t^//"^* t-'/^^i-jT ^/^/^2^ 
 
 POEMS 
 
 BY 
 
 ELIJAH BARWELL IMPEY, ESQ; 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR 
 
 LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWN, 
 PATERNOSTER-ROW. 
 
 1811.
 
 J. M'Creerv, Printer, 
 Black-Horse- Couit, Fleet-Street, 
 London.
 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 DEDICATION 1 
 
 Daj/lesford, a Poem, inscribed to Warren Hast- 
 ings, Esq 5 
 
 An Elegiac Poem, addressed to Edivard Impey, 
 
 Esq <. 13 
 
 Our Native Soil, a paraphrased translation of a 
 
 Latin Poem, entitled, " Natale Solum" . 37 
 
 'i7*e Sylphs; or, the Kosicrusian Island, a 
 Dramatic Poem, inscribed to the Me- 
 mory of a Lady 61 
 
 Baucis and Philetnon, a Burleita 119 
 
 Verses addressed to a Friend, on his leaving Oxford 187 
 
 ^/?^f8
 
 VI CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 A Sonnet, addressed to Richard Cumberland, Esq. 
 
 on reading his Memoirs 192 
 
 A Card of Invitation, to the Rev. J. J. Cony- 
 
 heare, A. M. Anglo-Saxon Professor in 
 
 the University of Oxford 193 
 
 Written on an Islet in Newick Park 197 
 
 The Suicide, from the Latin of V. Bourne . . . 200 
 
 The Wild Hyacinth 202 
 
 The Grey Geese of Addlestrop Hill 205 
 
 Pug's Masquerade, a Sequel to the Peacock at 
 
 Home, inscribed to Miss Lovibond . . 217 
 The Ant and the Cricket; from ha Fontaine; 
 
 Addressed to a Friend 231 
 
 Imitation of Horace, Epist. I. 10, addressed to 
 
 James Bostvell, Esq. Barrister at Laiv . . 235 
 Imitalion of Horace, Epist. I. 8, addressed to a 
 
 friend 246
 
 CONTENTS. VII 
 
 Page 
 
 Imitation of Horace, Epist. I. 3, addressed to a 
 
 friend 249 
 
 Imitation of Horace, Epist. I. 4, addressed to 
 
 Richard Edensor Heathcote, Esq. . . . 254 
 Part of the Tenth Book of Ovid's Metamor- 
 phoses, containing the Story of Hippomenes 
 
 and Atalanta, translated 257 
 
 Translation of the Speech of Therarnenes, from 
 
 the Phadre of Racine 271
 
 TO LADY IMPEY. 
 
 Flushing, January, 1810. 
 
 My Dear and Honoured Madam, 
 
 IN preparing this little volume for your 
 perusal, I have endeavoured to turn to some advantage 
 those hours of leisure and retirement which I am dis- 
 abled by sickness from devoting to more important 
 proofs of filial affection. 
 
 Nothing has been wanting to render this token worthy 
 of your acceptance, that depended either upon my own 
 efforts, or upon the encouragement and criticism be- 
 stowed on them by my literary friends. 
 
 B
 
 u 
 
 The latter, except where a more exphcit avowal has 
 been deemed indispensable, it will be sufficient for me 
 generally to acknowledge, without a personal reference 
 to authorities, which might perhaps give weight to my 
 exertions, but could add none to reputations already 
 established. 
 
 There is a sacred respect due to some characters, 
 which should preserve them inviolate for occasions ex- 
 clusively suited to their importance. 
 
 Besides, every appeal to the public, presupposes a 
 privilege in the public of pronouncing a definitive sen- 
 tence, unbiassed by all possible respectability of private 
 recommendation. 
 
 Had I not hoped that these productions were in some 
 degree worthy of publication, I should not have com- 
 mitted them to the press : much less should I have 
 presumed to shelter my defects as a writer, under the 
 sanction of your revered name.
 
 HI 
 
 But, without affecting indifference to whatever po- 
 pular success this work may obtain, I can with sincerity 
 assure you that my principal gratification will arise from 
 the pleasure which your maternal indulgence disposes 
 you to feel on receiving this imperfeet testimony of 
 attachment from. 
 
 Your dutiful and affectionate son, 
 
 E. B. IMPEY. 
 
 b2
 
 DAYLESFORD, 
 
 A POEM, 
 
 INSCRIBED TO 
 
 WARREN HASTINGS, ESQ. 
 
 For sacred was the pen that wrote, 
 Thy father's friend forget thou not. 
 
 Scott's Marmion, Introduct. to Cant. 4.
 
 DAYLESFORD. 
 
 Once more to Daylesford's hospitable shade 
 
 Where first my Muse her trembhng wings essay'd, 
 
 Pleas'd I return, while studious to atone 
 
 The lapse of years irrevocably flown. 
 
 Imagination takes a wider range, 
 
 And views the past contrasted with the change. 
 
 How dear to meditation is the scene ! 
 These meadows cloath'd in variegated green. 
 These lawns soft-sloping to the watery verge. 
 Whose winding current knows no boisterous surge.
 
 The mimic isle that blushes not to own 
 Her parent art, which rear'd the moss-clad stone,. 
 The waving ash that crowns her rocky brow. 
 And sheds her vermeil-cluster'd locks below. 
 
 The briery copse— the hill that steals between 
 
 How dear to meditation is the scene ! 
 
 But chief the gloom of yon sequester'd dell 
 Deep as the fabled haunts where Dryads dwell. 
 Invites to thought : by many a mazy turn 
 Steep winds the path to it's remotest bourn. 
 The centre of the groves ; where nought invades 
 The still unbroken twilight of the shades. 
 Save the cool whisper of the tumbling rill 
 Which from the shelvy side of yon hoar hill 
 Now caught, now lost amid th' obtruding leaves. 
 Foams down the craggy channel which it cleaves. 
 Then thro' the vale with mitigated force 
 Glides unpcrceived forgetful of it's source ; 
 As one by ceaseless persecution worn. 
 Beset with ills, yet proof to fortune's scorn
 
 Greatly retires, collected and resign'd. 
 Nor casts one look of self-reproach behind. 
 
 Roll, gentle Naiad, roll thy stream secure, 
 The taintless emblem of a soul as pure ; 
 And, ever as it flows, in duty say. 
 Whose hand entic'd thy vagrant tide to stray 
 Wide of it's wonted bed, and proudly pour 
 Down the tall clifF, thy boundary before? 
 Who o'er thy banks in wild luxuriance gave 
 Those pendent boughs to wanton in thy wave. 
 And with the magic of inventive taste 
 Redeemed this fair creation from the waste ? 
 
 Nay, let the pious bard with pride confess 
 Himself indebted to that hand no less. 
 That fostering hand that beautified the glade, 
 Prun'd into shape and thicken'd into shade, 
 Vouchsaf'd alike his shapeless youth to mould. 
 And guard it's blossoms from the blasting cold. 
 By virtue's rules it's moral growth defin'd. 
 And purg'd from vice the canker of the mind. 
 
