'OTAINA-JtW vvlOS-ANCEl^ 5 ^ ^ "^HUAINIHttV ^OFCAIIFO/?^ ^OFCAilF(%. ^AHvaan-x^ 35 ~>* v & y omnww ^UIBRARYfl/ aUHNIVERSVa vvlOSlfj> ^OJIIVDJO^ o ^7l3DNVS01^ ^OFCAIIFO/?^ y o ^WEUNIVFR^ ^lOS-ANGElfr. ^ 2 - ^lOS-ANf.Elfjv \*&t Itei ^/m\iNiN\\v ''TOiiYD-jo* 7 '"mimw ^10SANCEI^ tyn\m -3\\v ^OFCA1IFO% ^OFCAllFOfy ry 0AHvnain^ y 0Anvaan^ v<^ <^UIBRARYQr '^ojiivj-jc^ \WE UNIVERS/a o . 1813. PREFACE. With an anxious diffidence I present myself as an Author to the notice of the Public. Happy shall I be, if the follow- ing sheets contain aught that is amusing and meritorious ; they are the humble ef- forts of my leisure moments, my favourite amusement and will be my pride and in- centive, should they prove worthy of the community to whom they are submitted : I appeal to my Readers for indulgence in my first attempt. The Deserted Village Restored is in imi- tation (if I may say so) of Goldsmith. The Pastorcds, Hermit, Elegy, &c. may be discovered, from their titles, &c. to be in imitation of much, very much my supe- riors in the art of poetry. ^ Fully conscious am I of the difficulties 853863 PREFACE. under which an Author ranges the literary world, but more particularly I feel the awkward situation of his " entree ;" all eyes upon him, and eager either to ap- prove or to condemn. How can I, thus situated, but experience a bashful, palpi- tating anxiety for my fate ; though I feel myself conscious of intending only to gra- tify the Reader, whose delight and ap- proval are the consecutive reasons for publishing. Among the numerous and deservedly popular productions, I do not expect to range with the foremost, nor is it any part of my design to enter the list of competi- tion; contenting myself merely with the hope of seeing my productions moderately spread among the collections of British poetry; and, should I deserve the name of a Poet, I shall gain the consummation of my hopes. THE AUTHOR, CONTENTS. PAGE The Deserted Village Restored 1 The Blind Beggar 25 Pastoral. Spring 107 Summer 115 Autumn 121 Winter 128 Sun-Rise 143 To the Soul 151 The Country Church-yard 154 The Thief 101 Love 165 Moonlight 1G7 Echo i 172 The Doubt 177 Day. An Ode 180 CONTENTS. PAGE The Withered Vine 187 An Elegy 191 The Hermit 200 Acrostic. Morning 212 Evening 21(> Content 219 Nature 224 uii BESERTEB VILLAGE RESTORED. Again sweet Auburn's desolated plains, From whence Oppression drove her honest swains, Revives to life ! and while I give the view Muse bid description drop its genial dew. Ye Mantuan groves, renown'd for song refin'd, Which, bred in numbers, Maro's youthful mind ; Which taught the bard, while he could scarcely tread, The Muses' secrets and their fountain head : Here, in a time remote, transmit thy fire, My fame arouse, and all my verse inspire. When the deserted village smil'd in fame, lis scenes were fair sweet Auburn was its name. B Now hath its offspring from its ashes sprung, Beneath a name as mellow to the tongue, And Tempe, 4 rural, youthful, smiling, gay, Prefers its pleasures for a pleasing lay. Scarce any fleeting year o'erpasses man But some material changes are began ; And, as life lengthens, pleasures, hopes, and pain, Wind forth their links, and Death completes the chain. From whence succession elevates her face, And good or ill supplies the vacant place. 'Twas here Oppression sway'd her heavy hand, The village bow'd, departing at command ; Each fled from where a Scilla's vengeance frown'd, A desart springs, and gives its wildness round ; Till other hands assum'd the wish'd-for reign, And gave inducement to each banish'd swain, To come once more, and populate the bow'rs, Which are replanted with the choicest flow'rs ; Who brings each innocent and rural charm, And raise the cot, and cultivate the farm : While labour grants its comforts and its pride, With Britains boast the jovial fire-side. Each sire made happy seeks his neat-built cot, Retires from toil, contented with his lot ; Whose ruddy partner meets him at the door, Kind takes his tools, and lays them on the floor ; And, with a smile conducts him to the fire, Where rev'rend age is sat, the rustic sire ; While ruddy infants clamber round the chair, Striving to beat, the first caress to share. The cradled infant hears the father's voice, And cries (its age's expression to rejoice). Tempe, sweet offspring of Thessalian charms, Thy modern grace, the ancient's fame alarms Their sports are fled, and age has made them grey, But thine is youth, and zenith beauties gay. No traits of age yet wrinkle round thy face Where can we glide to catch an awkward grace ? No obvious dissimilitude is thine, Thy charms are novel, and thy features fine. b 2 Enubilous scen'ry and emphatic spring, Where health and peace are ever on the wing ; Where lovely airs and sweetly humid rains, Bless all thy blooms, and bless the happy swains. Dear, fragrant bow'rs of true delight and ease, I turn to thee, for thou canst sweetly please ; Thou canst possess, enfold, and rule my heart In sov'reign sway, and in a lovely part, And give to living-memory thy charms Oh ! take me back and fold me to thy arms. Thy scenes contain sweet intellectual mines, Colloquial lessons and replete confines ; Warms at my breast, so many charms and rare, I can but wonder how they enter there ; How art so secret, and so finely laid, Can pierce the breast, and make superb each shade, And touch sequacious to a hidden plan, The secret, deep, immortal part of man. Though sweet content egregiously I prize, Uneasy passions will spontaneous rise, That I debar'd, must shun thy olive charms, Far from thy groves and thy delightful farms. And deep regret, from Mem'ry's wakeful store, Assails my heart, and storms Contentment's door. Like w hen an infant of sweet tender years, To nurse is sent, alas ! its infant fears, Its soul is touch'd, though passion slumbering lies, And wounded deep, remembers " Ma," and cries. So oft I look upon thy fost'ring cares, And vent my sorrow in the Muse's tears. Sweet living beauties of the country life, Thy sportive pleasures ev'iy where are rife ; There never-failing Nature lifts her hand, Whose Cornucopia's charms o'erspread the land ; And plenty falls, and seeds of glory spring, Which bids the soul admire, exult, and sing. See yon wide prospect drinks the visual ray, Behold the beauties and the wild display ; The deep turn'd valley, and the gentle hill, The hanging woodland, and the purling rill ; B 3 The moss-wove thatch, which makes a rustic show, The sloping fallow of a russet glow ; The distant church, with gothic beauties spread, The flint-pickt tower, which elevates its head ; Th' op'ning copse up yonder verdant hill, Where picturesquely stands the needful mill : All these conspire with halcyon airs to please, No ruffling cares are needful to appease ; * No murky stenches from a crowded town, No atmospheres of smoke to beat us down, No distant murmurs of a carting throng, Which London, like a cascade, sweeps along ; When round the suburbs of that wondrous sceue, The contemplative feet impress the green. At eve, when quiet airs should there pervade, Then noise, low-rushing, breaks the placid shade ; And, like a cascade, on a distant shore, We hear old Thames, through pented arches roar, And tribes that either side tumultuous line, All in the distant cascade rush combine. Tis not so here nought checks the sighing gale. Save thine own plaint, or plaintive nightingale ; And here the soul self wrapt may light peruse, A myriad voices and invoke the Muse : A thousand shrubb'ries and a thousand trees, A thousand voices from th' industrious bees ; A thousand odours from the flow 'rets spring, A thousand songsters on th' obedient wing ; A thousand teints on distant hills arise, A thousand beauties spread along the skies ; A thousand echoes from the son'rous doom, A thousand charms, unconscious whence they conic ; A thousand fountains springing in the heart, May wrap the soul, and teach us Nature's art. Tempe 'tis thine to prepossess the soul, A happy distance from th' Antarctic pole ; No torrid sun pours on thy rustic swains, Which beat oppressive on th' Amphiscian plains. Here mild vicissitudes possess the sphere, And genial changes govern all the year. b 4 8 Here learns the mind, an evanescent rule, Where are such lessons as in Nature's school ; For there no masters ai britary reign, The rules are perfect, and the precepts plain ; The page is turn'd intuitive to view, The tasks are easy, and delightful too. How smiles a land, when wealth alone is svvay'd, To grant their population joys from trade ; When the great bend to every noble act, Who thus descending, nought from pow'r detract ; Who by example teach men not to shrink, And each bold peasant adds a bolder link ; Who sway'd, like patriots, fem'nine fears deride, Become at once their country's stiength and pride. From independence rural manners rise, And rural mirth from slav'ry ever tlies, Seeks other hamlets where a cheerful strain, Renders hard labour lighter to the swain ; Who, unincuinber'd by unwieldy wealth, Pass all their lives in innocence and health ; 9 Nor large demands from luxury to crave, To shrink the little which kind Heav'n gave ; Their wants are little, and they ask no more Than labour's produce and its wholesome store. No ruthless hand here gripes the acres round, Each holds his farm, and boasts his yielding ground ; Each tills his land, an independant man, Secure from innovation or trepan. Nor sweeping landlord with proscriptions harm, Wraps land on land, and each contiguous farm ; Nor turns the man that boasts a little land, With wife and children to the world's bare strand ; But here secure he reaps his scanty store, Whose wants and learning bids him ask no more ; He ne'er had wealth, he never knew the plague, Or heard of Indus, or the splendid Hague. Noue here embrue their hands in useless gain, And heap up treasures with a miser's pain, Who courts but want aud strives but to be poor, And thinks that wealth alone consists in store ; b5 10 Nor once conceives their good reults from use, But turns this destin'd purpose to abuse ; Gives all but justice to his niggard plan, Insults his God, and harms his fellow man : No local virtues fill his phantom'd head, No hope but gain reposes on his bed ; The mines of Peru, uselessly he'd drain, And thinks it wealth, to heap and live in vain. What end have such I'll not pretend to read, Or where consign'd, when Death bids life recede ; A juster hand ordains us life or gloom, Whether we lie in turf-bound grave or tomb ; But let me die whenever 'tis decreed, From av*rice, hate, and poor oppression freed ! On Alpine scenes with precipices hung, Hath the fond soul with admiration rung, Whose steep ascents, laborious to arise, And needle-summits piercing through the skies ; Have led the heart to grandeur and its train, But let me wander o'er the russet plain, II Step in some cot, where cleanliness array 'd, Arrests my progress, which is long delay'd. Where seated in the midst on clean brick floor, The children, curious peaking, creak the door ; And, if discover'd, and are bid to come, The big ones push the less into the room. These artless fancies though they please not all, Are joys in kind with masquerade or ball ; And, notice taken of this childish art, Are pleasing moments to the poor man's heart; Who tells exulting with an humble joy, Some dormant promises within his boy. Here