
 
 <. 
 
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 THE LIBRARY 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 SALOPIA, 
 
 &c.
 
 
 2^4 ^^^£^-^. 
 
 SALOPIA, 
 THE NEWS-ROOM, 
 
 OTHER POEMS. 
 
 JOHN WILLIAM BYTHELL. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 HOULSTON & STONEMAN, PATERNOSTER ROW; 
 JOHN DAYIES, SHREWSBURY.
 
 ?R 
 
 TO 
 
 PRYSE PRYSE, ESQ., M.P. 
 
 OF 
 
 BUSCOT PARK, BERKSHIRE, 
 
 AND 
 
 GOGERDDAN, CARDIGANSHIRE, 
 
 THE 
 
 CONSISTENT POLITICIAN, 
 
 THE 
 
 THOROUGH SPORTSMAN, 
 
 AND 
 
 SINCERE AND POLISHED FRIEND, 
 
 THE FOLLOWING EFFUSIONS 
 
 ARE INSCRIBED. 
 
 853828
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 Some time ago I amused myself by an attempt 
 at a composition entitled " Salopia." It now 
 appears in a somewhat altered form, and I have 
 added some Miscellaneous Pieces, concluding with 
 " The News-Room." My satire, (if any portion 
 of the following productions deserve the name) 
 will be found to be general ; and if I have endea- 
 voured to excite a smile at the expense of certain 
 Vocations, I have not spared my own. The Volume 
 is presented as the last offering of an humble 
 Muse, with the hope of beguiling a vacant hour. 
 
 J. W. B. 
 
 Shrewsbury, November, 1841.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Salopia, in Two Cantos 
 Canto I. The QuaiTy 
 Canto II. Sabrina 
 
 Page. 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 Ode to Chanty . . ♦ 
 
 The Temple of Friendship . . 
 
 Beauty's Grave . . 
 
 Conway Castle ... 
 
 The Cuckoo 
 
 The Stoi-m. (A Tale) 
 
 Sun-set on the Coast 
 
 The Nosegay 
 
 The Harp of Cambria. (A Song.) 
 
 Servility 
 
 The Parting 
 
 Letter to a Friend, descriptive of Spring 
 
 Farewell to Cambria. (A Song.) 
 
 Sonnet 
 
 50 
 52 
 53 
 
 55 
 57 
 62 
 63
 
 A Summer Tempest 
 
 On witnessing the Destruction of a Swallow's Nest 
 
 Love's Wings. (A Song.) 
 
 The Summer Morning 
 
 Invocation to a Redbreast 
 
 The Chiistmas Moon 
 
 The Mother's Grave 
 
 Prologue to an Amateur Play 
 
 luscription on a present of Plate 
 
 The Invalid's Invocation to Health 
 
 Kate. (A Song.) 
 
 To a Welsh Harper 
 
 Elegy 
 
 Mountaineer's Song 
 
 Friendship's Lament 
 
 Acrostic 
 
 Salopia's Bells. (A Song.) 
 
 Sonnet. To Courage 
 
 Prologue io a Lecture on Astronomy 
 
 Epilogue to the same 
 
 Song, " See ! yon Moon." .. 
 
 For an Albiun . . 
 
 Enigma 
 
 The Tulip and Mignionette 
 
 May's Invitation 
 
 To a Fly dririking 
 
 The Duellist 
 
 An Infant's Death Bed 
 
 Page. 
 64
 
 To a recently caged Sky-Lark 
 
 Epitaph 
 
 The Soldier's Farewell. (A Song.) 
 
 On the Death of Lord Byron 
 
 On the Death of Edward Corbet, Esq. 
 
 The Voice of Experience 
 
 Village Politicians 
 
 Shropshire Ale. (A Song.) 
 
 The Benefit Night 
 
 Bacchanalian Song 
 
 Impromptu 
 
 To a Solemn Critic 
 
 Eeceipt for Preserving a Secret 
 
 The Province of Satire 
 
 The Token.. 
 
 John Bull, in the Nineteenth Century 
 
 Irresolution 
 
 Epigram 
 
 The Traveller and the Landlord. (A Tale.) 
 
 Love and Parliament 
 
 The boisterous Singer 
 
 The Time to play at Cards . . 
 
 On a person suddenly grown i-ich, slighting ] 
 
 The Progless Toui-ist 
 
 Shrewsbury Show. (A Letter.) 
 
 An Inconstant 
 
 Another 
 
 Great Bards and Trifling Subjects 
 
 .. 
 
 rage. 
 109 
 
 .. 
 
 ib. 
 
 
 110 
 
 
 .. 112 
 
 .. 
 
 114 
 
 .. 
 
 117 
 
 .. 
 
 119 
 
 
 12f 
 
 .. 
 
 .. 128 
 
 
 .. 129 
 
 
 .. 131 
 
 
 132 
 
 .. 
 
 ib. 
 
 
 133 
 
 .. 
 
 .. 135 
 
 
 137 
 
 .. 
 
 140 
 
 .. 
 
 ib. 
 
 .. 
 
 141 
 
 ,. 
 
 .. 143 
 
 .. 
 
 145 
 
 .. 
 
 147 
 
 form 
 
 er associates ib. 
 
 
 .. 148 
 
 
 150 
 
 
 .. 155 
 
 
 ib. 
 
 
 .. 156
 
 xu. 
 
 Party .. .. .. .. ..158 
 
 The Task . . . . . . . . . . 162 
 
 Oil a Bee stinging a Toper's Nose . . . . . . ib. 
 
 No and Yes .. .. .. .. ..163 
 
 Eules in Rhyme . . . . . . . . 166 
 
 The Plagiarist . , . . . . . . . . 169 
 
 Epigram . . . . . . . . . . ib. 
 
 To a Celebrated Clown .. .. .. ..170 
 
 Prior's Epigi-am imitated .. .. ., 172 
 
 No Cui-e, No Pay . . . . . . . . ib. 
 
 The Shooter's Song .. .. .. ..173 
 
 Hunting Song .. .. .. .. .. 176 
 
 Feast of Jupiter. (A Vision.) .. .. .. 179 
 
 The English 'Squii-e .. .. .. ..188 
 
 The English Farmer .. .. .. ..192 
 
 Somiet — Evening .. .. ,, .. 195 
 
 The Village Church-yard .. ,. .. ..196 
 
 The News Room, in three Cantos 
 
 Canto I. .. ., ,. • .. ..201 
 
 Canto II. . . , . , . . , . , 221 
 
 Canto III. .. .. .. ., ..239
 
 SALOPIA. 
 
 CANTO FIRST. 
 
 THE QUARRY, 
 
 From bright'ning fields of ether fail- disclos'd, 
 Child of the Sun, refulgent Summer comes, 
 In pi-ide of youth, and felt thro' Nature's depth : 
 He comes attended by the sultry hom-s. 
 And ever-fanning breezes, on his way." 
 
 Thomson's Summer,
 
 SALOPIA 
 
 CANTO FIRST. 
 
 THE QUARRY. 
 
 Behold in the midst of the Wrekin-bound plain, 
 
 Where Severn adorns Agriculture's domain, 
 
 A Gem, richly set in a border of green, 
 
 A Beauty, commanding the landscape serene ; 
 
 A Spire-jutting Spot, seeming eager to rise 
 
 To catch ev'ry freshening gale as it flies — 
 
 'Tis civic-wreath'd Salop — the long laurel'd throne 
 
 Of Learning;* where Charity stills Sorrow's moan: 
 
 By Harmony soften'd, for beauty renown'd ; 
 
 By Sciences courted,f by Industry crown'd. 
 
 * Is it necessary to do more than to point to the Eoyal Found- 
 ation of Edward the Sixth, and to mention the names of a Butler 
 and a Kennedy ? 
 
 + The Town has now a Natural History Society, and two other 
 Institutions, where Scientific Lectures are periodically delivered.
 
 4 SALOPIA. CAN 
 
 O bear, gentle Muse ! swiftly bear me away 
 To Salop's retreat, deck'd in Summer's array. 
 
 Majestical Quarry ! enchantingly fair ! 
 Beyond what the pencil of Fancy may dare ! 
 How verdant thy meadows, how ample thy shade, 
 How grateful the airs of thy curv'd colonnade ! 
 Here Leisure, as round falls the plentiful shower, 
 Rejoices secure in impervious bower. 
 Here Beauty secludes from meridian heat, 
 Fann'd softly by zephyrs with fragi'ance replete.— 
 Oft Stillness awakes at a mirth-moving scene. 
 Mid shouts as the football rebounds o'er the green ; 
 The glee of the pack is in mimic chase shown ; 
 The discus with lucky precision is thrown ; 
 Or kite— once the joy of Philosophy's eye* — 
 On pinions of paper mounts up to the sky. 
 
 Yon Steed, recollecting the generous gi-ounds, 
 Releas'd from the curb, how he snorts as he bounds ! 
 Pride perch'd on his forehead, all pleasure and whim. 
 The Lime-border'd pasture expands but for him ! 
 
 * Alluding to the pleasure experienced hy Franklin, when he 
 proved the iudentity of the electi-ic fire and lighbaing, by means of a 
 paper Kite.
 
 CANTO I. THE QUARRY. 
 
 Thus, suddenly springing from Tyranny's chain, 
 The slave looks around, transport thrilling each vein. 
 
 On buttercup-glades as the cattle repose, 
 Around Joy to Childhood her chaste blossoms throws : 
 Health, smiling, a banquet luxuriant spreads, 
 And Age lives afresh as he looks on the meads. 
 
 Across the bright River the eager eye strays. 
 And Nature a soft swelling bosom displays ; 
 The slopes all attractive, the summits tree-crown'd 
 Reflected, wave clear on the waters profound. 
 Sabrina, as on through the landscape she wends 
 In dalliance sweet, loth her journey extends; 
 As spell-bound, by circling Dryads caress'd : 
 A scene of enchantment, all beauty, all rest ! 
 
 'Tis Noon : — in resplendence the scene is array 'd. 
 Now Sol's golden beams pierce the quivering shade ; 
 Round Chad's graceful figure appears to the view, 
 lUum'd by his rays ; sportive breezes pursue 
 Their course along Severn, the Quarry's bright zone ; 
 An arm of protection round Elegance thrown. 
 
 b2
 
 6 SALOPIA. CA 
 
 Now wafted o'er Severn, to where in each storm 
 Misfortune reposes,* command the full form 
 Of the Quarry, and watch the commingling trees, 
 A forest unbroken, incline in the breeze ; 
 And listen, if softer or louder it blow. 
 As brightly the serpentine stream glides below. 
 
 From Steeples that gracefully tapering rise, 
 (Contending the palm) roves the eye, and descries 
 Thee, time-honour'd Abbey ! no longer taste-scom'd, 
 By a lib'ral Scott and a Rowland f adom'd; 
 More distant, the Column, erected by Fame, 
 To speak to far ages of Hill the proud name ; 
 Wide tree-waving levels; soft risings, besprent 
 With homesteads of Culture, and cots of Content : 
 Attracting at distance, fair Haickstone — and sheen 
 With lirs, bolder Pimhill — and Haughmond serene, 
 And Wrekin, the towering chief of the scene. 
 
 * The Bank on which stands the " House of Industry," now 
 under the humane superintendence of Messrs. Jacob and Eoberts. 
 
 + The Abbey is not the only religious edifice in Shi-ewsbm-y, in- 
 debted to the taste and munificence of the Reverend Gentlemen named.
 
 CANTO I. THE QUARRY. 
 
 Lo ! yonder the Castle, uprear'd at command 
 Of Salop's fam'd Earl, overlooks the rich land : 
 The walls that encompass'd the warrior-guest. 
 Struck fear to the foe-man, now slumber in rest.* 
 
 Unrivalled what melody peals on the ear ! 
 Now charming at distance, and now sounding near ; 
 Now winds, rudely rushing, the current divide ; 
 Again, hark ! the change of the sweet flowing tide. 
 Wonder looks at the Steeplef whence issues the sound, 
 And Fancy pourtrays list'ning Spirits around. 
 
 Oh Salop ! tho' harmony swells on thy gale, 
 And mirth in thy places delights to prevail. 
 The war-cry hath floated along thy rich plain. 
 And Severn deep blush'd with a purpling stain. + 
 
 * The Castle founded by Roger de Montgomery, Earl of Shrews- 
 bury, soon after the Norman Conquest, has been, for many years, 
 a private residence. 
 
 + St. Mary's. 
 
 t Alluding particularly to the Battle of Shrewsbury, fought in 
 July, 1403. 
 
 " We shall scarcely find any battle in those ages where the shock 
 was more tei-rible and more constant. Henry exposed his person 
 in the thickest of the fight : his gallant son, whose military achieve- 
 ments were afterwards so renowned, and who here perfoi-med his 
 novitiate in aa-ms, signalized himself on his Father's footsteps ; and 
 even a wound which he had received in his face with an aiTOW, could
 
 8 SALOPIA. CANTO I. 
 
 The woodlands were silent, the hamlets were still, 
 The Shepherds stood mute on the plain and the hill, 
 Joy fled from the meadows, when spread the shrill sound 
 Of trumpets, surprising the echos around. 
 The Warriors sped to the neighbouring " Field," 
 On her Castle Salopia"*^ stood and beheld. 
 While Chargers, impatient, dash'd full in her sight, 
 And confident Valour prepar'd for the fight. 
 Attentive she ^-iew'd them — then look'd t'wards her gate. 
 If fasten'd ? — and ponder'd the purpose of Fate. 
 
 Soon rose from the level War's hideous yell. 
 And trembled each hamlet, each woodland and dell. 
 Flush'd Carnage unsated encourag'd the strife, 
 Salopia wept at a slaughter so rife. 
 And counted the moments that tardily sped. 
 Till Victory cried — " Henry Percy is dead !"| 
 
 not oblige him to quit the field. Percy supported that fame which 
 he had acquired in many a bloody combat; and Douglas, his ancient 
 enemy, and now his friend, still appeared his rival, amidst the hon-or 
 and confusion of the day."^HuME. 
 
 * The Castle commands a view of the " Battlefield." The onset 
 commenced very near to the Town. 
 
 + " In this critical moment, the gallant Percy, raging through the
 
 CANTO I. THE QUARRY. 
 
 Brave Percy ! tlio' vainly thy fiilcion was aim'd, 
 And Royalty proudly the victory claim'd, 
 Thy name fills with wonder, for thou wert the son 
 Of Valour high-crested, and nobly undone ! 
 
 Great Douglas! the Muse at thy bravery fires; 
 Yet Sorrow^ will rise, as she fondly admires : 
 How blest had she been to hail Hotspur and thee, 
 With Henry,* as ardent, the Friendship-bound three ! 
 For ages shall Salop revert with regret, 
 That natures so noble in civil broil met. — 
 
 Rebellion hath triumph'd, and dark was the hour 
 For diaries the perverse, the abuser of power. 
 As when rolling vapours heav'n's concave deform, 
 The Eagle, alarm'd at the gathering storm. 
 Darts downwards his pinions, and sails with the winds. 
 Till a seat in some neighbouring cavern he finds : 
 
 adverse ranks in quest of his Sovereign, fell by an unknown hand ; 
 alone, and hemmed in by foes. The King lost no time to avail him- 
 self of this event : sti-aining his voice to the utmost he exclaimed — 
 " Hem-y Percy is dead !" 
 
 Owen and Blakeway's History of Shrewsbury. 
 
 * The Prince Hem-y.
 
 10 SALOPIA. ( 
 
 So speeded the Monarch to Salop for rest ; 
 
 Her Walls were his shelter, her bosom his nest.* 
 
 Oh Charles ! still with pity thy story can move ; 
 I sigh at thy pangs, and lamenting reprove. 
 Thou Monarch of troubles ! of Genius the scorn ,f 
 Than wand'ring Ulysses, more hapless, forlorn ! 
 Revohing thy sorrows, so fearful that flow. 
 Thy faults are ingulf d in the depth of thy woe. 
 Could Pity not parry the merciless steel ? — 
 Could Death only warning to Monarchs reveal ? — 
 If Policy prompted the savage repast. 
 Insure it, O Virtue and Freedom, the last! 
 
 But past all the troubles that darken'd thy brow, 
 Fair Salop ! and Gladness inspirits thee now ; 
 
 * 1642. Charles I. came with his army from Nottingham to 
 Shrewsbury. 
 
 " Before the King's anival the people had been poisoned with an 
 odious character of him ; but when they saw his obliging behaviour, 
 and heard his kind speech, they laid aside their prejudices, and were 
 greatly enamoured with him." 
 
 Phillips's History of Sheewsbukt. 
 
 t It will be recollected that the Author of Paradise Lost was 
 among Chai-les's bitterest opponents.
 
 CANTO I. THE QUARRY. 11 
 
 Thy Walls now are broken, and still shall they be 
 
 Dismantl'd, and never be needed by thee ! 
 
 The halo of peace be the circle around, 
 
 The green moss of rest on their relics abound. — 
 
 Who's he on the Knoll that excited appears, 
 Tho' moving as teraper'd by thought and by years ? — 
 'Tis the wand'rer Gilbert, return'd to review 
 The long-hidden scenes where to manhood he grew. 
 
 Ten times has rich Summer enliven'd the land. 
 Since anxious he sought the Columbian strand : 
 An emigrant, tempted by Lucre to roam. 
 Life's current with him seem'd to stagnate at home. 
 For change while he panted, some Demon imprest 
 That Fortune would scatter rich gifts in the West. 
 The home-springs of pleasure, once slighted, he seeks — 
 But, list ! — a voice falters — 'tis Gilbert that speaks. 
 
 " O ! there is a season of transport, an hour 
 When man owns of sweetest reflection the power, 
 A fresh springing fountain of life in the heart, 
 Dispensing a cure for the bitterest smart. —
 
 12 SALOPIA. CANT 
 
 'Tis when from afar he returns to retrace, 
 
 After toil, the lov'cl scenes of his dear Native Place : 
 
 Where parents first pointed to beacons of youth, 
 
 The teachers of learning, the teachers of truth. 
 
 Whose voices persuasive from error reclaim'd, 
 
 Serenely encourag'd, or tenderly blam'd — 
 
 As a bird to her mansion he flies to that goal ; 
 
 'Tis a magnet, attracting the fluttering soul ; 
 
 A Sea, whither currents of fancy incline ; 
 
 A plant, his affections like ivy intwine, 
 
 And the tears that Afiliction commands him to pour, 
 
 Like dew-drops, but bid it to flourish the more. 
 
 " As viewing yon River, yon Quarry and Spires, 
 The heart leaps for joy, fraught with gratitude's fires ! 
 Scenes, fondly remember'd, expand to my sight, 
 All lovely as erst they were wont to delight. 
 
 "Months scarcely may number, while wand'ring afar, 
 How often I ponder'd Salopia's star; 
 How often in solitude sadly I mourn'd. 
 From land of mv fathers with Phantoms I turn'd —
 
 CANTO I. THE QUARRV. 13 
 
 But, lo ! here's my haven, inviting to rest : 
 Ambition, farewell ! thou no more shalt molest." — 
 
 Once more, lovely Avenue, lock'd in thy arms, 
 Chad's mellow hells pealing enhance all thy charms ; 
 And now the last murmuring dies in the shade, 
 To revelling Fancy a whisper's convey 'd — 
 
 " Thrice happy the Country, submissive to plan. 
 Where courage defends all that dignifies man ! 
 Where Arts and fair Science with Freedom in twine, 
 And heart leans to heart, as these branches incline. 
 Ye favour'd of Britain ! do tempests afifright ? — 
 Let Liberty charm you, and Prudence unite. 
 Mars' thunder may threaten, his bolt may be cast, 
 Protecting, protected, ye'll weather each blast." — 
 
 Have twice fifty summers Salopia crown'd, 
 Since the Limes of her Quarry threw fragi-ance around : 
 The land unadorn'd scarce attracted her eyes. 
 Till Taste, peering round, bade her Jenks* to arise. 
 
 * The ground was laid out and planted in 1719, during the 
 Mayoralty of Hem7 Jenks, Esq. It is corporate property.
 
 14 SALOPIA. CANTO I. 
 
 O Planter, of judgment, to memory dear ! 
 As gracefully blending his arches appear. 
 No flattering tablet or pillar needs He — 
 His flourishing monument every tree. 
 
 A mead of renown classic Oxford can boast ;* 
 The mall of St. James may with rapture be crost ; 
 But fade all their charms, as comparing we pace 
 Salopia's Avenue, peerless in grace. 
 
 O ! long as Sabrina exults as the bound. 
 May shades succeed shades on this coveted ground ; 
 Here Youth join in pastime, and Fellowship talk, 
 And the Genius of Salop hold sacred her Walk. 
 
 * Christ Church meadow. 
 
 END OF CANTO FIRST.
 
 SALOPIA. 
 
 CANTO SECOND. 
 
 SABRINA.
 
 SALOPIA 
 
 CANTO SECOND. 
 
 SABRINA 
 
 Where Cambria, midst of her varying skies, 
 To shield her blithe Shepherds bids moimtains arise. 
 The giant Plynlimmon* viprears his huge form. 
 Majestic looks round, and defies every storm. 
 Three wounds, ever open, his bosom divide, 
 Three streams issue thence with a hast'ning tide. 
 
 * Plynlimmon (the loftiest mountain of South Wales) is on the 
 confines of the Counties of Cai-cligan and Montgomeiy, and is remai-k- 
 ahle for being the source of three Eivers, namely, — the Severn, Wye, 
 and Rhydol. 
 
 The Severn, as the reader is aware, after its junction with the Wye 
 at Chepstow, forms, it may be said, the Bristol Channel, after a coui-se 
 of between two and three hundred mUes ; while the Rhydol flows into 
 the sea at Aberystwith, after a jomiiey short of thii-ty. The latter 
 River, befoi-e it reaches the Devil's Bridge, roars through the most 
 stupendous caverns, formed by its own irresistible torrent, and is in 
 many places quite inaccessible.
 
 18 SALOPIA. CANTO II. 
 
 First Rhydol 'mong rocks wends his turbulent way, 
 
 Through caverns deep rushing unwarm'd by the day : 
 
 Impatient he foams, as impell'd by the force 
 
 Of riotous passion, but soon ends his course. 
 
 Next Wye fills the dells with her murmuring sounds : 
 
 Like a lambkin she sports through the op'ning gi'ounds : 
 
 Sedate now she loiters ; now joyfully bounds. 
 
 Then Severn as playful flows over the land, 
 
 But broader and deeper : her waters command 
 
 Wide plains, ample valleys, of richness and grace. 
 
 And Towns, Turrets, Castles, look down on her face.* 
 
 Time was, when in Britain ungovern'd was man 
 By aught save caprice, or the laws of a clan. 
 He wander'd unsettled, the lord of the plain. 
 In tents with simplicity loving to reign : 
 But simplicity bent to desire of fame, 
 And ravage and tumult with property came. 
 Then Cambrian chieftains by Caution were hailed — 
 " Seek ye for protection, by Saxons assail'd ? 
 
 * " The second river of note is Sabiina, or Severn : it hath its 
 beginning in Plynlimmon hill, and its end seven miles from Bristol ; 
 washing in the mean space the walls of Shrewsbm-y, Worcester, and 
 Gloucester, and divere other places and palaces of note." 
 
 IzAAC Walton, (1653.)
 
 CANTO II. SABRINA. 19 
 
 Observe yonder hillock the Nvaters suiTound, 
 Delightful to vision, where Aldei-s abound, 
 Go, — harbour in safety."* — Then slowly arose, 
 (A shelter for friends, a defiance to foes) 
 Salopia's bulwarks; and Severn was thence 
 The source of her beauty at once and defence. 
 
 Alluring Sabrina ! as through Salop's plain 
 Thou windest, how brilliant, how graceful thy train ! 
 Sweet music attending, thou com'st as a Bride 
 By splendour surrounded, with mirth at her side ; 
 While zephyrs, enamour'd, thy cleai- bosom kiss. 
 Thou Queen of the rivers ! thou fountain of bliss ! 
 
 Enchanting the graces thy borders adorn ; 
 Attending thy course, Plenty opes wide her horn ; 
 
 * " Although much doubt remains relative to the founder of 
 Shrewsbui-y, it is ceilain that it was repaired about the year 552 by 
 Maelgwyn, king of Noith Wales; and the most probable coujectui-e 
 is, that it was erected between the yeai-s 520 and 594 by the Britons, in 
 order to protect themselves fi-om the bloody ravages and harrassing 
 incursions of the Saxons, who had previously levelled the Eoman 
 Uriconium (the present Wroxeter) and its fortress with the ground, 
 and forced them to reti-eat beyond the Severn, which then became 
 the boundaiy of the kingdom of Mercia." 
 
 " Shrewsbm-y by the ancient Welsh was called- Ymwithig, or 
 ' the Delight;' by the Britons Pengwem; and by the Saxons Scrob- 
 besbyrig; the two latter names signifying nearly the same, ' the Head 
 of the Alder Groves.' "—Howell's Steangek in Shrewsbuky. 
 c
 
 20 SALOPIA. CAP 
 
 Earth gladly recedes for thy current to glide, 
 Pleasure hastens to scatter her flow'rs on thy side : 
 O stay ! let me sip thee, thy pure bosom kiss. 
 Thou Queen of the rivers ! thou fountain of bliss ! 
 
 How triumphs proud Salop, secure of her charms, 
 Encircl'd by thee, melting Beauty's chaste arms ! 
 O ! well may she question — " Ye Cities that shine 
 Superbly, boast ye of a girdle like mine ?" — 
 
 Unclouded, Apollo his chariot steers, 
 Transfonn'd to a mirror Sabrina appears : 
 Uncurl'd by a breath the bright waters remain ; 
 Revers'd, graceful Steeples appear on the plain. 
 That burns by reflection — with langour survey'd — 
 O now for the Quarry's embowering shade ! 
 
 But, welcome ye clouds o'er the Disk that distend ! 
 Ye soft rising breezes ! ye drops that descend. 
 Refreshing the land, though reluctant to fall ! — 
 And now all your fountains are clos'd, from the thrall 
 Of study and toil come Salopia's swarms: 
 Mirth flies to salute them, and Melody charms ;
 
 CANTO II. SABRINA. 2i 
 
 Sabrina, all loveliness, tempts tliem along, 
 
 And Liberty glows as she ponders each throng. 
 
 Thus Deer, when awaken'd by gladdening sounds 
 
 Of Freedom, dart forth from the paddock's close bounds, 
 
 With one joyous impulse, o'er meadow, through brake, 
 
 And gambol on margin of river or lake. 
 
 How happy yon Angler, who statue-like stands. 
 While the trembling float close attention demands ! 
 Intrusion, avoid him ! — a word whisper not — 
 Enamour'd of silence, he's fix'd to the spot. 
 Of sure capture musing — But, lo ! in the view 
 A Barge gliding comes ; cuts the element through ; 
 Disturbs all the waters; his vision of joys. 
 And patience long-tried, in a moment destroys ! — 
 Thus oft when of bliss man anticipates most. 
 Destruction awaits, and the phantom is lost. 
 