 B 3
 
 10 
 
 Yes, let the careless eye contented trace. 
 Nor search beyond the glare of outward grace ; 
 There's not a charm, these pensive walks impart. 
 But speaks some useful lesson to the heart. 
 More deeply grav'd, more eloquently told. 
 Than aught in philosophic page enroU'd. 
 For who yon smiling hamlet can survey. 
 The rising farm new-rescu'd from decay. 
 The church-way path re})air'd, the warm clad poor. 
 The garden fence that skirts the cottage door, 
 Where now the widow'd dame forgets her tears. 
 And gives to prayer the remnant of her years — 
 Who can unmov'd survey ? what breast so dark 
 But at the sight would catch a kindred spark, 
 'Till rous'd and bursting into brighter fires 
 It glows, it burns to be what it admires ? 
 Or who, that treads these venerable groves. 
 Feels not an honest transport as he roves. 
 And in these domes reveres, but yet bewails 
 The mute retreat that powerless virtue veils? 
 Where toil reposing, wakes to woe no more. 
 And self-rewarded spares the public store. —
 
 11 
 
 Ye powers of freedom, whom my soul adores. 
 Pride, Honour, Faith— that onre these haughty shores 
 Arm'd and embelHsh'd, let it not be told 
 From patriot claims that Britain could withhold 
 The hard-earn'd wages of successful pains 
 Borne for her sake ; then plunder'd of their gains ; 
 That chasM to private shades by factious hate 
 Hastings unhonour'd shar'd a Scipio's fate; 
 And left, like him, in characters as just, 
 " Ungrateful country"* carv'd upon his bust — 
 It must not be — hence inauspicious thought ! 
 Thus hope prophetic sets despair at nought. 
 
 " Genius of Daylesford — friend to worth deprest. 
 Where science adds a dignity to rest. 
 Where grace and sage morality combine. 
 Still shall their due prerogatives be thine : 
 
 * In allusion to a bust of Mr. Hastings, in the possession of the 
 Marquis of Lansdovvne, inscribed after the manner of the tomb 
 of Scipio Africanus, with these words, <' Ingrata Patiia." 
 
 Valek. Max.
 
 12 
 
 Still shalt thou rise; and fair betide that hour. 
 
 Which gilds thy shades with glory, rank, and power. 
 
 Too long o'ercast, thy dim horizon clears. 
 
 Pours on the plains, and all the landscape cheers; 
 
 Flowers of unfading bloom thy banks attire. 
 
 Thy porches swell, thy pinnacles aspire. 
 
 And beams of mild benevolence afar 
 
 More widely blaze from thine ascendant star." 
 
 Enough — For injur'd innocence to plead. 
 To point to merit and assert the meed. 
 To wail, or deprecate a nation's shame. 
 Which e'en redress so late can scarce reclaim, 
 Daylesford, thy shades inspire — to thee belong 
 No partial bard, no mercenary song, 
 No Muse who blushes to recount thy praise. 
 For truth and friendship justify the lays.
 
 AN 
 
 ELEGIAC POEM, 
 
 ADDRESSED TO 
 
 EDWARD IMPEY, ESQ.
 
 AN 
 
 ELEGIAC POEM. 
 
 Sed totara hoc studium luctu fraterna mihi mors 
 
 Abstulit. O misero fiater ademte mihi. 
 Tu mea tu morieus fi egisti commoda, frater : 
 
 Tecum und tota est nostra sepulta domus : 
 Omnia tecum una perierunt gaudia nostra, 
 
 Quas tuus in vita dulcis alebat amor. 
 Cujus ego iuteritu tota de mente fugavi 
 
 Haec studia, atque omnes delicias animi. 
 
 Catullus. 
 
 Through these lone walks, and desolated bowers. 
 Scenes of my careless youth in happier hours. 
 From waste to waste perplex'd and lost I roam. 
 And trace, but faintly trace, my wonted home.
 
 16 
 
 So chang'd, alas ! deserted and decay'd 
 That scarce the Dryads own their native shade ; 
 But weep their fleeting glories in the wane. 
 And yield to solitude the sylvan reign. 
 
 Hush'd is the vocal dome ; no sprightly sound 
 Of tuneful stop, provokes the mazy round : 
 The giddy sport, the rapture unsupprest. 
 The toil alternate, and the balmy rest. 
 The short-liv'd cares, that ever at their birth 
 By quick transition brighten'd into mirth. 
 The fire of early zeal, the liberal flow 
 From soul to soul of mutual bliss and woe. 
 All, all are fled, and can I still forbear 
 In bitterness to think that such things were ? 
 
 Dear early partners of my infant years. 
 Source of my pleasures past, my future tears. 
 Friends of my youth, on whom my soul lelied. 
 Brothers, by more than kindred ties allied. 
 For you I mourn ; most cherish'd, most deplor'd. 
 Both fled afar ; one ne'er to be restor'd !
 
 17 
 
 For me — few traces left of bliss enjoy'd. 
 No prospect onward, but a gloomy void. 
 What now remains, but on the world's wide stage 
 Friendless, forlorn, to waste my prime of age ? 
 Unnotic'd, unemploy'd ; or if iu aught 
 The object of a momentary thought. 
 Perchance to brook the cold insulting phrase 
 Of feign'd compassion, or unmeaning praise. 
 
 Yet not of all. — Unpitying world! let those 
 Thy bounty crave, who in thy faith repose : 
 Enough for me that still a few there are 
 Who share my griefs — 'tis all I have to share ; 
 Friends with the will, if not the power, to raise. 
 Whose favour fires me, and whose counsel sways : 
 Foremost of all — forgive the wish too free — 
 Hastings — my soul aspires to number thee: 
 Belov'd, rever'd, from childhood as my sire. 
 Guide of my steps, and patron of my lyre. 
 Thy patience prov'd by the severest test. 
 Thy wrongs by all allow'd, by none redrest.
 
 18 
 
 Thy calm philosophy, thy soul sedate. 
 Amid reviling crowds serenely great. 
 Teach me alike to combat with my woe ; 
 Ah ! could I war like thee, and triumph so ! 
 Yet pardon, that alone thy wrongs I name. 
 And bid th' historic Muse thy deeds proclaim : 
 They trumpet-tongued for just renown shall plead. 
 And future patriots envy, as they read. 
 
 Sad themes to feebler elegies belong. 
 And milder virtues grace the moral song : 
 Thou or retir'd, or at a nation's helm. 
 Canst sweeten social life, or save a realm; 
 Meek, when exalted, dauntless when opprest. 
 Canst smile at tempests, in thyself at rest ; 
 And teach mankind in either state to prize 
 The conscious mind that cheers each sacrifice. 
 
 But tho' stern Wisdom to itself severe 
 Steel thy firm heart, and check the starting tear. 
 Yet, touch'd by weakness to thyself unknown, 
 Thy bosom bleeds for sorrows not its own.
 
 19 
 
 Weep then with me, as when o'er EUot's grave* 
 
 Thou bad'st the never-dying cypress wave : 
 
 Nor scorn the tribute not less duly paid 
 
 To early worth, that flourish but to fade ; 
 
 Ah me I too soon to fade, while yet the bloom 
 
 Of hopeful youth announc'd a better doom. 
 