foodful commons much assist the poor, Which half sustains their little thrifty store ; This gen'ral depot shew a rising breed, Of colts, the aged horses to succeed. The poor man's pig, the garrulous geese and hens, A few poor sheep unus'd to genial pens. And one small boy is seen around to stray, To watch the farmer's better wealth by day ; 12 Who gathers muck, and which he sells to aid The scanty pittance for his watching trade. Yon stands the alehouse with alluring sign, The door surmounted with the words, " neat wine,' Where village politicians, weekly led, Attend to hear the county paper read ; Decide each topic of each tott'ring state, Which ministers cannot decide, but fate : While some one noted for loquacious skill, Draws ev'ry eye, while ev'ry mouth is still - t Till some idea, inspiring to the cause, Empties each bumper and creates applause. Then o'er the way the Barber hath his tide, Who was apprentic'd at, (they say) Cheapside. I know him well, a man of middling sense, Without the modern buskins of pretence ; Familiar, easy, jocular, and plain, Some smart repart was mingled with his strain ; Convulsing laughter rattled as he spoke, Which gather'd strength from novelty of joke. 13 And whispers say his learning lends supply, For he had read the Roman History : There at his door, a cluster take their stand, While one a-time employ his dextrous hand. There ev'ry theme is brought in course to view, The laughter, pun, and Strap's a punster too. His plasterM wall, caricature befit, Much crowns th' acknowledgment of his wit; And all the train made spruce and cleanly shav'd, Retire applauding how he well behav'd. When worth and virtue undeserv'd sustain The loss of honour and exalted reign, Yet thence revives and spread again their bloom, And in oblivion shakes their fitless gloom. How glows the heart to see the spotless cause, Arise, rewarded by the juster laws. And when from base proscriptions too we see 1 'no ri sing farm house and the verdant lea ; The busy ploughman fertilize the earth, Th' active population's innocent mirth, 14 The meadows lowing harmony resound, The harvest smiling shake its plenty round ; The great man's habitation daily blest, The poor his pleasure and his staff of rest ; The whole enchain'd in mutual amity, (The lineal blessing to posterity). How springs the heart to see our native soil Revive again and in luxuriance smile. Thou blissful village, seat of recreant hours, Reviv'st again, and glori'st in thy pow'rs ; Thou shalt again behold me on thy lea, And give thy pleasures and the world to me. Could moral precept in a tender rhyme Convey a lesson to restrict each crime ; And hold to view each hideous side of ill, No gifted pen from henceforth should lie still, Till each exemplary virtue bright unfurl'd, Should interpose, eclipse the pseudo- world. A species of ingratitude is seen, Among the biped songsters of the green ; 15 And man with reason, is, alas ! not free From base return, ungrateful apathy. Along the common's most secluded way, Approach the pond, stop short, and there survey, The parent cuckoo sucks the wagtails eggs, W ho leaves her own among the wat'ry sedges. The tender wagtail, with paternal care, Brings forth the young, unconscious whence they are. I've seen the pair with deep laborious speed Together bring the pond'rous bird its feed ; Who bulky stands, with prurient, flutt'ring wing, And gapes for more than joint endeavours bring. All wet the parents bring devoted flies, The dainty bird all other food denies ; When grown, the tender parents victims fall, To base ingratitude, 'tis radical. Could man through life, exempt himself from this, How might the world exult and care dismiss. One small example of our crimes ('tis few), Is bere exemplified in the cuckoo ; 16 But eye the world, alas ! the many springs, Which demonstrate themselves on tested wings. The world permits ! by custom 'tis decreed, The heart must shudder, and the victim bleed. Sweet, lovely village, calm retirement's throne, Where worlds may cease to trouble, life thine own. How blest is he foredoom'd in care to strive, Who settles here, and learns at last to live ; Quits the wide world, where strong temptations lure, And learns to soften passions, though not cure, Gives such bold proofs, that while the pledge is giv'n, 'Tis not to mock the world, tho' seen by Heav'n. Imploring mis'ry turns not hence in fear, Bends down the head, and sheds a quiv'ring tear. Here learns the man to pardon and to shew A little mercy 'tis a gem below. Sweeps many a rugged baffling cheek away, And smooths the path to heav'n in life's decay ; Gains Angels', Seraphs' pinions for our soul, Heav'n grants its peace, and mercy crowns the whole. 17 Short, like its space, are life's enjoyments too, Which seldom meet the wishes of the view; Like as a vision brightens to the eye, On near approach the outlines fade and die. So 'tis with life ; we hope and strive to gain, Attainment shews, attainment is in vain ; Becomes an antecedent wheu once gain'd, And leaves behind yet objects unattain'd. But country-life affords less hopes and views, The villager knows nought of worldly shews. Each morn perpetual brings its labours round, The scene familiar never brings a wound : If fortune grant its due support of health, 'Tis all his hopes, and all he knows of wealth ; Heaven but grant his infants prosperous days, Are all his views, and all for which he prays ; And, if his age beholds his sons fair state, His joys are crown'd, he bends in love to fate. Here calm and quietude propugn the man, Nor vassal he to one as weak and wan ; 18 He lives forsooth as well as times allow, Nor perfect happy doth his tongue avow ; And, whether philosophic, fool, or what, He argues not, that this should now be that ; But, easy, willing, industrious, and free, Takes what is giv'n, and leaves the rest to me. Here mirth and joy inspiring fills each breast, When Whitsuntide displays the village feast, A waggon deck'd is drawn by many a pair Of happy swains, who, jovial rend the air; And, one as Phaeton, high commands his whip, A calf's tail for a thong, the swains to tip ; While one above, in horns, is doom'd in front, The last one married, to sustain the brunt, Of all the jest and laughter of the town, (Or proxy paid) to drive all concern down. And, at each alehouse, and each richer door, With merry laughter and a joyous roar, Is sung, " How gentle John to court did go, " T'inquire, whether he was a witch or no ; 19 " The judges smil'd, replied, and kick'd his breech, " He was more like a cuckold than a witch." A gift is giv'n to crown the yearly task, To gain October from the aged cask ; And on they move, with much grotesque display, And mirth and innocence completes the day. Here Dives lives from pride and envy free, \Y hose grounds are open to simplicity ; The swains can there, their mutual love exchange, And through delightful paths serenely range. Arcadian times revive, and rural lays From arbours breathe, and move the tender sprays. And dying, ceasing, swelling sounds presume, To fill each air, which myrtle beds perfume ; And vocal hills, with virgin modesty, In wliisp'ring sounds to tuneful lays reply ; And Daphnis, Thisbe, all the shepherd train, Might here resume their wonted songs again. And scenes, which golden days alone proclaim, Might here the groves and all their ease reclaim, 20 Might sing for bowls, and kids, and tender ewes, Might weave a garland, or in love carouse ; Might send Augusta lays for times to come, As far fam'd Mantua did t'imperial Rome. For more refin'd and deep reflecting minds The gloomy shrubb'ry and the vista winds. And here ye poets, never eyes beheld So sweet a hall, by gath'ring dies propell'd. Thick woven trees enclose the sublime spot, And form a wall around the heav'uly grot. An avenue winds, and through a narrow space Ye enter panting to the serene vase. Where gorgeous beauties, circling shrubb'ries share, FormM by sweet foilage, which salutes the air ; Lebanon's cedars and fine stately pines, And yews aspiring through the thick confines. An awe, a shade, a gloom, no mind conceives, Embow'rs the seats amid th' umbrageous leaves. Light's shut around the horizontal rays Dart on the shrubs and everlasting bays. , 21 Th' aspin, trembling, shakes its trenuous leaves, The woodbine too around its smooth trunk cleaves ; A plat of grass o'erspreads the verdant floor, And ev'ry ray is such we might adore : Such charms are there so artlessly combin'd, We leave a ling'ring, wistful look behind. When Sol meets Vespa from his gorgeous throne, Invests Atlantia with the Iris zone, And slants obliquely o'er her furrow'd main, The glitt'ring beauties of the ethereal plain ; Here rapture comes and walks her festive round, In deep, eventual, contemplation bound ; And, like a maid, who warmly takes the arm, The lenient pressure 'wakes the soft alarm : So here scarce conscious at the happy time, Of shades profound, intuitive, sublime, The rays, by glances and by modest falls, At once inspires and at once enthralls Gives to the mind which scarcely seems t'observe, Terrestial secret and the azure curve. 22 And Nature bids her secret influence move, And all the soul is borne on floating love. These are thy charms, sweet Tempe, and thy art, Nor shalt thou lessen or thy swains depart ; Nor foul oppression shall thy groves invade, Nor shall a charm which governs be delay'd ; Nor doom'd to sink a desart plain away, Nor faded beauties all these ties gainsay ; Nor like a maid, who once in beauty shone, With all the gems that could her grace adorn ; And then by age, disease, and all her train, Misfortune too, and writhing jaundic'd pain ; By periods dwindle to the sheltering grave, Nor leave a vestige, but the earth which clave. Thy vales shall flourish, and thy woodland bloom, Thy shades shall govern with their pleasing gloom ; Thy walks shall lead full many happy pairs, Where blushing Flora governs all the airs ; And where Pomona studs the reigning grace, Far from the scenes of riot and grimace. 