 List ! whence are those sounds, so regardful of time ? 
 The oars of the Rowers ! — full sweetly they chime — 
 Now daring they challenge the tide and the gale : 
 (Example how men, when united, prevail) 
 
 b2
 
 22 SALOPIA. C 
 
 In vain 'gainst their ji^allcy the stream rushes last — 
 Be life's rapid current as cheerily pass'd ! 
 
 Let Cydnus exultingly boast of the charge 
 Of Egypt's vain Queen,* and her glittering Barge; 
 Let Cam and fam'd Isis roll proudly along, 
 By Learning still courted; still sacred to song : 
 Joy pilots the skiffs on Salopia's wave, 
 And skill marks her Sons as the ton-ent they brave. 
 
 Not always the cuiTent so silvery clear, 
 Inviting with pleasure and safety to steer. — 
 As restless Atlantic, at Luna's command, 
 Dilates, till he fills ev'ry creek on the strand : 
 Sabrina, by swift flooded Virmvy supplied, 
 Expanding, conceals ev'ry cave in her side. 
 Triumphant she rolls, mark'd by terror and might ; 
 From waters o'erwhelming Hinds seek with affright 
 Their kine in the meadows, and Shepherds repair 
 To neighbouring uplands, in charge of their care. — 
 She swells till all trace of her border is gone : 
 A wide sweeping deluge, cold, reckless, and lone. — 
 
 * Cleopaha.
 
 23 
 
 But soon, as if spent by her ardent eareer, 
 
 She falls, and the meads in fresh verdure appear. 
 
 Then down her broad bosom the Barge laden rides, 
 
 And giddy the cockle shell Coracle glides ; 
 
 Erect in whose centre the Fisher is set ; 
 
 One hand guides his vessel, the other, the net ; 
 
 His lath-woven vessel ! — scarce ruder was made 
 
 The skiff wherein Rome's Infant founders were laid.* 
 
 Ah ! vain were the Muse, when she dreaded mischance, 
 Did she call to the Fisher — " With caution advance !" — 
 What charmer can waken on land or on stream. 
 Who, heedless of danger, of profit but dream ? 
 
 Gentle Muse ! sing the tribes thro' Sabrina that steer — 
 Fell Pike,t dreaded lord of the watery sphere ; 
 Swift Trout, ever loving the crystalline tide ; 
 Slow Chevin, preferring in deeps to abide ; 
 
 * " A little wooden trough being prepared, and the two infants 
 laid in it, they were carried to the bottom of Mount Palatine, and 
 there tunied adrift upon the Tiber, which at that time overflowed its 
 banks, and washed the foot of the mountain. The little skiff floated 
 without any accident ; but at length being can-ied agamst a stone by 
 the ebbing of the flood, it was overset, and the two brothers turned out 
 upon the strand." — Hooke. 
 
 + " The Pike, fell tyrant of (he liquid plain."— Pope,
 
 24 SALOPIA. CANTO 
 
 Broad Roach, among weeds and in still waters sought ; 
 The green-coated Bleak ;* Gudgeon, easily caught ; 
 Bright Dace, that oft sportively skims the clear wave ; 
 Fleet Samlet, in shallows delighting to lave ; 
 Sly Carp,-]- diving low as the snare passes by ; 
 And Greyling,! that swallow-like darts at the fly ; 
 Huge Salmon, attracted by gaudiest dies ;§ 
 Silver Eel, bolder growing as storms shake the skies ; || 
 Fierce Perch, form'd for combat, with fins died with blood, 
 And Minnow, the confident child of the flood. — 
 
 How often on banks of Sabrina retir'd, 
 Roam'd Salop's lov'd Hero, of Spain the admir'd ! 
 As watching the Barge on her breast, at the sight 
 Young Fancy expanding, to sea took her flight ; 
 
 * " His back is of a pleasant sad, or sea-water gi-een." 
 
 IZAAC W^ALTON. 
 
 + The Carp is by some denominated the water-fox. " Father" 
 Walton styles him " a very subtle fish" — When fished for with a net, 
 he will plunge his nose into the mud, and thus frequently avoids the 
 
 t " The Greyling is a very fast swimmer, disappeai-ing like the 
 transient passage of a shadow." — Bowlkek. 
 
 I An artificial fly can scarcely be too gaudy for the Salmon. 
 
 II The Eel is noted for taking the bait voraciously during thunder 
 storms.
 
 25 
 
 Then Valour would whisper — " When Gaul shall molest, 
 Thy bolts, gallant Benboic* shall humble her crest !" 
 
 Though far be the moment when Neptune may quake. 
 And his Isle from her slumbers all peaceful awake, 
 Over ocean as oft as War's lightning plies, 
 The Spirit of Benbow shall beck'ning arise ! — 
 
 When Joy threw to Boyhood her dew-spangled flowers, 
 Whose drops were the only bright tears of my hours. 
 How pleased have I loiter'd by Severn's pure stream, 
 With Playmates, revolving the morrow's fair scheme ; 
 And loth to depart, on a summit reclin'd. 
 Caught song from the woodland, and health from the wind 
 Long dreaming life's joys, as the current below 
 Enlarg'd as it journey 'd, increasing would flow ! 
 How oft on thy borders, Sabrina, I stray'd 
 Ere the task was accomplish'd — there early delay'd ! 
 
 * Admii-al Benbow was bom in Shrewsbury, about the year 1650. 
 The gallantry of one of his actions while in the Merchant service, 
 being reported to Charles the II., of Spain, that Monarch invited him 
 to Court, and dismissed him with a letter of recommendation to King 
 James, who gave him an appointment in the Royal Navy. In King 
 William's reign he signalized himself by compelling the French 
 Admiral Du Casse to fly before him.
 
 26 SALOPIA. CANTO II. 
 
 Till the voice of yon TuiTet,* alarming my ear, 
 Bade me flee thy green margin, then doubly dear ! 
 And oft as a frown darkly waited for me, 
 The fault still was laid on my Angle and thee ! — 
 
 Hark ! now the blue vault scarce a vapour displays, 
 Bland Zephyrus o'er the rich meadows conveys 
 The music of Hamlets, dispensing the cheer 
 And Festival -joys of the circling year.-f- 
 Rejoicing with Flora the Villagers come. 
 And merrily trip to the reed horn and drum ; 
 While frolic untainted, and love void of guile. 
 Bid Youth glow with courage, and Age wear a smile ; 
 And Charity, Freedom, and Beauty serene. 
 Unite with one ray to illumine the gi-een. 
 
 Hail source of the picture delightful to scan 1 
 Hail Labour ! dispenser of gladness to man ! 
 Thy sons may the rulers of Britain regard. 
 Nor curb their enjoyments — a scanty reward ! 
 
 * The Tower of the Schools. 
 + Alluding to the Festivals of the rurul i'rieiidly ISocieUes,
 
 CANTO II. SABKINA. 27 
 
 For the splendour they give to uphold them combine, 
 The Planters respect while they sip of the vine. 
 
 Sons and daughters of Salop ! how would ye rejoice 
 To hear in your dance a mellifluous voice, 
 The Voice of the land of the Cymru ! the Lyre 
 Or suited with love or with valour to fire ; 
 Dear Cambria's treasure ! whose magical sound 
 Bids Fancy arise from her well-springs profound ; 
 Whose tone as the voice of past ages inspires, 
 Enkindling her bosom with thoughts of her sires. — 
 O strains, in my ear that reverberate yet, 
 Which I ne'er have forgotten, shall never forget \ 
 
 Yet Salop, yon hills of cerulean hue, 
 Wi^d Cambria's border, are envying you : 
 There lingering Winter bids Culture repine, 
 Exuberant blessings of climate are thine. 
 In thee Taste and bountiful Nature unite 
 The riches that cherish, the channs that invite. 
 
 As the Sun from night's regions illumines the sky, 
 From clouds of misfortune, Good bursts on the eye : —
 
 28 SALOPIA. CANTO 
 
 Though routed and ravag'd, for liberty sigh'd 
 
 The Saxons, observing the Norman divide 
 
 Their lands 'tween his followers, then was the lance 
 
 A ploughshare, the Graces first mov'd in the dance : * 
 
 A vesture luxuriant Albion wore, 
 
 The Arts came delighted to dwell on the shore ; 
 
 Around the fair Isle Ceres rov'd for a seat, 
 
 And rested on Salop, her favour'd retreat. — 
 
 Encircled by richness, Sabrixa I trace 
 Where airy-wing'd swallows skim over her face ; 
 Compos'd are the winds ; earth and sky teem with charms 
 Down opposite meadows come frolicsome swarms 
 Of Bathers. Peace reigns in the bosom supreme. — 
 But fleeter is ever the lovelier dream ! 
 A Voice of complaining awakes from the stream. — 
 
 " Ah ! fair are my waters, full softly they flow. 
 Would you credit such beauty could ever give woe ? 
 Would you think in the meads as they winding delay, 
 These waves, like Hypocrisy, smile to betray ? — 
 
 * " The Conquest put the people in a situation of receiving 
 slowly from abroad the rudiments of science and the arts of cultiva- 
 tion, and of coiTecting their rough and licentious manners." — Hdme.
 
 29 
 
 Now Summer, all-bountiful, skips o'er the plains, 
 And Phoebus my fountain so greedily drains, 
 The Sons of Salopia flock to my wave — 
 See ! yonder they gambol, and fearlessly lave : 
 To caverns they plunge, and uprise far away — 
 What Sons more courag'ous, more daring than they ? 
 Too daring, alas ! — scarce a moon journeys on, 
 Some Parent bewails for the loss of a son. — 
 Go, thou, willing Messenger, tell of my ruth. 
 Go caution adepts, speak to unskilful youth : 
 Oh ! tell them tho' lovely and harmless it seem. 
 That Death, the arch tyrant, lurks under my stream ; 
 Oh ! tell them I murmur for buds early taken, 
 For maidens bereft, and companions forsaken !" 
 
 Cease, cease troubled Spirit ! the Muse shall comply, 
 And Rescue in danger be ready to fly.* — 
 
 What object to Fancy distinct doth appear, 
 Wounds op'ning afresh ? — 'Tis Leamder's wet bier, 
 Leander, belov'd by the old and the young! 
 Fair Virtue his bosom, and sense rul'd his tongue; 
 
 * The Humane Society has been the means of diminishing the 
 number of accidents from bathing.
 
 30 SALOPIA. CANT 
 
 Whose smile banish'd sorrow, made pleasure more blest : 
 How joyous the circle that hail'd him a guest ! 
 
 Twice two bloomy seasons had fled since he view'd 
 A flow'r of the sweetest the winds ever woo'd — 
 By Nature are maidens preferr'd, who compare 
 With Cara, refin'd, and as gentle as fair. 
 He lov'd, deeply lov'd her, but scarce of that trance 
 Could he whisper ; a sigh, or a timorous glance 
 Would mark him to Cara, yet these, as they'd steal, 
 Were language, that told her what time might reveal ; 
 While blushes that over her visage would start, 
 Betray'd that Leander was grav'd on her heart. 
 'Twas long ere he counted his wishes secure. 
 Such doubts pure Afi'ection is doom'd to endure ! 
 
 At length Rumour publish'd, relation and friend 
 Consented that Hymen such virtue should blend. — 
 
 Boasts life any season, transcendently blest. 
 As Love's rosy dawn, by Truth's colours imprest ? 
 
 'Twas Summer — all lonely by Severn's bright stream 
 Leander advanc'd ; Phojbus parch'd with his beam :
 
 31 
 
 Overcome by the flame, his vesture aside 
 
 He tosses, and darts in the glittering tide. 
 
 Now swiftly the surface he gracefully skims ; 
 
 Now far in the centre all-confident swims. 
 
 But quickly strange seizures possess either hand — 
 
 Now wistful he looks t'wards the too-distant land! — 
 
 A moment he looks, scarcely issues his breath, 
 
 The treacherous eddy has drawn him beneath ! 
 
 On Cara he thinks ! — Art in vain now he tries — 
 
 O'erwhelm'd, still he struggles, and bubbles arise: 
 
 Again, see ! he plunges — again disappears — 
 
 One terrible pang, and the waves take his fears. 
 
 A stranger at distance beheld him in vain — 
 He hastens, but quiet the waters remain. 
 Winds cany the tidings — crowds msh to the shore — 
 Friends ravel their tresses — companions deplore — 
 Leander is found, but no skill can restore. 
 
 The shock, hapless Maid ! 'twas thy fate to receive, 
 A bosom more arm'd against sorrow might cleave : 
 Not long didst thou taiTy from happiness riven ; 
 Denied it on earth, thou hast found it in Heaven. —
 
 32 SALOPIA. CANTO 11. 
 
 Ye Offspring of Salop ! when Leo the blood 
 Inflaming, ye plunge in your glistening flood, 
 On drowning Leander reflect as ye lave ; 
 Beware, Oh beware of a watery grave ! — 
 
 The beacon of Even lights up in the skies ; 
 From Severn thin vapours begin to arise ; 
 Sol dies with deep colours the far distant West, 
 And shadows Salopia's turrets invest — 
 Sabrina, farewell ! — as in midsummer-light. 
 As you may our moments flov/ smoothly and bright ; 
 Should popular Passions affright the fair plain, 
 As thou overflow^est with Cambrian rain, 
 O ! quick as thy stream may they fall into bounds. 
 And Peace send her matins, and Gladness her sounds. 
 
 END OF SALOPIA.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS.
 
 ODE TO CHARITY. 
 
 Hail Nymph of countenance serene ! 
 Of melting eye, and modest mien, 
 
 Of lieart and tongue sincere ! 
 Nymph of the voice, as zephyr bland, 
 The ready sigh, the lib'ral hand, 
 
 And sympathetic tear ! 
 To thee the Muse, in humble lay. 
 The homage of the heart would pay. 
 
 The writhing son of Misery, 
 
 With heav'nly rapture looks on thee, 
 
 Releas'd from Torture fell : 
 With Pity thou delight'st to hie. 
 Where Melancholy heaves the sigh. 
 
 And pining Want doth dwell. 
 Soother of dumb Creation's woe ! 
 Unpriz'd by thee thy blessings flow.
 
 36 ODE TO CHARITY. 
 
 Whene'er tliy olive-woven wand 
 Waves softly o'er a troubled laud, 
 
 Wild discords cease to grow ; 
 No more the Fiends remorseless rove, 
 Hate, Anger, bend, subdued by Love, 
 
 And in thy Fane they bow : 
 Thy presence cheers like op'ning day, 
 When Sprites of darkness flit away. 
 
 Blest Nymph ! exalt, refine, control— 
 O'er Britain all thy blessings roll ; 
 
 Bear comfort on thy wing, 
 To every shore where lashes fall. 
 And Slav'ry pines in yoke of gall — 
 
 Oh, blunt each Tyrant-sting ! 
 Earth's rude, benighted Nations free. 
 Lovely, heaven-born Charity !
 
 THE TEMPLE OF FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 Dear Friendship ! could Nature but alter her plan, 
 
 An Architect now would I be, 
 And build, (but oh ! mark me, not columns for man,) 
 
 I'd build a fair Temple to thee. 
 
 From the marble of Courage it's roof should be wrought, 
 
 All sides should be open and/ree; 
 Truth, Conj&dence, Constancy, Zeal, should be brought. 
 
 It's four steady Pillars to be. 
 
 By Splendour tho' shunn'd, thro' the ambient air 
 
 The Olive its fragrance should fling ; 
 Mirth's beams should illume it ; no gilding be there. 
 
 Save what Wit, rul'd by Reason, might bring.
 
 38 THE TEMPLE OF FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 I'd ask lovely Virtue my Florist to be, 
 
 That her buds sweetly round it might blow, 
 
 And pray that before it I ever might see 
 The Fountain of Cheerfulness flow. 
 
 Within it's fair precincts lest evil be found, 
 
 (What place is too holy for sin ?) 
 Sharp Caution should raise a firm bulwark around, 
 
 Lest Envy or Passion creep in. 
 
 My Temple complete, " Gracious Heaven !" would I cry, 
 " On this Mansion let blessings descend, 
 
 " Unchanging through life, a joint-Tenant supply, 
 " 0, give me to boast of a Friend !"
 
 BEAUTY'S GRAVE. 
 
 A FORM that the Graces were proud of adorning, 
 
 And Envy grew pale to behold, 
 A visage that rivalled the rosy-streak'd morning, 
 
 The arms of the Tyrant infold ! 
 
 How keen is the anguish my bosom is rending ! 
 
 How hard Sorrow's torrent to brave ! 
 To think of a form of such beauty descending 
 
 So early, to honour the grave ! — 
 
 But vain is the thought — vain the throb so distressing : 
 
 Oh Lucy, thou fairest and best ! 
 Thy Friends (tho' thy presence was counted a blessing) 
 
 Shall they weep at thy heavenly rest ? 
 
 Arise, aptest Emblems ! and no step presuming. 
 
 Shall injure a leaf as ye blow : — 
 Red Rose, and chaste Lilly, ye tell, as ye're blooming, 
 
 Your once lovely Rival's below !
 
 CONWAY CASTLE. 
 
 'TwAS Even, the Sun was with splendour declining, 
 How smooth o'er the stream did our light Vessel glide ! 
 
 As slowly we floated, my heart was repining 
 
 To leave the proud Castle that looks o'er the tide. 
 
 'Twas a scene of mild grandeur : to turrets projecting 
 The rays of the Sun soften'd elegance gave. 
 
 I ponder'd their forms — in the midst of reflecting — 
 The Voice of a Spirit came over the wave : 
 
 " Oh Conway ! how vast were thy strength and thy glory, 
 " The voice of thy revels amaz'd the deep shore ! 
 
 "But ended thy feastings : thy Princes in story 
 " But flourish, and Music enchants thee no more !
 
 CONWAY CASTLE. 41 
 
 " Oh Conway ! bow silent thy chambers and lonely, 
 " The Daw in thy battlements quietude finds : 
 
 " Thy Banqueting Halls are all dripping, and only 
 " The seats of the Owlets, the caves of the Winds ! 
 
 " Thus fade must Ambition, and Grandeur thus crumble, 
 " The heart form'd for friendship, bright Beauty decay ! 
 
 " The fell hand of Time every temple shall humble, 
 " Tho' mortals may mock at his seeming delay !" — 
 
 I turn'd from the scene, and a lone track pursuing, 
 A moment the soul by the truth was opprest ; 
 
 " Oh Nature ! from thee," I exclaim'd, " doom'd to ruin, 
 " Faith points to a Mansion of permanent rest !"
 
 THE CUCKOO. 
 
 Hark ! what yields that tuneful lay, 
 While through sylvan paths I stray, 
 Remote from all the World's employs, 
 Feasting on the woodland's joys ? — 
 'Tis the Cuckoo's early song, 
 Zephyr ! waft the note along. 
 
 Chaste Inspirer of the grove, 
 How I thy simple music love ! 
 Nature dons her green array. 
 To hail thy welcome roundelay. 
 Adorns herself with op'ning flowers, 
 And day from night purloins the hours. 
 
 Yet ah ! full short thy triumphs last, 
 Flatterer ! scar'd at ev'ry blast : 
 Ere Summer fully crowns the dale, 
 Thy sonnets cease to swell the gale — 
 Oh, mock me not ! but flit along, 
 Say not my joys are like thy Song !
 
 THE STORM. 
 
 A TALE. 
 
 Where Albion, seat of liberty and ease, 
 
 Majestic rising, woos the western breeze, 
 
 Proudly surveying Ocean's restless flood, 
 
 A Cottage, scene of rural quiet, stood. 
 
 There Mary with her Parents liv'd secure 
 
 With sweet content ; though humble, far from poor : 
 
 For wealthy they who live within the bound 
 
 That Prudence marks, by Health and Quiet crown'd. 
 
 Where lives the Plant the zephyrs never woo .'' 
 Where blooms the Flower uncourted by the dew ? 
 To Manfs happy roof a Suitor came ; 
 And Mary felt and own'd an equal flame.
 
 44 THE STORM. 
 
 By Honour taught, he told how much he lov'd : 
 Her Parents, pleas'd, his ardent suit approv'd. 
 
 Three times ten years had pass'd o'er William^s head ; 
 Firm was his frame, to toil and tempest bred. 
 From many a rival's sight, in many a gale, 
 His well-trimm'd Bark had borne her swelling sail : 
 Fortune had smil'd, and William might dispense 
 With wave and toil, and rest in competence ; 
 Yet seem'd she still to urge one voyage more, 
 That made, he'd never quit his native shore. 
 
 " Still shall this heart with love and honour burn ! 
 " Wedlock and you shall wait my quick return ; 
 " Adieu !" he cried, (then Mary fondly prest) 
 " Six Moons shall bring me safely to thy breast !" 
 
 Proud of her charge, the Vessel wings her flight, 
 Sinks in the distant haze, from Manfs sight. 
 
 Calm roll'd the days ; yet still to Mary's thought 
 Retm-ning morn its anxious burthen brought : 
 When should she view her William at her side ? 
 When would he come to claim her for his Bride ?
 
 A TALE. 45 
 
 Constancy ! thou nurse to Virtue given ; 
 Now as the Sea, by fearful tempest riven ; 
 Now as the Lake, disturb'd by gentle airs, — 
 What doubts are thine ! how chequer'd are thy cares ! 
 
 Five tedious Moons had shed their silver light, 
 The sixth was nearly spent, since from her sight 
 The wish'd-for Bark had cut the liquid way, 
 When gentle Manj hail'd her natal day. 
 
 Bright shone that morn : blithe Age and Youth appear 
 To blend their wishes for the coming year. 
 What joy to virtuous Mary''s may compare ? 
 How much more blest had William mingled there ! 
 Speed, speed thou tardy Tide ! flow swift to land ! 
 Ye sleeping Gales, waft William to our strand ! 
 
 But oh ! what changes mortal life await ! 
 Search, if ye can, the deep designs of Fate. 
 
 'Twas on that chequer'd day a storm arose : 
 Heaven help the jMariner, how hard it blows ! 
 Clouds burst ; the winds uptear the woods around : 
 Unheeding Desolation stalks the ground :
 
 46 THE STORM. 
 
 The Sailors crouch, amaz'd, upon the shore, 
 And Ocean writhes amid the Thunder's roar. 
 Affrighted Steeds for shelter seek in vain, 
 While rival peal on peal distracts the plain. — 
 But, hark !— more distant now it cleaves the air, 
 And waxing paler is the lightning's glare. 
 Clouds cease to pour ; the Winds their rage restrain ; 
 Yet still with fury boils the angry main. 
 
 Near yonder point, with foaming breakers white. 
 Shorn of her mast, what vessel floats in sight ? — 
 Alas, that dreadful sound ! — the signal's fir'd 
 In vain ! — no Vessel bears the help desir'd. 
 Ye ready Tars ! 'twere madnsss now to strive ; 
 Can any Boat amid yon surges live ? 
 Still will ye dare, nor Danger's self confess ? — 
 Ye can no more than pity her distress ! — 
 A voice of fright and wailing fills the coast : 
 Hark ! the shrill cry—" The Bark, the Bark is lost ! 
 " See how the raging waves the Crew dissever ! — 
 " All now are swept, the Vessel sinks for ever !" —
 
 A TALE. 47 
 
 Swift blows the gale. Along the sighing coast 
 The news is borne — 'tis William's Bark that's lost I 
 Abrupt to Mary^s ear the murmur flies : 
 As struck by bolts that lately rent the skies, 
 She falls — no more with Reason's light to rise ! — 
 
 Now in the Churchyard that o'erlooks the tide, 
 William is hidden, Mary soon will hide. 
 With heavy hearts their friends the tale relate, 
 And every Stonn recalls their mournful fate.
 
 SUN-SET ON THE COAST. 
 
 The wearied Sun reclines 
 
 Upon the placid Sea, 
 The broad expanse of water glows 
 
 With dazzling brilliancy. 
 
 Scarce does a breaker roll 
 
 To greet the peaceful shore : 
 Hark ! — whence that sound, repeated oft ?- 
 
 'Tis from the Fisher's Oar. 
 
 How sanguine is the Orb ! 
 
 See ! now it steals away, 
 And nought but yonder mountain-height 
 
 Is gilded by a ray.
 
 SUN-SET ON THE COAST. 
 
 There's not a zephyr felt : 
 
 The Sea fowls wing their flight 
 
 All mutely o'er the sleeping Sea : — 
 'Twill be a smiling night ! 
 
 From stream and teeming vale 
 
 Broad exhalations rise : 
 Hill, valley, sinking into rest, 
 
 Are silent as the skies. — 
 
 Now, Solitude, to thee 
 
 Unnumber'd charms are given — 
 -^way, ye Spirits of the Earth, 
 
 Nor mar the Muse's Heaven !
 
 THE NOSEGAY. 
 
 As roaming where flowerets healthfully grew, 
 
 In liveliest colours array'd, 
 I pluck'd of each beauty that courted my view, 
 
 The sweetest the Garden display'd. 
 
 Together I hound them to give to a Fair 
 
 Whose countenance rivall'd their bloom : 
 
 The moss-cover'd Rose, snow-white Lilly were there. 
 And the Violet added perfume. 
 
 To Lucy, (whose charms make an envious crowd,) 
 
 The Nosegay, with joy, I resign : 
 " Let this," I exclaim'd, " of its fragrance so proud, 
 
 " Lose its essence in sweets that are thine !" 
 
 With a blush, half-conceal'd, that her modesty show'd, 
 On her bosom the present she plac'd. 
 
 With livelier tint every floweret glow'd. 
 
 And the Maiden seem'd proud to be grac'd.
 
 THE NOSEGAY. 51 
 
 But an hour scarce had pass'd, ere the beautiful die 
 
 Of the pride of the Garden was gone, 
 (So potent the sunbeams) and now, see it lie 
 
 Like Sorrow, all drooping and lone ! — 
 
 " Alas !" I exclaim'd, " even such is the fate 
 
 Of Beauty's enamouring flower : 
 Like the blush of a Nosegay, full short is its date — 
 
 Both flourish and fade in an hour ! 
 
 O Lucy, thou gentle and generous Maid, 
 
 How different the charms of the Mind ! 
 Let envious Time bid thy beauty to fade, 
 
 They HL defy all his efibrts unkind !"
 
 THE HARP OF CAMBRIA. 
 
 A SONG. 
 
 Welcome sweetly euchanting Lyre ! 
 
 Let me delighted thy iimrmiirs hear, 
 Soft as the strains the Seraphs inspire, 
 
 Gay Fancy sounds in the wond'ring ear ! 
 Through the hall as thy melody flowing, 
 
 Regulates sweetly the Dancers' feet, 
 No sounds thy trembling Chords are bestowing, 
 
 But make my bosom with rapture beat ! 
 
 Cambria proudly owns her pleasure. 
 
 As float thy strains in her winding dales : 
 Where are the valleys can boast such treasure, 
 
 Enchanting Hamiony so prevails ? 
 O Souls of Song ! 'bove earth elated. 
 
 The INIinstrel with sunny smiles receive. 
 Fresh founts of joy shall be created. 
 
 The Harp's blest Spirit divinely breathe !
 
 SERVILITY. 
 