 Else had his virtues rais'd one trophy more 
 
 To grace the good, the glorious name he bore ; 
 
 But fate forbad. — To sultry climes a prey, 
 
 Snatch'd from his home, and weeping friends away, 
 
 'Midst hordes unknown, beneath whose ruthless skies / 
 
 Clos'd in a foreign grave my brother lies ! 
 
 No parent's hand his parting pangs allay'd. 
 
 No sister breath'd a requiem to his shade. 
 
 * See Mr. Hastings's beautiful imitation of Horace, ode xiii. 
 book 2. 
 
 An early deatli was Eliot's doom, 
 I saw liis opening virtues bloom^ 
 
 And manly sense unfold, 
 Too soon to fade : I bade tlie stone 
 Record his name; 'mid hordes unknown, 
 Unknowing what it told.
 
 20 
 
 No brethren rang'd along the dreary way 
 Held the black pall^ and led the long array : 
 'Reft of it's dearest dues his injur'd bier 
 Unheeded pass'd, nor drank one kindred tear. 
 
 One only friend — ^just Heav'n the deed requite! 
 One only friend perform'd the solemn rite ; 
 Mourn'd o'er his ashes with a father's care. 
 And bade the stone a fair memorial bear 
 Of modest worth, that late aspires to fame. 
 In all the fragrance of a spotless name. 
 
 Dear, generous bard ! whose breast congenial knew 
 To prize the virtues, which it harbour'd too; 
 With artless grace their tuneful meed to pour. 
 And by thy practice recommend them more ; 
 Oh ! let me bless again thy pious aid, 
 Nor leave my debt of gratitude unpaid ; 
 On all thy tender acts of bounty dwell. 
 On all I strongly feel, but feebly tell. — 
 
 And shall my Muse in profitless despair 
 Still faltering cease th' allotted task to share?
 
 £1 
 
 Ah no ! for who his merits should attest 
 But he who felt, rever'd, and lov'd them best ; 
 Shar'd all his thoughts, observ'd his growing worth. 
 And saw his embryo virtues blossom forth ? 
 
 What time array'd in friendship's early guise. 
 Warm from the heart the generous passions rise. 
 His guileless soul no sordid interest knew. 
 Firm to each trust, unalterably true ; 
 Slow to solicit, eager to impart. 
 His liberal hand accorded with his heart : 
 His was the wish by continence refin'd. 
 And e'en that wish denied, he ne'er repin'd, 
 Nor idly gave the selfish sorrow vent. 
 But gladly shar'd or yielded with content : 
 His gentle voice, that knew no harsher tone, 
 Rever'd the menial's feelings as his own ; 
 Attracted, sooth'd, with kind complacence won. 
 And each domestic lov'd him, as his son. 
 
 His ripening years no tyrant vice defil'd. 
 Still were his pastimes innocent and mild ;
 
 22 
 
 Life's bouyant tide ran chasten'd thro' his veins. 
 Nor e*er to riot gave the slacken'd reins. 
 But taught his well-pois'd element to gain 
 That golden mean, which sages preach in vain. 
 Yet tho' the milder virtues calm'd his breast. 
 Valour within her ample throne possess'd : 
 A foe to broils, unpractis'd in despite. 
 Bold and determin'd in defence of right. 
 Of blushing diffidence a sample rare. 
 Of soul unblemish'd, as of favour fair. 
 Of manly mind, e'er manhood yet began. 
 Blameless to God, benevolent to Man, 
 Such was his youth, so clos'd his speedy race, 
 A world of worth in life's contracted space. 
 And could not all retard th' untimely blow. 
 Nor foil the fatal shaft that laid him low? 
 Was there no guardian pow'r to interpose 
 ' And spare a mother's tears, a father's woes ? 
 
 Ah ! hapless parents ! doom'd at life's decline 
 In thwarted hope's keen agony to pine.
 
 23 
 
 Was it for this, that worn with anxious cai'e. 
 Ye wearied heav'n with many a bootless prayer r 
 For this in dread suspense of hopes and fears 
 'EVA out the remnant of your waning years? 
 Fo this the pains of age regretless bore, 
 Reinik'd the tedious days, yet pray'd for more. 
 Am; fondly wish'd, with a parental eye, 
 Once more to gaze upon his face, and die ? 
 
 How prone to err, how ignorantly blind. 
 Is all the vaunted foresight of mankind! 
 While thus ye mus'd, unconscious of his fate. 
 Vain were your dreams, and all your prayers too late ; 
 For he ere then had reach'd the peaceful urn. 
 His long, last home — ne'er fated to return. 
 
 Ah ! then, farewel — all-hallow'd be thy rest. 
 And light the soil that presses on thy breast. 
 Thou noblest youth! thou gentlest, and thou best ; 
 Farewel the fond desire, indulg'd in vain. 
 With thee to tread these wonted paths again ; 
 
 }
 
 24 
 
 Together pause o'er many a tale re-told 
 Of all our boyish feats achiev'd of old; 
 And all our years of tedious absence o'er. 
 Here to repose, here meet to part no more. 
 
 Rous'd by that strain, remembrance idly strays 
 From objects present to departed days ; 
 With boundless range each opening scene reviews- 
 Each opening scene some past delight renews : 
 Till forms from Time's oblivious waste retriev'd. 
 Cheat the fond sight that strives to be deceived; 
 Each pulse accordant throbs with livelier youth. 
 And fiction half re-kindles into truth. 
 
 From yon bold steep that overlooks the vale. 
 Wide was the view, refreshing was the gale ; 
 There oft' we paus'd to guide the roving eye 
 Where to the East the sloping uplands lie ; 
 While many a spiry turret rose between. 
 Park, forest, heath, and cultivated green ; 
 Then nearer mark'd the rising smoke betray 
 Where the close-shelter'd neighbouring hamlet lay:
 
 25 
 
 Thence homeward turning to the southern steep. 
 Whose waving outHne intercepts the deep, 
 Clos'd in those narrow bounds we smil'd to view 
 Our little world, nor dream'd as yet of new ; 
 Unseen, unheard, beyond, the billows roar'd ; 
 Oh ! had they still been ever unexplor'd ! 
 Oh ! had ye ne'er resign'd a state like this 
 In blind pursuit of visionary bliss ! 
 
 For why, since few the sweets that life bestows 
 By self-inflicted ills diminish those ? 
 Enough were ever ample, if we knew 
 Th' ideal good to balance with the true. 
 And thence discern, where'er ambition tends. 
 How vague her means, inadequate her ends ; 
 How blest the mind, whose temperance needs but these. 
 Health, freedom, innocence, domestic ease ! 
 
 To dear domestic pleasures, now no more. 
 Still let me turn, tho' hopeless to restore ; 
 Still, Memory, still indulge the soothing strain. 
 Dwell on the past, and dream of bKss again. 
 
 c
 
 26 
 
 Oft' has yon aged Oak's o'er-branching shade 
 Yielded the kindly covert when we play'd ; 
 Beneath their shelt'ring arch secure and warm 
 Oft have we mark'd the pelting of the storm ; 
 Or strove with rival speed, and ready sleight 
 Foremost to mount, and gain the nodding height : 
 Or lowlier oft', when studious hours inspir'd. 
 Beneath their cool umbrageous boughs retir'd 
 We sat us down ; nor felt the lapse of time, 
 Lull'd with the music of some heavenly rhyme. 
 