23 Felicity, depends upon the mind Within ourselves alone the gift we find How blest are they which have the pleasing views, More blest are they which add the virtuous Muse. From hence each joy elicited to flame, At once composes and inspires the frame Stands as a guide, to bid the heart excel, And shakes fair numbers at the fiend of hell Renders each pleasure immaculate and plain, Immingles health, and smooths the hour of pain. Thou Muse immortal ! never time shall flee, Reserv'd to sink but with Eternity : Then shalt thy ruins of immortal ore, Bespeak the fabric which thy beauties bore. While all the arts and fantasies of pride Shall lay as nought, regardless at thy side ; While thy fair notes, selected from thy choir Of mortal lays, shall string th' immortal lyre ; And mortals, call'd Immortal hence shall frame, Not time-bound report, but a vital fame. THE iftintt Ueggai* OF BETHNAL GREEN. IN THREE CANTOS. CANTO I. H E nown extended wide and far, Au ancient beggar's character ; Who held, though blind, depress'd, and mean, The chief attraction of the Green. A lovely daughter grac'd his age, Endow'd with charms which must engage And more than charms her beauties swell The lovely fair to miracle ; 26 And Bethnal Green became resort For men of title from the court, And city beaus of ev'ry sphere, Who came to pay their devoirs here : But she with beauty was discreet, And scorn'd each suitor's tale to meet ; Repuls'd the offers of the great, Contented with her humble state : Yet each day's dawn with praises came, And added lustre to her fame. As lilies fair she graceful shone ; Ethereal roseate was her own : Ethereal smiles adorn'd her air, (Etherial will alone compare.) A voice as sweet as music's strains, Which melting harmony contains ; Eyes like the hazel and her hair The sweetest auburn might compare ; Nor was a vacuum in her mind, But learning, sense, and wit combin'd. 27 And judgment gave a finisli'd stroke To all the maxims which she spoke ; And sweet reserve, if so it be, Confirm'd her soul a prodigy. And, if the heart knew love's alarms, 'T must fall a victim to her charms ; And not a few, with studied pains, Confess'd her pow'r and Cupid's chains. Ah ! what is beauty, when upborne Alone by what mere forms adorn ! Which, as a lily, hath its day, Whose charms will fade and die away ; Nor can the pow'r of art restore The wkher'd bays to beauty more ; But, sunk for ever, ever dies The shallow form neglected lies. But, when the graces of the heart Have beauties form and form apart j Then, if the outward form decay, The mind's bright saplings cheer the day ; c 2 28 Aud fadeless charms, and endless grace, Supplies mutation's fleeting place. Fair springs the morn, and who can tell What skies shall reign at ev'ning's veil ? Uncertain's born the best of men : The skies oft clear and cloud again ; Day springs on day no fate we wot, Aud Death alone confirms the lot. Thus rose the Beggar's early fame, But low'ring skies obscur'd his name ; And, what all meet, he had his foes, His faults, his gifts, his fears, his woes. Now aged grown, and weak, and blind, He only held unbroken mind. Soft on his temples grew the hairs As white as snow, the fruit of years The hoary blossoms of the grave, Which furrow'd Time and Care doth grave. The rising sinews of his hand Confess'd the pow'r of Time's command ; 29 And from his sleek and fair forehead The graceful locks of youth were fled ; And Age, dismantled of defence, Claim'd, in return, our reverence. Oft, when the poor have rued their fate, And in lament envied the great, To urge content, on Heav'n rely, Would he deduce this just reply : " Life rises, springs, advances, gains Its chequer'd scenes and mazy plains ; And, ere the soul of thought partakes, Its thirstyb loodhounds overtakes ; And quags and bogs delude the feet Where the best judgment seeks retreat ; And they who safely do advance, Seem borne through life by merely chance ; While he who strives with upright pains In seeming hardship, frequent gains Merit's rebuffs, or Envy's shear, Which crops our ripe, autumnal ear. c 3 30 Yet, ask the fortunate, the blest, And discontent is in their breast ; As if 'twere Nature's innate throes To strive with life's engrafted woes. And each man must expect to share Life's crosses, joys, peace-sparks, and care ; Whose great supporter still must be Reliance and Philosophy." Near to the road, .beside the Green, A stately oak for ages been, Whose shelter oft affords retreat, The trunk encircled by a seat, Was known to every passer by, From loud appeal for charity. And there the Beggar long had sat, And heard each loud pedestrian's chat ; And, 'mong the rest, many a lord, And man of fame, who sought Old Ford A spot renown'd of old by all ; But time has now but left Clay-Hall 31 A house where dwelt a noble lord, Of manners free, and plenteous board : But now, converted to a sign, Where Bacchus rears aloft his sign, No vestiges remain of state, Or noble welcome from the great. These flocking guests, who frequent came, Each in their turn beheld the dame ; Who oft her aged sire would lead To take his seat across the mead. And the Beggar's daughter gain'd What many breasts have ne'er attain'd (Though proud Ambition fir'd their aim) A lasting, lovely, virtuous fame. But, as the heart and views of man Have each a sep'rate, different plan, 'Twas not unlike, among them all, That some were base, deplorable Guided alone by appetite, Nor sacritic'd their views to right. c 4 32 The name of greatness made them bold, And sanctity they plac'd in gold ; And to the Beggar, blind and poor, They oft would chat with crafty lore : But he had much the crafty scann'd, Nor was he now with ease trepann'd. And when the gay with craft have said, " How sad it is to ask for bread ! If then your daughter you consult, Let acquiescence good result ; And, in an elevated sphere, Let her fair charms adorn'd appear ; And drop, yourself, this niggard trade, And share in joy, and bless the maid.'* " First let your heart attainment reach, Ere others you attempt to teach. Foe, hast thou joy," the man enjoin'd, 4< When thou, than I, art still more blind ; AVhen ev'ry light, which should control A virtuous life, is barr'd thy soul ; 33 And, though with light are blest thy eyes, Yet never count the gift a prize, When unendow'd with inward rays, And darkness hangs around thy ways ! Go ! mark the Beggar's mild reply ; Find joy, but other courses try." But still the maid's attractive charms Each bold intruder's ardour warms. Some would persuade (in misled hope), The lovely maiden to elope ; But all their efforts with the maid Were scom'd, repuls'd, or vainly paid. Yet still the suitors vex'd her peace, Nor aught could check or make them cease ; Till the fair maid implor'd her sire From thence in secret to retire, And seek some spot still more recluse, Far from the reach of their abuse ; When should her heart encourage love, In peace the mutual flame might move ; c 5 34 And peaceful days be all her pride, Till Death o'er them should silent glide. But Montford, who had kept his sphere From the lovely fair one's ear, Revolv'd the wishes in his mind, Nor told the maid what he design'd : Yet sooth'd her fears, and promis'd soon To grant her the desir'd boon, And send each suitor from her face, Expos'd to shame and due disgrace . And leave her in impassive state, Secur'd from importune or hate ; Which sooth'd the maiden in her fears, i Whose soul repays with moving tears. But, 'mid this scene of courtiers' strife, Love in fair Bessy's heart was rife ; Where Henry bid the passion dwell That passion, inexplicable That darling mirror of the heart, Whose fires delude by obverse art ; 35 - In which fair clear-obscure we find Passion leads passion to the mind ; Fancy pursues augmented fires, And distant stands Hope's beck'ning spires, Whose road lies tempting to the feet, But which admits of no retreat Love-retrograde but augments pain, Who, rattling, shakes the galling chain. Pursue ! anxieties and joy, Alternate bliss, by turns destroy : Yet on the prospect tempts to move, And pierce the labyrinth of Love ; Whose darling, pleasing, rapt'rous ways, Though mix'd with thorns, each lover sways ; Who, through the mazy thicket runs, While the goal in seeming puns ; While, fagging through delusive ways, He runs, returns, and each assays : When, should but Cupid then be kind, The centred goal at last shall find ; 36 And, by the cause of all our pain, Attainment and reward we gain. The youthful Henry's doating heart Had felt the pang confess'd the smart : But, ere the declaration sprung, Had his keen eye on beauty hung ; Glance shot on glance with am'rous look, Which thus in silent language spoke : Love needs no tongue to tell its tale, No boist'rous sounds to fill the gale ; Its voice demands no listening art : Sensations borne instinctively From soul to soul sincerely fly, Speaking elinguid heart from heart. Puissant love controls the mind, Whose glances beam for ever kind, Without insidious abject art ; And love, intuitively giv'n, Breaths voce-seraphic of heav'n, Speaking elinguid heart from heart. 37 But soon the silent flame of love Did the hot empyrosis prove ; And mutual, obvious reliance Set fear and rivals at defiance. Yet still could Bessy scarcely stray In freedom from the bold assay ; But each insidious votary Would still to lure the maiden try ; Save when the youthful Henry came Then kept they back from fear or shame ; Nor dar'd his prowess they to rise, Nor manly venture for the prize ; Nor dar'd assail the mutual share Of love subsisting 'tween the pair. And still was Montford much expos'd To those whom taunt or insult chos'd ; Whose quick paternal, tender care Was rous'd by ev'ry vulgar air, Which frequent in his ear would jar 1 1 is seat became so popular : 38 Which now (to shun the irksome prate) He did resolve to abdicate ; And be no more, in suppliance, seen TV noted Beggar of Bethnal Green ; But shield fair Bessy from the strife, And end in peace his closing life. At Rumford Montford had a friend, And thither Bessy he did send ; Proposing there too, in secret, From life's assailments to retreat. But there the suitors sprung anew, And four at once the claim renew : A knight was one, who sued and sigh'd ; A 'squire ador'd het in her pride ; A London merchant, who there dwelt, Was th' third, whom Love's ignition felt ; The fourth was son of Montfokd's friend, Who vow'd the passion's smart he ken'd. All these, though rivals, shew no spleen, And woo'd the maiden of the Green ; 39 Yet knew not whence the maiden came, Though all had heard her father's fame : For strictly had old Montford's friend, E'en from his son the clue retain'd ; And, faithful to the Beggar's plan, He calPd her ward she guardian. Thus sigh'd the knight, and woo'd the maid, And strung the trembling serenade: Maiden ! blest with lovely charms, Where can rest the lover find ? Who, but she which gives alarms, Can grant the needful peace of mind ? Then let my ardent vows be paid, And listen to my serenade. Who, though they be beset with fear, Would shun the passion's sting to prove ; And plunge in love's attendant care, To share the bliss and joy of love ? 40 Oh ! grant a sweet approving voice, And mutual be the passion giv'n ; One happy word can bid rejoice, And lift my anxious heart to heav'n. Then listen to my serenade, And let my ardent vows be paid. Then said fair Bessy with a grace, Becoming an exalted race " Knight cease to tune the serenade, Nor woo a poor defenceless maid, Whose station is not fitly great, To wed or mingle in high state. Cease then to urge your passion more, To one whose father's ag'd and poor." " Who is he, and where dost he dwell V The Knight rejoined, " fair maiden tell." She then replied, t( He may be seen, And is the beggar of Bethnal Green, 41 In age's reverential grace, (The hope of all the human race.)" Then said the Knight, " Adieu ! Adieu ! For poverty forbids to woo." Then next the 'squire with ardour came, To serenade and feed the flame. Smiling springs the face of May, Lightly hangs the fragrant belf, The lily o' the vale's array, The hyacinth aside the dell. But, what can please, or genial prove Except the smiles and voice of love f* Mellow chants the pleasing thrush, Larks ascending fill the gale, Linnets melodize the bush, Plaintive sighs the nightingale. 