 There is in mortals a confirm'd disease, 
 A base desire to palliate and please 
 Patrician folly — urg'd by hope of gain, 
 Or false distinction, Conscience pleads in vain. 
 
 Mark yonder satellite at splendid board, 
 Yon fawning creature of a spendthrift Lord : 
 Each movement captivates the watchful eye. 
 And prais'd is all the mind's deformity. 
 Folly for wisdom, sensual for divine, 
 Pass current ; liberty is drown'd in wine. 
 Think'st thou such gilded state excels his lot, 
 Who feasts with Freedom in the mountain -cot ?- 
 Put ye the words to Truth, she'll answer, — he 
 Is only truly happy who is free !
 
 54 SERVILITY. 
 
 From splendid Office, office is desir'd : 
 The mind enchain'd mayhap the price requir'd. 
 Then farewell sense of feeling and of shame ! 
 When vveigh'd with solid gold, how light is fame ! 
 The joys that Virtue, Liberty, unfold, 
 What are they, plac'd by Luxury and Gold ? 
 
 Hail IxDEPExNDENCE ! soul-cxalting power I 
 Patron of truth, support in trying hour ! 
 In private walks be thy blest influence shed, 
 By thee be piinces, judges, people, led ; 
 To yielding senators thy strength impart : 
 0, fill with Roman pride the British heart !
 
 THE PARTING. 
 
 Oh ! believe me, dear Idol, with many a pang, 
 This bosom hath heav'd, and hath smarted. 
 
 But ne'er has it bled from so cruel a fang, 
 As the one it receiv'd when we parted. 
 
 As I held thee, and breath'd on thy lip my last sigh. 
 My heart throbb'd as tho' it would sever, 
 
 And each could peruse in the glistening eye, 
 " We part. Fate assures us, for ever !" 
 
 O'er the sea then my lingering passage I bent. 
 
 In darkness, in silence, and sorrow ; 
 But still my sad bosom, as lonely I went, 
 
 A beam from thy bright Star would borrow.
 
 56 THE PARTING. 
 
 Oh ! look in tlie Volume of Life, chequer -leav'd, 
 That Volume if rightly thou markest, 
 
 The passage that tells of a bosom thus cleav'd, 
 Is almost the saddest, the darkest \—' 
 
 But, see ! Fortune smiles on my happy return, 
 Our bosoms beat warmly delighted. 
 
 Again the chaste blossoms of Love we discern — 
 Again may they never be blighted !
 
 A LETTER FROM CARDIGANSHIRE, 
 TO A FRIEND IN LONDON. 
 
 DESCRIPTIVE OF SPRING. 
 
 Enamour'd of the lovely form of Spring, 
 The Muse with ecstacy essays to sing. 
 Who hears the chanting of the feather'd throng, 
 And feels no rising rapture at the song ? 
 To Fancy's ear the joyous Minstrels say — 
 " Arise, each Muse, and emulate our lay ! 
 For Spring's return we ardently rejoice : 
 Her praise we sing, who thus inspires our voice." 
 
 O Thou ! whose bosom can, though distant, glow 
 With Friendship's ardent flame, accept what flow
 
 68 DESCRIPTIVE OF SPRING. 
 
 From one whose breast in still and ruffled hour, 
 Owns the soft influence of Affection's power. 
 No fragile chain around our hearts extends : 
 Accept, my Friend, the off''ring Friendship sends.— 
 
 Where'er I roam beneath the vault of blue, 
 Regenerated Nature charms the view. 
 No more distending mists obscure the dale, 
 But playful beams through silver clouds prevail. 
 Beyond their banks the rivers cease to roll, 
 By Fury toss'd ; submissive to control, 
 Like humble Life, by Reason led, they go, 
 And through the meads with tuneful rippling flow. 
 
 In yonder Estuary vessels ride, 
 Waiting the growing influx of the tide. 
 Well-laden Barks, some distant shores to gain, 
 Impatient, fain would rush into the Main. 
 
 How gaily spreads the landscape to the sight, 
 Observ'd attentive from the mossy height ! 
 The white flocks, grazing on the mountain's brow, 
 The speckled herds, upon the plain below.
 
 A LETTER, 59 
 
 Kites, proudly sailing through the air serene, 
 Give living beauty to the glowing scene. 
 In dells at hand the yellow primrose blows ; 
 The trickling rill sweet melody bestows ; 
 And Cuckoo's chant, and soaring Larks above, 
 Attune the soul to more than earthly love. 
 
 Yonder brown Industry pursues his toil ; 
 The brighten'd ploughshare turns the mellow soil. 
 And Sowers, casting joyful looks around. 
 Bestow the future harvest in the ground. 
 
 In cowslip-mead, where winds the rapid stream. 
 In serpent-form, reflecting Phcebus' beam, 
 The patient, all-attentive Angler stands : 
 His pliant rod he dext'rously commands. 
 Upon the liquid mimic-insects play. 
 Tempting, with diff"'rent dies, the finny prey — 
 A Trout has seiz'd the well-resembl'd fly : 
 Ah ! hapless victim, vain were pity's sigh ! 
 Vainly thou striv'st the contest to endure. 
 The rod too faithful, and the line too sure !
 
 60 DESCRIPTIVE OF SPRING. 
 
 Plunge follows plunge : now, every effort o'er, 
 Thy speckled side adorns the pebbly shore. 
 
 Does wanton cruelty the Angler steel, 
 As pleas'd he gi-asps the trout, and winds his reel 
 To cast again ? — Oh no ! what sport is found. 
 That deals not to the prey a deadly wound ? 
 Mankind by havoc their subsistence gain : 
 Alas ! we banquet at expense of pain. — 
 
 To yonder hills, whose summits oft we've sought, 
 Glowing with health, and many a mirthful thought, 
 Shepherds, in russet garments clad, repair, 
 To tend in quietude their fleecy care. 
 The Cur, attentive, waits his Master's call, 
 Who seems himself a mighty lord of all ! 
 His eye surveys where Princely feet ne'er trod, 
 And all around are subject to his nod. 
 With firm, but lenient hand, his crook he sways ; 
 Despots would wonder how his flock obeys ! 
 What, though no soft Arcadian scenes appear, 
 No gentle Damon woos his Delia fair ;
 
 A LETTER, 61 
 
 No flow'rets spring, coy Damsels to aftoni, 
 
 No tender pipings usher in the mom. 
 
 To his green hills a heav'n-born Nymph is sent — 
 
 Rove where he may, the Shepherd meets — Content. 
 
 Who that would health and happiness pursue. 
 Would fail to brush aw^ay the morning dew ; 
 And list to caroling from every grove. 
 When all is green beneath, and bright above ? — 
 
 My Friend ! Remembrance paints each pleasure past, 
 When we with Freedom trod the mountains vast, 
 And menily beneath enchanting skies, 
 The streamlet sought, to tempt the speckl'd prize ?— 
 
 This be our prayer — May Joy return again. 
 As Spring succeeds to rugged Winter's reign !
 
 FAREWELL TO CAMBRIA. 
 
 A SONG, 
 
 Farewell, belov'd Cambria ! farewell the bowers, 
 Where, hallow'd by Friendship, flew sweetly the hours ! 
 Farewell to thy Rivers of beauty and health ; 
 Thy mountains of grandeur, thy Valleys of wealth ! 
 Thy far-spreading Shores, fondly lav'd by the Deep, 
 And Castles long-loek'd in a still, solemn sleep ! 
 
 Farew ell to thy Daughters, kind-hearted and gay ; 
 Thy Sons, warm'd by Mirth, and by Genius's ray ; 
 The cries of the Hunters thy valleys among ; 
 Thy Minstrels, who charm with their strings and their tongue ! 
 O ! Land of the Leek and the Harp, shalt thou be, 
 Remember'd with fondness in sorrow or glee !
 
 SONNET. 
 
 Blest be the Nymph, with bright, but modest eye, 
 
 Stranger to cunning and to low-born pride ! 
 Who only speaks displeasure through a sigh, 
 
 And only fears lest Conscience sleep or chide ; 
 With heart enlisted still on Pity's side ; 
 
 Ready to catch, ere fall, the tears of Woe ; 
 A mind, with sparkling gems of Wit supplied. 
 
 Bright talents, though attractive, scorning show ! 
 Constant in sacred Friendship, and with Soul 
 True to her Love, as needle to the Pole ! — 
 
 Methinks I mark such Star emit it's ray. 
 And Truth pourtrays all that the heart desire ; 
 
 As to Elysium, Fancy wings her way, 
 And worships at the Shrine with purest fire.
 
 A SUMMER TEMPEST. 
 
 The Summer comes with loud, unwonted roar, 
 Fierce waves, with fearful vengeance, lash the shore, 
 
 From yielding cables labouring barks are driven ; 
 The stoutest Seaman -views of Fear the form, 
 The seamew only triumphs in the storm, 
 
 And darkness covers all the face of heaven. 
 
 The forest murmurs for its branches torn. 
 Upon the reckless wind the spoils are borne ; 
 
 The mountain-torrents roll with fury down : 
 Affrighted cattle dart across the plain. 
 And Hinds and Shepherds shelter seek in vain : 
 
 All living look aghast at Nature's frown.
 
 A SUMMER TEMPEST. 65 
 
 Is it some Spirit that in judgment stalks 
 And anger, o'er the quaking eartli, and balks 
 
 The hopes of men, their homes, their fields despoils ? 
 While they succumb, of guilty fear the prey. 
 Or, wondering at the havock, sighing say — 
 
 Adieu the hoped reward of Labour's toils ! — 
 
 Drown'd be the thought ! By the Great ^Moving Hand, 
 In present woes, some hidden scheme is plann'd, 
 
 Man to exalt, or else with bliss beguile. 
 And, hark ! — already distant sighs the blast, 
 And through yon parting clouds a gleam is cast. 
 
 Earnest of Nature's quick-returning smile — 
 
 How sweet to gaze upon the sunny hill. 
 Now all, except the playful breeze, is still ! 
 
 With ocean blending, far the storm retires. 
 The freshen'd landscape opens to the sight : 
 Dead is the heart that beats not with delight. 
 
 Unknown to bliss that Gratitude inspires !
 
 ON WITNESSING THE DESTRUCTION OF 
 A SWALLOW'S NEST. 
 
 Oh barbarous act ! that Pity melts to see, 
 Shame that a hand to do it should be found ! 
 
 Lo ! all the hopes of one poor family, 
 Are laid in flutt'ring ruin on the ground. 
 
 On hasty wings around the parents fly, 
 Lamenting for the absence of their care ; 
 
 The scatter'd offspring hear the piteous cry, 
 Cast in the gulf of ruin and despair ! — 
 
 Was it for this the twitt'ring partners fled, 
 On weary wings, across the watery waste ? 
 
 For this they labour'd underneath the shed ? 
 And thus is confidence repaid at last ! — 
 
 But wherefore, still unheeded, flows the lay ? 
 
 Mankind are callous to Compassion's call ; 
 Bold Cruelty makes Innocence her prey. 
 
 And man a prey to man, like birds, must fall.
 
 LOVE'S WINGS. 
 
 A SONG 
 
 Love hath Wings, the Poets say — 
 And he shews them every day ; 
 First he comes as if he'd stay, 
 Mocking, then he flies away ! 
 Mir A ! still shall we be sighing. 
 Or, courag'ous, seize him flying ? 
 
 O'er his giddy, roving wing. 
 Shall we stubborn shackles fling, 
 Hymen's chains ! shall they endeavour 
 Bind him fast, and hold him ever ? — 
 MiRA ! still shall we be sighing, 
 Or, determin'd, seize him flying ?
 
 THE SUMMER MORNING. 
 
 How sweet tlie Summer-Morn ! — the dappled sky, 
 The balmy breeze, expanding down the dale, 
 
 The silver Rivulet, exulting nigh. 
 
 The fragrant Grove, where melodies prevail I 
 
 With mind all buoyancy, and heart all glee, 
 Enraptur'd, forth we rush to Nature's arms. 
 
 And while on fragrance feast, her beauties see, 
 Dream not a Tempest may obscure her charms. — 
 
 But, hark ! — the hea^y Thunder peals — each um 
 Of Heaven expands, and Sol denies his ray ! 
 
 From late-lov'd scenes reluctantly we turn. 
 
 And, sighing, homeward bend our darken'd way.
 
 THE SUMMER-MORNING. 69 
 
 Thus in the Mom of Life of bliss we boast, 
 
 Our Sails outstretching fill'd by Friendship's breeze, 
 
 But soon the joyous Bark, by Tempest toss'd, 
 Some shallow strikes in Disappointment's Seas ! 
 
 Can'st thou, Philosophy, so arm mankind, 
 To leave, without a sigh, the Wreck behind ?
 
 INVOCATION TO A REDBREAST. 
 
 Haste, gentle Timidity's child, 
 
 Haste, haste from the snow-man tl'd field ! 
 The storm rages fearfully wild. 
 
 My Cottage a shelter shall yield. 
 
 Thou quak'st with ill-grounded alarm ! 
 
 Why pants thy red bosom with fear ? 
 Approach, nor anticipate harm : 
 
 Compassion and Peace govern here. 
 
 See ! the casement expanded invites. 
 From cold and from hunger to save ; 
 
 Think not, against Nature's first rights, 
 I'll make thee, poor trembler, my slave ! 
 
 The wiry, the terrible pen. 
 
 Thy figure shall never incase, 
 For liberty, cherish'd by men. 
 
 How belov'd by the warbling race !
 
 INVOCATION TO A REDBREAST. 71 
 
 Haste — haste then, and banish thy fears, 
 
 In the bitter blast no longer pine : 
 When I've fed thee, and soften'd thy cares, 
 
 Thy song shall alleviate mine. — 
 
 Now methinks I behold in thine eye. 
 
 The bright beams of pleasure arise. 
 And Confidence prompts thee to fly 
 
 'Neath my roof, from the merciless skies. 
 
 Hail Visitant ! this be thy home, 
 
 Ne'er wander too far from my shed, 
 And if thou be tempted to come, 
 
 Thy banquet shall daily be spread. 
 
 Ye Great ! oft deluded the most, 
 
 By fawning Carousers caress'd. 
 Among the vain group, can ye boast. 
 
 So harmless, so grateful a Guest ?
 
 THE CHRISTMAS MOON. 
 
 Smiling she looks on tlie frost-cover'd Earth, 
 (A Beauty o'er whom doth no mist pass !) 
 
 Kindness and Frolic attend at the birth 
 Of the generous Moon of Old Christmas. 
 
 Slowly and sweetly the Rivulets flow, 
 The Winds from Contention desist, as 
 
 Raptur'd we look on the Mountain's hoar brow, 
 Illum'd by the chaste Moon of Christmas ! 
 
 The Earth may be barren and cold to the sight. 
 
 Yet Joy magic pow'r to enlist has : 
 ! the Heart is a climate of fruitful delight, 
 
 'Neath the round, merry Moon of Old Christmas. 
 
 'Tis Christmas bids freedom and gallantry glow. 
 
 Ask many a frolicsome kist Lass ! 
 O'er silvery plains Sons of Revelry go. 
 
 Extolling the clear Moon of Christmas !
 
 THE MOTHER'S GRAVE. 
 
 Oh ! there is a Picture more moving, more sad, 
 Than any the dark shades of Fiction have clad ; 
 O'er the heart of the Gazer fond sympathy creeps : 
 He leaves it abruptly, and inwardly weeps — 
 
 A Picture to soften the hardiest soul ; 
 
 O'er the gayest the waters of dark sorrow roll : 
 
 Oh ! who, while he views, trouble's torrent can brave — 
 
 A Daughter inclin'd o'er a fond Mother's Grave ? 
 
 Her features of anguish, her look of despair, 
 What pencil can paint them, what tongue can declare ? 
 Her cheek pale and cold as the Treasure beneath ! 
 Her eye, clos'd to all, save the Mansion of Death ! — 
 
 The rage of the Ocean may quickly be past. 
 The Sailor his Vessel may anchor at last, 
 The Captive may comfort or liberty find. 
 But her's is a woe that leaves no hope behind !
 
 PROLOGUE 
 
 TO AN AMATEUK PLAY, 
 
 PERFORMED IN SHREWSBURY THEATRE, 
 
 FOR THE BENEFIT OF THE WIDOW AND CHILDREN OF 
 
 JOHN MANSELL, WHO WAS DROWNED IN THE SEVERN, 
 
 IN THE ACT OF SAVING ANOTHER. 
 
 'Tis past ! — the munnur dies along the shore : 
 Insatiate Severn has one Victim more : 
 Oh, sick'uing thought ! intent a life to save, 
 Why, why triumphant only for a grave ? 
 
 If sighs from ev'ry hosom, deep, sincere — 
 If praise from ev'ry tongue — if Widow's tear — 
 If Friends' lament o'er daring Virtue's shrine, 
 May please thy spirit — Mansell, these are thine !- 
 
 Nor shall oblivion soon o'ershade his lot : — 
 With mingled wonder pausing by the spot,
 
 PROLOGUE. 75 
 
 Oft shall Salopia breathe the bitter moan — 
 " Saving a fellow's life, he lost his own !" 
 The Rower, skimming down Sabrina's wave, 
 As near he floats where Mansell found his grave, 
 Resting his oar, shall to his friend relate 
 The painful tale, and mourn his sudden fate. 
 And oft, should Heav'n preserve the Offspring-life, 
 On Severn's brink they'll conjure inward strife ; 
 Fancy will paint the Father's willow-bier. 
 While the hush'd wave receives the silent tear. 
 
 But, why this strain ? — Oh, sorrow vainly pour'd ! 
 Hope kindly whispers — his firm spirit soar'd 
 To peaceful realms. — Alas ! that hapless One, 
 Doom'd to lament a Husband, Father, gone ; 
 Doom'd as a bark to dread each shoal around, 
 Her crew unable, and her Pilot drown'd ! 
 
 But, see ! what friends her cheerless breast may boast : 
 So Stars beam mildly when the Sun is lost. — 
 Hail Ye who fain would Trouble's waves control ! 
 Hail kind Physicians of the widow'd soul ! 
 'Tis yours, commission'd with the balm of Heaven, 
 To bathe the wound a bitter shaft has given.
 
 76 PROLOGUE. 
 
 While thus your hearts iu sorrow's aid engage, 
 Shall we with nerveless fear possess the Stage ? 
 Droop, when as day calls Nature from her trance, 
 Salopia wamily bids her Sons advance ; 
 Proclaims, howe'er each actor fill his part, 
 He'll have a prompter here in every heart ! 
 
 Yes ! as kind Charity has hither led 
 Your steps to-night, so here her spell his spread. 
 Behold around how firm the fence she draws ! 
 Our weakness gathers courage from our Cause. 
 Kindness our patron, Charity our shield. 
 We move as Gleaners in Thalia's field ; 
 Blest, if our harvest, yielding timely cheer, 
 Afford a respite to the Widow's fear : 
 For this each Actor every care endures. 
 Yet humbly owns the meed of merit yours.
 
 INSCRIBED ON A PRESENT OF PLATE. 
 
 ^0 jTOr. CJeorge i^iltritcfi : 
 
 PRESENTED, WITH OTHER ARTICLES OE PLATE, 
 
 BY HIS FRIENDS AND ACQUAINTANCE, 
 
 IN TESTIMONY OF THEIR ADMIRATION OF HIS 
 
 INTREPID CONDUCT, IN SAVING 
 
 MR. THOMAS ATCKERLY FROM DROWNING, 
 
 WHILE BATHING IN THE RITER PERRY, JULY 5th, 1839. 
 
 Can ought that Admiration woiiUl bestow, 
 
 Superior grace 'round virtuous courage throw ? 
 
 The rarest gem Golconda might afford, 
 
 Were a poor off 'ring for a life restor'd ! 
 
 Oh ! light is all we tender or express, 
 
 Weigh'd with his thanks, who lives thy name to bless 
 
 Yet may this Tribute of a lauding throng. 
 
 The mem'ry, Hiluitch, of thy deed prolong.
 
 THE INVALID'S INVOCATION TO HEALTH. 
 
 Spirit of Health ! tlie sun-beams are glowing round, 
 
 Nature exults in her brightest an-ay, 
 May all her sweetest enchantments is throwing round, 
 
 Beauty and Harmony call me away ! 
 
 Spirit of Health ! show me the mountain, 
 
 Fancy pourtrays overlooking the dale : 
 Lead me where sparkles the thirst-cooling fountain. 
 
 And odours impregnate the genial gale. 
 
 Come with thy rosy, come with thy beaming look ! 
 
 Touch'd by thee, would my bosom, all lightness, rebound 
 With thee let me rove on the banks of the gleaming brook. 
 
 While melody floats from the hawthorns around. 
 
 Spirit advance ! — still art thou disdaining me, 
 
 Still must the moments roll darkly along ! 
 Break, break the fetters so rudely restraining me. 
 
 Thou shalt have gratitude, thou shalt have song !
 
 KATE. 
 
 A SONG, 
 
 Do ye seek an op'ning Rose, 
 
 Bright as newly dash'd by dew, 
 
 Without a thorn to discompose. 
 
 Full of sweets and beauty too ?- 
 
 Fly to see, but only see. 
 
 Gentle Kate, by bonny Dee ! 
 
 Do ye seek a modest Eye, 
 
 Yet by rays of splendour blest, 
 Like Venus in a cloudless sky, 
 
 Meekly beaming in the West ?— 
 Happy he, thy Star may see, 
 Lovely Kate, by winding Dee !
 
 80 A SONG. 
 
 Do ye wish a Voice to hear, 
 
 Tun'd o'er Sorrow to prevail, 
 
 Sweeter than the sounds that cheer, 
 Floating on the morning gale ? — 
 
 O what glee, to list to Thee ! 
 
 Cheerful Kate, by crystal Dee ! 
 
 Do ye seek an humble heart ; 
 
 Mental Gems, all richly set ; 
 Virtues, suited to impart 
 
 To life a lasting Coronet ? — 
 Blest were he, approv'd by Thee, 
 Modest Kate, by rapid Dee ! 
 
 Fame and Strife together gi-ow. 
 
 Pomp and Birth are empty things. 
 
 Fining streams from Vu-tue flow. 
 Pleasure in seclusion springs : — 
 
 The World I'd flee, to live with Thee, 
 
 Charming Kate, by bonny Dee !
 
 TO A WELSH HARPER. 
 
 ! TOUCH those chords agam, 
 
 Once more awake the Spright ! 
 From every tone a fountain flows 
 
 Of unalloy'd delight. 
 There's magic in the strain, 
 
 Enamour'd of the sound, 
 Fancy soars on joyous wing, 
 
 And Pleasures dance around ! 
 
 O ! touch those chords again, 
 
 Sweet as their murmur swells, 
 A voice salutes my wond'ring ear, 
 
 Of mirthful hours that tells ; 
 When Friendship link'd each heart, 
 
 And Beauty cast her beam, 
 And nought but Pleasure's growing sound, 
 
 Disturb'd my waking dream !
 
 82 TO A WELSH HARPER. 
 
 ! touch those chords again, 
 
 My eager eye surveys, 
 Enraptur'd at the view, each scene 
 
 Of dear-remember'd days ; 
 When I was free to rove, 
 
 As blithe as Shepherd-swain, 
 A Wand'rer in the Cambrian dales : 
 
 O, touch those chords again !
 
 ELEGY. 
 
 On the cold, cold ground her Form was laid, 
 
 The winds were rudely sweeping, 
 The Earth in a mantle of snow was array'd, 
 
 No shade from the keen blast keeping ! 
 
 We bore her up by the pale Moon-light, 
 
 But slowly as we were going, 
 Not a plaintive sigh, not a start of affright, 
 
 Betray'd that life was glowing. 
 
 In the friendly Cot her foiTu we plac'd, 
 
 But fruitless was each endeavour, 
 The glow of her aspect had been long effac'd, 
 
 And her eyes had clos'd for ever ! 
 
 We paus'd — we thought — and we mourn'd her fate- 
 
 Who was this by Death o'ertaken ? 
 But her Garment soon betray'd it was crazij Kate, 
 
 By Lover and Friend forsaken !
 
 THE MOUNTAINEER'S SONG. 
 
 The Sun has hid his golden beams, 
 
 And stormy clouds hang o'er the Sea, 
 The Moon emits her pallid gleams. 
 Reckless roll the mountain streams, 
 And fitful blasts affright the lea. 
 
 Now across the barren height. 
 My unfrequented path shall be — 
 
 In vain ye gather, shades of night ! 
 
 On Arden's top, enthron'd in light, 
 Matchless Mona beckons me ! 
 
 Dangers vainly urge delay : 
 
 Thou, fickle Moon, no more I see ! 
 Love and Truth illume the way. 
 Brighter, brighter grows the ray ! 
 Smiling Mona beams on me !
 
 FRIENDSHIP'S LAMENT. 
 
 The Lark expands his joyous wings, 
 The mellow Thrush enamour'd sings, 
 
 Now Spring vouchsafes relief: 
 I, only I, upon the Plain, 
 Wrong'd by the Friend I lov'd, remain 
 
 Unmov'd, except by grief! 
 
 Oft have we roam'd by grove and rill, 
 O'er upland lawn, o'er mossy hill ; 
 
 How swift the moments flew ! 
 Methought so firm was friendship's band, 
 That nought but Death's resistless hand 
 
 The tie could e'er undo ! 
 
 02
 
 86 friendship's lament. 
 
 Ask what is Life ? — A chequer'd plain, 
 Where Light and Shade alternate reign 
 
 And when the prospect lies 
 More captivating to the eye, 
 The darker Tempest fills the sky, 
 
 And all the beauty flies ! — 
 
 The Earth that frosty Winter binds. 
 Relents beneath the vernal winds, 
 
 That free the prison'd wave : 
 And He who now his Friend can spurn, 
 To thought, to feeling may return, 
 
 And mourn the pangs he gave.
 
 ACROSTIC 
 
 Rear'd as by stealth, and far from public view, 
 On Scotia's wild a flower unequalled grew ; 
 Bright were the dews that settled on it's head, 
 Eager to sip, around the zephyrs fled : 
 Replete with sweets, they fann'd each plain and dell, 
 Till all the land inhal'd the grateful smell. 
 
 Blest be the spot where so much beauty grew ! 
 Untir'd, the Fancy doth its precincts view. 
 Refreshing oft the fragrancy returns ; 
 New beauties blow — how happy who discerns, 
 Secludes with Nature's darling — Robert Burns !
 
 SALOPIA'S BELLS. 
 
 A SONG. 
 
 ADAPTED TO MOORE's " YOUNG MAY MOON." 
 
 Salopia's Bells are pealing, Love ! 
 To the meads let us be stealing, Love ! 
 
 O'er Severn's bounds 
 
 The strain resounds, 
 Awakening chords of feeling. Love ! 
 Sky and River look bright and clear, 
 Thy features as gay and as light, my Dear ! 
 
 Let us hasten away, 
 
 While merry Bells play. 
 Our bosoms shall beat with delight my Dear !
 
 SALOPIA S BELLS. 
 
 With Joy let us be soaring, Love ! 
 And Jove's best gifts imploring, Love ! 
 