 But all is silence now : Farewell the song. 
 The shady bench, the mute attentive throng 
 Farewell ! No more I'll woo the fairy dream 
 By poets fabled at the wizard stream ; 
 Nor in these twilight shades embosom'd feel 
 Congenial peace upon my senses steal. 
 
 For no retirement can exclude the din 
 That loudly raging storms the breast within j 
 No lulling gale, still shade, and sky serene. 
 Can on the soul impress the peaceful scene :
 
 27 
 
 Far different then, while yet unus'd to woe 
 Pure as the breeze the unfetter'd spirits flow j 
 All objects then from the beholder's sight 
 Imbibe the borrow'd colour of delight ; 
 The landscape glows in livelier tints array'd. 
 And wilder wood-notes warble in the glade : 
 But as advancing years their tribute bear 
 Of grief, or sickness, want, and withering care. 
 Each source of bliss embitter'd turns to pain. 
 As the fresh stream, that mingles with the main. 
 
 For in itself the pregnant mind contains 
 The latent seeds of pleasures and of pains. 
 Whose gross external instruments alone 
 From her derive their temper and their tone ; 
 Themselves incapable, at her controul 
 They touch the chords that vibrate to the soul ; 
 By fancies varying with her wayward will 
 Enhance the good, and aggravate the ill. 
 And o'er the breast, as different passions warm, 
 Assume the power to torture or to charm. 
 
 c2
 
 28 
 
 Yon decent Farm, that crowns the circling mead, 
 Where scatter'd flocks and lowing oxen feed. 
 And deck'd in mantling vines, and woodbine gay 
 With hospitable front adorns the way. 
 There were we wont to share the rustic cheer 
 Earn'd by the patient labour of a year : 
 There the quaint jest, and antiquated tale. 
 The frothy can replete with flowing ale. 
 And many an uncouth catch and rude essay 
 Of antic feat prolonged the genial day. 
 And haply too — for youth is ever free — 
 We led the dance, and caught the general glee ; 
 Handed the cup, and fram'd some homely strain 
 To hail the season, and exhort the swain ; 
 While oft some hoary guest with simple truth 
 Heap'd many a blessing on our dawning youth j 
 Or breath'd in silent vows a sober zeal. 
 And smil'd foreboding of our future weal. 
 
 Vain, empty prayers ! prediction rarely true. 
 From past felicity to argue new I
 
 29 
 
 Life's early promise smiles but to betray. 
 
 Like the short snatches of an April day ; 
 
 Fair breaks the Morn, till gathering clouds combine. 
 
 And twilight thickens, ere the Sun decline. 
 
 Yet turn again ; that lowly bower survey^ 
 Whose quivering oziers o'er the waters play ; 
 Rear'd by our hands the darling fabric there 
 Grew into shape, and own'd our fostering care ; 
 And oft' our playful industry repaid 
 With the fresh zephyr and the noontide shade j 
 For there we lov'd the luring bait to throw. 
 And patient search the peopled stream below ; 
 Or plunge beneath the wave, or thither guide 
 The light skift' dancing on the ruftled tide : 
 
 Hard by with pendent shrubs and rocky steep 
 A little Island rises o'er the deep : 
 Romantic Fancy paints in fond review 
 The busy plots which there my Childhood drew ; 
 Whene'er intent the mimic war to wage 
 We nimbly strove with counterfeited rage.
 
 so 
 
 These from the deck with active leap to gain 
 The shppery bank, those struggling to maintain : 
 E'en now the clamorous rout, the splashing oar. 
 The white sail flapping on the leeward shore. 
 All the rude sports that bustled o'er the isle 
 Crowd on my thoughts, and force a tearful smile. 
 A tearful smile is all I can bestow 
 On objects once so dear, so bitter now. 
 
 What boot they now but this sad truth to trace. 
 That I survive, the remnant of my race ; 
 In vain my lost companions to deplore. 
 To hear their voices in the waters roar. 
 Or near the accustom'd grove their forms descry, 
 Pictur'd in wild Imagination's eye? 
 
 For all surviving relics of delight 
 Are but the faint recorders of it's flight, 
 Aid but our woes, or feebly charm at most. 
 Like shipwreck'd trophies rear'd upon the coast. 
 That lowering o'er the deeps they grac'd before. 
 In sad memorial mark the fatal shore.
 
 31 
 
 O vain Prosperity! thou specious curse. 
 Whose transient sweets embitter thy reverse. 
 Better at once thy treacherous cup forego. 
 Than by the draught unnerv'd await the blow. 
 
 Yet, yet forbear, irreverently vain, 
 Heav'n's all-disposing Wisdom to arraign. 
 All human bhss is borrow 'd, not our own — 
 Why rail, if Providence resume the loan ? 
 E'en our regrets from Heav'n's indulgence flow ; 
 Were good withheld, it's loss we ne'er should know ; 
 Then rather bless that unexhausted store 
 That for each blessing past, can lavish more ; 
 That chastening hand, on Mercy still intent. 
 That first suspends, then smooths the punishment. 
 
 Firm to that Faith my soul expatiates free, 
 O'er-leaps each barrier, and reverts to thee. 
 To thee the best resource that heav'n can lend. 
 My latest hope — my Brother and my friend. 
 
 O ever present in my fancy's sight. 
 My thought by day, my vision in the night,
 
 32 
 
 From thy kind hand I still may find relief. 
 
 And quaft'the soothing antidote to grief; 
 
 Bare ail my breast, and bid thee claim the space. 
 
 Which, but a Brother, who can e'er replace ? 
 
 There let us both, forgetful of our woes. 
 
 In unreserv'd security repose ; 
 
 And, as yon elms their ivied arches throw. 
 
 Conspire, conform, and to each other grow. 
 
 There friendship shall assert his ample reign, 
 
 And round us twine th' indissoluble chain. 
 
 Impatient of the bliss my Genius hails 
 Thy glad return. Arise propitious gales. 
 Speed the swift bark, and crowd the swelling sails 
 Welcome ! thrice welcome to thy native soil ! 
 The genial hearth, the fond parental smile 
 Await thee still, and bless thy cheerful home 
 With large reserve of comforts yet to come. 
 
 No more the torrid sun's unhallow'd ray 
 Shall waste thy rifled vigour to decay. 
 Whether he blazes in his fiercest noon. 
 Or gleams infectious in the dank monsoon : 
 
 .1
 
 33 
 
 Here mildei' planets temperately glow ; 
 No scorching blast, but gales that gently blow. 
 Salute thy cheek ; beneath thy way-worn tread 
 Springs the fresh verdure of the daisied mead. 
 
 These woods a soft deciduous foliage wear. 
 With grateful change to recreate the year ; 
 Their safe retreats, and unmolested shades 
 No savage din of hungry yell invades. 
 Nor in the grassy path, and rustling brake 
 Lurks the fell tiger, or the hooded snake. 
 