42 But, what can lightly-pleasing move So sweetly as the notes of love ? Twinkling stars and thin-horn'd moon, Darkness spread around the globe, Vista's gloomy, cooling boon, Vespa's solitary robe. But, can the night, or eve, or grove Compare with melancholy love ? Beauty on the canvas laid, Sculpture e'en as nature giv'u, Fancy seraphic array'd, Feeble thoughts of graceful heav'n. But, what can bid the heart approve If when compar'd with her I love? Then the Merchant next succeeds The vocal 'squire, and thus proceeds : 43 Harmonic notes ! attend, the pleasing lyre, Silent as death, but vocal at command ; The mystic chords of living hidden fire, Demands the silent will and skilful hand. But touch the chord ! The sounds accord With all the wishes of the heart, Small as silence, loud as love, Quick and sighing, plaintive rove, The mystic vocal voice of art. Sighing, loving, sad I sit. Maiden rise and Morpheus quit. $ I touch, I fill, the sweet mellifluous lyre, Fair listen, cheer, and bless the pleasing strain ; Love attunes, and love shall still inspire, While fear shall flee, and smiles shall quell my pain. Fair, canst thou tell, Why Philomel, 44 Laments so sadly o'er her fate ? Because her love is silent still, Stubborn love will have its will, So mourn 1 now thy silent hate. Rise from Morpheus, say I'm blest, Grant ! for he denies me rest. But like the knight with all his love, The maid's reply did obvious prove ; That charms, without the needful ore, Were Merit's sister, shun'd when poor ; Expos'd, like flow'rets, without aid, Pluck'd but to taste then cast to fade. Alone the guardian's son did prove, A foe to interested love. And disregardful of revile, He sought the maiden's pleasing smile. But, e'er she came, this J anus's son, Had woo'd a fair, and favour won. 45 But now engross'd by Bessy's charms, The maid was left to quench alarms ; For now no more her lover came, Her favour, smHes, and vows to claim. Vex'd at the slight, as quick as strange, She smothers love and vows revenge : Designing hence to make him feel, Love's jealous barb and poignant steel ; And in the midst of 'vengeful spleen, She sought the maid of Bethnal Green. But on her way to vent her rage, She met her lover's youthful page ; When, more by chance than by design, Learn'd all her wishes could divine. For, on the tapis of perform, She learn'd o'er Bessy hung a storm : Which, while the nigher it did pend, The better would promote her end. " Fair maid," exclaim'd the slighted fair, "" Alarm'd in haste, I now repair ; 46 You live in danger! and this night, Your foes will bear you in their flight. At nought he sets your guardian, And bears you start not faithless man. Ah ! be not forc'd a villain's wife, Who e'en, perhaps, designs your life." The Beggar's daughter scarce could stand, So sudden came th' alarm to hand. Then," said the maid, " from whom and why, Thus dooms my woes, whose foe am I ? Disclose, and grant thy tender aid, Ah, shield ! oh ! shield an orphan maid." Her nerves relax, at harsh alarms She sunk into the Sappho's arms. Beauty ! how heighten'd when distrust ; How sweetly sad's the aiding breast ; How lost and wand'ring opes her eye ; How breaks the short reviving sigh ; How lax the tongue attempts to speak ; How slow the rose resumes the cheek ; 47 How sweet the pink relays the lip ; How chasing tears, like crystal, drip ; How timid th' inquiries meet the ear : But, oh ! how sweet to sooth her fear. " Cease," said the harsh and injured maid, When Bessy own'd th' inspiring aid, Arrest thy weakness, quell thy fear, And calmly lend a list'ning ear. Now, quickly let us change array, Nor venture hence to needless stray ; And leave the rest to me and know, That counteraction stops thy woe." Emboldened by the daring tone, In which the injur'd maiden shone, In willingness she chang'd her dress, In hopes to shun a worse distress ; And, timid as the roe she lay, And shunn'd the sight of man or day ; While hence the eager maiden ran, To bate her lover with the plan. 48 And in the eve and dusky grove, She musing, pensive, seem'd to rove, Veil'd (as the maiden of the Green, In modest charms was always seen.) The guardian's sou and aiding gang, In haste upon the maiden sprang, And bore her hastily away, Who screaming, fill'd th' echoing way ; But near the vehicle was plac'd, In which they sprung, and on they chas'd. Which when the other suitors knew, They all in haste and fury flew ; For they were wont at eve to stray, And mark the maiden in her way ; And quickly gave the scheme pursuit, Fir'd at the daring, youthful suit. On rapidly the parties go, Till they came to Stratford le Bow ; Where, on a head, the maid they spy, And on elatedly they fly. 49 O'erta'eu, the youth secures his prey, And nungled in the wild affray ; knight, merchant, 'squire, each dealt his blow, While fury flush'd the youthful beau ; Who manly dar'd the adverse fight, Till wounded sunk the gallant knight, And would have match'd the other two, But to the fight young Henry flew ; Who saw the 'fray, and, 'mid the scene, Th' apparent maiden of the Green : And, mingling with the striving train, Soon spread some breathless on the plain ; When hastily in fear retire, The knight, the merchant, and the 'squire. But to the contest furious ran, The son of Bessy's guardian ; Whom the true lover of the maid, In gallant style supinely laid, And sprung to sooth the frighted fair, Who seem'd absorb'd in breathless fear. D 50 But while he 'tended to the dame, The youth recover'd, tott'ring came, When how did both surprise assail, When smiling, she uplift her veil ! The faithless gallant hid his face, And then confest deserv'd disgrace ; And vow'd, no more he'd faithless prove, But grant her all his soul and love. 51 CANTO II. Now at Clay-Hall, a festive day, Together drew the great and gay ; Where Ford, an ancient noble lord, Spread the inviting, flowing board, Who annual gave (this chanc'd in Lent) An open house to all that went, Commemorative of his birth, To toast, enjoy, indulge in mirth ; And English hospitality, Made welcome all of each degree. But that the great might not complain, Of mixing with the plebeian train, D 2 52 The saloon held the haughty guests The hall contains the humble breasts. It was upon this jovial day, Where youth and fashion held their sway, That 'mong the rest the Beggar went, In good becoming habiliment. A little boy conducts the way, (A substitute for visual ray) Who artless, inconsiderate, Intrudes the Beggar on the great ; Mistook the saloon for the hall, Much to the merriment of all. But all this laughter and high glee, The Beggar took for jollity ; And all thought from his demeanour, He lack'd not birth, though he was poor ; For thus was held the man of sport, (The gen'ral topic of report) That he was some one in disguise, Whose fall had doff'd his fortune's rise. 53 But much ere long the sportive wim Increas'd the voice at Bacchus' shrine ; And one whom wrath and pride did swell, Propos'd the Beggar to expel, Who now was conscious of mistake, Uprose, apology to make ; But still the knight in boist'rous tone, Apology admits of none ; And still did galling language roll, Which rous'd the Beggar's manly soul, Who to the knight then boldly spake, Whom wine and passion much did shake. Then said the Beggar, " If your face, You saw reflected in a glass, How would you passion's gust despise, (I see the cast, though dark my eyes.) And then the mirror of the heart Hold up, and see if 'tis man's part, To cast reflection on a man, Though blind, to .stand your equal can d 3 54 And will." Which bold expressive tone, Still made the knight more deeper frown. While all the guests with minds elate, In anxious, silent wonder sate, To hear the Beggar and the knight, Uphold the contest of despite. The Beggar not a little gain'd, His part with temper he maintain'd ; And much their past opin ion cleared That he was more than he appear'd. And with each guest^s applause elate, Then Montford did retaliate. " What makes you knight to scorn the man, Whom, who to alter, dare or can ; Take off your title, bear your name, And can you (not I) manhood claim. Worth makes us great, and worth alone, And without greatness there is none. Wealth too much is estimated, By which false scale man oft is rated. 55 Though bate the bonus Fortune gives, The poor man's heart as upright lives. Cease, then, and view my silver hairs, The fruit of wisdom and of years. Then view my furrows, ask your heart, (If active sympathy has part) If you can hope such to attain, \\ ithout the reverence to gain. When the hand shakes, the eyes grow dim, Th' efforts feeble, and the tendons slim ; Is that the stage you would despise ; And cast upon unsightly eyes ? But since you rate by poverty, And geld not worth's your sanctity. Now, knight, I draw you to the list, Not tilt or tournament you wist. But'fore your friends, or 'fore your foes, I'll match your gold and greatest throws ; Provided what is here now thrown Shall not be borrow'd, but your own. n 4 And let the man that shews most gold, Most worth and estimation hold." The knight with wonder 'gan to stare, Who thought the Devil match'd him there ; And the laughter's louder din, lncreas'd his knighthood's sad chagrin. Yet pride too great to set down calm, And let the Beggar bear the palm ; He thought his pockets might contain An ample store the prize to gain ; For he had there an added store, To distribute among the poor. Then out an angel drew the knight, The Beggar's shin'd as good and bright ; All eyes attentive, sparkled glee, The Beggar smil'd, though blind was he ; The knight producing and the store Of Montford doubled as it bofe, Till far outvi'd, the knight cried " Hold," But still the Beggar braudish'd gold, 57 Who now uprose to quit his seat, And leave his victory complete. But such applause the Beggar gain'd, That by reqnest he still remain'd, While reconciled ; the knight allay'd His pride, and to the Beggar paid The homage due to fallen worth, Which leaves unstain'd its fairer birth. Thus, right and triumph is combin'd Of strength, philosophy of mind, Which wrongs and injuries sustains Unshaken, and its cause maintains, And feels a conscious glow at heart, Which buoys the soul, sustains its part. 'Tis merit's champion and friend, But never vice's cause attend ; Or ever by the weak is felt, Or by the conscious soul of guilt. Who never feels that pleasing glow, Which conscious rectitude can know ; d 5 58 Which like the morn's engaging blush, Or like the evening's soothing hush, Upsprings and sets in beauties gay, And peaceful night succeeds the day. Now had all party rage assuag'd, And Mo nt ford all th' attention 'gaged, While hearty jokes pervade the scene, The toast, " The Maid of Bethnal Green ;" When loud arose the host's request, And seconded by ev'ry guest, That he would now with willing soul Divulge his tale, to crown the whole : Which, with a seemly diffidence, He gave : Attention mark'd suspense. He said, " I hear that Time's decay, Hath swept another king away ; And now exempt from enemy, My tale with freedom I descry. "As spring's the morn,I rose to life With ev'ry beaming prospect rife ; 59 Fame went before, and Fortune smil'd, And seem'd to mark me as her child. But bow the fates occlude my sight, And death alone can give me light. " The Earl of Leicester, proud I own My sire in me behold the son. That famous Earl, whose warlike soul, Was fierce and stubborn as the pole ; Who, with the royal barons, saw The proud Poictevin's favour draw, Who, at the fickle Henry's court, Held haughty sway, commanding port, Excluding thence the native rights, Which jealousy in all excites, And whom has nature not suppli'd With rights to watch with prurient pride ? Whose heart can see his hopes decay With all their heredit'ry sway ? And yet, at ease, look on and smile, While sapping foes enjoy their guile. 