arms expir'd ; The mournful office, while my trembling hands Of clofing your dear eyes perform'd — that hope, That balmy hope fooths my fad foul, and dries 34O The [ 15 ] The filent tear, that frequent from my eye Drops mournful on remembrance of your love : That love, vt^hich o'er me from the cradle watcli'd To manhood's dawn: foUicitous and fond: — Ah, u^ho but parents ought can paint the pangs 345 Heart-felt, that in the anxious parent's breaft Throb for its darling offspring? Thence be taught Duteous regard, ye children, and return Grateful the tender love! — But earthly love How poor, how fhorti in thofe celefdal realms 250 Nor end, nor mixture fhall be known. Alas, How unfupportable the load of woe, Without fair immortality's bright hope! How light all earthly fufferings, when the foul Difdains the grave, and carries its bold eye, 355 Dire6led by ftrong faith into the realms Of light and love eternal ? — There, oh there. Grant us, thou God benign. Lover of Souls, By the red blood, that from thy facred wounds Flow'd liberal for man : oh grant us there 36a To meet in blifs, and my tranfported foul Then fiiUy, thrice bleft Parents, shall exprefs The debt of love I owe: which grateful thus I ftrive to fpeak in melancholy fong Befitting lowly mortal: Earneft fmall 2 65 Of future offerings, when on golden harps Together [ '(> ] Together we fliall chaiint immortal fongs, Immortal made ; and ravilli'd with the joy, Fulnefs of joy, and pleafures evermore At the right hand of God! — 37© Pardon, dread Lord, If ought too much prefumptuous, or too high In hope, — thee I offend! Thy facred word And promifes divine forbid to Faith The glimmering of doubt. Yet v/hen I view «-- Myfelf unworthy and offending ftill Thy goodnefs infinite, methinks 'tis bold At all to hope, — But not on M E depends Acceptance final : Thou wilt not refufe The lowly foul that builds on Jesu's Lovt ! — ogQ Smit by that hallo vv'd love, my mufe, ere while To mortal pafiions dedicate, forefwore Th' adulterous fervice, and itfelf refign'd To thee its rightful Lord ! Oh that my ftrains, How weak foe'er, might to thy praife redound, ^g- And join in univerfal nature's choir. To hymn thee general Lord ! — Warm'd with that wifli, Tho' faintly, thus I ftrive to lifp low thoughts, Low are the highefi; mortal tongues exprefs. When everlafting love becomes their theme ; 3 90 And fuch is mine ; thine everlafting love Bright C ^7 ] Bright {Lining on that great Epiphany, When, all thy mighty majefty difplay'd, We lliall behold — behold Thee, as thou art; And, at the Vifion glorioufly transform'd, 295 Be made who can conceive the Greatnefs ? — made Uk^THEE! Were it not ftrange, Maria ^ then to dread A day fo fraught with bleflings, fo replete With good to man ? to dread a change that brings 400 Immortal glory ? — Dreads the Mariner, Who, toft long time upon the ocean wild, Sails many a weary league from the dry coaft Of Malabar or Beiigala^ waging long Unequal war with tempefts, rocks, and waves, 405 That well nigh have their way thro' the leak'd hull Of his fhock'd vefTel made — dreads he the port Friendly that brings him to his native foil, To the lov'd bofom of his faithful wife. And dear carefTes of his infant race, 41,0 Climbing with fondling joy his happy knees, And lifping their pleased ftories : his big heart Swells with exftatic rapture : while a tear Of filent joy unbidden fteals adown His fun-burnt cheeks. — Or didft thou dread that day, 415 Say, my Maria ^ which return' d me, long D Long [ '8 ] Long abfent, long expeded to thy arms And bridal bed, thence fcver'd by hard fate Juft in the blofTom of thofe nuptial joys, That fince have into fulnefs fpread, and cheer'd 420 With undiminifb'd fweetnefs ? — Rather fay, Did'ft thou not number every lagging hour With fond impatience, and the minutes blame Too tedious in their courfe, till on thy fight, Fair folace of my foul, thy bridegroom rofe 425 Tranfported : blifs too big