 What tho' for thee no freighted vessels weigh 
 From Ganges eastward bound to far Cathay, 
 From rich Bahar, and Lanka's* fragrant hiUs 
 Waft the dull opium, and the spicy quills ; 
 And speed in noxious traffic o^er the main 
 Increase of luxury, the public bane j 
 
 * Lanka b the mythological capital of CeyloD, 
 c 3
 
 34 
 
 Tho' at thy call no proud retinue wait^ 
 
 No gorgeous equipage of eastern state ; 
 
 Nor listless apathy thy spirits drowse. 
 
 Nor foul intemperance pour the full carouze ; 
 
 What tho' nor millions heap thy swelling hoard, 
 
 Nor the gemm'd goblet sparkle at thy board. 
 
 Yet purer joys to Pageantry denyM, 
 
 Yet sweet content ill-forfeited to Pride, 
 
 And every bliss, whose homelier sweets combine 
 
 To cheer life's lonely vale, may still be thine ; 
 
 Thine native freedom, peace, and vigourous health, 
 
 And easy competence, for restless wealth : 
 
 These at thy wish a liberal father's store 
 
 Will freely give; Thy temperance needs no more. 
 
 These are the bounds that skirt Life's golden mean 
 Pride soars beyond, but Wisdom rests between ; 
 For these, full many a year of toil and pain 
 Too late reclaim'd. Ambition sighs in vain ; 
 And all her dreams of shadowy joys o'erpast. 
 This solid good confesses at the last.
 
 35 
 
 But thou betimes the moral truth attend. 
 And boldly dare begin where others end. 
 What all by late experience learn to prize. 
 Who first enjoys, is providently wise.
 
 OUR NATIVE SOIL, 
 
 A PARAPHRASED TRANSLATION 
 
 OF A 
 
 LATIN POEM, 
 
 ENTITLED 
 
 " NATALE solum;* 
 
 BY THE LATE 
 
 EDWARD VENABLES VERNON, 
 
 STUDENT OF CHRIST CHURCH, OXFORD, 
 
 WHICH OBTAINED THE CHANCELLOR'S PRIZE AT THAT 
 UNIVERSITY, A. D. 1804. 
 
 DEDICATED BY PERMISSION TO 
 
 HIS GRACE THE ARCHBISHOP OF YORK,
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 I MAY venture with the greater confidence 
 to sohcit your Grace's acceptance of this Dedication^ 
 as the only motive which urges me to present it will 
 necessarily transfer the whole of your attention from 
 myself to an object of the nearest and most natural 
 concern. 
 
 Tiie composition, which is honoured by so flattering 
 an introduction to the public, can advance no stronger 
 title to that distinction, than that it bears testimony 
 to the merits of a beloved and lamented son. 
 
 The affection which I bore, in common with all his 
 cotemporaries, to the regretted author of the Original, 
 first induced me to offer this tribute to his memory.
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 Nowhere could it be dedicated with greater pro- 
 priety than to a Parent whose early instruction and 
 example were, under Providence, the chief source of 
 the many virtues and amiable qualities which conciU- 
 ated and secured that affection. 
 
 By authorizing me to annex the Original Poem, your 
 Grace has supphed the only just criterion by which the 
 comparative merits and defects of the English imitation 
 can be appreciated, and at the same time materially 
 advanced the value of my publication, not only by the 
 benefit of so important an accession, but also by the 
 opportunity which it has afforded me of acknowledging 
 the obligation thus conferred on. 
 
 Your Grace's 
 
 Most respectful and obedient 
 
 Humble Servant, 
 
 E. B. IMPEY.
 
 OUR NATIVE SOIL. 
 
 Vattene in pace alma beata e bella 
 
 Cosi i miei versi avessin/orza, come 
 Ben m'affaticherei con tutta quella 
 Arte che tanto il parlaroma e come, 
 Perche mille e milV anni, e pia novella 
 SeTitisse il mondo del tuo chiaro nome : 
 — Vattene in puce <i la supema sede. 
 
 Whence the fond Passion, whose endearing band 
 
 Links in each chme the native to the land. 
 
 What secret impulse bids his bosom burn 
 
 To guard with arms, with science to adorn. 
 
 With wit to polish, cultivate with toil. 
 
 And live or die devoted to the soil.
 
 42 
 
 I sing. — The source and glory of the song, 
 
 Lamented Vernon, to thy shade belong ; 
 
 'Tis mine in homelier numbers to attire 
 
 Thy thoughts, and strive to emulate their fire : 
 
 Too soon, alas ! ere it had reach'd it's blaze, 
 
 QuenchM was that fire, and wither'd were thy bays ; 
 
 Or ere thy weeping country yet could feel 
 
 Half thy dear loss, unaided by thy zeal. 
 
 Which else had realiz'd that generous rage 
 
 Whose pledge survives recorded on thy page : 
 
 Fate grudg'd the rest. — Peace to thine honour'd urn ! 
 
 Thou to thy task, reluctant Muse, return. 
 
 First of this Truth, howe'er Enthusiasts deem, 
 Be warn'd (and Proofs shall certify the theme) 
 That of her sons whate'er a Nation claims 
 Of love that melts, of interest that inflames. 
 Of pride that stimulates, from Heaven acquires 
 No inborn heat, no preternatural fires ; 
 For what in Man instinctive force we call. 
 Is one gross principle difFus'd thro' all.
 
 48 
 
 Less mark'd in some, but common to the kind, 
 
 And to each stage of hfe ahke assign'd ; 
 
 Not so our Country's love. — Explore it's source — 
 
 In Childhood ere her intellectual force 
 
 The Mind hath yet attain'd, or Reason taught 
 
 Of good or ill to estimate in aught. 
 
 In vain we seek It — No regret detains 
 
 The infant banish'd from his native plains j 
 
 Grant but his nurse, his food, and wonted toys. 
 
 He knows no change, nor feels decrease of joys : 
 
 For Memory still to triyial cares confin'd 
 
 Leaves no severer vestige on his mind ; 
 
 Not as if torn from the parental breast 
 
 Where all his plaints were hush'd, his wants redrest ; 
 
 For Nature then had dictated his woes. 
 
 His Country's love from tardier habit flows. 
 
 And none e'er yet bewail'd a blessing lost 
 
 But measur'd the privation by the cost. 
 
 Here Use Affection's latent source supplies. 
 
 And sways the mind by more than natural ties.
 
 44 
 
 Sweetens of life's sad cup the bitt'rest lees 
 And gives e'en Want ability to please. 
 
 Heed but the proof. — In barbarous realms, that lie 
 Beneath the terrors of a tropic sky. 
 Where the swart star's unmitigable blaze 
 Preys on Mankind, and dwindles half their days, 
 Cayenne's pale tenants as securely boast 
 The sickly product of that feverish coast. 
 As if mild Nature had exhausted there 
 Her choicest stores, and breath'd the sweetest air. 
 