 Life's fairest bowers, 
 
 Admit the showers, 
 Then never on Care be poring. Love ! 
 Pleasure decays full soon, my Dear ! 
 O, sweet is Salopia's boon, my Dear ! 
 
 Let us hasten away. 
 
 Now merry Bells play. 
 And our bosoms shall beat in twie, my Dear !
 
 SONNET. 
 
 TO COURAGE. 
 
 Nymph of the measur'd step, and dauntless mind ! 
 
 The front commanding, eye of temper'd fire, 
 To bear mankind through ills of life design'd, 
 
 Whom Warriors worship, whom e'en Foes admire ! 
 Thou that didst stern Achilles' breast inspire. 
 
 Exulting view the fond Leander's deed ; 
 In Love and War forbidding to retire, 
 
 Whom Virtue cherishes, and Tyrants dread : 
 Oh, through this jarring Life of joy and pain, 
 In all pure Conscience would perfoim, sustain ! — 
 Inspir'd by Thee, unmov'd we hear each blast, 
 
 Contemn the phantoms of weak Fancy born, 
 Bid dark Oblivion veil discomfits past, 
 
 The weakest shelter, proudest laugh to scorn !
 
 PROLOGUE 
 
 TO A LECTURE ON ASTRONOMY, DELIVERED BEFORE 
 A PRIVATE PARTY. 
 
 Before I venture to perform my part, 
 Let me appeal to every candid heart : 
 I, like a bashful Actor in a play. 
 Require approving looks to cheer my way. 
 
 No merry treat I boast : 'tis mine to show 
 How Planets travel, and wide Oceans flow ; 
 To tell the wonders of Attraction's pow'r ; 
 To mark the Earth's swift progi-ess thro' each hour; 
 To paint Heaven's studded aspect to the sight, 
 And fill the soul with solemn, mild delight.
 
 92 PROLOGUE. 
 
 Divine Astronomy ! to Thee 'tis given 
 To search the beauties of expanded Heaven, 
 And while thou bringest wonders to the view, 
 To teach the rev'rence to their Author due. 
 
 That thy bright flag might fully be unfurl'd, 
 Great Newton rose — the wonder of a world ! — 
 In him the rays of knowledge centred clear, 
 On Science' wings he darted round the Sphere ; 
 And, while he noted Nature's steady laws. 
 With rev'rence own'd the First, the Mights Cause ! 
 Ere that bright Star of Science 'gan to fall, 
 Another shot his beams across our Ball — 
 The self-taught Ferguson — a shepherd bred — 
 Who gaz'd like David, while his flocks he fed : 
 At early dawn — when shades of Even rise. 
 With raptured piety beheld the skies. 
 Triumphant names ! in England's heart secure, 
 Whose fame shall flourish while her shores endure ! 
 
 Ye gentle Fair ! whose smiles, like cheerful day. 
 Beam forth, to charm each clouding fear away,
 
 PROLOGUE. 93 
 
 To you I bend — say, do I vainly court ? — 
 All, no ! I see your smiles will still support. 
 Ye lib'ral Sirs ! I mark it in your air, 
 Your pride will be to emulate the Fair ! 
 
 And now I feel my thoughts, my courage rise, 
 With me let Fancy wing you through the skies.
 
 EPILOGUE, 
 
 ON THE FOREGOING OCCASION. 
 
 And now the circle of my Lecture done, 
 I sink in shade, like Luna from the Sun, 
 When into shadow of the Earth she's driven, 
 Resigning rays by light intrinsic given. 
 
 But list !— methinks I hear a welcome sound- 
 Is it a call to Supper floats around ? — 
 Deaf be each ear to music of the spheres. 
 An earthly sound of earthen dishes cheers ! 
 Thrice happy change, to drop from fields of air 
 On fields of corn and wine, substantial fare ! 
 Through any regions an excursive flight. 
 Ensures, if nothing else, an appetite !
 
 EPILOGUE. 95 
 
 Speed, lest the Hostess lecture for delay! — 
 The sparkling board shall be our " milky-ivay ;" 
 There " Taurus," in the shape of bold Sirloin, 
 With ruddy '• Crabs," shall be our cheering Sign ! 
 While circling round the rosy goblet goes. 
 No more we'll ponder how salt Ocean flows, 
 Or earth revolves : obeying Hunger's call, 
 The Moon may kiss or not this giddy Ball ! 
 Hail Frolic's hours ! as merrily we quaff. 
 At grave Astronomy herself we'll laugh ; 
 Nor mourn that envious Sol his light denies, 
 Illumin'd by the beams of Beauty's eyes !
 
 SONG. 
 
 See ! yon Moon, with silver light, 
 Chase the hon*ors of the night ! 
 Gloomy vapours glide away. 
 As the balmy breezes play. 
 
 Philomela, through the grove. 
 Pours the liquid lay of love — 
 Where the gleaming glowworms throng, 
 Lyra ! trip with me along. 
 
 Fairies, wond'ring at thy charms. 
 Circle round to shield from harms ! 
 List ! — a whisper in the grove — 
 Lo, the Sister -Queen of Love !
 
 FOR AN ALBUM. 
 
 Gentle Muse! choice flowerets bring, 
 Belinda claims an Offering : 
 Graceful weave a garland light, 
 To charm expectant Fancy's sight. 
 Paiht her the Rose of ruby-die ; 
 Pale Lilly, loth to meet the eye ; 
 Soft Violet, of purple hue ; 
 Forget-me-not, the faithful blue ; 
 The waving Crest of turrets old. 
 Prince of odours ! dipp'd in gold ; 
 Sweet Eglantine, so gaily grac'd, 
 And Snowdrop, as Belinda chaste ! 
 O'er all perennial fragrance fling. 
 Gild with Parnassian colouring. — 
 
 In vain I call — See ! far away 
 The Muse expands her partial ray : 
 On happier Votaries she shines. 
 While He who asks her favours pines.
 
 FOR AN ALBUM. 
 
 Yet Stay, Belinda — By this Cot, 
 A floweret boasts its lowly lot ; 
 A stem I'll gather. — O, how vain, 
 How proud it seems thy breast to gain ! 
 Where, Queen-like, on its snow-white throne, 
 It fain its kindred would disown. 
 Around a genial glow it sheds ; 
 E'en to thy heart its influence spreads : 
 O ! nought from thee its magic sever — 
 " Hearts-Ease" and you be join'd for ever.
 
 ENIGMA. 
 
 Without me Creation had never been made, 
 
 Stars never been witness'd, light never display'd ; 
 
 In ether I live, and on tempests I ride ; 
 
 The heart I support, over thought I preside. 
 
 In thunder I speak, and to terror give birth. 
 
 Yet gentleness owns me, and transport, and mirth. 
 
 In mystery veil'd, I my office pursue. 
 
 In midst still of mortals, but never in view. 
 
 In j,udgment I sit, though regarded the last. 
 
 And reign in the present, the future, the past. 
 
 Shunn'd by me, not the proudest could ever subsist. 
 
 Night, e'en at noon-day, would be nigh, were I miss'd.
 
 100 
 
 I live in the breath ; not a floweret blows, 
 
 Nor towering tree, but my influence shows. 
 
 Though seas might without me, no streamlet could flow 
 
 To me Wealth and Poverty equal debts owe. 
 
 Still met in distress, the companion of youth ; 
 
 Ever present with Piety, Charity, Truth. 
 
 Without me sweet virtue had never been known ; 
 
 Though Pomp I abjure, I preside in a Throne.
 
 THE TULIP AND MIGNIONETTE. 
 
 Yon Tulip mark, on slender stem that grows 
 Above the Mignionette, its neighbour-flower : 
 
 It seems with anger flush'd, and scorn it throws, 
 As if Authority had lent her power. 
 
 To Fancy's ear these pompous accents rise : 
 " Ye puny tribes, that, creeping, court the day ! 
 
 Behold in me the fav'rite of the Skies, 
 
 And tremble lest I scorch you with my ray !" — 
 
 Oh ! vain, imperious boast — though Sol illumes 
 Thy face, one blast may bring thee to the ground 
 
 And vain 'twere searching thee for rich perfumes, 
 While riches in the Mignionette abound. 
 
 Thus to the moral eye is mental treasure 
 Oft dealt : Humility with sense we see ; 
 
 Oft search in vain for soul-delighting treasure — 
 Though flaunting beauty strike — in Vanity. 
 
 h2
 
 MAY'S INVITATION. 
 
 Come with me, O come away ! 
 
 Groves are green, and streamlets bright. 
 Lawns I've deck'd in rich array, 
 
 Verdant made each sloping height. 
 
 Wander with me through the dale, 
 Where my melodies prevail, 
 Where my golden flower glows. 
 And whiten'd thorn it's fragrance throws. 
 On the crystal river's side 
 Pause, and watch the stealing tide ; 
 Or on mossy mountain's brow 
 Rest, and view distinct below 
 The green expanse, bestrew'd with Faraas, 
 Village Steeples, Orchard-charms. 
 Hear the neighb'ring Dove complain ; 
 The Woodman's axe, the Ploughboy's strain
 
 may's invitation. 103 
 
 (Light to him the toils of day, 
 Whistles he his cares away !) 
 
 From yon undulating grove, 
 Mark a Muse's vot'ry move ; 
 Rapture fills him to behold, 
 Mountain-summits, tipp'd with gold. 
 Now the lonely glen he treads ; 
 All her power Enchantment spreads: 
 As when in solemn hour of night, 
 The Soul, unsleeping, takes her flight, 
 And travels in etherial ways. 
 In fields of Paradise delays ; 
 Now basks in light, now courts the shade, 
 Till morning bids the vision fade. — 
 
 Come with me ! and I'll bestow 
 Balm for every latent woe. 
 Spurn the world and call her pains, 
 Solid troubles, fancied gains ; 
 What is all her pomp to thee ? 
 Thou art blest, if thou art free ! 
 Free to rove the verdant fields, 
 Where Health unbought a banquet yields,
 
 104 may's invitation. 
 
 Where Peace forbids a cloud to roll, 
 To dim the sunshine of the soul ; 
 Where Fancy opens all her bowers, 
 And I bestrew the path with flowers. — 
 
 ANSWER. 
 
 Enough ! I hear sweet zephyrs play — 
 Thy beauties captivate my view ; 
 
 I'll roam with Thee, O matchless May, 
 The meads, the glens, the forest through !
 
 TO A FLY, DRINKING. 
 
 Buzzing Stranger ! dost thou reap 
 Pleasure in the sparkling Glass ? 
 
 Cautious ! lest too far you creep, 
 And the slipp'ry bound'ry pass. 
 
 Now, methinks, you've had your fill, 
 Pleasure glistens in thine eye ; 
 
 Yet on the brink you linger still : 
 
 What other want wouldst thou supply ? 
 
 Upward now with haste depart, 
 
 Or, mark me, joy will turn to woe ! — 
 
 Vain the warning '.—down you dart. 
 And flutter on the flood below. — 
 
 Thus Mankind, though Reason call, 
 At Pleasure's fount voracious drink, 
 
 Giddy growing, till they fall. 
 And in the fatal Vortex sink !
 
 THE DUELLIST. 
 
 A Playhouse bubble, or a Tavern brawl, 
 A finger rais'd, a Nymph untrue to all, 
 Can bid a Man of Honour wildly rave, 
 Can send a Man of Honour to his Grave !— 
 Heavens ! that a Briton, 'scap'd War's direful din. 
 Should hazzard an existence for a Pin ! 
 That Men, who for their Country coolly stood. 
 Should weakly sink in Passion's foaming flood ! 
 
 Behold yon Messenger on reeking Steed — 
 He bears a Challenge, vaunting of the deed ! — 
 To stern Revenge a debt must now be paid. 
 For passion thwarted, or a word mis-said : 
 Havock and Pride embrace with fond regard, 
 To see the bloody tragedy prepared : 
 Swift to the field the madden'd Hero flies. 
 Falls by his once lov'd Frieiul — forgives — and dies !
 
 AN INFANT'S DEATH BED. 
 
 Mark yonder Form, that statue-like appears 
 Inclining o'er the couch, her eyes with tears 
 O'erflowing, and her care-worn pallid face 
 Shaming the whiteness of Spring's early race. — 
 What bode the deep-drawn sigh, the solemn gloom, 
 The look solicitous, the curtain'd room ? — 
 
 Hush ! and as soft as breathing be each word, 
 Be not a footstep, not a whisper heard. 
 Slow draw the drapery, and see ! where lies 
 The Mother's First-born, panting for the skies. 
 There has he struggled livelong nights and days, 
 And there the Mother watches, there she prays. 
 If chance he sleep with transitory rest. 
 What hope transporting darts across her breast !
 
 108 AN infant's death bed. 
 
 But when she marks the agonized Boy, 
 
 " Father, Thy will be clone !" her lips employ. 
 
 He wanes, and soon will come the look'd-for hour, 
 When the last Foe will pluck the cherish'd flower. 
 Ah ! vain to hope for health returning bland ; 
 Oh ! who would wish avert the Spoiler's hand .'* 
 Bid tortur'd Innocence a moment stay ? — 
 Speed, tardy Spirit, Angels point the way !
 
 TO A RECENTLY-CAGED SKY LARK. 
 
 Bird of enchanting song ! whom wires inthral, 
 No more from clouds thou'lt pour thy melody ! 
 
 I blush for man, who can on Freedom call, 
 Yet thus unmindful, make a slave of thee ! 
 
 Like thee, the captive Soul, to grief a prey, 
 
 From all she priz'd, light, friends, companions, riven, 
 
 Panting, would burst the prison-house of clay. 
 And wing'd with glory, take her flight to Heaven ! 
 
 EPITAPH. 
 
 With fond regret, let Truth inscribe this stone — 
 Here slumbers One, belov'd as soon as known ; 
 With gentle virtues blest, that recommend 
 The Daughter, Sister, Wife, Companion, Friend.
 
 THE SOLDIER'S FAREWELL. 
 A SONG. 
 
 Air—" March of tlie Men of Marlecli." 
 
 Hark! — the deep-ton'd Bugle's sounding, 
 Thoughts of tranquil joys confounding, 
 Vain my sighs, my heart's rude bounding. 
 
 Duty calls from Thee ! 
 War's Torch is briskly lighting ; 
 E'en now the clash of fighting. 
 
 Fancy hears, 
 
 Away with fears ! 
 'Tis Honour's call inviting. 
 Farewell ! — Heaven's blessing greet Thee, 
 If again I ne'er may meet Thee, 
 Hear a Soldier's Heart entreat Thee — 
 
 Shed one Tear for me !
 
 THE soldier's FAREWELL. Ill 
 
 When the Fury, War, is sleeping, 
 And the midnight Watch I'm keeping, 
 Still will Thought be gaily reaping 
 
 Blissful Fields with Thee! 
 And when Danger's facing. 
 Thy Form shall I be tracing — 
 
 But, hark ! around, 
 
 The martial sound — 
 One sad, one last embracing ! — 
 Farewell ! — Heaven's blessing greet Thee, 
 If again I ne'er may meet Thee, 
 Hear a Soldier's Heart entreat Thee — 
 
 Shed one Tear for me I
 
 ON THE DEATH OF LORD BYRON. 
 
 The Earth with a mantle of gloom was o'ercast, 
 Mankind flock'd amaz'd, all desponding, undone, 
 
 As when Nature quakes at a merciless blast. 
 And Nations, untutor'd, behold the dark Sun. 
 
 A Voice of bewailing impregn'd the wild gale, 
 
 Greece* trembling stood as she first heard the moan ; 
 
 To each Country, each Island, how soon did it sail. 
 Where Learning is hail'd, or where Liberty's known ! 
 
 * Lord Byron died at Missolonghi, whither he had gone to 
 counsel and assist the Greeks, in defence of their liberties, then 
 threatened by the Turks.
 
 ON THE DEATH OF LORD BYRON. 113 
 
 'Twas Freedom that spoke — Oh ! how much did she bleed, 
 While forth from her eyes stream'd a glistening tide ; 
 
 Toil hurried from duty, and Pan dropt his reed, 
 And Britain her countenance veil'd, as she cried — 
 
 " Oh ! bend, all ye Nations, o'er Genius's grave ! 
 
 " Oh ! mourn a proud Spirit of Liberty fled ! 
 " The Star of Britannia, the boast of the brave, 
 
 " The Son of the Muses, My Byron, is dead !"
 
 ON THE 
 DEATH OF EDWARD CORBET, ESQ. 
 
 OF YNYSYMAENGWYN, MERIONETHSHIRE, 
 
 Scene — Near Ynysymaengwyn. 
 
 The Ocean has sunk into rest, 
 
 A murmur comes on with the gale, 
 
 As though from a Spirit distrest ; 
 
 And this is the heart-rending tale : 
 
 " He's gone I — the delight of the Plain ; 
 
 " Whose Muse Satire's terrors reveal'd ;* 
 " The scourge of the proud and the vain, 
 
 " And of Misery ever the shield. 
 
 * Mr. Corbet excelled in satirical and humorous composition.
 
 ON THE DEATH OF EDWARD CORBET, ESQ. 115 
 
 " He's gone ! — who ne'er listen'd unmov'd 
 
 " To the tale of misfortune or woe ; 
 " By the high, by the humble belov'd, 
 
 " And to tyranny ever a foe ! 
 
 " He's gone ! — who with humour beguil'd 
 
 " The Traveller bent on his way ; 
 " Who oft mid these valleys so wild, 
 
 " Surpris'd with his mirth-giving lay ! 
 
 " Hoarse Syni ! flow mournfully by, 
 
 " Lament thou the loss of his strain ! 
 
 " Ye Vales and ye Caverns, reply, 
 
 " We never shall hear him again !" — 
 
 Cease, Spirit, with grief to inspire ! 
 
 To the Muse fond remembrance springs : 
 Dark Sorrow o'ershadows her Lyre, 
 
 As faintly she touches its strings. 
 
 Oh Corbet ! how oft have we stood. 
 
 While Verse did our moments employ, 
 
 By the side of the grove and the flood : 
 'Tvvas a season of humour and joy !
 
 116 ON THE DEATH OF EDWARD CORBET, ESQ. 
 
 Oh Corbet ! 'twas thou that didst mark, 
 Attentive, my Muse's first flight, 
 
 And though it scarce show'd as a spark, 
 It seem'd, ah ! it seemhl to delight. 
 
 Though like the bright Sun thou art set, 
 To pleasure thou still givest birth ; 
 
 For thee who can ever forget, 
 
 Who has e'er known thy wit and thy worth ?
 
 THE VOICE OF EXPERIENCE. 
 
 I MET a man bow'cl down with years and pain, 
 
 Lonely and sad : with look of fix'd disdain 
 
 He wander'd from the scenes where dim-ey'd Care, 
 
 And Pleasure, mingled good and ill prepare. 
 
 Weary he seem'd : I linger'd to behold. 
 
 When thus, with many a sigh, Life's tale he told :- 
 
 " There's many a villain wears a smiling face ;* 
 Full many pine in undeserv'd disgrace ! 
 Life is a Drama, showy, shifting, vain, 
 In borrow'd guise mankind their parts sustain 
 As whim or interest leads : thou shalt behold 
 Riches in rags, and Poverty in gold. 
 
 Meet it is I set it down, 
 
 That one may smile and smile and be a villain." 
 
 Hamlet.
 
 118 THE VOICE OF EXPERIENCE. 
 
 To fairest Fame the shaft of Slander flies : 
 Wisdom may earn, but Folly gain the prize. 
 How many pant Ambition's height to gain ! 
 Arriv'd, the pleasure equals not the pain. 
 'Tis not in splendour comfort to impart, 
 A golden vest oft hides a hea\y heart. 
 Love is a meteor, whose fitful ray 
 Beams oft to lead Philosophy astray. 
 The cup of Friendship's sweet, yet oft you'll find, 
 When least expected, bitterness combined. 
 Pause, ere the ardent promise is believed ! 
 Mankind are still deceiving, still deceiv'd. 
 Wouldst thou have peace in poverty or wealth, 
 Be Heaven thy constant guide, distrust thyself."
 
 VILLAGE POLITICIANS. 
 
 The sanguine sun pursues his downward way, 
 And tips the azure mountains with his ray ; 
 The weary clouds repose in skies serene, 
 And listless zephyr leaves unfann'd the scene : 
 How sweet to roam at this unruffled hour. 
 And prove of Nature's charms the healing power ! 
 
 Around the busy eye transported roves 
 From field to flood, from hills to gilded groves ; 
 Marks where the kine (their luscious store withdrawn) 
 In silence press the mushroom-sprinkled lawn ; 
 Kens sons of Toil, with tir'd, but willing feet, 
 Bestride the moor, with thoughts of home replete ; 
 In yellow meads views Contemplation blest, 
 And Youth by Frolic, Age by Ease caress'd.
 
 120 VILLAGE POLITICIANS. 
 
 Down through the shaded glen the streamlet hies, 
 Like Beauty, stealing from inquiring eyes. 
 In waveless pool the swallow dips his wings, 
 As if enamour'd : now the welkin rings 
 With peals from yonder Tow'r, the valley's pride, 
 "Whose tremhling vane reflects the golden tide. 
 
 ! 'tis the hour from anxious musings free, 
 The hour of fragrance and of melody, 
 To social bosoms dear ; or, if alone. 
 When Fancy's richest fields are open thrown. 
 
 Yet, ah ! must joy still triumph as a dream ? 
 What art thou, Pleasure, but an evening gleam ? 
 Stay, fleeting phantom, stay ! ye lovely skies 
 Depart not yet ! Alas ! their beauty dies 
 With Phcebus, sinking in the west profound. 
 And Night's dim shadows thicken fast around. 
 Farewell the hills, late basking in the day ; 
 Hid is the valley in its mist aiTay ; 
 Yet still above the fog the hamlet rears 
 Its sombre tow'r, and curling smoke appears.
 
 VILLAGE POLITICIANS. 121 
 
 As one who long has felt the purest fires, 
 From whom a form belov'd in haste retires, 
 Consigning to regret : so do I stand, 
 The lone observer of the sunless land. 
 My eye unsated marks the gi'oves and glades, 
 Till every feature of the landscape fades. 
 
 But, see ! the Moon, on star-emblazon'd throne, 
 Like a pale empress comes, her realm to own. 
 O'er hills at first a partial light she sends. 
 At length an universal gleam extends. 
 Unnumber'd tears bespangle field and tree ; 
 The breeze awaking, swells with minstrelsy 
 Of falling stream ; while loud the screechowl's call, 
 From distant wood, upon the ear doth fall. 
 
 Adieu ye sighing shades, ye solemn channs ! 
 Hail shelter'd Village, hail thy lively swanns ! — 
 Pleas'd as I stray where comfort marks each door. 
 Hark ! whence that sound of mirth, that sudden roar ?- 
 'Tis from the Inn, where creaking swings to view 
 St. George the fam'd, who fierce the Dragon slew.
 
 122 VILLAGE POLITICIANS. 
 
 Assembled in the low and pictur'd room, 
 With noisome vapour fill'd, Tartarean gloom I 
 Through which the tapers scarce emit a light, 
 Are seen the Politicians of the night. 
 
 There sits the Master of the Village School, 
 In every contest eager still to rule : 
 Born to instruct, while other heads forget, 
 He tells, in sum exact, the Nation's debt : 
 And vows (while quakes the Tax-man at his rigour) 
 With such a load she makes a pretty figure ! 
 The hero of the Shuttle looks around, 
 Anxious awaiting combatant profound 
 In son of Vulcan, who at length draws nigh, 
 With breath to blast, and fire in either eye ! 
 The Barber there obsequious takes his place. 
 Familiarized with each oft-shaven face. 
 The Clerk with eloquence the Sexton scares. 
 Divided e'en on clerical affairs : 
 Conflicting as their bells that stun the people. 
 And shifting as the vane that tops their steeple ! 
 On each who has the courage to oppose, 
 His darts, like needles keen, the Tailor throws ;
 
 VILLAGE POLITICIANS. 123 
 
 While he who soles of all the parish mends, 
 
 With overbearing Farrier contends. 
 
 A Farmer, loving liquor and a jest, 
 
 Deigns for the night to linger as a guest ; 
 
 He, with the Landlord, ponders malt and hops, 
 
 And talks of politics, but dreams of crops. 
 
 In shady corner of the room delays 
 
 A Stranger, who, compos'd, the scene surveys ; 
 
 Mayhap a Traveller from neighbouring town, 
 
 Arriv'd to take his country orders down. — 
 
 Sons of the spade and plough, Herculean powers, 
 
 Drink, puff, and wonder through the stormy hours. 
 
 How pants each arguer for Village fame ! 
 Loud is the laugh, unbounded the acclaim 
 As either side prevails. With words of weight. 
 At length the Chairman settles Europe's fate ! 
 A pause, as when wild Neptune's rage is o'er, 
 Succeeds, then sudden swells a fresh uproar. 
 As when the dusky shades of evening rise, 
 A gathering cloud of rooks pervades the skies, 
 United clamours fill the frighted sphere ; 
 So, various voices, blending, shock the ear.
 
 124 VILLAGE POLITICIANS. 
 
 Contention chuckles her waiTn sons to see ; 
 
 Firm Prejudice inspires each votary ; 
 
 Commingling streams of sense and nonsense flow, 
 
 Yet every bosom owns the patriot-glow ; 
 
 Each boasts the breath that brightens Freedom's flame, 
 
 The courage that upholds Britannia's Name.
 
 SHROPSHIRE ALE. 
 A SONG. 
 
 Ye Mortals, the prey of vain Sorrow and thinking, 
 
 When Care is the weight in the scale, 
 There's nothing, believe me, can lift it like drinking 
 
 A magnum of good Shropshire Ale ! 
 
 With Ale, mighty Ale, through the arteries flowing, 
 
 All dangers the heart can assail : 
 Whene'er you see Hunters more daringly going, 
 
 Then mark the effects of good Ale ! 
 
 Let France, Spain, and Portugal hoast in their blindness, 
 
 Let Wine o'er their fancies prevail. 
 The bountiful Gods, in a moment of kindness, 
 
 To Britons gave courage and Ale !
 
 126 SHROPSHIRE ALE. 
 
 Oh ! tell me no more of Antiquity's glory, 
 
 For Victory cries on tlie gale — 
 Britannia shall Jiourish supremely in story. 
 
 While nurtured with Beef and with Ale ! 
 
 Let the Gods and tlie Poets deem Nectar a treasure, 
 
 Let Lovers on kisses regale, 
 Our Nectar, O Salop, our pride and our pleasure, 
 
 Is a Glass of thy generous Ale ! 
 
 Ye Spirits, in freedom and kindness excelling. 
 When ye would have pleasure prevail, 
 
 ! freely repair to the Shropshire-Man's Dwelling, 
 Where hearts are as stout as the Ale ! 
 
 Till Severn's bright fountain shall fairly be wasted. 
 Proud Salop, thy glory shall sail ! 
 
 Had whimsical Clarence* thy beverage tasted. 
 He sure had been drown'd in thy Ale ! 
 
 * Who has not heai-d of the fate of Clarence, brother to Edward 
 the Fourth ? who, — "being condemned, all the favoui- he could obtain 
 of the King was, to chuse the manner of his death." * * "He 
 desired to be di-owned in a butt of Malmsey." — Rapin. 
 