60 Who sees fiduciary trust Confided to the sons of lust, And dost not cast a jealous eye, And doubt the foe's fidelity ? For pride, man's ruling fervid crest, Will (and oft rightly) fire the breast. "Thus fickle Henry did dispose Unbounded favour on his foes ; Forgetting those who most did claim The posts of trust, and marks of fame; Whose lives had shar'd the risk of wars, His councils, toils, and fickle cause ; And 'mong the first of friends, my sire, His chief attention did require ; For of his sire, from whom he sprung, - The world in wonder long had rung, Whose fam'd achievements, martial fame, Had taught each child to know his name ; Who o'er th' Albigenses had thrown His terrors and increas'd renown. A base enthusiastic sect, Whom beaten Savoy's plains reject: And where his mighty arm arose, Low sunk in death his country's foes. And from this valiant, virtuous sire, My father gain'd his warlike fire ; And, with the charm, which crowns the whole, Enlightened energy of soul. But as some evil will infest, Ambition nYd his soaring breast, Which, like the whirlpools, ever roll, Insatiate circles to the soul. " The gentle Eleanor's hand My sire espous'd ; who o'er the land Was fam'd for gentleness and grace, And mind, as perfect as her face. From which contract my sire did spring, A brother to the fickle king; And from this kingly couple see Their abject-fated progeny. 62 " Now while the king in heedless train Heap'd courtly honours on the vain, Complaints aloud assail'd the throne, The wav'ring king alive to none ; Who, with a stubborn, erring hand, Spread discontent through all the land, And gave to William de Valence, (A court-ad vent'rer of pretence), Unbounded posts of wealth and gain, Which he by cunning art did strain. The laws were injur'd by evasions, And justice suffer'd by privations, And anarchy, spread through the state, Rous'd party views and jealous hate; And planted in my father's breast, The monarch's feeble sway, to wrest And seize the sceptre from a hand, Which cast oppression on the land. " Then civil war and strife arose And fellow-warriors became foes, 63 And party rage inflam'd the breast, And hcrror rear'd her bloody crest. Each dreadful weapon gleam'd in air, The trumpets blew, and hosts repair ; The curling standards high arose, Which e'er united crush'd their foes ; And madden'd rage, and dreadful shouts Broke from the ranks, and savage scouts : While parties each their troops arraign, And spread with strife the peaceful plain. " First on the Lewes plains I saw The bloody, dreadful scenes of war : For there encamp'd the parties lay, Here, we, and there our foes array. The King, Prince Edward, d'Almain, Commanded the opposing train ; While to our chosen, valiant band, My father gave the chief command. " Morn rose ! gay, deck'd, and spread around A prospect, pleasing and profound. 64 Dews sunk to pearls, like quiv'i ing tears, And zephyr sent her cooling airs. As round the fierce battalions lay, On Lewes' plains sweet morn of May. When first to break the silence round, The challenge-trumpet sent its sound. Then rustling sounds of infantry, And rattling tramp of cavalry With martial music, then the shout Of des'perate onset, and of rout. The groans of dying, wounded men, Which bloodshed then forbids to ken ; And down each rank was seen to fly, Each valiant chief judiciously. Steed rear'd on steed ! rank mix'd with rank ! Hear fought with rear ! and flank with flank ! And near and widely spread afar, Were groans, and shouts, and signs of war. Then youthful blood inflam'd my veins, When panting hope the soul contains 65 The distant plains of warlike arms, Creating life and not alarms; And high my breast increas'd in force, And prurient sprung my warlike horse, Whose panting withers rose on high, W hile jealous fury mark'd his eye. His ears directed, pleas'd to hear, And nostrils spread to snort on fear. While mad to reach the clarion's sound, He paws a furrow in the ground ; When light as air I sprung amain, And let him point, and loos'd the rein. " Proud, thro* each rank great Leicester bore, Whose eye beam'd with martial fulgour : While I, who watch'd each heroic deed, With ardour spurr'd my furious steed. In carnage plung'd! and trod on death, Whose steaming aether fir'd my breath. High rose my arm, I met my foe, And plung'd him headlong down below. 66 Another comes, I burn'd I sigh'd, And strength with danger multiplied ; And battle raged throughout the day, In doubtful strife and bloody fray. Then Fortune smil'd our foes retreat, And left the trophies at our feet. Spoil heap'd on spoil, and gain on gain, My hand secur'd the proud d'Almain. The king our pris'ner, and his son, We joy'd beheld at set of sun. And while the bands victorious play'd, The toils of bloodshed were allayed ; And Fortune seem'd to more than smile, To crown the glories of the toil. " Then came the night, which spread its gloom On many a valiant victim's doom, The council summon'd in the tent, To fix each plan and make comment. Attainment led more to attain, (The common case with every man) 07 But how to preserve gain entire, The greater wisdom doth require. To heal is harder than to wound, To govern kingdoms than to found. The Duke of Gloucester's secret views, The council in dissent imbrues, Who flush'd as Leicester with the day (In both ambition held her sway), Strove to spread a jealous flame, 'Cause Leicester's aim he found the same, In hopes by insidious chicane, The regal sway himself to gain. But Leicester, as increas'd debate, Grew warm. Then sullen Gloucester sate, And like the foe that durst not strike, A sneer convey'd his soul's dislike. Chief frown'd on chief! and either rose From long-tried friends to instant foes ; And, as two lions, in full array, They frown'd, and took an adverse way. 68 Thought broke on thought with 9ullen rage, Retirement swell'd the low'ring page : Their pillow lost its toils esteem, And horrow fill'd the starting dream ; And, unrefresh'd, each chieftain rose With sullen darkness on his brows. " With looks which did the cause evii:ce Gloucester sought th' imprison'd prince ; W T hom sullen in the camp he found, Where the small taper spread around The gloomy light while speechless rests These great opposing, wond'ring guests ; Till Edward ask'd, what secret cause Untimely thus his converse draws ? Who watch'd the ire which rack'd the chief, And scarce could give it his belief, That these two chiefs had drawn the sword Of party strife and gross discord. While stifled joy invests his mind, And fury fanning words, he join'd ; 69 Winch gain'd the desp'rate, jealous chief, Who then engag'd to grant relief, And aid the prince who leagu'd became, To blast the arduous rival's aim. " Then secret from our army sped The rival chief, and with him led The bands o'er which he had command, And left the pris'ners in our hand ; And far away he did retire, With envy rack'd, and burning ire. " Then roll'd events and fortune by, And Edward gain'd his liberty Escap'd his spies, who watch'd his way, Whose courser bore the prince away ; Who, by a lure to run a race, Mounts a fresh steed, and led the chase ; Whose sighs for liberty alone Urg'd the fam'd blood, and wing'd him on, Till far behind his spies remain, Whose horses now refuse the rein. 70 While the bold prince, whom ardour warms, Sprung on, and Gloucester join'd in arms ; Who ere had from our fortune gone, And rais'd aloft his gonfalon ; Whose arms the prince's cause espous'd, Which blasted hopes and ire arous'd ; Whose league alone was plann'd to pall Great Leicester's cause, and work his fall, Which now assum'd a dreadful shape, Beyond all hopes for our escape. " My father o'er Malvenia bore The troops which gain'd him bays before ; While 1 led on a chosen band, Far distant from his wise command A brave reserve his force to join ; But fate forbid it should be mine. For, ere I gain'd th' appointed plain, Where we had plann'd to join our train, The royal troops, my chosen few, By Edward led, engag'd o'erthrew , 71 And few were they of this defeat Surviv'd, to support my retreat. When, faint, fatigu'd, bare, famish'd, lame, We Leicester join'd at Evesham; Whose troops were like his son's and league, With want exhausted and fatigue : Yet courage still did all inflame, Nor were their hopes yet dead to fame. " Then ame the hosts of foot and horse- Foes all ! and mighty were their force, Which cover'd all the lovely vale An host, our handful to assail. Rear follow'd van, and mix'd appears The chieftain's waving plumage rears. The wand'ring Severn's pleasing banks Were cover'd with the num'rous ranks : Shout rose on shout host follow'd host, And danger gather'd round our post. Down his few ranks great Leicester rode ; Harangues from deathless courage flow'd : 72 Each chieftain took an active part ; Man inspir'd man heart cherish'd heart ; And, as the dangers multiply, Each vows each other to outvie : Yet still th' encircling enemy, In endless numbers, multiply. Then first my father's valiant face Describ'd our forlorn, hopeless case ; For scarce did now a hope remain Th' o'erwhelming numbers to sustain. Thus from the earl his feeling rolls : ' Lord ! Lord ! have mercy on our souls ! For, sure as death asserts his name, Destruction hovers round our frame.' Then, as a man who sees a shade, Who for a moment is afraid, Shakes off the idle phantom 'd low'r, And gives his soul to manly pow'r : So, casting off his soul's despair, Inspiring rang th' echoing air ; 73 And, better to secure our ranks, His heroes form'd the firm phalanx ; And, like a lion's couchant pow'r, He watch'd the onset's furious hour. " On, on they rush from ev'ry side Hill, dale, and Severn's glassy tide ! Death rear'd his standard on the plain, The mangled mingled with the slain ; Man fell by chief, and chief by man, Nor aqua down the Severn ran ; Blood-stain'd her liquid, crystal bed, Where groan'd and died the men which bled. Dauntless our little, weaken'd band Sustain'd the charge, and kept their stand ; Nay, more at times they drove the foe, And hew'd out many scenes of woe. Here laid a proud, dismounted chief, Unheeded, lost, without relief; There laid the mangled, groaning foe, Complaining to his fellow woe ; E 74 Here fell the charger 'neath his wound, Then sprung, and snorting bit the ground. Entangled there, the brave horseman, Dragging, the furious charger ran - ? Enfuriate, at the corses bound His heels deal forth the mortal wound ; While glitt'ring blades convey the sun, As the prismatic reflex run ; And shouts and groans commingled roar, Like the dread storm upon the shore. " Thus did determin'd courage stand The shock of thousands, hand in hand ; Till the dark shades of Memphis fell, And spread oblivion o'er the vale. But, ere the darkness fell around, Leicester's proud charger bit the ground ; From whence his rider leap'd amain, And strode, undaunted, o'er the plain ; And where his eye directs its view Th' opposing warrior quickly flew : 75 Death aim'd his blows, and heaps of dead His mighty prowess round him spread; Till streams of perspiration ran, And nature yielded in the man. Exhausted sunk the valiant chief! Each look'd to self, nor gave relief; When, like the bloodhounds, on they rush With thirsty jaws, the chief to crush. Who, faint, for mercy ask'd the foe, No mercy held th' uplifted blow : Pierc'd through the heart, the chieftain fell On Evesham, and stain'd the vale ; Then ceas'd the contest with his life, And night shut in upon the strife. " Then, languid with a dreadful wound, I rose from off the dead-heap'd ground ; A faithful dog alone my friend, Who sought my corse, and did attend ; And, weary with my woeful lot, I sought an honest Welchman's cot e 2 76 Among the lonely mountains' way, Where languishing for weeks I lay. And all the wealth I now retain The humble cottage did contain ; Where, near the scene of mighty dead, I heard each report as it spread ; Which luck'ly spread, as I would fain, That I was number'd with the slain. And there might I in peace have sate ; But who are masters of their fate ? Who can control the secret will ? Heav'n will decree, and will fulfil. " My father's mangled corpse was ta'en From off the heaps of mighty slain, And sent, with all its horrid scars, (A scene unknown in modern wars!) To gentle Eleanor, his bride, Who bow'd to cruel fate, and died. " This, Mortimer did instigate, Which drew me from my safe retreat. 