 Whate'er diversities in man are seen 
 Th' effects of clime in temper and in mien. 
 Of this all mortals share an equal dole. 
 On Afric's deserts, as beneath the Pole, 
 Where to the blast Siberia's forests groan. 
 And frosts eternal block the Northern zone. 
 The tracts of Winter — whose unblest domain 
 Ne'er blush'd with fruits, or wav'd with golden grain ;
 
 45 
 
 There nor embower'd in ivy-tangled groves 
 Sad Philomela chants her storied loves ; 
 Nor flowers their breath to panting zephyrs fling. 
 Or weave the many-colour'd robe of Spring ; 
 Nor rich Vertumnus there delights to twine 
 Round the tall elm the purple -cluster'd vine : 
 Yet there contented with his little store. 
 And amply rich in ignorance of more. 
 The fur-clad Savage dwells ; there train'd to toil 
 He claims no tribute of the thrifty soil. 
 But forc'd by hardier exigence for food, 
 ' Roams the bleak mountain and besets the wood. 
 Nor quits the chace, though brooding storms amain 
 Swell the loud gust, and pour the sheeted rain ; 
 With grim delight he eyes the wintry waste. 
 And laughs to mark the havoc of the blast ; 
 'Till housM at length he hails his lowly shed. 
 The frugal diet, and the rushy bed — 
 Blest e'en in Poverty ! for such before 
 His brave forefathers unrepining bore. 
 And such, hke them, his heart exults to own. 
 And prize beyond a palace and a throne.
 
 46 
 
 Nor think the bliss alone we hold most dear, 
 But all our chief regrets are center'd here : 
 For each past blessing leaves a craving void. 
 In due proportion to the sum enjoy'd. 
 Mark the poor Exile — friendless and forlorn. 
 Torn from his home, to distant regions borne 
 Far, far away. Why o'er his faded cheek 
 Rolls the big tear ? and spiritless and weak 
 Life's pulses flutter — with a longing cast 
 His eyes reverted linger to the last. 
 Nor homeward cease, tho* now remote, to roam 
 To the lone threshold, and the widow'd dome ; 
 Whilst the thick sobs, that at his bosom swell, 
 Scarce yield an utt'rance to the last farewell; 
 Say, does he mourn his peril, or disgrace. 
 His forfeit wealth, the ruin of his race? 
 Ah no ! still nearer griefs his soul engross; 
 E'en Honour here 's a secondary loss ! 
 Spoil'd and bereft at one disastrous blow 
 Of all Life's charms (for Use had made them so) 
 Friends, kindred, home — dear hospitable bowers ! 
 Scenes of delight in more propitious hours —
 
 47 
 
 Alas the change ! all lost, abandon'd now— 
 
 This heaves his breast, for this his eyes overflow. 
 
 For this resorting to the lonely shore 
 
 Frequent he listens to the billowy roar. 
 
 Broods o'er his fate, and gazing far, bewails 
 
 The waves that part him from his native vales. 
 
 Or in some close sequestered glade retir'd 
 
 Dreams of past years, and pleasures long expir'd : 
 
 There as in pleasing solace of his pain 
 
 He bids the lute or vocal reed complain, 
 
 If chance a stray note's accidental fall 
 
 Some long-rtmember'd melody recal. 
 
 Some well-known strain that once could charm, before 
 
 His ruthless country spurn'd him from her shore, 
 
 Then bursts the sigh, then tears in torrents roll. 
 
 And grief's insatiate tide o'erwhelms the soul. 
 
 A like emotion, but compar'd to this 
 
 Less strong we feel, of mingled pain and bliss. 
 
 Whene'er those lov'd abodes return to view 
 
 Within whose tutelary walls we grew 
 
 From boy to Man. The sports, the studious shade. 
 
 Streams where we bath'd, and meadows where we stray'd.
 
 48 
 
 Delight us still. So fares his labouring breast, 
 Tortur'd, tho' pleas'd, reliev'd, but still opprest. 
 
 Yet more ; by plainer evidence to shew 
 Not all his cares from cross'd ambition flow. 
 Free from the stings of indigence and shame 
 The rich and prosperous sustain the same ; 
 There are, who self-exil'd unbidden run 
 To distant shores, beneath another sun. 
 And crown'd with fairer auspices explore 
 Thy banks, O Ganges, and thy plains, Mysore. 
 Bent on superfluous gain for this they pine. 
 For this life's best societies resign — 
 Domestic ties, fond friends, a smiling band. 
 And all the free-born blessings of the land : 
 Yet these, tho' fann'd by Fortune's fickle breeze 
 O'erfraught with wealth, and surfeited with ease, 
 Tho' idly grave, or indolently gay. 
 Glides the smooth tenor of their years away, 
 E'en these full oft' in bitterness of mind 
 Sigh for those humbler joys they left behind.
 
 49 
 
 Revolve the past, compare the present scene. 
 And wish too late the change had never been : 
 Oft 'mid the revels of the social board 
 That proudly groans with orient dainties stor'd, 
 A tender thought intrudes — with care opprest. 
 All speechless sits the melancholy guest ; 
 Strives unobserv'd to steal a hidden sigh. 
 And check the tear that glistens at his eye. 
 
 Oft too in dreams unreal forms arise, 
 And scenes long vanish'd from his waking eyes ; 
 The kind associates of his earlier years. 
 His parents bath'd in venerable tears 
 Stretch their fond arms, and feebly seem to say ; 
 " Whither, ah whither vvould'st thou madly stray ? 
 " Ah why for visionary joys forego 
 " Substantial good, and barter bliss for show ? 
 " Why quit the path, that straight to Peace conveys, 
 " To roam in Care's inextricable maze ? 
 Rous'd by grief's counterfeit he wakes to weep. 
 And feels confirm'd the warnings of his sleep, 
 
 D
 
 so 
 
 Then burns with new desire to feed agrain 
 His longing eyes with sights belov'd in vain. — 
 In vain! for ah ! to intercept the scene 
 Huge moiui tains rise, and oceans roll between. 
 
 These truths allow'd, the last remains, to prove 
 The livelier impulse of our Country's love. 
 On foreign sands by winds and billows cast 
 Wide of his course, yet safe in port at last. 
 Say what allures the mariner again 
 To brave the perils of the boisterous main ? 
 Worn with long voyage, and breathless from the seas 
 Here might he rest, here live and die at ease. 
 But that his restless mind, still homeward bent. 
 All comfort spurns, a stranger to content j 
 None but his native cot can these afford : 
 Fir'd at the thought, anon he springs aboard. 
 And with unfitted hull and shatter'd sail 
 Stems the rough surge, and buffets with the gale : 
 What tho' athwart the broad Adantic deep 
 Fierce squalls from equinoctial tempests sweep.
 
 51 
 
 Yet forth he fares, and struggles undismay'd 
 
 Thro' countless toils — and deems those toils o'erpaid. 
 
 When from aloft his eager eye descries 
 
 The first faint land-mark in the distance rise. 
 
 Then to his own lov'd tenement restor'd. 
 
 The busy household, and familiar board. 
 
 From his own hearth he feels the cheering blaze, 
 
 There pleas'd recounts the feats of former days. 
 
 And luU'd to slumber, where no storms molest. 
 
 On his own couch he lays him down to rest. 
 