 " A whimsical choice, and implying that he had an extraordinary 
 passion for that Liquor." — Goldsmith.
 
 SHROPSHIRE ALE. 127 
 
 Shropshire ! the Land of good nature and mirth, 
 
 May thy joys, may thy Taps never fail ! 
 
 1 verily credit, should Jove walk the Earth, 
 
 He'd call for a Cup of thy Ale ! 
 
 Then hail Sons of Salop ! let no sorrow hreak in 
 
 Our merriment as we regale : 
 In a Bumper I pledge you — "All Friends round the 
 Wrekin !"— 
 
 And may they be stout as our Ale !
 
 THE BENEFIT NIGHT. 
 
 Bill Buskin, an Actor of country renown, 
 
 Of his Benefit Night advertises the Town, 
 
 And hopes a kind Public, and ev'ry good Friend, 
 
 Will do him the honour his Play to attend. 
 
 Long expected by Buskin, the play-time approaches. 
 
 But where are the Cabs, the Sedans, and the Coaches ? 
 
 No throng at the Playhouse, and look within walls, 
 
 No child of Impatience for harmony calls. 
 
 Just a score in the Pit, but the Boxes are lone, 
 
 And scarcely a God sits aloft on his Throne ! — 
 
 Next morn luckless Buskin the Manager sees, 
 
 And pays ev'ry cost, down to Door-keepers' fees. 
 
 Each charge having settled, what passion confounds, 
 
 To find himself minus by Ten precious pounds ! 
 
 " The Fiends take the Playhouse ! was ever such spite ? 
 
 That ruin should rise from a Benefit Night /"
 
 BACCHANALIAN SONG. 
 
 ADAPTED TO MOORE's — " FLY NOT YET." 
 
 Fly not yet, ye jovial Souls, 
 See ! the treasures of the bowls, 
 Sparkling, tempt the ruby lip, 
 A cuiTent, jolly Gods might sip. 
 
 So worthy taste divine ! 
 Now the glare of day is fled, 
 Beams from Pleasure's stars are shed, 
 Brighter and yet brighter glowing, 
 As the rosy fount is flowing ! 
 
 stay ! O stay ! — 
 What makes Pleasure look more fair, 
 What dispels the clouds of Care, 
 
 Like lovely, laughing Wine ?
 
 130 BACCHANALIAN SONG. 
 
 Fly not yet ! — the purple stream 
 Trouble even makes a dream ! 
 To our captivated eyes 
 Beauty's charming forms arise, 
 
 And Momus leads his train : 
 Wit and Mirth before us bow, 
 Love and Friendship warmer gi-ow ; 
 Precepts new we'll not be scorning, 
 Turn Teetotals — in the morning ! 
 
 O stay ! O stay ! 
 Fate may prove a ruthless foe, 
 Fortune's adverse gales may blow, 
 
 And we ne'er meet again.
 
 THE PROVINCE OF SATIRE. 
 
 To lash the follies of a guilty age, 
 
 To keep fair Truth unsullied on the stage, 
 
 To show to men that Virtue's steady laws 
 
 Teach where to yield, and where withhold, applause. 
 
 The Sat'rist draws his pen ; asham'd of those 
 
 \Vhose flatt'ring opiates give the base repose. 
 
 O ! would Apollo lend to me his power, 
 Would but the Muse descend in favouring hour. 
 Then, while of heavenly influence possest. 
 While all the Muse's fury fill'd my breast. 
 How would I paint foul Perfidy's disgrace ! 
 How quick unmask Hypocrisy's dark face ! 
 The titled Tyrant, basking in his state. 
 Scourge of humanity, whose will is ftite. 
 Should feel the shaft, tho' he ne'er felt before, 
 And ask— shall men still hate me, or adore ?— 
 And hail, thou simp'ring, hollow Vanity ! 
 Thy front of brass my glitt'ring butt should be. 
 
 K-2
 
 134 THE PROVINCE OF SATIRE, 
 
 Then^ Slander, raise thy shield ! — I'd plant my dart, 
 Oh ! with what joy, within thy ranc'rous heart. — 
 The rav'nous tribe, who make the poor their prey. 
 Should quake like monsters, dragg'd before the day. 
 And lo ! where purse-proud Ignorance appears — 
 Aim'd is the bolt, but — Pity interferes ! 
 Is there by Falsehood would his ends obtain ? 
 Lash'd be the wretch, till Truth asserts her reign. 
 Though Cunning, cloth'd in mail, her wiles pursue, 
 One stroke should bare the serpent to the view. 
 The Plotter foul 'gainst Liberty divine. 
 In everlasting infamy should pine. 
 With him who foams with patriotic froth, 
 Then sells his Country for a mess of broth. 
 No impious breast but should the probe endure. 
 And scorn should follow those beyond a cure. 
 
 Thus, lovely Virtue ! as my darts were thrown 
 At others' faults, I'd learn to mark my own ; 
 Thou still shouldst guide, and still the subject be, 
 For, scourging Vice is but exalting Thee !
 
 THE TOKEN. 
 
 Said Rosa, so gay, 
 As she rambled one day. 
 
 With Colin — " Our Friendship ne'er broken, 
 Nor clouded has been, 
 Yet we never have seen 
 
 Exchang'd of our Friendship a Token. 
 
 Here's mine," she exclaim'd, 
 " Not of costly nor fam'd," 
 
 And scarcely the words had she spoken, 
 An emerald crest 
 She plac'd on his breast, 
 
 Of Friendship her generous Token. 
 
 "Alas!" then his cry, 
 
 " What can I now supply ? 
 
 I wish that before you had spoken. 
 Or that I had thought, 
 And a present had brought. 
 
 To hail you with Friendship's pure Token."
 
 136 THE TOKEN. 
 
 As lie griev'd at his loss, 
 
 A briglit tliouglit came across, 
 
 (For Rosa had tenderly spoken,) 
 He sprang to her breast, 
 And her sweet lip he prest, 
 
 " There," said he, " is of Friendship my Token !' 
 
 Mix'd fear and surprise, 
 Beam'd forth from her eyes. 
 
 That thus all restraint he had broken, 
 And hanging her head. 
 Deeply blushing, she said — 
 
 " What a strange, what a singular Token !" 
 
 He made no reply. 
 But Cupid cried — " Fy ! 
 
 The Rules of my Grammar you've broken !" 
 And fiU'd with Love's terror. 
 Correcting his error, 
 
 Poor Colin made^;^wm/ The Token !
 
 JOHN BULL, 
 IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. 
 
 Proud of his Ancestry, of Glory vain, 
 
 Wedded to Prejudice, and rude Disdain. 
 
 Heart form'd for Prudence, staking all for Glee ; 
 
 Jealous of Freedom ; sly in Gallantry ; 
 Impatient of constraint, to wander prone 
 To foreign Lands, before lie knows his own. 
 On easy Neighbours wonted to intrench ; 
 Exulting at his conquest o'er the French. 
 Undreamt-of Wonders bringing quick to pass : 
 Scaring Night's Phantoms with a blaze of Gas ! 
 Panting o'er Wind and Tide to rule supreme, 
 Propelling Ships, and boiling Meat, by Steam ! 
 On Railways travelling with eastern ease : 
 Seeking a Passage through the frozen Seas. 
 Conceiving Catholics may breed a stonn ; 
 Musing how best to profit by Reform.
 
 138 JOHN BULL, IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. 
 
 With Emulation giddy ; Pride that glows 
 At all, from boasted Beef to Tulip Shows. 
 Patient beneath attacks upon his Fame : 
 Wild as Tornado, trespass on his Game ! 
 Seeking by Quackery to be reliev'd ; 
 Believing still, tho' fifty times deceiv'd. 
 Reserv'd and sullen 'neath Misfortune's stroke ; 
 Fierce in the fire of which he fear'd the smoke. 
 Blest, if caird in to settle Neighbours' cares, 
 Proud Arbitrator of the World's affairs ! 
 Ambition to no spot of Earth confin'd. 
 When Mis'ry calls, to every error blind. 
 Martyr to Faith ; unbending to his Foes : 
 In midst of plenty, magnifying woes ! 
 Railing, yet ever meddling with the Laws ; 
 Unconquer'd, e'en tho' Loser in a Cause. 
 For News and Politics still doom'd to roam, 
 Neglecting his own State Affairs at home. 
 Kind, yet with ceremony prone to move ; 
 Making a traffic of that passion — Love. 
 Loving his Bottle as he loves his Life ; 
 Proud of his Hunter almost as his Wife !
 
 JOHN BULL, IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. 139 
 
 Grudging a Farthing for a thing of course, 
 Expending Thousands on a Hobby Horse ! 
 Eager each fleeting bubble to pursue ; 
 To Honour faithful, and to Friendship true. 
 For Straws or Kingdoms ready still to fight, 
 Friend to the weak, a Stickler for the right. 
 A very Lion with his pockets full. — 
 Earth's Tyrants fear thy frown, terrific Bull !
 
 IRRESOLUTION 
 
 Hal vows by Cupid's wounds, profound and sore, 
 With all his Art, he ne'er shall tempt him more I 
 But when surpassing Beauty casts a ray, 
 Surpris'd, his firmest purpose fades away — 
 So when young Spring some languid valley cheers, 
 While here and there a snowy track appears ; 
 Each drift diminishes as day revolves : 
 Thus Hal, so resolute, melt thy resolves ! 
 
 EPIGRAM. 
 
 " Dulce et decorum est pro Patiia moi-i." 
 
 For Country sweet it is to die^ 
 The Roman and the Patriot-cry : 
 But Placemen this Translation give — 
 How sweet for Country 'tis to live !
 
 THE TRAVELLER AND THE LANDLORD. 
 A TALE. 
 
 A Gentleman of fortune and of birth, 
 For kindness fam'd, for talent, and for mirth, 
 From London's lofty towers his course extends. 
 To hail his tenants and his country friends. 
 No rails were then : his horses fleet and gay, 
 With crests erect, his vehicle convey : 
 And soon its mirthful Inmate hails a Town ; 
 The giddy Chariot stops, and he steps down. 
 Soon from the bustling Inn, with face of glee. 
 
 The Landlord bends in view ; 
 The Stranger asks, with mock simplicity, 
 
 " And pray, Sir, ivho are you ?" 
 The Landlord star'd, as if he'd been stuck through f 
 But though he felt the strange demand 
 
 Like some disaster, 
 Replied — " Sir ! I'm your Servant, and 
 
 "This House's Master."—
 
 142 THE TRAVELLER AND THE LANDLORD. 
 
 " Oh dear ! the Master of tlie House, and pray 
 
 " Have you a Wife, good Master Landlord — say ?"- 
 
 The Landlord, more amaz'd, look'd stedfast down. 
 
 And ponder'd if 'twere better smile or frown. 
 
 At length recovering from the fresh surprise, 
 
 " I have a Wife, a good one too /" he cries. — 
 
 " What ! married, Master Landlord, do you say ? 
 Ye Gods, what wonders am I born to see ! 
 
 Through all my life I've trod a chequer'd way, 
 But what a wonder do I meet in thee ! 
 I've just return'd from London's crowded streets, 
 Where wonder upon wonder ever meets 
 
 The view ; each tribe from elephant to mouse 
 Have seen, and all the wonders of the Tower, 
 But never such a Wonder as this hour — 
 
 A married Man, the Master of his house .'"
 
 LOVE AND PARLIAMENT. 
 
 Love is liken'd to those who at Westminster spout, 
 On matters of State and of Steeple ;* 
 
 To-day they make vows, which to-morrow they flout, 
 And they rule by consent of the People. 
 
 In Parliament oft, lest the Members be blam'd. 
 Delay marks a thing of concernment. 
 
 And Lovers, alas ! tho' the Wedding-day's nam'd, 
 Oft fearfully vote an Adjournment ! 
 
 For the close of a Session the Ministers sigh, 
 (Fatigued by the cares of the Nation) 
 
 And Lovers, whom fears or whom quarrels make shy, 
 Rejoice at a kind Prorogation ! 
 
 * The Critic is requested to think of matters of Church, and 
 kindly to overlook the " Steeple."
 
 144 LOVE AND PARLIAMENT. 
 
 But, oh I what dismay and confusion are seen, 
 When Pow'r speaks his dread resolution, 
 
 When Parent or Aunt, like a King or a Queen, 
 Commands a complete Dissolution ! — 
 
 Ye Nymphs and ye Swains, who have felt how severe, 
 
 Is Lovers' distress when they sever, 
 In Love's Parliament may ye soon re-appear, 
 
 Return'd loyal Members for ever !
 
 THE BOISTEROUS SINGER. 
 
 No earthly sounds, 'tis said, can cheer, 
 Like mortal notes, so liquid clear ; 
 That birds, who in the groves complain, 
 Must yield to man's diviner strain : 
 But me, ye Gods ! to woods consign, 
 If that's the human voice divine ! 
 
 Lo ! how the screechowls crowd around, 
 Attracted by the mimic sound : 
 Hark ! how the croaking frogs rejoice, 
 Enamour'd of the rival voice ! 
 
 'Tis fabled, round the honey'd tongue 
 Of Pindar, bees to banquet hung;
 
 146 THE BOISTEROUS SINGER. 
 
 But bees, if chance they hear thee sing, 
 Would scorn to sip, and use a sting — 
 Thou like Demosthenes dost roar, 
 With pebbled mouth upon the shore ! 
 
 Go where rough Ocean rends the rocks, 
 Go, where the rumbling earthquake shocks, 
 Or where the storm and thunder blend, 
 Or the huge cataracts descend : 
 Oh ! none can doubt but you'll agree 
 With Nature's i-udest harmony !
 
 THE TIME TO PLAY AT CARDS. 
 
 When Scott's wild witchery is o'er, 
 When Byron's verse can charm no more ; 
 When Milton's heavenly Muse we scout, 
 And Shakspeare's magic light is out ; 
 When Ratcliffe, Smollet, Irving, Fielding, 
 Have lost the power of pleasure yielding ; 
 When Music is no longer blended, 
 And Humour's stories all are ended ; 
 When Sense, nor Wit, nor Mirth regards. 
 Then is — the time to flay at Cards ! 
 
 ON A PERSON SUDDENLY GROWN RICH, 
 SLIGHTING HIS FORMER ASSOCIATES. 
 
 Blame not that Cr(esus seldom bends- 
 Puff 'd up by Pride and Pelf ! 
 
 How should he know his foiTier friends, 
 When he forgets himself P
 
 THE PROGLESS TOURIST, AMONGST THE 
 WILDS OF PLYNLIMMON. 
 
 I've wander'd o'er moor and through dell, 
 Like Syntax, all pensive, alone. 
 
 To try if in verse I might tell 
 
 The charms simple Nature doth own. 
 
 But Phoebus burns all things around, 
 
 The Sheep are just dying for shade. 
 
 The summits with Cattle are crown'd. 
 
 To catch every breath that is play'd. 
 
 And my Muse, who in Nature delights, 
 Who deems her enchanting, divine ! 
 
 This moment, from towering heights. 
 Would turn to a flagon of wine ! 
 
 But where shall we turn, gentle Ghost ? 
 
 Oh ! whither our spirits to cheer ? 
 Not a drop in my flask can I boast. 
 
 No Sign of an Inn is there near !
 
 THE PROGLESS TOURIST. 149 
 
 'Tis trae the Rills flow undefil'd, 
 
 And easy it is to believe, 
 O, Wallia ! wond'rously wild, 
 
 What joy to Teetotals you give ! 
 
 How charming the forms of yon dells ! 
 
 How graceful the slopes of each waste ! 
 But Appetite forcibly tells 
 
 There's another description of taste ! 
 
 Ye Tourists of happier lot, 
 
 May you and the Glasdwr* agree ! 
 While with Shepherds ye chat in the Cot, 
 
 The Inn in the valley for me ! 
 
 And again to yon glens when I go, 
 
 (Forbear, Mother Nature, to chide !) 
 By the Leek upon Cambria's brow. 
 
 It shall be with Prog at my side ! 
 
 * A beverage composed of milk, or buttei-milk and water, literally, 
 BLUE water; not QUITE SO palatable as Bloomiield's Suflfolk 
 
 " Thrice three times skiram'd sky-blue."
 
 SHREWSBURY SHOW. 
 
 AN EPISTLE TO A FRIEND. 
 
 Dear Colin, you doubtless have often been told 
 Of the custom in Salop establish'd of old, 
 But ne'er has it been your rare fortune to know, 
 From inspection, the nature of Shrewsbury Show. 
 The moments for Labour and Study are past; 
 To you I'm a Debtor; 'twas you that wrote last; 
 No ramble this Evening, the clouds so combine, 
 So I'll try at a Sketch ; even take it in rhjme ; 
 That's a false one I own ; yet the metre I send 
 May conjure a smile to the face of a Friend. 
 
 Our jolly Forefathers, the patrons of cheer, 
 Resolv'd on a Jubilee once in a Year, 
 And to hinder the troubles Equality brings. 
 Like King-making Warwick, turn'd Makers of Kings.
 
 SHREWSBURY SHOW. 151 
 
 (This origin may not of Truth bear the friction, 
 But Lovers of Rhyme still are Lovers of Fiction.)* 
 
 When Spring and gay Summer contend for the hours, 
 " Show Monday" appears, crown'd with fruits and with 
 
 flow'rs ; 
 Then our Kings make a " Show" — a " Turn out"— a 
 
 Display — 
 Assemble, and cry — " To our States come away !" — 
 
 On a Summit adjacent, almost within sound 
 Of Severn's sweet murmurs, these States may be found ; 
 There " Arbours" arise : trees their shelter bestow, 
 Adorning the Seats where their Majesties go. 
 
 When "Show Monday" comes, should the morning 
 prove fine. 
 You'd think Joy had lit on some golden design : 
 What bustle, what frolic appear in the Streets ! 
 With a smile every Neighbour his glad Neighbour greets ; 
 While all the kind Speeches, so softly that flow. 
 Concluding, inquire — " Do you go to the Show ?" 
 
 * The origin of this Pageanti-y may be found in " Owen's ancient 
 and present State of Shrewsbury, 1808."
 
 152 SHREWSBURY SHOW. 
 
 You may read in the features of every young Elf, 
 " Dull business to-clay may look after itself !" 
 In tlie Windows, wide open, on every side, 
 See ! Beauties, awaiting of Splendour the tide ! 
 And as on these Roses you cast your eyes round, 
 Some fresh from the Country are sure to be found. 
 Expectation pervades every bosom that day : 
 But, hark ! a salute — they are coming this way ! 
 One impulse of pleasure the Concourse enjoys : 
 Forth scamper Maids, Shopmen, old Women and Boys, 
 To try with a prospect which first shall be blest. 
 As if the first sio:ht were the brightest and best ! 
 
 But, — softly the Cavalcade moves into sight, 
 The Trumpet first speaking the gen'ral delight : 
 Now Harmony swells on the full, raptur'd gale ; 
 Drum answers to Fife, and soft Fiddles prevail ; 
 And bright as when Phoebus morn's mist pierces through, 
 The full beams of Majesty burst on the view ! 
 See ! gracefully curling, light Flags cleave the air, 
 And what a profusion of Ribands is there ! 
 Crown rivals Crown, in rich Feathers array'd, 
 And on moves the Svmbol of many a Trade.
 
 SHREWSBURY SHOW. 163 
 
 As slowly the featlier-crown'd Kings are advancing, 
 They bow to the gazers, their chargers high prancing ! 
 (Condescension in Kings ! — was it ever surpass'd ?) 
 A crowd of Pedestrians follows the last. 
 
 And now to his " Arbour" on Kingsland extends 
 Each Monarch his course, where his proud journey ends ; 
 Where gentle Salopia pours out her cheer : 
 The foaming Brown Stout, and choice viands appear : 
 Adieu to all splendour, all form, and all thinking ! 
 What are Splendour and State, without eating and drinking ? 
 
 On Kingsland soon Frolic commences his reign, 
 And to join in the dance e'en their Majesties deign ; 
 While around spread such rapture and mirth every where, 
 Full Kingsland may vie with Bartholomew Fair ! 
 
 O Colin ! believe me, 'twould stagger belief 
 The havoc there made on Hams, Chickens, and Beef ! 
 The bumpers that foam in each Booth on the ground, 
 " Success to old Salop !" still echoing round. — 
 From a subject so lofty shall no moral spring ? 
 (Uninform'd by a moral no Rhymster should sing.)
 
 154 SHREWSBURY SHOW. 
 
 As I muse on the Pageanliy " Show Monday" brings, 
 I cry — Sure no Satire is meant upon Kings ! 
 How blest, could we view, in the Nations around, 
 Firm Zeal and Hilarity follow the crown'd ! 
 How happy, were Kings, as our own, only vain 
 Of Freedom and Cheerfulness fonning their train ! 
 
 Hail Kings of proud Salop ! contented and free ! 
 Though your Subjects may riot, ye ne'er disagree ! 
 Unlike the designing, rude Saxons of yore, 
 "VYlio quarrelled, until their poor States were no more ! 
 Hail Kings of proud Salop ! tho' short is the span 
 Ye triumph, a pattern of mildness to man ! 
 In remembrance ye flourish ; no treason may fear ; 
 Your Crowns shall be ready to deck you — next Year ! 
 
 POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 I SHOULD have infonu'd you, that after the day 
 When their Majesties meet for the gen'ral Display, 
 In Parties they visit the Provinces round, 
 As if on some fearful Campaign they were bound ; 
 But something comes o'er me to prompt the belief, 
 There's little in danger but Barrels and Beef!
 
 AN INCONSTANT. 
 
 By the sparkling of thine Eye, 
 
 By thy Lips, of ruby die. 
 
 By thy glossy, raven Locks, 
 
 By thy Brow, that ivory mocks, 
 
 By thy Bosom, prone to sigh. 
 
 By thy Breath of fragrancy. 
 
 By each hov'ring Grace I see, 
 
 I swear I'll wed with none but Thee ! 
 
 Thus, yestermorn, with earnest brow, 
 Damon to Ruth was heard to vow, 
 To-day (the Muse with blushes tells,) 
 His Bride is Kate — so say the Bells ! 
 
 ANOTHER. 
 
 Flirtilla gladdens like the Sun, 
 So genial is her feature : 
 
 Oh ! were she not so like the Sun, 
 That shines on evenj creature !
 
 GREAT BARDS, AND TRIFLING SUBJECTS. 
 
 "Hail, Bards Triumphant !"— Pope. 
 
 The Muses by Trifles to woo them entice : 
 
 Great Homer delights with his Frogs ajid his Mice ; (^) 
 
 The Prince of the Poets informs of the shock 
 
 Belinda received from " The Rape of a Lock ;" 
 
 To his " Pennyless Purse''' hear old Chaucer complain ; 
 
 Hear Gay give his Rules how to walk in the Rain ; (2) 
 
 Gray tenderly sings of a CaVs sudden fate, (3) 
 
 And Shenstone laments o'er a KicVs dying state. (^) 
 
 A Cur, sung by Goldsmith, lights humour's gay spark : (^) 
 
 Burns sang to " A Daisy," and Thomson " A Lark." 
 
 (1) Battle of the Frogs and Mice, atti-ibuted to Homer. 
 
 (2) "Trivia, or the Art of Walking the Streets of London. 
 
 (3) " Ode on the Death of Mr. Walpole's Cat." 
 
 (4) "The dying Kid." 
 
 (5) " Elegy on the Death of a Mad Dog."
 
 GREAT BARDS, AND TRIFLING SUBJECTS. 157 
 
 How sweetly doth Milton Night's Songster address ! (i) 
 
 Thy " Garland," O Prior, still wakens distress ! (2) 
 
 Hear the " Redbreast" of Langhorne his sad notes employ ! (3) 
 
 O Bloomfield ! Time heightens the bloom of thy " Boy." 
 
 Mark White's humble " Taper" pale glimmerings fling; (*) 
 
 His " Emmet," see Watts, and his " Bud," Waller bring. 
 
 " On a Tear," gentle Rogers, thy feeling's display'd ; 
 
 His " Task" of a Sofa, lo! Cowper has made. 
 
 On a "Shilling" how splendidly/ Phillips has writ ! (5) 
 
 And Byron a "Scull" has adorn'd with his wit. (6) 
 
 A Gloivicorm assumes a poetical clothing : (7) 
 
 And Shakspeare has made " Much ado about Nothing .'" 
 
 (1) " Sonnet, To the Nightingale." 
 
 (2) Prior's " Garland" is a i^athetic Effusion. 
 
 (3) " Monody : sung hy a Redbreast." 
 
 (4) " Sonnet, To a Taper," by Henry Kirke White. 
 
 (5) " The Splendid Shilling." 
 
 (6) " Lines inscribed upon a Cup formed from a Scull." 
 
 (7) " Ode to a Glowworm," by Peter Pindar.
 
 PARTY, 
 
 In chequer'd robe array'd, with earnest face, 
 And figure of insinuating grace, 
 With eye to soften, aspect to command, 
 See Party, conscious of dominion stand. 
 Her high behests, lo ! polish'd States attend, 
 While savage Nations to her mandates bend ; 
 Through her see tranquil blessings reign around, 
 Through her the various woes of war confound, 
 Justice preverted, Altars rear'd and spurn'd, 
 Now Freedom rais'd to life, and now inurn'd. 
 Ye Kings ! what are the powers ye boast your own, 
 When she exults in secret o'er each throne ? 
 
 Among the earth's inhabitants she roves, 
 And individual vice and virtue proves :
 
 159 
 
 The slavish breast commands more slavish grow, 
 To liberty vouchsafes a wanner glow ; 
 As passions promp to hononr, or debase, 
 Beneath her banners list the human race. 
 
 How lost to virtue who with Party weds. 
 Against the rays attendant knowledge sheds, 
 Who, won by Plutus, hastens to comply. 
 Without one thought for bleeding Liberty ! 
 If such a blot Britannia's shore defile, 
 (And, oh ! a serious doubt would prompt a smile), 
 May Fortune, in a moment of despite, 
 Desert him, show the vulture to the light ; 
 Dishonour 'd may he find a nameless grave, 
 Unless by Scorn his tomb's inscrib'd — " A Slave /" 
 
 Is there, though rich, oppos'd to Freedom's plan, 
 A vain, ambitious, state-leviathan, 
 Leader of Party, for the cursed sake. 
 To think at him a free-born people quake ? 
 Alas ! he dreams not, should the lightning fall, 
 He scarce can 'scape, obnoxious over all ; 
 If strength, like mighty Samson's, be display'd, 
 He cannot shun the ruin he has made.
 
 160 PARTY. 
 
 What, thougli some sudden check the State relieve, 
 Can hearts that love their country e'er forgive ? 
 Methinks I mark Contempt pursue his name, 
 While Liberty returns with sweet acclaim : 
 He seeks for peace but in the arms of death, 
 And 'mid a Nations triumph yields his breath. 
 
 There are to no fix'd principles sincere. 
 As vaunting Leaders shift, like vanes they veer, 
 With whom 'tis policy no breath to brave : 
 Unladen hulls, the sport of every wave ! 
 Counted they weigh, and Freedom oft bewails 
 Against her cause Inanity prevails. 
 