for utterance rode On our hearts pants triumphing ! — Dread we then, Oh ftrange, the Bridegroo??t oi o\xr fouls return, Whofe love ftronger than death, no mortal flame Can ought refemble ? dread we then the porty 430 That to the haven of eternal reft Our Ihipwreckt vefl'el brings ? — Wherefore not long. Wherefore not look with expedation fond, And pafTion all-inflam'd, for that great day Of Jesu's coming : and the blifsful hour 435 That to our Bridegroom's everlafting arms, And nuptials all-confummate fhall admit Our fouls delighted ? — King of terrors. Deaths Thou art man's dread : How doth thy leaden dart. Oh mighty Conqueror, with cold horror pierce 440 The heart benumb'd : make the chill blood ftand flill. And courfe no longer thro' the purple veins And [ 19 ] And allies of the body : while the pulfe, Life's centinel, retiring from its watch, Gives notice of departing life : while fteals 445 O'er the dark eye-balls mifty night ; and fliff The limbs, fo glowing late, freeze into clay Food for the darkfom grave ! Yet wherefore fear, What needs we muft encounter ? Wherefore fear 450 A foe whom none can fhun; whofe ftroke, tho' dread, Of force but momentary *, fends the foul From the dark prifon of an earthly cot To palace of celeftial mould ! — Who flies Adventure dangerous, and perils vaft 455 To gain renowned meed ? — What lover fears The long dark cavern, that conducts his fteps Lonely, beneath the bowels of the earth, To the fair bofom of his fecret fpoufe. Wedded and won : yet not for fome hard hap, 460 Or parents frown, or fortune all-unmeet, Acknowledg'd and avow'd ? — Old ftories tell * Cowards die many times, before their death : The valiant never tafte of death but once : Of all the wonders that I yet have heard. It feems to me moft ftran^e that men fliould fear : Seeing that death, a neceflary end, - Will come, when it will come,— — Julius Ca^far In Shakefp. D 2 That [ 20 ] That cril Lcancler^ warm'd with the generous love Of beauteous Hej'o^ dreaded nought to dare Nightly tl e fwelling waves; and with bold ftroke 465 Forc'd thro' rough ocean his fond way, while led By friendly light from her fair hand, whofe touch Repay'd the glad adventurer. Of love Such the commanding power ! * — So did we love The Bridegroom of our fouls, who forth from heav'n 470 Hath hung his words fure light, fafe to conduct Our path unerring : gloomy death's deep waves Nought fhould we dread, nor fear the monfter's dart More than the faithful youth the kindly wave That bore him to his love? — But ah, that wave 475 Who without love could dare ? Death's fting moft fharp Is Sin : and fin, rebellious fin, is want Of love alone : where Jesus holds the fway 'Vidlorious in the heart, all other loves Hide their diminifli'd heads : and the rank train 480 Of beftial, devilifh pafllons 'fore him fly, As, 'fore his great exemplar, morning light. Foul darknefs, with her murderers bath'd in blood, » Muffled adulterers, thieves that love the fliade. Spirits of night, that walk the earth ; and beafts 485 That to their dark caves hafte, growling at day, And hide them from the Sun. — Oh the cold love * He was loft in a dark tempeftuous night. Utyxysr, m AynTtr.^ rv^xmu fays Chryfa/tom. Of [ ^' ] , of our degenerate hearts, in thefe laft days ; How fenfelefs of thy beauty, of thy love. Thy matchlefs beauty, love unfpeakable, Thou altogether lovely! — Hence how dread To our imaginations pale with fear. The thoughts of death! Men fhiver at the name! His terror makes cold cowards of us all : Nor they^ whofe trade is deaths are from the fear, 40 r — Oh fhame — exempt! And whence this fear? — Ah, look How every love, how every luft can lead Men's hearts its willing captive; how they doat On fhadows vain, and triflingly purfue Bubbles, that burft and lofe their colour'd rings, roo Or ere the delicate breath breathes on them ! — Look, How every love, but love divine leads on Its potent multitudes, that flutter round