77 I watch'd his steps in secrecy, To explicate the cruelty. A ghost to him I did appear, 1 groan'd, pass'd on, and rous'd his fear. 1 vanish'd to his guilty eyes, Mis terror springing from surprise. Crime, rais'd to him my frowning air To phantoms ideal, vacant stare. Till on one night upon the plain, As Luna shone, nor shone in vam ; I rais'd my form before his view, He stood ! and nearer still I drew. Pale turn'd his cheek uplift his hand ! I call'd, and bid him keep his stand. Like a poor wietch in winter's storm, His chatt'ring teeth beat at my form ; And 'gainst each other smote his knees, And started at each genial breeze. 1 Form' he would have spoke, but could not, No form am I (said I) thou sot. 1 3 78 I am, as you, material, And not a shade of form ideal. Stand and defend ! I madly cried,. Or feel the force of iujui'd pride. Then drew my rapier on the foe, I n vain he warded oft' the blow ; I pierc'd his side he fell, and own'd No cowardice my conduct crown'd ; And sinking prone, with mortal wound, As [ then thought, 1 left the ground. But scarce had I their confines past, Before I heard the trumpet's blast, Alarm, alarm ! spread on the wind, Yet spread no terror to my mind. I had their watch- word at command, And gave the signal with my hand ; And safely pass'd the barrier, And gain'd the cot, 'inong mountains drear. " Now tristful wad my sinking fate, Expos'd to royal, courtiers hate ; 79 Decrees were past to fix my fall, And natal wealth swell'd the fiscal. And Edward swore to be my foe, And heap my head with added woe. Then from Malvenia I fled, Lest vengeance fell upon my head ; Brought wealth enough to make me great, And Bethnal Green became my seat. Yet there not safe from fortune's spite, I lost the blessing of my sight : For, at the fight of Evesham, Oppress'd with warlike ardour's clamm, The Severn's stream, to quench my thirst I drank, a surfeit from it burst, Whence gradual to the fatal day Decay'd the genial visual ray. But ne'er a boon retakes kind Heav'n, But other like supplies are giv'n ; And he that lacks an acute mind, Is more than clouded, more than blind ; 4 80 Besides, what breaks upon the soul Owes nought to outward pow'rs control. Flagitious scenes are spar'd the sight, And I enjoy unchanging light. " Yet still I heard of foes and spies, Who prowl'd to glut my enemies : When long beneath the stately oak, On Bethnal Green, a Beggar took His daily stand, to ask for bread, Of those whom chance and bounty led. Who just as blindness smote my head, Was number'd with the silent dead. I had resort in spite of shame, And begg'd to gain a Beggar's name ; Lest my secluded life had sprung, The hint to spies the sland'rous tongue. An infant daughter's cries appeaPd, Whom yet, though blind, I hoped to shield ; Which though my stratagem was new, The scheme seem'd inark'd out to pursue. 81 Whence, whether good or ill result, The future, patient I consult. And now hath time's slow sure decay, Swept my sworn foes and fears away ; And henceforth view me m my sphere, As Leicester's son and Leicester's heir." When ended thus the aged man, Joy through the guests in concord ran ; Caress'd he rose and left the board, To honour and to fame restor'd. e 5 82 CANTO III. Then rais'd to due degree and state, Fair Betsy shone completely great. No chaste enamel mates her grace, No sculptur'd symmetries outpace ; No roseate tinctures, tender dies, No bloom of eve's her blush outvies ; No Sylvan's voice, more sweetly sings, No poean more seraphic springs ; No smile's more lovely than her own, No air's so fit to grace a throne ; No heart's more lofty, humble, sweet, No sense more good, refin'd, or great ; 83 Fair as snow upon the lawn, And tinctur'd lightly as the morn. Abash'd then shrunk the abject train, Whose loves were proffer 'd but to stain. Aw'd, fled the votaries of lust, Confessing that her life was just ; And left her with a spotless name, Reward of virtue deathless fame. Long had young Henry sought the maid, Long had he justice to her virtues paid, Long had he strove her heart to move, Long had he shar'd the maiden's love ; Long had the secret fann'd the flame, Long were their mutual hearts the same ; Long had the speechless tokens giv'n, The sign and destiny of Heav'n. Yet there attended lovers fate, A rival, of importance great, A noble lord profess'd his love, And whom the Beggar did approve ; 84 Unwitting, that his daughter's heart, Confess'd ere now the lover's smart. This lord e'en prides him that he reins The maiden's heart in Cupid's chains. His devoirs paid, with haughty pride, And bashful thought her when denied. Which oft she gave with due disdain, Yet nought persuades him from his pain ; But like a youthful chevalier, Disdain'd all checks, or jealous fear. The love the stripling entertain'd, Long secret to the Blind remain'd ; Until the noble lord had seen, The lover lead her o'er the Green, In am'rous, mutual, tender care, Which now explain'd her adverse air ; And jealousy enflam'd his heart, At rival's conquest, rival's art. Flush'd at his balk, with added gear, Resounds the tale in Mo NT fords ear ; 85 Surpris'd he heard the rival's tale, And doubts if truth his ears did hail. Uncertain if the devotee Was base, or mean, or good degree. No secret e'er, she kept her own, But all her soul to him was known. Perplex'd, surpris'd, in doubt, and blind, He anxious sought to ease his mind, Then meeting with the tender maid, Old Montford all his fears assay'd. Reprov'd the secret of her heart, Which had awoke parental smart ; Yet temper guided his reprove, Nor yet forbid her secret love. (Which she with sweetest innocence, Did clear from guilt in ev'ry sense ; For nature's sympathy doth prove, That secrets are the laws of love.) Yet when his titles he did claim, She blush'd her ignorance of the same ; 86 Which had not yet, love sought to prove. So confidant is real love. And simply Henry was the name, On which she built her lover's fame ; Which still increas'd the Beggar's fears, To him a mystery appears. Yet when he heard the lover came, With all the pomp the nobles claim : Who, to keep his station whist, All his attendants he dismiss'd, Ere nigh to Bethnal Green he came, Approaching with an humble name Still further rose the mystery, Who could the gallant suitor be ; Who thus his noble stations bland, To gain the Beggar's daughter's hand. Then the lord who sued the maid, Against the lover's love inveigh'd. And in the secret of his breast He vows to wound the lover's rest - r 87 And, meditating 'vengeful ires, From the pathetic scene retires ; When panting with his high-swoln breath r His rival meets on Stebon heath ; When now to gain his mystic name He first directs his wily aim ; And bowing with due courtesy, Points out the closing ev'ning sky ; Enquir'd from whence his course he bent, And whither late his path he went ; When, clashing on the lord a frown, He answer'd not, but passed on ; For well he knew his foe's intent, Though strange suppos'd, and ignorant. And swift away as any wight, His charger bore him from the sight. High boil'd the rival courtier's blood, Who stound, still eyed the gallant's road, Till round the shades of Vespa spread The heath, as silent as the dead. 88 Thought roll'd on thought in furious fit, When near approach'd a small banditt, Whose shrilling whistle caught his ear, The sign of blood and danger near ; Around he sprung upon his toe, To eye the danger and the foe ; Put in the spur, prepar'd for flight, Nor risk the mad unequal figh t. And on his speed did safety gain, When villainy inspir'd his brain. His purpose bad ! at his command Designs to use this murd'rous band. Back turns the chief, the villains hail, Expecting nought but dire assault ; When all surpris'd ! perceive him stand, Dismount, and take the leader's hand. Silence pervades the dastard crew, Who stounded dumb the chieftain view, Who. " Dare ye at this evening's disk Plunge into strife, and danger risk." 39 Then placing in the leader's hand A purse, which ever can command, A league was form'd, a league as base As could bemean the human race. But, what will human nature do, When checks and passion cloud the view; When int'rest guides the wily bent, When goodness stoops to vile intent ; When leading passions basely sway, When justice, reason, fly away ; When lust hath conquest o'er the soul, When but depravities control ; When spite and envy, wicked art, Usurp the sway and lead the heart. Midwhile th' unknown lover paid His manly devoirs to the maid ; Soul mixt with soul, concordant love, The witness'd truth ascends above. The meaning glance, the tender look, Unbounded scope of language spoke ; 90 While passion, aiding potent eyes, Cemented hearts in valid ties. Then Bessy first implor'd the guest, To ease her aged parent's breast ; His assent gain, and sooth his fear, By casting off his borrovv'd sphere. To which comply he quickly gave, Who can withstand when lover's crave I But first 'twas needful that a ring Confirming talisman, he bring , Which, in a menial's trusty care He left, and now must thence repair ; Who in the neighb'ring village staid, While he disguised addresses paid ; Who now in love the fair embrac'd, Proposing to return in haste. Scarce parted had the lovers been, Ere the banditti sought the Green, With purpose to assault the pair, To smite the beau, and steal the fair \ 91 Expecting there to find them stray, In heedless love along the way ; Or seated in some neighb'ring bovv'r Sipping the sweets of Vespa's hour. But all was mute and hush'd around, No lover's voice convey 'd its sound j No heedless victim to surprise, No brave defender of his prize ; No am'rous couple to distract, No pow'r to raise the dreadful act. In ratiocination stand, This haggard, tatter'd, rawly band, Who, since the destin'd prize was fled, Resolve to act some part instead. Their wily dictates overstrain, The strangers promis'd boon to gain ; When all agree the maid to seize, And Montford too the liege to please : For Montford walking with the fair, To recreate in evening's air, 92 Unconscious of the ambush laid, ' Near to the crew of danger stray 'd ; Who seiz'd the aged, guiltless blind, While the maid of woe they bind ; Who breathless, fainting, sunk with fear, Could not engage a ruffian's ear ; Nor could the wond'ring, sightless man, Replies to any questions gain ; But on they sped, a brutal hoard, To gain the promis'd guilt's reward. But how were they with fury flown ! When hence they found the donor gone ; Who had agreed to wait return, Of occult proof the prize they earn \ Who now o'ercharg'd with useless prize, Loud on the winds their curses rise ; And in a hut beside the waste, The lovely charge and sire they plac'd ; And o'er the heath they took their way, And left to fate the fruitless prey. 93 Meanwhile in expectation burns The youthful lover, and returns. But, strange! no fair one meets his eye, But either way domestics fly ; For one had seen the villains' speed, Unable to o'erthrow the deed ; When fierce the stranger quickly flew, To rouse his menials and pursue ; And each pedestrian he arraigns, But fruitless were his active pains. In the small mean secluded hut, The trembling fair and sire were put ; He, from the loss of visual ray, Could not explore the lonely way ; She, anxious for her parent dear, Dar'd not proceed from female fear. In tender sympathy the maid Th' anticipating man allay'd ; Held his bald head with tender care, While from her eye distill'd the tear ; 94 *- She kisa'd his aged cheek so kind, 'Twould sooth the most absorbed mind ; And cheer'd the tedious, lonely hour By every captivating pow'r. But 'mid this scene arose her dread, For near approach'd the hasty tread : 'Twas dark, and howl'd the rustling wind, Uncertain they what was design'd ; But how was joy arous'd from fear, When they their faithful Phillis hear. Their aged dog! in anxious heat, Who fawn'd andlick'd his master's feet Then, as if tempting them to stray, Win'd, left the hut to lead the way. But they were fearful lest the band Were still in ambush near at hand ; And rather chose to wait till day, Than risk the danger of the way. But faithful to sagacious love, On still the dog did anxious move ; 95 Aud knowing well the stranger-guest, And whom she met in anxious quest, By howls and barking she did lead The wond'ring stranger o'er the mead ; Who, at each step, expects to rind The mangled fair one and the blind : But in the poor deserted shed, In which the moon her influence shed, He found the parent, and the fair Absorb'd in tenderness and care. He sprung embrae'd the lovely maid, Then gave to Mo nt ford all his aid; Who, when he heard the youth, proclaim'd The lover who his daughter claim'd. He anxious sought relief to find, For doubts which hung upon his mind ; But when he would this tale have known, The stranger thence was lost and gone ; And only there to guard remain, The Beggar's own domestic train ; 90 And now once more in doubt remain'd, The tale already thought attain'd. But ere Aurora grac'd the scene, The pair return'd to Bethnal Green; And lost was Montford to assign From whom arose the scheme malign, .Till all the blame was archly thrown Upon the rival youth unknown ; Whom the rival courtier fain, With obvious obliquy would stain, And press'd the sire, (to gain the prize) The ritual deed to solemnize. But Bessy, with resistless air, Implor'd her sire her peace to spare ; Nor sacrifice domestic meed By a rash act, or biass'd deed, And press'd her sire to peace retain, Till from the youth the tale he gain; For 'twas but chance enjoin'd the maid, Which from his ear the whole delay'd ; 97 And not the dread of scrutiny Which made him doubt, or fearful fly ; Which scarce th' imploring maid had spoke, E'er on the sight the stranger broke ; And o'er the rival courtier spread The mark of shame th' increasing red : SufYus'd with blush, he dar'd not fly, Nor durst he meet his rival's eye. Then came the subject-mystery, In honest guise and manly glee ; No longer doff d to habit plain, But the gallant gay chieftain ; While all his gay domestics range, And mark the greatness of his change. While the gallant's eye did roll Deep in his adversary's soul, Who, to cloak his villainy, Flash'd on the youth a bolder eye, Mix'd with the guilty villain's frown, In which temerity is shewn. F 98 When in this silent interval, The Beggar did attention call, Who to the youth did thus assay : " Youth hence, nor dare you here to stay ; Else look for vengeance on your head, For your late base marauding deed ; Bear hence your hoard nor dare to stay, Or die a victim to your prey : For though you came to grant us aid, First by your soul the scheme was laid ; Then skulk'd away in mean disguise, All a vain shew to gain the prize." " Sire," the conscious youth enjoin'd, Dismiss all bias from youi mind ; Though taught to brand me with the deed, Yet will I stand in justice free'd. I left the hovel on the heath, To chase the murd'rous band of death ; Of whom a victim of their prey, Describ'd their rout, and led the way ; 99 When one secui'd of fearful soul, Divulg'd the secret of the whole ; And yonder doth my rival stand, Subjected to the shameful brand. And further, to confirm the plan, At hand a witness is the man; A confirmation of the truth." Then forth his sabre drew the youth, And call'd the sland'rer forth to try, The times chief honour valiancy. But well he knew the valiant youth Had most of prowess and of truth ; Nor dar'd to venture further fame, But tied to shun a further shame ; First asking of the valiant chief, From vengeance and pursuit relief ; Whose magnanimity of heart, His rival suffer'd to depart. Then e'er the Beggar cares remove, Or grants the youthful stranger's love, F 2 100 Requires on what pretences he, Th' accepted suitor now should be, Since mystery involv'd his name, E'er since a suitor he became. " Dwells yet," the youth with joy enjoin'd, " Dwells yet your faculties of miud ? If so, your memory can hail, Evesham's bloody, warlike vale." At which, adown the veteran, The tears of sad rememb'rance ran ; Which quick, away he manly sped, And prurient bade the youth proceed. u There fought my sire, your father's friend, You knew the horrors and the end ; To a small cot secluded from the view, He placed his treasure and withdrew ; And as a poor Malvenian boor, He all the toils of hardship bore ; And there the Earl of Leicester came, Ere flow'd his blood on Evesham ; 101 .And plac'd his treasure 'neath his care If chance he should survive the war. Then Leicester sought the doubtful chance, Which war throws in the pois'd balance ; And in the heat of battle's roar He recognized his faithful boor ; But not a boor, as e'er he thought, But one who long his cause had fought. And when the dreadful strife did spring, Leicester gave the youth his ring ; When shortly after, on the plain He sunk among the valiant slain ; And when the Earl the victors slew, My sire in hopeless cause withdrew With Leicester's son, who in one night Withdrew, and urg'd the single fight ; O'erthrew his foe, and secret fled, And now my father joins the dead ; But ere he died renown pertain'd, And wealth and royal favour gain'd." F 3 102 " Son of my friend," exclaim 'd the man, While down his cheeks the tears ran, '* I well remember what you say, When youthful nre adorn'd my day. But art thou son of that brave man Who led the proud Malvenian clan ? If so, the maiden welcome have, Son of my friend ! son of the brave !" Then from its casket he did bring The well remember'd Leicester ring, Which the blind man in joy did feel, While filial tears did down him steal ; And, joining both their hands in one, Proclaim'd young Henry as his son ; Who joy'd, embrac'd the tender fair, Now Montford's son, and Montford's heir. Soon were perform'd the solemn rites, And mutual love the match excites ; Joy crown'd the union of their hearts, And happiness its charm imparts. 103 But soon the Beggar 'neath his years, Sunk on the brink where ceases cares; And, satisfied with bounteous Heav'n, For ev'ry blessing it had giv'n : And having seen his daughter blest With ev'ry good by life possess'd ; Protected as a virtuous bride Smil'd on the pair, and bless'd his God, and died, F4 PASTORALS. F O SPRING. THE FIRST PASTORAL; OK, i5EGON. First in these lawns I sing Arcadian strains, Nor blush to sing on Albion's fertile plains. Flow gentle streams, unblest with pompous names, As far-fam'd Po, or fairer honour'd Thames ; Thy banks with osiers tremble in the gale, And vernal echoes melodize the vale. Ye, whom the fates by secret laws ordain To noble birth, and all th' expanding train By station form'd above the humble reed, . Be greater still, and as ye gain, proceed. 108 1 fere, in these plains, permit the Pandean shrill To rill the valley, echo round the hill; Or on the lyre, if rural lays I sing, Grant that my hand may touch the trembling string ; And, while the chords symphonious fill the air, Forsake the couch to native shades repair ; Be charm'd, be still, and hear th' aerial choir, While vernal airs to echoing sounds respire. The dews of morn had sunk upon the grass, And num'rous, trembling, crystal drops emass, When two young swains, whom love did much bemuse, Led forth their flocks amid the pearly dews. Blythe as the East, and as Vertumnus fair, Their fleecy flocks and loves alone their care. The mountains gleam, Aurora spreads her dies, Thus Damon sung, and Hylas thus replies: DAMON. See, vfhile our flocks the verdant meadows graze, Aurora sets, the blushing hill's on blaze, 109 And hear, my Hylas, how th' aerial choirs Attune their lays, while silent rest our lyres. Here let us sing, doth Hylas so approve ? Since I nor mourn, nor thou a faithless love. HYLAS. Strike up; and JEgon shall approve the song, And give the prize to whom it shall belong. I stake my hive of young industrious bees, Against your ewe, or stake what else you please. 'Tis not from av'rice that this contest springs, For trifling prizes Hylas always sings. DAMON. Not for yon ewe, alas ! it is not mine, And if you win, 1 cannot make it thine. But my young tree I stake, which you must own Is just as fine as ever yet was grown. We'll sing by turns, while op'ning vi'lets spring, The sylvan muses so alternate sing. 110 .EGON. Begin. HYLAS. Inspire me in my Melia's praise, And twine around my brows immortal bays ; Then Spencer's strains, or Pope's sweet warbling flow Shall sound to ev'ning's blush and morning's glow. DAMON. Fair Sypria thou shalt all my song inspire Sypria and love shall swell the warbling lyre ; And all the hills, and vales, and groves, and flood, Shall nod and laugh beneath the pleasing load. HYLAS. My tender Melia shall obtain the prize, And make my song triumphant as her eyes ; If my fair song can match her lovely charms, Collina's self cannot awake alarms. Ill DAMON. What sweet perfumes from Hybla's scented heath Will dare to rival with my Sypria's breath, What lamb's so playful, or what ewe's so tame ? Sypria and innocence are still the same. HYLAS. My Melia rivals all the blushing spring, Vallonia hears, and echoes fainter sing. If chill iEolus drives the drivling rain, T'afford her shelter rushes ev'ry swain. DAMON. If Sypria smiles, what beauties then adorn, Her cheeks assume the blushes of the morn. If Sypria mourns, what muse would not repine ? When twinkling stars forget the genial trine. HYLAS. My Melia scorns to act the coquette's part, Or take delight to wound a shepherd's heart. 