 Such, all-assuasive Custom, such thy skill 
 Each good to mend, and compensate each ill ; 
 Whence in all states, in ev'ry clime and age 
 Peculiar claims the Patriot's aid engage : 
 For this the Warrior's arm, the Sage's toil. 
 The daily peril, and the midnight oil, 
 By different means conspiring to one end. 
 The public weal embellish and defend. 
 
 Such were the strong incentives that of yore 
 Fir'd the brave race that Rome and Athens bore. 
 
 D 2
 
 52 
 
 Both flourish'd long by native valour stay'd, 
 'Till Patriot Worth with Liberty decay'd. 
 
 O thou with Freedom blest beyond compare. 
 Auspicious Isle, the warlike and the fair. 
 Mother of Arts and Arms, Britannia, say 
 Whence is thy power that bids the world obey ? 
 Whence are thy sons as much for zeal renownM, 
 As thou with fame above all empires crown'd ? 
 Not that to furthest realms thine out-stretch'd hand 
 Jove-like extends the sceptre of command. 
 That with the spoils of many a signal day 
 Half India's provinces the war repay ; 
 That trophies rear'd in naval pride record 
 On ev'ry coast the triumphs of thy sword ; 
 That Gallia's flag revers'd, ignobly waves 
 To flush thy heroes, or adorn their graves ; 
 
 t 
 
 That smiling Commerce every sail expands 
 To waft thee wealth from all the vassal lands. 
 And bids thy Thames in lordly state survey 
 Sole paramount, the tribute that they pay — 
 These are thy glories, matchless Isle, yet these 
 Poor in themselves, collaterally please ;
 
 5S 
 
 For all thy pomp at home, thy fame abroad. 
 Were worthless as the praise when slaves applaud. 
 But that a firmer base thy power sustains, 
 A proud exemption from despotic chains ; 
 That thou, of all the nations, thou alnnp 
 Unaw'd by foreign Laws, rever'st thine own ; 
 That pois'd by Justice and confirm^ by might. 
 Thou guard'st the Subject's and the Monarch's right. 
 Whose just obedience and sage rule evince 
 A free-born People and a generous Prince ; 
 That spite of wars, thine independent reign 
 Internal Peace and Policy maintain. 
 
 NATALE SOLUM. 
 
 Unde hominum sese insinuans per pectora cunctos 
 Ducit amor Patriae, cur banc mirarier unam 
 Hanc colore aguoscant blanda dulcedine capti 
 Hanc studiis ornare ardent, armisque tueri 
 Expediam, ut potero, paucis, causasque docebo.
 
 54 
 
 Illud enim in primis nioneo, et dabit ipsa fideni res, 
 Nequis inexpletum Terrae iiatalis amoreui 
 Affectusq; animi tantos divinitOs ortos 
 Ciedat, et iiigenitos humanis mentibus esse ; 
 Qiiippe quod ingenitum est, id vitae tempore in omni 
 Piodat se indiciis manifestis usque necesse est; 
 At vero quels lidet adbuc puerilior letas, 
 Et nondum maturi habilis vigor ingenii vim 
 Explicuit docuitque vices dignoscere rerura, 
 Non illi, consueta niodo sibi caetera resteut 
 Gaudia, nou illi patriis excedere tlentes 
 Sedibus, aut teneri virgo quasi matre relict^ 
 Concipere inde sclent memori sub niente dolores. 
 Quare non ista haec fieri ratione putandum est. 
 Sed potius qnia consuetudo pectora mulcens 
 Vi tacit^ quadani regit, et praedulcia fingit 
 Omnia, et arcano raentem devincit amore. 
 
 Atque adeo indiciis fas hoc cognoscere certis 
 Est tibi ; nam positas sub iniquo sidere terras 
 Si quis, et immitis semper patientia ctdi 
 Barbara regna colat, uihilo tamen ardet in illis 
 Segnius, et toto haec miratur pectore, quam si 
 Divitias Natura suas profuderat illic 
 Passim, et tioruerant anni ridentis honores :
 
 55 
 
 Quid Libyae memorem semper ferventis arenas, 
 Quid porro regionem illam, qua frigore semper 
 Fama est occludi coelum intractabile, fines 
 Propter Hyperboreos gelidique Carambusis undam ? 
 Illic nee latitans bederas Philomela sub nmbr^ 
 Dulce melos resonat, nee verno tempore tiores 
 Laetifici pingunt, nee odora rosaria terram ; 
 Non olese segetesqj vigent, nee vinea faetu 
 Purpureo, aut redolet pomis felicibus arbor. 
 
 Sed medico assuetus semper patiensq; laborum 
 Incola difficilem vitam colit horridus, inter 
 Terribiles iras aquilonum, et turbine nimbos 
 Crebro incumbeutes, et inhospita flabra procellae. 
 lUe tanien patrio victum de more petitum 
 Exiguosque lares et tecta mapalia cann^, 
 Pauperiemque humilem in consuetis sedibus, ante 
 Auratasque domes, atque ante palatia regum 
 Ponit, et his felix penitus sibi plaudit in agris. 
 Quo magis baud alik credas ab origine nasci 
 Mirandum patriae semper ridentis amorem. 
 
 Porro infelicis mentem saevi unde dolores 
 Exulis exaniment, qu6 tantuiu vulnere corda 
 Percita succumbant, cum jam natalia fletu
 
 Rura miser, charosque lares et limina not'a 
 Linquit, et extremum vix edit denique linguk 
 Deficiente Vale— sedes ciir respicit illas 
 Pallida perfiisus guttis rorantibus ora? 
 Scilicet haud ilium subennda^ infamia poenae 
 Tantiim dura movet; nee saeva pericula terrent, 
 Non agri neque mordet opiim jactura suaruirij 
 Sed qu6d cuncta sibi puncto videt unius horae 
 Mutari, coetus horainum, et consueta locorum, 
 Ruraque quae toties laetus peragravcrat, et quas 
 Longa dies animo notas adjunxerat aedes : 
 Hoc est qu6d gemitus hoc qu6d suspiria surgant. 
 Ergo errans tacitus peregrine in litore tristes 
 Ille sues animo casus, et flebile fatum 
 Usque adeo meditatnr et in deserta recedens 
 Aria, preeteritos lustrat non immenior agros ; 
 Atque ibi vocall nuilcens vel arundine curas, 
 Vel docto citharam pertentans pollice, notura 
 Attigerit si forte melos raemorataque quondam 
 Carmiua (cum pulsus nondum natalibus arvis 
 Esset, et incolumis staret fortuna suorum,) 
 Turn vero lacrymae fluere et concussa moveri 
 Pectora, et exoritur luctQs luiranda cupido. 
 
 Et velut anteacti forsit lustrantibus aevi
 
 57 
 
 Tempora, si quando subeant loca dulcia nobis 
 Quae pueros fovere, atq; in quels lusimus olim 
 Limina, perfusas ilia dulcedine nientes 
 Mixta subit tacito quodam maerore voluptas, 
 Ille suo baud aliter multum indulgere dolori 
 Gaudet, et aeternum pascit sub pectore vulnus. 
 