The fliadow vain of unfubftantialjoys: As gaudy butterflies, that lightly fpread Their painted down, and fkim from flower to flower Of momentary flay : or as the moth That foolifli plays around the dazzling flame, Till in the fatal circle caught, it drops. And woe and wifdom learns at once, — too late! j-jq Look, how compliant with the world's fell lore. To fafliion flaves, and in flrong cuftom's chain Bound; with the multitude what numbers rufli Pre- [ " ] Precipitate to pay their civil court At vice, or folly's temple: tho' recoils 515 Their better reafon, and their foberer fenfe The rank idolatry difclaims. — Ah look At thefe, innumerable ; and doubt no more, Whence comes death's dread, and judgment's trembling fear. On men's brows wonder fits, to hear the fond 520 The tale enthuftaftiCy that there wej-e — Oh that their numbers yet were found !) there were Who welcom'd death more warmly than the bride Her faithful bridegroom : and the lov'd approach Of their Immanuel in the clouds defir'd 525 With expedations more awake, than thine. Oh foul of avarice, Carpus^ hov'ring o'er The rent-roll vvifh'd of fome eflate immenfe, By thy infatiate ufury well nigh Devoured from fpend-thrift heir ! — Look, chriflians, look, 530 — If Chrijltans rightly call'd, who never fight, Tho' with the red crofs mark'd upon your brows, Beneath the crimfon'd banner of your God, Againfl foul fin, proud Satan, and the world, Deceitful and deceiv'd : — befits not then 535 The name, Deferters, rather? — Yet to call, II haply the remembrance may infpire With penitent fliame well-pleafing, back to call 3 To [ 23 ] To the vldorious fign of grace and peace, Look at the noble champions who have wag'd ^aq Full well the glorious war! — See in the Van, Amidft the chofen leaders, toilfome Paul, Loaden with vidlories, in triumphant fort Wifliing to be diffolv'dj and be with Chrijl! While, in faith's full aiTurance, he declares, 54r *' The time of my departure is at hand, " And ready am I now to be pour'd forth *' As a libation fweet, unto my God ! " And pleafmg the reflexion! I have fought " And conftantly maintain'd the noble fight : - ^^ " I've run the courfe complete: have kept the faith : " Henceforth of righteoufnefs the golden crown " Is laid up for me : the immortal crown, " Which at that day, the Lord, the righteous judge " Will give to ME ! — Yet not to Me alone, r r r " But to all thofe^ that his appearing Love»" And fuch are they, that glorious file led on By Stephen, proto-martyr, whofe bleft hands Unfurl from ftandard high, the flaming flag. Beneath whofe banner thefe have nobly fouglit 560 And dy'd their robes in blood ! Oh how they long'd, With ardent joy, — how conftantly they fcorn'd Nay fought, nay welcom'd, flames, wild-beafts, and racks, With [ n ] With all the cruel wantonnefs of death Devis'd by tyrants perfecuting rage : 565 And wearied out with patience all-divine Invention's fubtleft tortures : faithful found, Found faithful unto death ! — Hail, glorious throng, Of Martyrs noble army ! ever hail ! High teftimony have ye borne to Jesu's truth, 570 And Jesu's love confummate. Be your crowns Bright with fuperior luftre! — Well ye deem'd Thofe happy, w4io obtain'd on earth fuch grace. Favour' d fo highly, as to fhed their blood. In the Redeemer's caufe! well could my foul, 575 (If envy ought permitted to allow — ) Envy your choice felicity : and fure If envy e'er were lawful, it were here. Yet 'midft the radiant troop, it glads my heart, A fquadron to behold of port divine 5 80 From my lov'd country. Faithful Ridley, hail, Truths ftrenuous champion : with that foldier bold Of men regardlefs, Latimer, to flames Jocund, as to a bridal bed, who hied : Hail, all-laborious Cranmer, foul of love — 5^5 Well did thy dauntlefs courage expiate Thy n'gk hand's fault : while unappall'd thou ftood'ft, And gav'fl th' oiFender to confuming fire ! 