112 No sky, however pure with aether bound', Is like her heart with purest virtue crown'd. DAMON. If my fair Sypria wanders through the grove*. How gently coo the milk-white turtle doves. If my fair Sypria wanders o'er the plains, I wander there the happiest of the swains., HYLAS. If my fair Melia chance ascend the hills, The silv'ry trout forsake the crystal rills ; Her ewes all know her soul's the first of loves, And bleating follow as the goddess moves. DAMON. Some lovers' absence racking feelings move, But Sypria, absent, is the same in love ; No early blooms can boast so great a prize, As Sypria's pinky cheek and hazel eyes. 113 HYLAS. Tell me, young Damon, (*tis of noted fame) Which is the flower that bears a warrior's name ? If this you tell, the hive shall be your prize, I'll only claim the charms of Melia's eyes. DAMON. Yet tell me first, the name of a small flow'r Which witches kill if pluck'd in midnight hour ? If this you solve, that tree, my choice and pride, Shall then be yours, and Sypria too beside. *GON. Surcease, young shepherds, further to contend, Let mutual friendship give the song an end. I little thought a match so aptly join'd Could in two swains so nicely be combin'd. The lark descends. The sun o'ertops the bow'rs, The hungry dogs well know the foodful hours, 114 Now rise, and each repass the shallow rill ; For see, your loves descend yon blushing hill. A fruitful show'r will shortly 'fresh the plain, Haste to your loves, your flocks I'll save from rain. SUMMER. THE SECOND PASTORAL; OR, ZETUS. Young Zetus, love-crost, melancholy swain, Expert in music and th'enchanting strain, Beneath a shade the British oaks afford, Pour'd forth his moan, and echoes bore each word. Is this unkind, Rusina ? my return, Must love and thee bid all my heart to burn ? And thus alone must I disturb the shade, With plaints of hardships, and by love betray 'd ? These deep dark vistas of the woods display The pending gloom, which o'er my senses play 116 Yon twining ivy up the rough barks creep, And with the dews of morn still gently weep ; Like those sweet, clinging, tender, gay woodbines The canker-worm of love my heart entwines. My sheep recline, and court the mountain's shade. The sun casts umber on each cheek display'd. Nor thou, Rusin a, kindly dost ordain, To bless one hope, or sooth despairing pain. The scorching heat with songsters fills the grove, They press'd with heat, and I consum'd with love. They court the shade, and revel in thick trees No shade has love to grant me wanted ease. If willing ears th'obdurate maid would lend, The passion's art would surely, surely bend ; Yet she, with scorn, alike my love and tale, Averts her head, and gives them to the gale. Yon hateful brook, which- oft reflects her face, And shews each beauty in the liquid glass, Obstructs my peace, and fills her head with pride Yet she alone adorns the woodland's side. 117 Ah ! lovely maid, I can perceive thy cot O'er yonder thorn a lovely, verdant spot ! My rival's yoke I see ascend the hill, Whose sturdy oxen fallow uplands till ; I see the herds which happier shepherds keep : But I must mourn, and to the woodlands weep ; And all the flow'rs, the sweet product of spring, Must droop and die, while I too, drooping, sing. The tender lilies must unheeded blow, The vi'lets, pale, must all their sweets forego ; The fragrant thorn must wither in the gale, And I must fall within the dying pale. Ah ! Zetus, wretched, sad, despairing sWairt! What shall allay while love supports thy pain ? And fair Rusina all my gifts refuse The thick-wove garland, or my sprightly muse r The tender cresses from the brook I bring ; Nor cresses for the fair Rusina spring. Ah ! cruel creature, what dost thou despise ? I am not frightful, nor are cross my eyes : 118 My voice is good 1 make the mountains ring ; What could I more, if I were born a king ? Late in the spring with Corydon I strove, And not a bird remain'd within the grove ; Pan left the woods to hear my tuneful reeds, And all admir'd as on my lay proceeds. The herds left grazing in a mighty drove ; The joyous lambs skipt playful as 1 strove ; And, when the contest gave me all the prize, The ev'ning's blush seem'd joyous in the skies. Besides all this, I have a num'rous herd Twelve lusty steers as ever trod a yard ; As many heifers, and as many cows, And twenty goats, and fifty thrifty ewes ; One bull I have, as fine as e'er was bred, With nimble heels, and with a hornless head : Yet all this wealth is not so great a prize As sweet Rusina, and Rusina's eyes. Ah ! fly me not, sweet fair one ! fly not me ; Yet, will is thine, and it must still be free. 119 More easy 'tis to brave the torrid sun, Than sink beneath relentless love undone : I sound these reeds, and touch th' iEolian lyre, But other charms this cold, fair maid require ; And panting, sinking, dying, I must roam : Ye sighing gales are deaf to ev'ry groan ; Ye warbling linnets ! why so light and gay ? Cease, cease ! thy notes accord not with my lay. Ye, humming bees ! upon industrious tour, With purport visit ev'ry fragrant flow'r. Ye doves ! which bill in am'rous mutual love, Let not a charm forsake this blissful grove. Ye violets, lilies, daffodils ! arise Ye lose no lovers, and ye heave no sighs. Browse on, my lambs ! unconscious of thy swain ; Ye streamlets ! murmur through the myrtle plain. Wave, distant crops of infant-bearded corn ! Reflect thy gold ere comes the sportsman's horn ; Breathe all around in agricult'ral charms ! 'Tis not for me for love my soul disarms. 120 Stray, lovers ! stray, and listen to each sound Of tender accents in each other bound. By little acts do mighty parts to please : The world's an uproar and a passing breeze ; We cannot tell from whence it first arose, Nor can we tell how far, or whence it goes. Love has no bounds 'tis like the great expanse We guess its causes, and construe by chance : It comes, like storms, unask'd and rages, till It either clears the air, or mortals kill. I sink forlorn! Rusina, hear my cries! Rusina ! hear, before sad Zetus dies! AUTUMN. THE THIRD PASTORAL; ox, AUFREB & HENRY. A brook, re-murm'ring from a sourceful stream, Awoke the rustic song, inspir'd the theme : There had two mournful shepherds met at eve, To share their sorrows, and in love to grieve. Though oft from trifles, springs of sorrow flow, (Which oft are but imaginary woe) : Alfred here mourn'd a slight, small cause to grieve ; But Henry wail'd a loss beyond retrieve. On Cantabrigian plains. Arcadian fire Infuse with wisdom, and the lute inspire ; G 122 As sage Theocritus receiv'd the flame, Or modern Pope of Windesorian fame. Oh ! Muse of Nature ! thou (whom equal can) Observe the passions, pains, of rustic man. The length'ning shadows slant along the plain, And now to bathe bright Phoebus seeks the main ; An amber plain o'erskirts the purple hill ; Above the amber fleecy clouds distil ; And next the blushing clouds comes aether's blue- Thence all the east is fill'd with gath'ring dew. 'Twas thus when Alfred first began to 'wail ; His sighs were gentle gentle was the gale. " Arise, light breezes ! whisper to my song ; Or boist'rous blow, if Phoebe suffers wrong. The eve lulls labour still I labour sore, And undeserv'd resentment I deplore. A slight offence awoke my Ph pacity of the young cuckoo, who flutters and receives his food from the united efforts of the tender parents, whom he devours when he has attained a certain age. 233 Page 18 ; line 7, 8. Here mirth and joy inspiring Jills each breast, When Whitsuntide displays the village feast, &c. The circumstances here detailed are the actual scenes of what they terra the village feast, in a small but delightful village in Cambridgeshire. Page 19 ; line 7, 8. Here Dives lives from pride and envy free, Whose grounds are open to simplicity, &c. &c. This is likewise a description of a scene absolutely in existence, though not really centred in a village with the rest of the imagery of this poem, li is the residence of a rich and worthy man, who allows his grounds to be enjoyed by the merry, jocose, and order of all degrees, in whose sweet grounds are de- lightful walks, and a tasteful labyrinth; and, " For more retin'd and deep reflecting minds," there is a sweet, gloomy shrubberry, and one par- 234 ticular spot completely encircled by a diversity of lofty trees, which exclude all by the horizontal light; in which are seats, which the luxuriant foilage em- bowers, and renders completely the spot for medi- tation. Page 25. The blind Beggar of Bethnal Green. Bethnal Green was once a hamlet of Stepney,, from which it was separated in the year 1 743, and is now a distinct parish. It is situated on the north- west of the metropolis. On the Gree i is a public- house, bearing the sign of the " Blind Beggar ;" and the well-known Kallad, on which this poem is found- ed, was written in the reign of Elizabeth ; and the legend is told of the reign of Henry III. Vide Percy's Reliques of Ancient Poetry, vol. 2. p. l6l. Page 30 ; line 20. But time has now but left Clay-Hall. Old Ford is in the parish of Stratford-Bow, where there is an ancient gateway, supposed to be the r- 235 mains of a royal palace, vulgarly called King John's Palace ; and Clay-Hall, a public-house and tea-gar- dens, which may have been a private residence from the reservoir, &c. in the grounds. Page 130; line 3. Your cows went 'ghast A country term, i. e. sterilis. Page 130; line 5. You know you sent to beg a gotch of milk. Gotch is the Suffolk term for a jug or pitcher. Page 134; line 14. The carrion crow can ne'er my flocks assail, &c. The pastoral incidents here mentioned; viz. the carrion crow, the badgers, the pigs scudding among the flocks, the frisking of the lambs, &c. will be 236 circumstances recognizable to those who have had the opportunity of seeing such pastural scenery. Page 143 ; line 1, 2. Aurora ! rise, and rouse the slumb'ring day ; I wait impatient at the long delay. This effusion was the result of a morning walk. Never having seen the sun emerge from the bound- less expanse, I determined to do so ; and, having advanced to a spot rural and appropriate, I sat me down on a bank, and, as the day advanced, endea- voured to describe the advance of the potent god of day. Page 173 ; line 13, 14. Hear, where the rocks amphitheatric form, A cannon Jir'd ! This beautiful and sublime effect of " Echo" is exhibited at Borrowdale by firing a cannon ; and the echo breaks, ceases, resumes, and, approach- ing with the circuit of the rocks, ceases. 237 Page 155; line 7. Then pointing on to where the graves in rows, &c. In the country church-yards the graves are kept moulded up (without tomb-stones), which, as long as they are kept in preservation, prevents the inter- jment of another corpse on that spot; and the countryman can point out the graves of his father, grandfather, &c. formany g enerations. Page 156; line 19. The three-times-two sounds in the jiinty tow'r. \\ hen the bell tolls to announce a death, it is cus- tomary, at the commencement of the tolling, to rtrike three-times-two for a woman, three-times-three r or a man, &c. THE END. DOVE, Printer, St John's Square. G\<3V fcAuvaaiH^ ^AJivaaiH^ 1 16& -< <*HIBRARY0/ ^mwm^P \\\l UNIVERSE ^lOS-ANCElfia, ^0FCAUF(% ^OFCA ^ N />-T \ s \ /C *%HVMM^ \*\E-UNIVER$y/, v- y oww 3 1158 01159 5930 l(pr>i lUlTil UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACII HVER% v^lOS-ANCElfj> 000 079 218 o %3AINiV3\\* .^-OHAliru/Mj, ^Aavnain^ ^IIBRARYQ? - ^TJUONYSOP^ AWMIVERS/a "%]AINilJt\V N ^lOS-MElf/.* g ^-N *& ^OFCAIIFO^ ^