 Blest be the men, whose ardent spirits feel 
 Above all interests, for the public weal. 
 With rising ills each good that springs to view. 
 First to discern, and foremost to pursue ; 
 Who, fill'd with grief and indignation, stand 
 To stem corruption, from whatever hand ; 
 Jealous of right, prepar'd, in every hour. 
 To brand with infamy encroaching Power. 
 O ! though unequal to the mighty stream, 
 In conscious rectitude they feel supreme :
 
 161 
 
 Though Ignorance upbraid, and Envy scorn, 
 Their Country owns them as her dearest born 
 For them recording Muses shall entwine 
 Unfading wreaths, to deathless fame consign. 
 
 Be such (the boast of Britain) ever found. 
 By adamantine links of Party bound !
 
 THE TASK. 
 
 Oh ! vaunt ye no longer of Africa's Traveller, 
 Gallantly tho' he essay'd to unravel her ; 
 Of Picton, Hill, Wellington, no longer boast; 
 Of Parry, 'mongst Icebergs confounded and tost ; 
 Of York's Navigator, great Cook the renown'd, 
 Who voyaged old Terra just three times around : 
 Had either the courage to come to the charge, 
 Have they fought, travell'd, voyag'd " The Statutes 
 AT Large ?" 
 
 ON A BEE STINGING A TOPER'S NOSE. 
 
 Mistook his Nose for scarlet flower, 
 Instead of honey, gall he found. 
 No wonder that he left a wound !
 
 NO AND YES. 
 
 Since Boys to the Spelling-Book bound, 
 When lisping the language would flow, 
 
 What wonderful diff'rence we've found. 
 Between Y— E— S, and N— ! 
 
 Though vast be of Speech the parade. 
 Of Lords who with Eloquence glow, 
 
 I trow more effects are display'd 
 By the great Monosyllable — No ! 
 
 Ask a Statesman to get you a Place, 
 To Ambition how quick is the blow, 
 
 If he speak, without kindness or grace. 
 The flat Monosyllable— No ! 
 
 Ask your Doctor to let you take Wine, 
 
 From fever recovering slow, 
 How the clouds o'er your features combine, 
 
 While he ponders, and shrugs, and says — No
 
 164 NO AND YES. 
 
 If haply of Lawyers tlie sport, 
 In astonishment how do you grow, 
 
 When you ask if you've chance in the Court, 
 With a shake of the Wig they say — No ! 
 
 'Mid Election's confusion and clangs. 
 Huge talents the Candidates show. 
 
 Yet what are their florid harangues, 
 Compared to a Burgess's — No ? 
 
 When Members would lop a Supply, 
 While Speeches like Torrents o'erflow, 
 
 The Ministry cooly rely 
 
 On Tongues that can only say — No ! 
 
 The Damsel, 'twere vain to dispute. 
 Your towering hopes doth o'erthrow. 
 
 When quick she replies to your suit 
 By the dull Monosyllable — No ! 
 
 Thus NO is the cloud spreading nigh, 
 In 'midst of our glee to depress ; 
 
 The sun-beam that plays in the sky, 
 Is the bright Monosyllable — Yes !
 
 NO AND YES. 165 
 
 Word, flowing with accent divine ! 
 
 And could I illumine the Press, 
 
 Like Iris thou ever shouldst shine. 
 
 Resplendent, sweet-promising — Yes ! 
 
 0, music of sweetest degree, 
 
 When Beauty, Truth, Virtue express ! 
 
 The flower of all Tongues wouldst thou be, 
 Would Phyllis but whisper me — Yes ! 
 
 m2
 
 RULES IN RHYME, 
 
 THE PARENTS' GUIDE, 
 
 TO FORM BY TIME 
 THEIR ELDEST PRIDE. 
 
 Attend, ye Parents ! a well-approv'd plan, 
 
 For training your Heir for a prime Gentleman. 
 
 I know you will say — " Pope and Swift wrote to clear us. 
 
 On difficult points, in their life of Scriblerus." — 
 
 To Lectures in prose ye but little attend, 
 
 But here's one in metre — to read condescend ! 
 
 At home first ensure him an absolute rule ; 
 Forbid both the Rod and the Task at the School. 
 To be vers'd in the World he should early move in it, 
 With the Grooms let him therefore spend every spare minute. 
 To give him a spirit to master the Flats, 
 Let him flog all the Spaniels and torture the Cats. 
 'Twould Cowardice teach him to bend to control, 
 'Gainst his Tutor then suffer his passion to roll.
 
 RULES IN RHYME. 167 
 
 If for learning lie never display a delight, 
 
 Never heed it, much reading may injure his sight. 
 
 His Mind too may suffer from ardently thinking : 
 
 Let the height of his labour be eating and drinking. 
 
 Let him follow whatever his fancy delight in, — 
 
 Mouse-trapping, frog-sticking, ass-flogging, dog-fighting ; 
 
 These will teach circumspection, if e'er he should go 
 
 To the Wars, he will hence learn to pounce on the Foe : 
 
 And in daring exploits he will learn to prevail 
 
 By sticking a pin through a Cockchafer's tail. 
 
 For his Playmates a couple of Cousins retain ; 
 
 If poor, much the better, they'll never complain 
 
 Of the usage they'll get ; let him treat them as chaff. 
 
 And mind at his cruelties always to laugh. 
 
 Thus perhaps Alexander his talents unfurl'd, 
 
 Subdued first his PlajTuates, then conquer'd the World ! 
 
 A Cur for a bone will a battle maintain. 
 
 And Rooks rush to fight for a worm on the plain ; 
 
 By examples like these you may teach the young elf 
 
 That the first law of Life should be — care for himself. 
 
 And beware lest a Beggar he slyly may feed, 
 
 For Charity may to extravagance lead. 
 
 O'er your Neighbour's high walls should there hang any fruit. 
 
 Let him scale them, 'twill make his dexterity shoot.
 
 168 FULES IN RHYME. 
 
 Let him learn to contemn the Professions and Trades ; 
 Let him quaff with the Butler and flirt with the Maids. 
 Over all as he triumphs in sovereign ascendance, 
 Each insult he gives only marts independence ! 
 
 On these Rules, doting Parents, attention bestow, 
 
 And you'll " train up your Child z/j." ■ 
 
 The rest you well know.
 
 THE PLAGIARIST. 
 
 The lordly Thames, exulting in his course, 
 From tributary streams derives his force ; 
 The rills and rivers in his current lost, 
 Their names and dignity no longer boast : 
 So Tyro's verse, to sudden vigour grown, 
 Swells with a tide of beauty not its own : 
 What foreign splendour doth his verse reveal ! 
 O Tyro ! learn to hide as well as steal ; 
 If you must, like a stream, bear streams away. 
 Blend, like the stream, completely with your prey 
 For who but marks, by many a cloudy line, 
 How ill with purity doth mud combine ! 
 
 EPIGRAM. 
 
 Rich Varro flies to view the Wild Beast clan, 
 Throws sixpence down, darts to the Caravan ; 
 The Keeper cries. Gents shillings pay — you can ! — 
 Zounds, thunders Varro — I'm no Gentleman !
 
 TO A CELEBRATED CLOWN. 
 
 Hail, Master of the Protean art, 
 
 Train'd up in crooked ways, 
 Whose Body, in a moment's space, 
 
 A dozen shapes displays ! 
 
 Hail rival of the bounding Roe ! 
 
 In whom the Graces meet. 
 Who walk'st more gracefully with hands, 
 
 Than many do with feet ! 
 
 Can Lovers of the Drama say 
 
 By mind thou art not fed. 
 When, wond'ring, they thy body see 
 
 Supported by thy head P 
 
 Each attitude, each gibe, and leer 
 
 Doth close attention fix: 
 And conscious Statesmen, as they see, 
 
 Extol thy shiftincj tncks !
 
 TO A CELEBRATED CLOWN. 171 
 
 To Tongues indebted for their fame 
 
 Are Lords of Parliament, 
 But you more wondrously succeed — 
 
 Tho' mutc^ yet eioqucnt ! 
 
 O ! still thy chanrjeful course pursue, 
 
 Our consiant smiles to win ; 
 Slill banish Spleen before thy look, 
 
 Kill SoiTow with thy grin! 
 
 A merry Satirist art thou, 
 
 And speak iu all your glee — 
 Let those who iie^er hy Foofry live, 
 
 A finger point at me !
 
 PRIOR'S EPIGRAM IMITATED. 
 
 THE EPIGRAM. 
 
 " Yes ! every Poet is a Fool, 
 
 By demonstration Ned can shoiv it 
 
 Happy, could Ned''s inverted rule 
 Prove every Fool to be a Poet.^^ 
 
 IMITATION. 
 
 Yes ! every Lawyer is a Knave, 
 Of Peace tlie merciless destroyer ; 
 
 Happy, one thought remains to save — 
 That every Knave is not a Lawyer. 
 
 NO CURE, NO PAY. 
 
 When quacking Pill first practice tried, 
 "No cure, no pay !" he proudly cried. 
 
 But now laments the day : 
 What wonder Pill so fumes and frets ? 
 His Patients few, of those he gets, 
 
 How few survive to pay !
 
 THE SHOOTER'S SONG. 
 
 Horse-Racing, Cock-Figliting, let others cleliglit in, 
 Unenvied shall still he their pleasure ; 
 
 Blest with Dog and with Gun, other pastimes I shun, 
 A Covey my choicest of treasure ! 
 
 Woo'd by Health, all the day, with my Pointers I stray, 
 Through woodlands and fields without number ; 
 
 And at evening I rest, with a friend for my Guest, 
 Ambition ne'er troubles my slumber. 
 
 How sweet 'tis to view, my Pointers, all true. 
 As o'er the wide Stubble they're ranging ; 
 
 And stanch when they stand, for Canova's fine hand. 
 What Subjects of beauty unchanging !
 
 174 THE shooter's song. 
 
 Let Coursers prepare, to pursue the fleet Hare, 
 
 I'll prove beyond doubt or disputing, 
 Though Coursing excite, the World take delight 
 
 In being shot at, and in shooting. 
 
 Both mighty and low, are expert at a Bow : 
 
 Some people, 'tis true, draw a long one. 
 But when they do that, oft themselves they lay flat : 
 
 Ulysses, the fam'd, drew a strong one. 
 
 On Parliament gi'ound, prime Shooters abound, 
 
 And Game springs in every Discussion ; 
 Among those fam'd Wits, full as smart are the hits, 
 
 As if they us'd Forsyth's Percussion. 
 
 To the Satirist's eyes, what Quarry doth rise, 
 Who his shot sends at Folly while flying ! 
 
 Many Birds are astounded, whom bright eyes have wounded. 
 Some feather'd, some wing'd, and some dying ! 
 
 The Lawyers so sly, have a levelling eye, 
 
 And Clients full-pledg'd are their quarry ! 
 
 Their victims, such lots ! prove them excellent Shots : 
 Far and wide do their long barrels carry.
 
 THE shooter's SONG. 176 
 
 With Pills aim'd so true, as our Shot round and blue, 
 
 The Doctors replenish their larder ; 
 Whatever assails, dead Game tell no tales, 
 
 Oh ! none can hit surer or harder. — 
 
 Push, push round the howl, yield to Mu'th's gay control. 
 
 Of shooting who is not a lover ? 
 If Sportsmen you dread, to save purse and head, 
 
 Take mj fee-less advice — keep in Cover !
 
 HUNTING SONG. 
 
 Diana one mom, 
 
 When dew deck'd the thorn, 
 
 Heard Sportsmen contending, a gallant array, 
 The Question rehears'd. 
 Of Sports which the first, 
 With Greyhounds or Pointers to ramble. 
 
 Or Reynard see stealing away ? 
 
 A Courser advanc'd 
 That he felt as entranc'd. 
 
 On lawn or on fallow when Puss was espied ; 
 When forward she ran. 
 And the struggle began, 
 There ne'er was a scene so exciting. 
 
 To all that is charming allied.
 
 HU[4TING SONG. 177 
 
 A Shooter exclaim'd, 
 That whenever he aim'd, 
 
 He triumph'd with fullest of measure in bliss, 
 And those who the Gun, 
 For other sports shun, 
 Were certain, like bungling Marksmen, 
 
 The Prince of Enjoyments to miss. 
 
 Last a Foxhunter cried. 
 
 His heart swelling with pride. 
 
 With voice all-astounding that shook like a blast : 
 " By the Gods do I swear. 
 That with Fox or with Hare, 
 Nought equals a gallant view halloo, 
 
 Excepting the Death at the last !" 
 
 Here stopt the debate. 
 All exulting, all great : 
 
 His taste to the other would neither submit. 
 When turning aside, 
 The Goddess they spied. 
 And bending implor'd her opinion. 
 
 For she should the Arbitress sit.
 
 178 HUNTING SONG. 
 
 " Cease, cease, Brothers Ikm'd." 
 Diana exclai.m'd, 
 
 " No longer let notes of coDLention be spread, 
 Since the Gods long decreed. 
 The Chase take the lead, 
 Forget ye that / am its Patron, 
 
 And therefore of Sporting the head ?" 
 
 Round the Foxhunter's head, 
 A halo was shed. 
 
 And her hand did the heavenly Huntress extend ; 
 Then onward she flew, 
 Exclaiming, " Pursue 
 Your course, all in honour exceeding. 
 
 And I every Chase will attend !" 
 
 Then haste daring Souls, 
 Bathe the brims of your Bowls, 
 
 To lovely Dlana, with Freedom who dwells; 
 O'er the boldest that rides 
 The Goddess presides : 
 Here's — "Noble Foxhunting for ever," 
 
 The Sport that all others excels !
 
 FEAST OF JUPITER. 
 A VISION. 
 
 When flowers were springing in beautiful May, 
 Overcome by the pow'r of Sol's noontide ray, 
 Reclin'd on a bank where the violet blows, 
 To my slumbering' sense a bright Vision arose. 
 
 Methought on his ivory, cloud-mantled Throne, 
 The God of dread Thunder sat musing alone ; — 
 He cried — " On Olympus a Feast shall be given. 
 Surpassing whate'er has been witness'd in Heaven." 
 
 Soon a signal went round from the Herald divine. 
 And Deities swift from all quarters incline : 
 All eagerly listen the Ruler's desire, 
 And straight to prepare for the Banquet retire.
 
 180 FEAST OF JUPITER, 
 
 Pomona culls Fruits in exuberant bowers ; 
 
 To set off their bloom Flora hastens with Flowers, 
 
 And bountiful Bacchus^ with sparkling eye, 
 
 A fountain of Nectar advanc'cl to supply. 
 
 The Viands all ready, before they were laid, 
 Jove Mercury beckon'd, and smilingly said : 
 " Go, prove all the Nations, the brightest and best 
 Of Earth's many Rulers invite for my Guest." — 
 
 As a dart from the Bow mighty Illiacus drew. 
 Through ether the swift-winged Messenger flew : 
 He moves through the vapours by Phcehus's ray 
 Preceded, wild ^olus urging his way. 
 
 With languishing look, and in frolicsome mood, 
 Before his keen vision first Gallia (i) stood : 
 Attractive at distance, but when he drew near, 
 She wanted the Virtues that fix and endear. 
 
 Encircled by brightness, with eyes of delight. 
 The chanting Italia (-) mov'd in his sight : 
 
 (1) France. (2) Italy.
 
 ksi 
 
 But he fancied she shudder'd at faintest alarms, 
 And Faithfulness wanted to stamp all her charms. 
 
 The God on Helvetia (3) paus'd for a while : 
 Though cold was her Climate, yet warm was her Smile, 
 Full neat was her Vesture, and hardy her Frame ; 
 But Poverty seem'd close allied to the Dame. 
 
 Her Figure athletic Ger]\iania(^) shows : 
 Around her a halo of Genius glows ; 
 Resolution and Courage were mix'd in her air, 
 But vainly he look'd for Vivacity there ! 
 
 By fogs thick encompassed Batavia(-5) lay. 
 Still watching lest Npplune extend his wild sway : 
 How patient she gaz'd on the watery scene ! 
 But Avarice mark'd her, and dull was her mien. 
 
 He flew where the fur-clad Sarmatia(6) rear'd 
 Her laurel-bound forehead : robust she appear'd : 
 Rays of light, soft increasiug, her Figure invest; 
 But stern and distrustful ; by Freedom unblest ! 
 
 (3) Switzerland. (4) Germany. 
 (5) Holland. (6) Kussia. 
 n2
 
 182 FEAST OF JUPITER. 
 
 Now eager lie urges his course, nor delays 
 Till Thracia(') sluggish her Tiuhan displays : 
 Now temp'rate, now wild as the furious wave : 
 Untutor'd, unpolish'd, a Savage, a Slave ! 
 
 He pass'd, and the swarthy Arabia found. 
 Inhaling the fragrance that floated around : 
 A moment she stood, then, on plunder intent, 
 On a fleet, snorting Steed, o'er the Desert she went. 
 
 Bright Persia glitters in silken aiTay ; 
 
 Deck'd with Bow and with Quiver, how costly, how gay ! 
 
 Her looks, full of tenderness, quickly endear ; 
 
 But short was her triumph : though kind, insincere ! 
 
 He hovers where China the dark-ey'd pursues 
 Her labours of skill, but no honesty views : 
 Tho' proudly she points to her Wall and her Towers, 
 Around her a thick Shade of Mystery lowers. 
 
 An aspect of frankness, a gesture that told 
 Of Freedom, appear'd in Columbia bold: 
 
 (7) Tm-key.
 
 A VISION. 183 
 
 Thoiigli talent and zeal in her eye he could trace, 
 She seem'd but an Offspring', advancing in grace. 
 
 To the East then the Herald his journey pursu'd; 
 And, tending her Vines, Lusitama(^) view'd : 
 Sedate her deporiment, and slar-like her eye, 
 But Malice and Craft in her dark visage lie. 
 
 The God then HispatsiaC^) anxiously gains. 
 But found her in darkness, despondence and chains ; 
 Oh ! wan was her aspect, and heavy her sigh. 
 And he passed her, hut not without sympathy, by ! 
 
 At length a small Land by Luxuriance crown'd, 
 A Land the blue waters of Neptune surround. 
 Through silvery clouds he discovers, and there 
 A Figure erect, and enchantingly fair. 
 
 So easy her movements, so martial her mien ; 
 So bold and commanding, and yet so serene ; 
 Her Figure majestic, so richly atLir'd ; 
 Her honours so blooming, her look so inspir'd ! 
 
 (8) Portugal. (9) Spain.
 
 184 FEAST OF JUPITER. 
 
 " I swear by His Sceptre whose will I obey," 
 
 " By Styx, whose broad waters through gloom wind their way ! 
 
 Glad Mercury cried : " yonder Form that doth move, 
 
 " With Freedom elate, is a Guest fit for Jove ! 
 
 His Wings then he clos'd, to Britannia drew nigh, 
 And whisper'd the errand he brought from the sky : 
 Transported she listen'd : the God then upflew, 
 And return'd with a Car that two bright Peacocks drew, 
 
 The rich Car of Juno : Britannia he plac'd 
 Alone in the centre : his Wand he embrac'd : 
 Then, giving a signal, the Birds look their flight, 
 And rested their charge on Olympus's height. 
 
 High Jove, all-foreknowing, exclaim'd with a smile : 
 " Lo ! the beautiful Dame of the generous Isle ; 
 " Attend Her, ye Powers !" — And straight to his side 
 Britannia was led by the heavenly Bride. 
 
 To the Banquet a concourse of Deities move : 
 The Nymph of the Chase ; she whose features are Love; 
 The Usher of Morn, and the Dame of the Shield ; 
 Aud the God that presides o'er the glittering Field.
 
 A VISION. 186 
 
 On a sudden rich rays all Olympus invest : 
 The Graces light-moving, attend on the Guest ; 
 While the Songs of the Muses, commingling clear 
 With the Strains of Ajjollo, enravish her ear ! 
 
 The Gods to each other their wonder declare : 
 3Iars ■whisper"'d his Spirit appear'd in her air ; 
 With her Wisdom Minerva perceiv'd she was fraught ; 
 And Venus confess'd that her smile she had caught. 
 
 The harmony ceasing, gi'eat Jove took a Bowl 
 With Nectar replete, and, with words from his soul, 
 Britannia address'd : (To his lips as they move. 
 The Fates give attention, and smiling approve.) 
 
 " Hail Queen of the Ocean ! hail Envy and Flower 
 " Of Nations aspiring ! long that this Hour 
 " Be remembered by Thee when thy Island is trod, 
 "A Pledge I will give Thee : the pledge of a God. 
 
 " Though envious Nations combine to oppress ; 
 
 " Though Faction may tear thee ; though clouds of distress 
 
 " Thy brow overshadow : thy heaviest fears 
 
 " Shall pass like the clouds when Aurora appears !
 
 186 FEAST OF JUPITER. 
 
 " O'er the waters thy Navies shall still ride sublime, 
 ••' And thine be ihe treasures of every Clime; 
 " All thine the rich beauty that Ceres attends, 
 " And thine all the pleasures Diana commends. 
 
 " The Flocks on thy mountains securely shall rove ; 
 " Thy dells be the haunts of sweet Friendship and Love ; 
 " Thy bosom a shelter for Strang-ers forlorn ; 
 " Apollo exalt thee, the Muses adorn ! 
 
 " As the fresh, blooming Laurels thy head that surround, 
 
 " Luxuriant ever thy Arts shall be found. 
 
 " Thy Spirit unbending no Tyrant shall break, 
 
 " Nor Honour desert Thee, nor Pallas forsake. 
 
 " And still shall the World look to thee for her law ; 
 " Oppression shall quake, when thy anger she draw ; 
 " Mark, favour'd Britannia ! (Gods, hear this decree !) 
 " From the moment I quaff, none shall triumph o'er Thee !" 
 
 Then the Sov'reign uprose, and with joy-flashing eye, 
 He drank till the glittering goblet was dry :
 
 A VISION. 187 
 
 His nod (10) tlien he gave : acclamations arise — 
 A moment I hear, and the Fantasy flies ! — 
 
 I sprang from the hillock, and lovelier still 
 Seem'd the slope of each Valley, the form of each Hill : 
 Though 'twas but a Vision, a Truth was imprest — 
 No Country than Brilain more happy, more blest ! 
 
 And, glowing wilh transport, I fervently cried, — 
 To shelter, ! he it our duty and pride. 
 From Strangers invading, from FacLion's wild foam, 
 The Land of our Fathers, our Birth-place, our Home ! 
 
 (10) " gives Ihe nod ; 
 
 The stamp of fate, and sanction of the God." 
 
 Pope's Homer.
 
 THE ENGLISH 'SQUIRE. 
 A SKETCH. 
 
 Proud among Neighbours Justice to dispense. 
 
 At County Contests vain of influence. 
 
 Mindful of cost, yet throwing Pounds away : 
 
 Expert at betting, but a dupe at Play. 
 
 A friend to Glee : all round his bounty share 
 
 In celebration of a Son and Heir. 
 
 Still pleas'd his Children 'mid their play to see : 
 
 Vain of his own, and Horse's Pedigree ! 
 
 In trifles cross'd, to anger giving birth 
 Fierce as the whirlwind that uptears the earth ! 
 But hush'd as soon : and, gratified, as gay 
 As yonder Lark that pours his liquid lay !
 
 THE ENGLISH 'SOUIRE. 189 
 
 At Races showing off his jockey-sljill. 
 Return 'd from War, a mighty Warrior still : 
 His House his fort^ his fields his wide campaign, 
 Where Haves and Pheasants are imuumher'd slain: 
 He fears lest Poachers trespass on his grounds, 
 Fears for his Horses, Huntsman, and his Hounds ! 
 
 Unused to Eloquence, yet ne'er so tame, 
 But, warm'd by Freedom, he can well declaim. 
 State-Books and Stud-Books forming his delight : 
 Hun ling all day, carousing half the night. 
 Returning to the CLase he loves, though sent 
 To hunt abuses out in Parliament : 
 Neglecting thus for Sport the calls of State, 
 What wonder Friends for him and Tenants wait ! 
 
 Austere to Beggars, while his free supplies 
 Support Misfortune, Age, Iniivmaries. 
 In War and Love by Courage still approved ; 
 When Danger threats, a tower of strength unmov'd. 
 
 His JNIansion has for generations been 
 The pleasing Object of the wooded scene ;
 
 190 THE ENGLISH 'SQUIRE. 
 
 Choice Herds and Flocts adom liis fertile ground, 
 Himself the Topic of llie Country round ! 
 As pleasxl he views his own, each field and tree, 
 His measur'd step is that of Liberty ! 
 
 Look in his ample hall : there you behold 
 Whips, Spurs, and Powder-Flasts, in service old; 
 And Swords with Spears arranged — a rusty show ! 
 For he was Sheriff twenty vears ago. 
 Observe his Parlour : o'er the lire-place see 
 A prime Joe Manton, hung up carefully; 
 The Paintiug of a Steed, superbly done, 
 A Fox's brush, in gallant contest won ; 
 A Daily Paper here and there appears. 
 With Racing Calendars of former years ; 
 A Volume of the Sporting Magazine, 
 And Haivker, richly letter'd, may be seen. 
 
 Contented 'Squire ! what happiness is thine ! 
 Thy Pole-Star, Sport, through every circling Sign. 
 With Steeds descended from a line of fame 
 Thy Stable's fiU'd : thy Covers stocked with Game :
 
 THE ENGLISH 'SQUIRE. 191 
 
 Old Dogs, old Sevvaiils, thy old Mansion grace, 
 And worn-out Hunters in thy Lawn have place ! 
 Cold though at first, as swift the moments run, 
 Thy Spirit emulates the noon-day Sun : 
 'Tis thine for Sense and Worth to be approv'd, 
 Britannia loving, hy her Sons helov'd !
 
 THE ENGLISH FARMER. 
 A SKETCH. 
 
 By fifty Summers simu'cl, he stands to view 
 
 Fresli as the lordly Oak, as stuljborn too ! 
 
 His Voice the Slorm that triumphs in the sky, 
 
 His Heart, the Stream that glides translucently. 
 
 Of early feats delighting oft to boast, 
 
 Grieving a bargain for a penny lost ! 
 
 Unversed in Learning ; laughing at the Schools : 
 
 Weighing all things by Common Sense's Rules. 
 
 Tied to his Country and the Household Gods, 
 
 Though scar'd by Poor-Rates, Rents, and Fallow-clods ! 
 
 On Parish business eager to debate, 
 
 And, Pipe in hand, adjusting things of State. 
 
 His Book, the Neivspapei-, he hurries through : 
 
 Constant at Market, though he's nought to do ! 
 
 As Prices rise, so rises his content ; 
 
 A match for Hector ^ having paid his rent !
 
 THE ENGLISH FARMER. 193 
 
 Stranger to heartless pride ; a Soul for glee ; 
 
 His fadeless motto — Hospitality. 
 
 A front of truth, with carriage unrefin'd ; 
 
 Warm in his friendships, to his Neighbours kind ; 
 
 Though bashful, prone o'er Neighbours to aspire, 
 
 And, if a Huntsman, rivalling the \Squire ! 
 