2 I'hou [ =S ] Thou never knew'ft refentment to thy foe, Yet fpared not, with indignation juft, 590 Thy tendereft flefli ! * Firft of Reformers^ hail, And chief of Britijh Martyrs! Well my fong Could be content, thy praifes to record With all the countlefs multitude, that throngs From Britain^ fliore ! whofe names live here embalm'd 595 In faithful memory, in the book of life Recorded live for ever! — Yet the meed Of my poor verfe, blefl: worthies, but ill fuits Your praifes high: — Oh might our towering hopes Rife into emulation, while we view 600 The luftre of your deeds : — Rife from our death And fleep fupine, ftruck with the mighty love Of that eternal captain, who leads on Your fouls, thro' oppolition perilous, To vitftory immortal ! 60 c Yet to truth, At once, and friendiliip, let my fong be jufl: ; Nor thou, my friend^ above the reach of praife. * Archbifbop C;vjw/n°5 How to avoid the perils of each ftorm. To huili each tempeft, and to calm each wave ! — Oh let the love^ that thus unfought was kind, Implor'd, its kindnefs ftill preferve : and guide Unfkilful as we are our veffels helm : 1090 Safe landing us from tempefts and from waves In that lov'd harbour, on that long'd for fliore, Where peace eternal blooms, and one glad day Of undiminiHi'd joy for ever fhines Where, in bright crouds, upon the cryftal beach, '095 Saints, angels, friends, ftand ready to receive, And welcome us from out the crazy bark Nigh-founder'd, landing !— They, each peril paft, Death's [ 46 ] Death's gloomy terrors vanquifli'd, and each foe Subdued, with gratulations fvveet, and fongs iioo Of joy, Hiall greet our fouls: and 'midft the fhouts Of victory celeftial, and the tone Of heavenly harps, by heavenly harpers ftrung, Shall to thy glorious prefence introduce : But words are wanting here : — We proftrate fall, 1105 Before thee trembling, ravifh'd, loving, loft! — Come then, Lord "Jefus : all our fouls are thine I Oh come, fvveet Saviour, quickly, quickly come ! We languifh, love of God, for thy delay ! Why tarry thus thy chariot-wheels ? — How long ? mo When will it be? — Come quickly; — Lord, how long! Kai T« icv£ViJiX, VMi V) vu/x^v), hiy^aivt EA0E. Kui ec'Anuv tiTttcTU, £A0E. Km 5<\|/wv, EAflsTftii yiai o SsXwy )^ici/,^xveT To vSwp Zwjjf Swp£«v. Aeyii /x«pTupwv tccvtx A/xviv- Na( EPXOT, KTPIE IHSOT. Revel, xxii. 17. The END. ERRATUM. Tape 25, line 603, iox leads read kd. December 7, 1757. PROPOSALS For Printing, in two handfome Volumes, i2mo. (Adorned with a fine Head of the Author, and fome Particulars of his Life,) CONTEMPLATIO NS O N T H E NEW lESrAMENT. By the Right Reverend JOSEPH HALL, D. D. And Bifhop of Norwich. The "Whole carefully revifed, the obfolete Words and ExprefTions cxpLined, and the Texts of Sacred Scripture added, by The Reverend WILLIAM DODD. ^ Lecturer of Weft-Ham, EJfex, and St. Olave's, Hart-Jlreet, London. CONDITIONS. I. The Price to Subfcribers will be Five Shillings fewed in blue Paper, or Six Shillings bound. No Money to be paid rill the Books are delivered. II. The Work will be put to the Prefs, as foon as a competent Number of Sub- fcribers have delivered in their Names either to the Reverend Mr. DodJ, W. Faden in Wine-Office-Court, Fleet-jlreet ; or £. Billy in the Poultry. III. The Whole will be finifhed with all convenient Difpatch. And the Head already engraved by Mr. Boitard, may be feen either at IV, Faden's or E, Dillfs. T'h folhwiiig Books and Tracls, ivfhtai hy the Rev. Mr. Dodd, may be had of \V. Faden, /« Wine-Office-Court, Fleet-ftreet, and E. Dilly in thz Poultry. I ■ A Courfe of Sermons on the Miracles of our Saviour. Preach'd in the Pa- /\ ii(h Cliurches of fVeJl-Ham, Ejfcx, and 5/. Olave's, Hart-Street, London, in two Vohinies. The firfl: Volume contains, i, The Eafmefs of Chrifl's Yoke % or an introdiiclory Sermon. ?.. The CleanHng of the Leper. 3. The good Cen- turion. 4. The Paralytic cured. 5. The V.'iJow's Son of Ntiin. 6. The Wind and Sea rebuked. 7. 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