 His House is lite an Inn hard by the way, 
 How many enter, but there's noiujht to pay ! 
 Shelter'd it stands: there he his birlh receiv'd, 
 And there his Grandsire and his Sire have liv'd. 
 Huge trees the Orchard shows, the Stack-yard near 
 The golden produce of the liberal Year. 
 The Herdsman's whistle, and the low of Kine, 
 The Milkmaid's chant, the neigh of Colts, combine 
 To make the Faraier's melody ; while he, 
 No mortal happier, no soul more free ! 
 Look in his kitchen, does it not appear 
 With Hams and Flitches lin'd ? — exhaustless cheer ! 
 A rusty Fowling Piece the ceiling shows, 
 Employ'd to scare from grain the hungry Crows. 
 A stout Arm-Chair, that came from Sire to Son, 
 A Sword, unstain'd since Cavalry begun,
 
 194 THE ENGLISH FARMER. 
 
 Tlie Chimney corner gi-ace ; the ample Hearth 
 With Wood so pil'd, would seem to threaten dearth ! 
 Across the floor his ruddy Children skip, 
 The Leader mounted on a Htmiing Whip. 
 Meanwhile his Wife attends to household cares, 
 And with the busy Maids the Meal prepares. 
 With modest furniture the Parlour's drest, 
 Warm'd at a Christening, or for Sunday-Guest. 
 Here to remain the Farmer's Soul disdains, 
 But, orown'd by Freedom, in the Kitchen reigns. 
 Britannia, Peace, and Liberty admire 
 The Fanner, seated at his crackling fire ; 
 Him when you see he hastens to regale, 
 With Stentor-voice he cries — " Come, taste my Ale !"
 
 SONNET. 
 
 EVENING. 
 
 A FLOOD of glory streams along the West, 
 
 The Star of Even glimmers ; earth and sky 
 Blend softly ; Luna, cloth'd in vest 
 
 Of clouds she tinges, rides triumphantly. 
 Nought breaks the stillness, saving melody 
 Of rippling rill, and rooks, that distant cry. 
 The tranquil scene with charms enchanting draws, 
 Till Adoration owns the Mighty Cause. 
 Hail Source of beauty ! Giver of all good ! 
 
 Fount of pure ecstacy the heart receives ! 
 Thou speak'st in Zephyr, in the rushing Flood, 
 
 And tellest Man for him Creation lives ! 
 His Cup of bliss Thou fillest to the brim : 
 Lord ! what is man, that Thou regardest him ?* 
 
 * " What is man, that Thou ai-t miudful of him."— Psalm 8.
 
 THE VILLAGE CHURCH-YARD. 
 
 Still on the green commanding hill, 
 
 That youth delighted climb, 
 Auburn I thy modest Church appears, 
 Unhurt by time. 
 
 Full many a sunny hour has fled, 
 And many a dark one pass'd, 
 Since, with a reverential joy, 
 
 I view'd it last. 
 
 And many a Swain and Maiden fair 
 
 Have thither walk'd to weep, 
 For many an eye, that since has clos'd 
 In wakeless sleep ! 
 
 Yet still along the mossy Wall 
 
 I mark the Firs array'd, 
 
 And still the platted graves receive 
 
 The Yew-tree's shade.
 
 THE VILLAGE CHURCHYARD. 197 
 
 And now as the red Spire I view 
 
 Gilded by setting rays, 
 Fond Recollection softly tells 
 
 Of Boyhood's days. 
 
 There have I link'd with many a hand, 
 
 All now to manhood gi-own, 
 Pursued the Walk, or sportive skipp'd 
 From stone to stone. 
 
 There, lingering oft, I've sat to hear 
 
 The murmurs of the vale, 
 Nor dreamt that Care my placid breast 
 Would e'er assail. 
 
 O ! when my life- worn Spirit hears 
 
 The mandate of the Sky, 
 There as I oft so pleas'd have paus'd. 
 There may I lie !
 
 THE NEWS-ROOM 
 
 IN THREE CANTOS. 
 
 The Reader will bear in mind that the scene 
 is laid in the Reign of George the Fourth.
 
 THE n;ews-room 
 
 CANTO FIRST. 
 
 In every Town on gallant George's Isle, 
 Where population swarms, the hours to wile 
 A Dome there is, for inforaaation fam'd, 
 And by the common voice the News-Room nam'd. 
 There half-bound volumes view, in order plac'd 
 On dusty shelves, with not much gilding grac'd ! 
 Once did they charm the Politician's eye, 
 Reviewing worms now claim their legacy. 
 Lo ! living Oracles, of every mien, 
 The Daily Oflfspring of the Grand Machine : 
 " Times," spreading past and future to the view, 
 " Post," flying far, ere flits the morning dew. 
 A " Traveller," that holds a " Globe" in hand ; 
 A " Herald," trumpeting throughout the land ;
 
 202 THE NEWS-ROOM. CANTO I. 
 
 Conflicting deeds a Chronicle records 
 
 Of granting Commons, and protesting Lords. 
 
 A " Standard" waves, " Courier" darts in sight ; 
 
 A " Sim," the true Apollo, lends its light. 
 
 See " Lifsts" for Soldier, Lawyer, and Marine, 
 
 Sedate Review, embellish'd Magazine, 
 
 Whose leaves, in'egularly turn'd, demand 
 
 Some smoothing process, after lawless hand. 
 
 " Spectator" and " Examiner" take root. 
 
 And weekly party -coloured blossoms shoot. 
 
 Nor shall my Muse, unheeded though half-nam'd, 
 
 Ungi'ateful pass the Wonders, proudly claim'd 
 
 By near and distant Towns, whose lights afar 
 
 Beam — " Beacon," " Luminary," " Comet," Star ;" 
 
 With Friends, to guide and guard in all distresses, 
 
 Prov'd " Pilots," " Warders," " Patriots," " Expresses"— 
 
 Hence fam'd Britannia safely steers her bark, 
 
 Still in the right course, never in the dark ! 
 
 Confus'd the literai'y treasures lie — 
 
 Heavens ! what a prospect for the curious eye ! 
 
 As in sweet May the joyous Spirits flow, 
 
 Around alluring chaims of Flora blow, 
 
 The mingling odours fill the balmy gale : 
 
 So here the literary blooms prevail.
 
 CANTO 1. THE NEWS-ROOM. 203 
 
 To every fancy tempting blossoms spring — 
 
 As flowers are pluck'd, beware lest nettles sting ! 
 
 Stampt like a Flock, to indicate possession, 
 " N. R." each Paper bears — Oh, vain impression ! 
 For Sheets find wings like Riches — swift they fly, 
 And light some Coff"ee Pot or Tea Urn nigh, 
 Where damask cloth is elegantly spread — 
 The charming Wife exclaims — " Thanks, dearest Fred ! 
 I wanted just to know the Court about. 
 And whether the new Fashions are come out, 
 Our weekly Print too tardy for next Rout !" — 
 (Oh, shame to men, who women so abuse. 
 As not to gratify with daily News !) 
 " 0, yes ! I see — buff" Robe, trimm'd round with blue, 
 (How very lively !) Shawl of crimson hue, 
 The Cap with lilac lined, with green the Bonnet" — 
 — " Mamma, do look, O ! do observe, 
 
 "' A SONNET. 
 THE RULING PASSION. 
 
 Statesmen protest, 'mid Opposition's flood, 
 Their Ruling Passion is their Country's good,
 
 204 THE NEWS-IIOOM. CAN 
 
 Some dream 'tis theirs in Dian's Chase to move, 
 Some think they humour theirs in heaping gain, 
 Yet, Truth must own, or giving bliss, or pain, 
 
 The Ruling Passion of mankind is Love ! 
 Tyrannic Love ! that prompts the ardent sigh, 
 And bids to mighty deeds warm souls aspire ; 
 One spark from Beauty's captivating eye. 
 Can set that tinder-Box^ the Breast, on fire ! 
 And Beauties too, as on a gala day, 
 
 They'd little taste of joy, if out of fashion — 
 So — (how I first had plann'd to end my lay, 
 
 I have forgot — 'twas something about Passion.' ") 
 
 " Well ! was there ever such a strange conclusion ? 
 Yet I can guess ^ amid the rhymes' confusion. 
 The Writer's views are limited — no doubt — 
 How many passions stir the world about ! 
 Affections, rivalling Love's mighty passion, 
 For lively News, and ever-changing Fashion." — 
 
 As when Apollo's vivifying ray, 
 Tempts willing bees in morn from hives away, 
 Who wing their flight among the garden's bowers, 
 And sip refreshing sweets from dewy flowers :
 
 ^NTO I. THE NEWS-ROOM, 205 
 
 So fly the Members to the Reading Room, 
 And revel in Political Perfume. 
 
 Assembled there, see men of tastes and minds 
 Of every mould, and each a banquet finds. 
 Sweet rivals sweet, no bud neglected lies, 
 For Bees from bitters can extract supplies. 
 But vainly round the region roves the sight 
 For breathing Beauty — 'tis a desert quite ! 
 Ungallant Rules ! excluding all the Fair, 
 And making Bull appear so much a Bear ! 
 Against the Salique Law Reformers rise. 
 Transform the News-Room to a Paradise ! 
 By Flowers, though not of Speech^ be all subdu'd — 
 Speed, blissful hour, Elysian quietude ! 
 
 Equality presides, while men peruse 
 As in Kaleidoscope, the changeful News. 
 Dull Lawyers, late who doz'd o'er dusty Deeds, 
 Revive, as Counsel to the fancy pleads ; 
 The list of recent Statutes ponder o'er — 
 Admir'd, accumulating, sparkling store ! 
 Poor Patients in impatient mood declaim. 
 And ^sculapians lagging Postmen blame.
 
 206 THE NEWS-ROOM. C. 
 
 The Orator of climaxes and tropes, 
 The Speaker, who with soi'did figures copes, 
 They, all whose eloquence is " Ah !" or " Oh !" 
 Who nod approving " Yes," shake sombre " No," 
 All seek the comfortable Room, — a Host 
 Impatient wait the dilatory Post. 
 
 Meanwhile some topic of the Country round. 
 Domestic News, to cheat the time is found. 
 Mayhap a story, fraught with comic woe, 
 
 Of trick play'd off on Chum ten years ago ; 
 Accounts how far acquaintances are doing. 
 How some have lately wedded — some are wooing ; 
 Concern a Stripling is at home delay'd. 
 Profession now approving, now a Trade. 
 (The truth, distinct to all but partial eye, 
 To gown and desk preferring liberty !) 
 Reports of Firms by speculation undone, 
 A taste of sulphur Spa — or sight of London. 
 
 A pause ensues, then chance a Tale of fact is 
 Told as a fiction — 
 
 " THEORY AND PRACTICE.
 
 VNTO I. THE NEWS-ROOM. 207 
 
 'TwAs in a Village of no small renown, 
 So fair and ample, some might call a Town, 
 A Rector dwelt, not long arriv'd from College, 
 In Greek and Latin vers'd, and other knowledge. 
 With priestly dignity, and solemn grace, 
 He rul'd — the awe and wonder of the place. 
 
 What though the Rector very rarely rack'd his 
 
 Stor'd mind, surprising Theories to bring. 
 Enough to shew that Precepts old to practice, 
 
 As well as preach, is oft an arduous thing ! 
 
 You fancy, Friends, my story issues forth 
 A sort of whisk, that Drapers use for Cloth 
 The moths have eaten — well ! if such abound. 
 There are whole coats, and worthy wearers found. 
 
 The Sabbath's smiling morn appear'd. 
 Our Rector to the Church repair'd, 
 And soon he reached the Reading place, 
 And read with force, with ease and grace. 
 
 And then he preach'd a Sermon from that word ; 
 See Nineteenth Prov. Veise Fifteenth from the Third.
 
 208 THE NEWS-ROOM. CAI 
 
 How much he dwelt on those that are distrest ; 
 Said Charity should ever warm the breast : 
 Yes ! that on every day, in every hour, 
 To succour Grief 'tis blest, when in our power. 
 
 The Duty o'er, his hearers homeward throng, 
 Pronounce his Sermon good, altho' 'twas long. 
 And now behold he lounges after dinner. 
 Cracks nuts and jokes, but is not much a Sinner. 
 
 'Twas on that Sabbath morn the news went round 
 A Bark had sunk, and half the Crew were drown'd ; 
 The sad survivors wander'd near the coast, 
 By Hunger threaten'd, and in sorrow lost. 
 The Poor exclaim'd — " Now Plenty yield thy cheer. 
 For Pity's sake protect each Mariner !" 
 
 Alone, dejected, one came wand'ring nigh 
 Where the fair Rectory so snugly lay. 
 
 And leaning on the gate, he heav'd a sigh, 
 Musing to enter or to turn away. 
 
 At length the latch he rais'd, and went within, 
 
 Thinking to beg one crumb would be no sin.
 
 CANTO I. THE NEWS-ROOM, 209 
 
 The Rector feels as if his rage would throttle, 
 . Springs from his chair, his walnuts, and his bottle, 
 Stands the sad object of his fury near. 
 When thus the Sailor's voice salutes his ear : 
 
 " Oh ! pity, Sir, a Mariner forlorn, 
 
 From Hunger's tortures be it yours to save. 
 
 Our little bark was wreck'd this very morn. 
 
 And four poor messmates share a wat'ry grave !" 
 
 As though his Neighbours flocks had broke their bounds, 
 As though autumnal floods had swept the gi'ounds. 
 And all his Tithe had floated with the tide, 
 The Parson-Justice stampt, and sternly cried — 
 
 " How ! begging. Vagrant, on the Sabbath day ! 
 Quick, from my presence, and my grounds away. 
 Or, (such presumption pious feeling shocks) 
 You shall have "-funds,'' and in the Parish " Stocks !" 
 
 The Post not i/et arriv'd ! time flits away ! 
 How late the Mail ! where can be the delay ? 
 The roads are open — frost no more abounds — 
 Hark ! now the Horn — no ! 'tis a Trooper sounds.
 
 210 THE NEWS-ROOM. CANTO I. 
 
 From hope delay'd disorders now prevail, 
 Some flee, some sit at Chess, or Paper stale, 
 And others listen to another Tale, 
 Partaking somewhat of the analytic, 
 If true, most wonderful, 
 
 " A CANDID CRITIC. 
 
 Hal, whom dame Fortune crown'd with ample treasure, 
 Whose hours were notes in one unvaried measure, 
 Conceiv'd he might improve Life's tame design, 
 By courting favours of the tuneful Nine. 
 Yet ah ! the difficulties men inthal 
 
 Who can discuss ? — 
 We find the Muses will not always fall 
 
 In love with us ! 
 Poor Hal, with all his mental straining, 
 Whether in merry humour or complaining. 
 Could never gratify desire 
 With ought but gleam of glowworm-fire. 
 What tricks his Muse would play with him ! 
 Such was her wayward whim — 
 
 Now, dull as death ! 
 In the next moment would he flounce away, 
 And seem to emulate a Screechowl's lay, 
 
 Till out of breath !
 
 CANTO I. THE NEWS-ROOM. 211 
 
 He was in love, and pour'cl his ardent soul 
 In verse, to her who own'd the soft control. 
 Have ye ne'er heard the ditty he compos'd 
 
 When tyrant Love first bade him fondly linger, 
 Or that soft Elegy his Muse disclos'd 
 
 When his Dulcinea cut her taper finger ? — 
 * No ! ' — Then to make of happiness your sum, 
 Ye have two matchless luxuries to come ! 
 
 'Twas when grey Evening cast her mantle round, 
 Stars deck'd the sky, and spangles dew'd the ground, 
 Hal met his Charmer on her Aunt's parterre, 
 (The Story goes 'twas chance that brought them there) 
 And 'twas in that sweet hour for Lovers made. 
 He spouted home-spun verse, a grand parade. 
 Ode, Sonnet, Elegy, to charm the Maid ! 
 
 His flight complete — "Now, judge my works," he cries, 
 
 "A Critic truly /air, can ne'er offend ! 
 There lives no Rival but my Muse belies. 
 
 But speak, my Love, on you I may depend" — 
 " Dear Hal !" she whispers, " don't offended be, 
 "One sweet salute would shame your Poeti-y /"
 
 212 THE NEWS-ROOM. CANTO 
 
 At length one Paper comes ! — why so unblest, 
 The cause by none is told — by many guess'd — 
 The Paper-Fohlers must have sunk to sleep, 
 Or Presses with demand no pace could keep ! 
 Amid the mystery Impatience stands 
 On tiptoe, while an eager voice demands 
 The latest News.— The lucky Holder's prest. 
 Till with the tidings all at once are blest. 
 So may be seen a Crier in a Street, 
 Proclaiming purses lost, with gold replete. 
 Around a group of anxious gazers throng. 
 Won by laconic harmony — " ding, dong !" — 
 " God save the King !" the loud, concluding prayer, 
 " And also the Right Worshipful the Mayor !" 
 
 The Curate pants to learn who last enjoy'd 
 Preferment (Hope ids bosom long has buoy'd.) 
 The Miser asks, with melancholy whine, 
 If Funds advance, or rapidly decline ? 
 The zealous Lover of the Turf enquires 
 The news from Tattersall's — if neighb'ring 'Squire's 
 Euphrates Colt is entered for a Stakes, 
 Then offers round a bet, which no one takes : 
 " Remember, Sir, ('tis strange you will presume) 
 This is a Reading, not a Betting Room !" —
 
 CANTO I. THE NEWS-ROOM. 213 
 
 Then comes the Politician, and demands 
 The last intelligence from foreign strands : — 
 " Does Spain assert her rights, and nobly spum 
 The Tyrant's chain ? Does France yet seem to learn 
 Her proper good?" — If Whig, with much concern, 
 " Are England's overtax'd, devoted bands. 
 Still verging to the state of slavish lands ?" 
 If Tori/, all is prosperous and fair — 
 Such magic influence has courtly air ! 
 
 Thus Party ever shades of diff 'rence throws : 
 To one presents a magic glass, and shows 
 Pleasure and Plenty on each fertile green : 
 By others. Want, Despair, and Pain are seen. 
 Thrice happy they, whose even spirits flow. 
 Nor overcharg'd with joy, nor sunk by woe ! 
 
 From hand to hand the News-fraught pages fly- 
 From accidents and war, the Soldier's eye 
 Darts to the List that of promotion tells — 
 He wonders much himself inactive dwells ! 
 Thou, Curiosity, directest where 
 Death stamps the page, so near the wedded Pair ! 
 
 p2
 
 214 THE NEWS-ROOM. 
 
 What limpid streams of Eulogy overflow, 
 Reflecting all a Village sunk in woe, 
 For one, while living, few could call a friend, 
 But, dying, all the neighbourhood commend ! — 
 Oh, Flattery ! — if, with thy wondrous chami, 
 The quick thou mak'st not better — do no hann ! 
 
 Advertisements allure — a motley race 
 Of Cooks, of Clerks, of Footmen, out of place. 
 Who, like the " Owfs" of Opposition, win 
 By perseverance, and at length get in ! 
 Apologies for scandal, foul as rife ; 
 A Caution not to trust a truant-wife. 
 Notes lost — by holding none can be avail'd — 
 Stop in the payment — Bank that issu'd,/ai7V/ ,' 
 A. finding by twelve Gentlemen, long mute. 
 Of humble Verdict^ in a costly Suit : 
 Whoever fancies, ere next Term commences. 
 May have it, on — defraying all expenses. 
 Of losses, to the Owners' consternation, 
 At Whist or Commerce, golden reputation : 
 The lucky Finders, shall, on bringing forth, 
 Receive as much — as ever they ivere zvorth. —
 
 INTO I. THE NEWS-ROOM. 215 
 
 Of Dissolution, after much dissent, 
 
 Of Loves long-pledg'd — by mutual consent. 
 
 The sight roves o'er the teeming Sheet, and falls 
 On chequer'd histories of Prodigals ; 
 Of Gamesters, suddenly to ruin tost ; 
 Of Sharpers vile ; hearts broken ; Maidens lost. 
 And Bills of ancient Drury court the eye, 
 And City Lions glare — a fresh supply ! 
 
 The senatorial Eloquence attracts, 
 Now smooth, now thundering in cataracts ! 
 Speeches on speeches crowd — Antagonists 
 Meet fiercer than in Lion-Richard's Lists. 
 A waste of words expands, where chance may shoot 
 A solitary tree, with bitter fruit. 
 Some wind in shade, like Acheron obscure — 
 The sable length, oh Job ! couldst thou endure ? 
 While others instantaneously display 
 The flash of heavenly Eloquence's ray, 
 And, spite of Party's veil of mist, endear 
 By Truth, Intelligence, and Reason clear. 
 
 Hail ye, who, while your hearts would shield the Throne, 
 Regard your Countiy's troubles as your own !
 
 216 THE NEWS-ROOM. CAN 
 
 Martyrs to right ; in every threat'ning hour 
 Prepar'd — a bulwark 'gainst the tide of Power ; 
 Whose single aim, amid the raging flood, 
 A People's plaudits for abuse withstood. 
 Such the proud impulse of the Patriot-soul, 
 And Patriot-names illume Britannia's Scroll. 
 
 Though bright the subject, unadorn'd the lay 
 That sang not Holland, Russell, Brougham and Grei/, 
 With other Stars their dazzling rays combine — 
 0, Names, above the praise of verse like mine ! 
 Yet hail, my Friend, esteem'd, remember'd long, 
 Consistent Pryse ! ai)prove my humble song : 
 Though quiet be thy course, a mind to steer 
 Amid the tempest, from all danger clear, 
 Is thine — the worth and firmness all admire, 
 The friendly glow, the patriotic fire. 
 In after times the Cymnfs boast will be, 
 They sought and found fidelity in Thee. 
 
 Nor is my wayward Muse so partial grown. 
 To hide what Candour, gen'rous Truth, must own. 
 Hail fluent Canning, Genius' darling Son ! 
 And Thou, Britannia's glory, Wellington !
 
 lNTO I. THE NEWS-ROOM. 217 
 
 Let Fame proclaim the Soldier's high renown, 
 A grateful Nation shower her honours clown ! 
 And wear the laurel, for thy rival skill, 
 Salopian Warrior, victorious Hill ! 
 
 Is there, reputed eloquent and wise, 
 The moulder of a Nation's destinies. 
 Dead to Persuasion, deaf to Reason's call, 
 To Justice naught, to Fear surrend'ring all. 
 His idol Avarice or Vanity ? — 
 Oh, no, in Britain such there cannot be ! 
 
 From starry sphere, and meteors that fall. 
 
 Turn, Muse, to matter Editorial. — 
 
 * * * * 
 
 " Last night a Member of the Sister Isle, 
 Created in the House a gen'ral smile. 
 By moving for a Bill, that there might stand 
 A Bridge from Holyhead to Erin's strand, 
 Between the shores to expedite communion — 
 
 Till this is hidlt, there'll be no perfect Unions 
 
 ^ * * % 
 
 " A very turbulent Debate arose, 
 The cause, no mortal, saving Members, knows. 
 Reporters vainly strove to catch a word. 
 Until the storm subsided, when was heard
 
 218 THE NEWS-ROOM. CANTO I. 
 
 A gen'ral hum, made up of broken chats, 
 
 Of ' Brib'ry'— ' Treatiug'— ' Threat'nings,' and ' Rats,' 
 
 From east and west, and some from northern Border — 
 
 The Speaker spoke, and call'd the House to order !" 
 * * * * 
 " Petitions, ahnost countless, were presented, 
 
 But none were read, the lateness that prevented ; 
 
 The Board, though broad, to hold them was unable, 
 
 So all were snugly laid beneath the Table. 
 
 A sudden flash then dazzled Members' eyes, 
 
 And, lo ! a Phantom was observ'd to rise. 
 
 To right of Chair it stalk'd, with solemn tread, 
 
 And ranks of Members fell, with horror dead ! 
 
 " Reform yourselves within," the ghostly shout, 
 
 " Or Vengeance will reform you from without !" 
 
 One said 'twas Chatham^s Spirit — " hear! hear I hearP^ 
 
 The cry — Reformers gave a thundering cheer. 
 
 It smil'd on Brougham and Russell, ere away 
 
 It stole to Upper House, in search of Grey. 
 
 Then Tellers rose — their ofiice set about 
 
 In vain — not Hume could count the prostrate out I 
 
 The number is immense, We fear, that fell — 
 
 A fresh Edition shall the tidings tell." 
 
 END OF THE FIRST CANTO.
 
 THE NEWS-ROOM 
 
 CANTO SECOND.
 
 THE NEWS-ROOM 
 
 CANTO SECOND. 
 
 Edition First excited hopes or fears; 
 A Second, still in mystery, appears. 
 
 * * * >fc 
 
 " The Members, whom last night the Spirit hit, 
 Have most recover'd — theirs a fainting fit : 
 But some are ling'ring ; and 'tis fear'd they lie 
 Like Cassio^s fame, beyond " all surgery." 
 Ye fragrant Boroughs, oh I how caw ye spare 'em? 
 Pinks of the Flowers, Corfe-Castle, ancient SarumP^- 
 
 Strange, variegated Map of human life ! 
 The Paper shows who gains, who wants, a Wife ! 
 The Advertiser generous and free, 
 An air of grace, a fonn of symmetry :
 
 222 THE NEWS-ROOM. CANTO II. 
 
 The Nymph he'll wed, whom equal charms surrounds, 
 No matter if she own some glitt'ring Pounds ! 
 
 And now a Greenhouse for poetic blooms 
 The Country Sheet — no Critic's frost consumes ! 
 A little week the rival blossoms shine : 
 Perchance are smelt, then left to droop — like mine. 
 
 In Song some warble, some Enigmas try : 
 The Lover sighs — list ! — his 
 
 " DESPONDENCY. 
 
 Kind Nature shows her countless charms, 
 
 Yet I partake no glee : 
 In vain the vernal zephyr warms, 
 
 While Mona's cold to me ! 
 
 There's naught but gladness in the air, 
 
 The Lark enamour'd sings, 
 But I to gloomy groves repair, 
 
 To touch my saddest strings. 
 
 In vain I join in Pleasure's ring. 
 
 And Fancy bid aspire. 
 One Thought unplumes my rising wing, 
 
 And Wit and Beauty tire !
 
 CANTO II. THE NEWS-ROOM. 223 
 
 Joy, like a Tree, by Roses twin'd. 
 
 Would strength and blooms display, 
 But MoNA is the cruel wind. 
 
 That kills each opening spray. 
 
 The Sun, from yonder mountain-height, 
 
 Bids Clouds and Darkness flee : 
 Oh ! when will Mona, kind as bright, 
 
 Be as the Sun to me ?" 
 
 His Sun soon gilds him, and, (rare information !) 
 He tells the wond'ring World his 
 
 "acceptation. 
 
 Blow, wintry Winds, ye Storms suiTOund, 
 
 Ye have no rage to fear ! 
 My love for matchless Mona's crown'd, 
 
 'Tis Summer all the year ! 
 
 While others, strangers to delight, 
 'Mid doubts and darkness stray. 
 
 Young Mona is the Sunbeam bright. 
 That luminates my way.
 
 224 THE NEWS-ROOM. CANTO II. 
 
 The Roe, on mountain higli that bounds, 
 
 The Lord of liberty, 
 The Hare, that skips the dewy gi'ounds, 
 
 In joy resemble me ! 
 
 When MoNA speaks, a magic sound 
 
 Floats to my wond'ring ear : 
 When MoNA lightly treads the ground, 
 
 What melody to hear !* 
 
 In vain the Birds in forest trill 
 
 Their notes of sweetest glee, 
 With MoNA there is music still, 
 
 Surpassing all to me !" 
 
 The sight turns, sated, from the Lover's lays, 
 " For Lucy FooVs new Album," 
 
 then surveys. 
 
 " An Album is a Greenhouse, where appear 
 Plants, form'd to triumph o'er the changeful year. 
 
 " His very foot has music in't, 
 
 " '\Mien he comes up the staif." 
 
 BUKXS, 
 
 Even music follow' d her light feet." 
 
 Byron.
 
 CANTO II. THE NEWS-ROOM. 225 
 
 What various hues and graces they display ! 
 E'en Critics scorn to brush their bloom away ! 
 The breath of Beauty fostering air supplies : 
 They ask no sunshine, save from Beauty's eyes. 
 
 Call'd, not reluctantly, to please the Fair, 
 What Bud shall I present to flourish there ? 
 Unnumber'd flowers to Fancy's view arise. 
 Or fam'd for fragrance, or enchanting dies : 
 Yet of all gifts that liberal Flora yields. 
 To deck the Greenhouse, or adorn the fields. 
 My Muse, still wayward, yet with joyful wings, 
 Dear Lucy ! to your Store a Daisy brings : 
 Child of the mountain, to the moral eye. 
 Retiring emblem of Humility^ 
 Though not in me ! For why should I presume 
 A Wildling may 'mong cultur'd blossoms bloom ? 
 Yet take it, though at length aside 'tis thrown. 
 By such a Foot proud to be trampled down !" 
 
 The breath of May, and wintry wind severe, 
 Alternate form the legal Atmosphere. 
 What bliss to mark, (Sun bursting from a cloud) 
 The Judgment of a Court, without it's crowd ! —
 
 226 THE NEWS-ROOM. CANTO II. 
 
 " In Gentle versus Guile, those Suitors brave, 
 The Court this morn long-look'd for Judgment gave— 
 
 " This Suit, as by the Records it appears, 
 Has courted Equity these fifty years ; 
 One Issue by four Juries has been tried, 
 The Verdicts equal — two on either side. 
 Hence this advantage Parties undei-stand, 
 It even comes to Justice' even hand. 
 'Twere no light toil to travel through the papers. 
 Which, were they spread, would cover all the acres, 
 The matter in dispute — in numbers round 
 Five hundred, that with wood and mines abound — 
 Limbs on both Sides, full well you know the gi-ound ! 
 You all perceive I have much trouble taken. 
 By multitudes of doubts conflicting shaken, 
 But now, thank Heaven ! the Lab'rinth's end I see, 
 And therefore make the following Decree. — 
 Be Gentle^s part the Foolscap scribbled o'er, 
 The share of Guile be all the Sheepskin lore !' 
 
 ' The Land, my Lord ?"— " O, yes ! I had forgot 
 The Land — that is, of course, the Lawyers' lot.' —
 
 CANTO II. THE NEWS-ROOM. 227 
 
 " Against this Judgment people seem to feel, 
 There will to House of Lords be an Appeal. 
 None seem'd quite pleas'd — Wigs^ Bags, appear'd to fret, 
 Because there only was the land to get!" 
 
 " TO correspondents;' 
 
 in Italics shine ; 
 The sight, inquisitive, surveys each line. — 
 
 " A. Z." — We did not get your countermand. 
 " B's" hint We do not clearly understand. 
 If " C" will send, or at Our oflSce call, 
 He'll have his manuscript, unsullied all ! 
 The " Lines to Laura's Lapdog" are serene, 
 But suit not Us — they may a Magazine. 
 " Juventus' " Essay ^ We half-read return. 
 To be re-touch'd a little — live and learn ! 
 " R's Thoughts on Novelty" are just and true — 
 Verb. sat. beneath the Sun there's nothing new. 
 Stanza, Original by " Tyro" reckon'd, 
 Penn'd Rochester in reign of Charles the Second. 
 We print no Weddings un authenticated. 
 We much regret " T's" death was falsely stated : 
 Rejoice to find the forgery a fable — 
 Long may he be to read Our Paper able 1 
 
 Q
 
 228 THE NEWS-ROOM. CANTO II. 
 
 " A Constant Friend" — did We take your advice, 
 The Law would seize us, as a eat does mice. 
 Friend " Cupid," We lament the cruel smart 
 Your Namesake has inflicted in your heart, 
 But We a sorer feel — not Love the giver. 
 But Libel Law, consuming Purse, Heart, Liver ! 
 
 Loquacious " We !" so kind to promulgate 
 Its own disorders, and of Church and State ! 
 We ! Trumpet-tongued, impregning gales around ; 
 Press answers Press, and Imps the note resound ! 
 Terrific We ! the mandate of a Throne, 
 Whose subjects smart, who dare its rights disown ! 
 As flaming Beacons lumine land and sea. 
 The world is warn'd and aw'd by Mighty We ! 
 
 The Valetudinarian is reliev'd 
 By fabled cures, by cunning Quacks achiev'd : 
 Though nothing new adorns the frequent Tale, 
 Deception wins its way, and Pills find sale. 
 
 Now mighty feats of men attention claim 
 Of iron-forms, and pugilistic fame,
 
 / 
 
 CANTO II. THE NEWS-ROOM. 229 
 
 Who give the friendly shake, and then, to show 
 Their warm affection, the Herculean blow ! 
 The humblest Spirits wrestle for a Name, 
 Submit to lasting scars, for fleeting fame. 
 And Lucre, prompting to the barbarous sport ! 
 Wliat will not cursed Avarice support? 
 
 I am not yet, grant Heaven, I never may ! 
 A sanguine lover of a brutal play — 
 No anxious wish my breast pervades to scan 
 Where man for gold deforms his fellow man. 
 Alas ! that Law should have so weak a hand — 
 Shall Custom plead this blot upon the land ? 
 What though the Nation challenge earth to vie 
 With British Science, Roman bravery — 
 Perverted strength ! though valour mark the fight, 
 The soul turns, sicken'd, from the low delight. 
 Oh, Sons of Freedom ! paths unstain'd pursue : 
 Around untainted pleasures bloom for you. — 
 
 See rough athletic Heroes of the Fist 
 Politeness taught by polish'd Duellist. 
 
 q2
 
 230 THE NEWS-ROOM. 
 
 CANTO II. 
 
 To fall from blows — what low vulgarity ! 
 
 By Swords or Pistols men genteelly die. 
 
 By Honour^s Laws 'tis clearly understood, 
 
 That Honour's stains are purg'd by stains of blood ! 
 
 Now Pufifs, conceal'd in prose, attention gain ; 
 And now the soft, self-magnifying strain 
 Of singing Swans, in sable down that shine, 
 Turner and Warren^ fav'rites of the Nine ! 
 
 A Philo publishes — the other night 
 He saw in Luna an amazing sight. 
 Through such a Tube (could Newton but have found !) 
 With magnifying glasses that astound — 
 The People all were their old paths despising, 
 Reforming some, and some tnacadamising ! 
 Another proves beyond a shade of doubt. 
 The Sun's dark spots increase — his Gas is out ! 
 Observe a Truth, (astonishment it forces) 
 Ships spurning canvas, Mails despising horses ! 
 'Tis more than probable, some night or noon, 
 Men will on Planets land from a Balloon : 
 Thus may this Generation have the luck 
 Of demonstrating what means planetstruck !
 
 CANTO II. THE NEWS-ROOM. 231 
 
 Of gaining Northern Pole much now is spoken — 
 From last accounts the Ice is not quite broken. 
 Would navigators freely take advice, 
 They'd wait till Northern meteors melt the Ice ! 
 
 Hail, Prince of Patents ! long-desir'd Machine ' 
 Aurora's painting Brush ! with rose serene, 
 (Than may-pole taller, but not half .«o bulky,) 
 To tinge November's clouds, that are so sulky. 
 
 A Correspondent writes, that in the Park 
 Appear'd a Creature worthy of remark, 
 His neck a Stork's, his middle half a span ; 
 Some thought an Ape was mimicking a man ; 
 At length came up a Nat'ralist — a Wit — 
 And clear'd all doubt — it was an Exquisite .' 
 
 Heroic Stories charm — how much renown 
 Is gain'd, ye Sparks, by knocking Watchmen down ! 
 See Justice pacified, and now enrag'd, 
 And " Shallows'^ in Law's whirlpools deep cngag'd.
 
 232 THE NEWS-ROOM. CANTO II. 
 
 " Now, Murphy, you stand charg'd (most grave offence,) 
 A Spoon with stealing, value fifteen pence — 
 By Rules of Law, say, are you guilty, Pat ?" — 
 " In Law, Not Chiilty, Worship, and that's flat !" — 
 " But, on your honour, did you steal it, Loon !" — 
 — " Och ! touch my honour, Justice, take the Spoon .'" 
 
 But lo ! Attraction, prison'd School-Girls hail, 
 (The Paper gain'd by stealth) affecting Tale 
 Of ill-us'd Nymph, impatient of control, 
 (Of rare accomplishments, aspiring soul,) 
 Who, borne o'er Garden-wall, on wings of Love, 
 Ere smote began to curl, or Maids to move. 
 Despite of Aunt and Cerherus austere, 
 Elop'd with Clerk, or Groom, or Grenadier. 
 
 Thus from the Paper, — ever-flowing fount, — 
 Refresh'd all rise, and yet what small amount 
 Is paid for Thee, O ! spirit-stirring Page, 
 Whose charms in full and vacant hour engage. 
 Books offer bliss, but all neglected lie, 
 When Thou appearest, dark-wing'd Mercury ! 
 As one who finds a treasure, envied he 
 Who first may open, first thy Postscript see.
 
 CANTO II. THE NEWS-ROOM. 233 
 
 Though damp thy sheet, and menacing with cokl, 
 To fire who has the patience to unfold ? 
 On ample board, Thou, like a Map, art spread. 
 At once two Readers ! down goes either head ; 
 Surpris'd, from sudden blow each head recoils ; 
 A luckier takes triumphantly the spoils : 
 Hand at each brow shows thrilling pain ensues. 
 But sores are quick forgotten in the News. 
 
 Frown not, ye Critics, while my lays commend 
 The page where ye your sweets and bitters blend. 
 How oft you teach to censure or admire 
 A Falstaff 's humour, or a Richard's ire ! 
 You make the buskin'd Actor feel your smart, 
 Who struts, and miserably spouts his part. 
 He still may feel it, still your wrath deserve, 
 But spare the Muse — Oh ! let your arrows swerve ! 
 For, while the wondrous Sheet she paints to view. 
 An entertaining Tale appears for you. 
 
 A City Sportsman to the Countiy came. 
 And vow'd unmatch'd destruction to the game
 
 234 THE NEWS-ROOM. CANTO II. 
 
 " I'll play," he chuckles, as his Piece he gripes, 
 
 " The deuce with Woodcocks, Partridges, and Snipes !" 
 
 Now through the woods he takes his devious way ; 
 Thorns now molest him, briars now delay — 
 At length a Woodcock challenges his skill, 
 He wonders much to see so long a Bill ! 
 He aims, and lo ! the Sportsman prostrate lies. 
 The Bird, untouch'd, to distant covert flies. 
 On cruel Fate the Cit exhausts his blame, 
 From Town who tempted him to follow Game. 
 
 Hence, sportive Critics ! vaunting of your skill, 
 Make, ere ye think to roast, full sure to kill : 
 'Tis barely possible, tormenting Elves ! 
 Your guns mai/ burst, and only mar yourselves. 
 
 But Stars grow dim, and Columns will remind 
 Of miry ways, whose end 'tis bliss to find ; 
 Of foul Canals, where pitchy Vessels glide. 
 Flats in all senses — (how sedate the ride !) 
 Whose shallow waters noisome Croakers throng, 
 Unwarm'd by Phoebus — narroiv, dark, and long !
 
 VNTO II. THE NEWS-ROOM. 235 
 
 Is there, who hopes unmingl'd good to find, 
 And would, for faults, the Mighty Engine bind ? — 
 As well forge fetters for the rolling Main ! 
 Him^ let primeval Darkness shade again ! — 
 The Press's beams subdue the shaming blots, 
 As, who at noon discerns the solar Spots ? 
 
 END OF THE SECOND CANTO.
 
 THE NEWS-ROOM, 
 
 CANTO THIRD.
 
 THE NEAYS-ROOM 
 
 CANTO THIRD. 
 
 The gray Goose Quill, that lends the arrow wings, 
 The wondrous Quill, that pacifies or stings, 
 Though dipp'd in colours of the heavenly Bow, 
 In raising bliss, or less'ning human woe. 
 Had little done — faint twilight to the earth — 
 Had not Invention watch'd the German's birth. 
 Immortal Guttemburg !* to Thee assign'd 
 The praise for blessings raising humankind ; 
 
 * GuTTEMBERG, the Inventor of Printing with moveable types, was boni 
 near Mentz, in 1397. In 1837 a splendid monument was erected to his memory 
 in that city. The reader is, doubtless, aware of the claim set up by Haerlem, 
 for Coster ; but I believe I follow the best authorities in giving the palm to 
 Guttemberg.
 
 240 THE NEWS-ROOM. CANTO III. 
 
 The flag of Freedom by thy Art's unfurl'd, 
 And Bigotry confronted through the world. 
 Before thy Power retires the moral night : 
 Orb, never setting ! still increasing light ! 
 
 The wondrous Nile, that Egypt's land o'erflows, 
 To springs remote it's mighty current owes : 
 Thus do the Rivers of our Presses rise, 
 That glad the Nation with their rich supplies ; 
 From humble vales, and hills of lofty stations, 
 Proudly they swell with all " Communications.^^ 
 Mist may obscure some tributary rill, 
 But dazzling bright the " leading article !" 
 
 Flow on, free Press, full Fountain of fmition, 
 And fill all channels with a 
 
 " third edition ! 
 
 From fresh advice receiv'd of Foreign Powers, 
 
 Express'd by Correspondent, solely Ours, 
 
 The wish of Foreign States for war will cease — 
 
 Thanks to Ourselves for advocating Peace !" 
 * * * * 
 
 (And thanks ye have, most potent Potentates ! 
 
 Most placid Monarchs of most peaceful States !)
 
 CANTO III. THE NEWS-ROOM. 241 
 
 " Should We have further to communicate, 
 The Press we'll stop, the tidings to relate." 
 * * * * 
 
 " We stop the Press, though grievous the delay, 
 To say We have — have nothing more to say .'"* 
 
 What ! beaten to a stand-still in the race — 
 Is it for want of matter, or of space ? — 
 Oh, mocking Press ! when planets cease to glow, 
 The sea to undulate, or breezes blow ; 
 When Statesmen's ends distinctly are discem'd, 
 And Bribes by every British Burgess spum'd ; 
 Then will the world all readily believe, 
 Thou, Nothing-like, hast nothing to conceive ! 
 
 Yet if, in Truth, in Editorial Mill, 
 Invention flag (as once, against his will, 
 Apollo stood !) accept excusing lay, — 
 The wonder is, ye have so much to say I 
 
 Farewell, pacific Powers ! continue semper 
 Idem, peerless patterns of good temjm- ! 
 
 * There is a story of the Press of a London Paper having been once actually 
 stopt, to announce that the Editor had nothing fui-ther to communicate.
 
 "242 THE NEWS-ROOM. CANTO III. 
 
 And may your Notice of my " Columns" be 
 A starry " Leader, ^^ glorious Galaxy ! 
 
 Unnoticed lie, ye Magazines, Reviews, 
 Should mighty Mars his timely aid refuse- 
 Oh, Power, protect, if not assist, the Muse 
 
 'Twas Even of a day in cold November, 
 Who had that morning parted from December, 
 Alone I mus'd, (O, rarest luxury, 
 Of Public Room sole occupant to be !) 
 Behold before gay Fancy's vision spread, 
 A host of Warriors, blue, and brown, and red ; 
 On this side Blues, in battle order stand, 
 The Broivns on other side await command ; 
 To corner of the Room the Reds withdraw, 
 All neuter, though to Army bred and Law ! 
 Each rank prepared, an anxious vigil keeps, — 
 The pause ere ripen'd fields a tempest sweeps. 
 At length the mighty Powder all Parties own, 
 Contention comes, and loud a blast is blown : 
 
 " Oh ! noble Warriors and Friends, with pain 
 Ye long have labour'd for this fresh campaign.
 
 CANTO III. THE NEWS-ROOM. 243 
 
 How many weary days of ceaseless toil, 
 How many feet of Gas — so shaming oil! — 
 Have ye consum'd, since last ye bravely met, 
 To settle diff'rences, not settled yet ! 
 How I commend your aspects, how admire 
 Your well-known figures, deck'd in new attire ! 
 And punctuality, as ever, shows 
 The same indomitable spirit glows. 
 Once more behold, my very valiant Friends, 
 Your Umpire true, while foe with foe contends ! 
 A Friend you know am I to either side, 
 (Nor time nor circumstance shall e'er divide !) 
 And you love me, or ye are much belied. 
 On ! in battalions on ! or hand to hand 
 Engage, as each his powers may best command. 
 In Glory's field let none presume to mix. 
 Theology who slight, or Politics ! 
 Remember, Friends, for principle ye cufi", 
 A Caitifi" he, who first cries — ' hold, enough !' " 
 
 Fir'd at the voice, each to the battle springs, 
 Host falls on host, to Champion, Champion clings. 
 Confusion spreads. Dissenters, Churchmen, fall, 
 Mistaking Tory fights for Radical ;
 
 244 THE NEWS-ROOM. CANTO III. 
 
 Designing Party shadows all their eyes, 
 True friend from foe distinctly none descries, 
 And Friend, hy Friendship smitten, breathless lies ! 
 At length Contention, fearing end too soon, 
 Removes the films — the fight goes fairly on, 
 And Paperloo had then been fairly won, 
 Had not dark Infantry of Daily Press, 
 (All wrongs, like Quixote, foremost to redress,) 
 Rush'd in between, and mingled with each band — 
 A cloud of Locusts dark'ning Egypt's strand ! 
 Contention then her cherish'd pleasure broke, 
 And thus, with anguish, to all Parties spoke : — 
 
 " Much as I am in lov'd confusion grounded, 
 I like not this ' confusion worse confounded !' 
 Withdraw, dear Heroes, from the fight to-day. 
 Since now, 'tis certain, none can have fair play. 
 And meet me, Casars of the Quill, again 
 At usual period — meantime refrain 
 From Disputation, and attention turn 
 To plans that ye intrusive Troops may spurn. 
 That each may meddle with his own concern ! " 
 
 At this the Bands that had endur'd War's shock 
 An hour, by Truth's own Time Piece, " Shrewsbury Clock,"
 
 CANTO III. THE NEWS-ROOM. 245 
 
 Obedient file, and lo ! the fallen live : 
 
 The general shout — " Next Month again we strive !" 
 
 So Actors fall, but never quite expire ; 
 
 So Salamanders revel in the fire ! 
 
 And now all fear had vanish'd, but with eye 
 Of fire, look'd " Edinburgh''^ on " Quarterly.'' 
 Contention saw, and arm'd with bullets sheen 
 And Double Gun, the Sporting Magazine, 
 And cried — " See, where the Rival Chiefs remain, 
 Intent on slaughter still ! — take steady aim — 
 (Think only thei/ shall reap in field of fame ?) 
 If either menace more, let bullets fly, 
 A Sportsman's metal shall their mettle try !" 
 
 She spoke — appearances of discord cease : 
 I seiz'd a Chronicle, and read in peace. 
 
 Fly, wayward Muse ! from literary ground, 
 To where the Name, if not the steam, is found. 
 Of fragrant Coffee. Near at hand behold 
 A Coffee-Room, in reputation old. 
 Thither the Members of the News-Room hie. 
 For change, or chat, in social revelry.
 
 246 THE NEWS-ROOM. CANTO III. 
 
 The spot elated Discord doth frequent — 
 Unguarded Politicians ! how they vent 
 Opinions, spurn'd or cherish'd by the throng — 
 Ye Gods ! the bliss to be the strife among. 
 Stentorian Orators exert their powers ; 
 The view now brightens, now Misfortune lowers : 
 Each principle is quickly canvass'd round ; 
 A difiPrent course to steer each Bark is found, 
 As some are inward, others, outward hound. 
 
 One who has long in Opposition stood, 
 First sighs, then utters in desponding mood. 
 
 " Ye, who for England's weal your thoughts employ, 
 Say, are ye sure your children will enjoy 
 The privileges we to birthright owe ? 
 Methinks I hear you sighing, answer ' No !' 
 England, alas ! is verging to her doom — 
 Behold, Britannia weeps o'er Freedom's tomb ! 
 Dread Silence reigns, portending danger nigh, 
 As, ere the fiercer storm, the calmer sky. 
 Soon will the tempest burst with reckless rage, 
 Then, vain to hope the whirlwind to assuage.
 
 CANTO III. THE NEWS-ROOM. 247 
 
 Hands at the helm of Britain ! as ye glide 
 With all the luxuries of Place supplied, 
 How lib'ral are ye with the People's gains ! 
 Wealth to your friends, to those who earn it, chains, 
 'Gainst all that's high and patriotic steel'd. 
 What will ye not, except your Places, yield ?" 
 
 " Hold, hold those scoffs unjust," the quick retort, 
 " Proud were our cause, indeed, with your support ! 
 At ranks of Opposition take a glance. 
 While they declaim against extravagance. 
 And rail at those who moderately share 
 Official fruits, the loaves and finny fare 
 Eternally attract their longing eyes. 
 And each for Office, not for Country, sighs ! 
 Remove the Ministry, a motley crew 
 To man the Vessel would appear to view !" 
 
 Sedate, in distant comer of the Room, 
 A Citizen observe, immers'd in gloom. 
 He rises now, and mingles in the storm, 
 Rous'd by the wakeful Spirit of Reform.
 
 248 THE NEWS-ROOM. CANTO III. 
 
 " Alas ! for Britain, rapid her decay, 
 To canker, cherisli'd by herself, the Prey ! 
 Who can deny the Constitution teems 
 With beauty, but like crumbling beauty seems, 
 A Temple, once magnificent and fair — 
 Time conquers all, with Time that Temple spare? 
 Admire it, Britons ! but with ready hands, 
 Apply the remedies its age demands ; 
 In Britain oak-materials abound — 
 Oh ! put not rotten timber to the wound" — 
 
 Another Voice — " The Constitution shows, 
 Like splendid relic of a splendid hose : 
 For me, I am dispos'd long still to wear. 
 Would Statesmen only put it in repair. 
 There are who hold, (position false or true one,) 
 The time is come for looking out a new one." 
 
 At this a Tory, with an angry eye — 
 " Methinks I hear of Radicals the cry ! 
 The Hydra-Monster knows not its true want ; 
 Reform is nothing but a specious cant.
 
 CANTO III. THE NEWS-ROOM. 249 
 
 Conjoin'd, the Church and State true hearts revere, 
 
 From age, how venerable both appear ! 
 
 Touch, and you'll bring a house about your ear ! 
 
 Disloyal, discontented bands combine. 
 
 Reform the cry, but plunder the design. 
 
 A little steel may their complaints relieve, — 
 
 Let those who quan-el with their country, leave." 
 
 " Beware," the Citizen replies, " lest you 
 To desperation drive the stormy crew. 
 Grant error leads the populace — look round. 
 Are not all Parties in her mazes found ? 
 What ! is Britannia so ungen'rous grown. 
 To spurn the hands by which her wealth is sown ? 
 Forbid it. Heaven ! grant I may live to see, 
 The Nation's wrongs redress'd, the people free 
 As each in his peculiar sphere should be. 
 The claw of Power relax its griping fangs. 
 And Party-Rage give place to Pity's pangs." 
 
 " Alas ! for some," (another of the throng,) 
 "Persisting still, though radically wrong ! 
 Who think, though through the Universal range 
 All things are changing. States should never change,
 
 250 THE NEWS-ROOM. CANTO III. 
 
 And, in offended, pleading Reason's spite. 
 
 Deem millions wrong — themselves, a handful, right ! 
 
 Oh ! bear them to some far, oblivious shore. 
 
 Where Freedom's shout may never fright them more ! 
 
 Thou, Stubbornness, their iron-Idol be. 
 
 While they roam tranquil by their own Dead Sea. 
 
 Methinks I mark — not distant is the date — 
 
 When Patriot-hands shall yet preserve the State ; 
 
 Britannia's Spirit, to admhing eyes. 
 
 Shall like a Phoenix from her ashes rise. 
 
 Bands shall unite, to plant amid the storm, 
 
 And guard the British Evergreen — Reform I 
 
 A name for Liberty she yet shall boast. 
 
 While songs of gladness echo round her coast, 
 
 Her Bards in peace their sunny hours consume. 
 
 Her Arts and Sciences unrivall'd bloom." 
 
 Nor yet discomfited, the Tory burns 
 With indignation — to the charge returns — 
 A wordy broadside pours for their solution — 
 "Rads, Ranters, Rebels, Riot, Revolution !" 
 
 But most the quarrel-loving Goddess sways, 
 When Students loud commingling voices raise.
 
 CANTO III. THE NEWS-ROOM. 251 
 
 Fierce is the conflict, terrible the clash 
 
 Of opposite Opinions ! tides that dash 
 
 In Straights of foaming Menai — as they meet 
 
 They triumph both, for neither owns defeat ! 
 
 O, mine of rich variety of thought. 
 Gems, that by Art in future may be wrought ! 
 And though unwelcome differences rise, 
 The searching questions, circumspect replies, 
 Afford ofttimes an enviable joy, 
 A field attractive for young Thought's employ ; 
 Light in the bosom public Virtue's fire. 
 Whose sparks, electric, other breasts inspire. 
 
 Sons of Britannia ! while your spirit warms 
 Amid the Senate's or the News-Room's swamis, 
 Now gliding with, now combating the tide, 
 Is there a loftier aim, a nobler pride, 
 Above all sordid, selfish ends to spring, 
 Impell'd by love of Country and of King ? 
 In every State commotion will prevail. 
 Yet, after storms, how healthful blows the gale ! 
 Let Party strive, but, Oh ! let Freedom reign — 
 Think how yourselves could bear a mental chain !
 
 252 THE NEWS-ROOM. 
 
 Behold, where'er enlight'ning Commerce flies, 
 Mankind admiring Britain's energies : 
 At her behest, no more shall man enthral, 
 But Slav'ry skulk, abash'd, and Tyrants fall ! 
 Be Justice, Wisdom, handmaids of the State, 
 Britannia's glory none shall emulate. 
 
 CANTO III. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 PRINTED BY JOHN DAVIES, SHREWSBURY.
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 BfilVERSITT OF CAT Jl^wmrir
 
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