 Neve feros ideo credas crevisse doloies 
 Quod sibi fracta domfts tantum fortuna labascit, 
 En tibi qui terras alio sub sole jacentes 
 Finibus avecti patriis, melioribus ultro 
 Auspiciis petiere ; vides ut saepe dolorem 
 Corde premaut taciturn, quamvis arrideat illis 
 Usque adeo fortuna favens, placidoque tenore 
 Semper eant miseris imniunes luctibus anni : 
 I, pete quos stimulans amor irrequietus habendi : 
 Impulit, ut Patriam, placidajqj domestica vitae 
 Gaudia posthabeant cupidi, et conquirere summas 
 Enitantur opes, uberrima regna Mysorae 
 Inter, et assiduis sitientes solibus Indos. 
 His tamen bis etiam videas quani saepe recursans 
 Praedulcis PatriaK mentem contristat imago, 
 Quosque reliquerunt sedes mirantur, et alto 
 Multa recordantes secum sub pectore versant. 
 Ergo illis etiam media inter festa, dapesque 
 
 B 3
 
 58 
 
 Ljctificas, turbari auimi, tristiqiie doloies 
 
 Fiotite sedent, tremuloque micant in luniine gutt*. 
 
 Sape etiam in somnis, si vera est fama, lelictas 
 Ante oculos astare domus, astare videntur 
 Caetus aniicorum, et perfusi fletibus ora 
 Sajpius aniplexus blandos inferre parcntes : 
 Audiri et voces — " Heu ! quid speciosa sequendo 
 " Deserere haec properas multum majoris habenda, 
 " Atque per ambages frustra palare, viarum 
 " Inscius, et studio circumvectaris uiani i"' 
 Ast illi somnis miseium trepidare fugatis 
 Continuo, et miio corda accendimtur amore, 
 Antiquas iterum patium convisere sedes, 
 Atque oculos dulci specie saturate suonim — 
 Nequicquam ! quoniam stridens immitibus undi» 
 Distinct Oceanus, tractusq; immanis aquarum. 
 
 Denique jactatus sievuum incumbentibus Euris 
 Navita, cum portns tutos et littora tandem 
 Attigerit peregrina, quibus consistere fessus 
 Et reliquum incolumis vitie decurrere posset, 
 Dei age, quid patriam perstat conquirere ? die quid 
 Tranat Atlantaei fragili rate magna profunda 
 ^quoris, ct quanquam violento turbine venti
 
 59 
 
 Omne salum perflent, pluviis e nubibus atrox 
 Tempestas glomerata ruat, tamen ille rainaci 
 Credere se coelo, pelagisque sonantibus audet ? 
 I>jimirum uoto rursus lequiesceie lecto 
 Dilectosque ardet curain lustrare penates— 
 Hoc pro tot cceli mariumque laboribus unum 
 Expetit, hoc auimo multum praegestit apisci. 
 
 Usque adeo assiduas vis consuetudinis ingens 
 Efficit, ut mirk quadam dulcediue cunctos 
 Ducat amor patriae, penitusq; ardere sub altis 
 Mentibus, et toto domiuari in pectore possit. 
 Ergo etiam et studiis banc exornare laborant 
 Semper, ob banc animas certant efFundere letUo. 
 Sic olim Graiae gentes sic maxima Roma 
 Egregi^ viguere diu virtute suorum. 
 
 At Tu, quanto alias feHx Brittaunia gentes 
 Laudibus exsuperas, tanto magis et tibi proJem 
 Obstrictam ingenti studio et pietate fideli 
 Optima mater, babes : Non, quod maria onmia circum 
 Ingenti premis imperio, qu6d Htore in omni 
 Tot tibi navali surgunt ex aere tropaea ; 
 Non qu6d longinqui domitis a fiuibus orbis 
 Eoas submittat opes tibi discolor Indus
 
 60 
 
 Non tuus ingenti Thamesis quod fluminis und& 
 Convecta extremi excipiat commercia mundi — 
 Sed quod sola tuis servilia vincula natis 
 Demere, qu&d sancto legum moderamine iiosti 
 Imperium validum firmare ; qu6d omnibus aeqnum 
 Cousulis, atque acres populos cum rege potenti 
 Concilias, quod arnica tuis lat^ otia regnis 
 Et dulci instauras sub Libertate quieteni.
 
 THE SYLPHS; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE ROSICRUCIAN ISLAND. 
 
 A DRAMATIC POEM, 
 
 INSCRIBED 
 
 TO THE MEMORY OF A LADY, 
 
 FOn THE AMUSEMENT OF WHOSE FAMILY IT WAS 
 ORIGINALLY COMPOSED.
 
 PREFATORY EPISTLE, 
 
 ADDRESSED 
 
 TO A FRIEND. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 THE following composition, which 
 has already, in manuscript, been favoured with your 
 acceptance, will, I hope, in its enlarged state and 
 typographical dress, preserve it's claim to your ap- 
 probation. 
 
 That approbation indeed it is which has stimulated 
 me to attempt extending to a more numerous class of 
 juvenile readers that mixture of entertainment and
 
 64 
 
 moral instruction which you have deigned to consider 
 as not unserviceable to your family. 
 
 I have been further prompted to this design by an 
 ardent wish to record in some way, the feelings of my 
 gratitude for the encouragement bestowed by your late 
 inestimable lady upon this little drama, which, as it 
 was once in some degree made conducive to the exer- 
 cise of those virtues where she shone unrivalled, may 
 now with peculiar propriety be presented as an offering 
 to her memory. 
 
 That I have had recourse to the dramatic form as a 
 vehicle for pleasure and improvement, is in conformity 
 with the opinions and practice of many great and 
 learned men in all ages, who have judged colloquial 
 writing to be exclusively well adapted to the purposes 
 of education ; and the liberal and enlightened profess- 
 ors of that great national institution, where it is my 
 pride to have passed my earlier years, have alwaj^s 
 admitted it among other means tor advancing the 
 knowledge, and enlarging the intellects of their pupils.
 
 65 
 
 With these examples before me I have felt myself 
 perfectly warranted in the conveyance of moral senti- 
 ments through the medium of Fable ; but my responsi- 
 bihty reaches only in this case to the propriety of 
 execution ; the ground-work of the piece being borrowed, 
 as will at once appear, from the Isola disabitata of Me- 
 tastasio, though with some considerable alterations. 
 
 The merits of this Poem had already called forth the 
 exertions of an English translator, with what success 
 it is not for me to pronounce : but I can with the most 
 rigid adherence to veracity assert, that I owe no obli- 
 gations to his previous performance : and certainly he 
 who can taste and feel the elegant simplicity and 
 enchanting pathos of the Italian original, is under no 
 necessity of consulting its translation. 
 
 I have taken from Metastasio as Metastasio took 
 from Nature ; not.vvith the mere servility of a copyist, 
 but varying, embellishing, or adding to the plot, 
 scenery, and accompaniments, as best suited the par- 
 
 UV ^^ ^-/v
 
 66 
 
 ticular effect I wished to produce. The most material 
 deviation from my author consists in the entire addition 
 of the Lyric Dialogue, which comprehends the ma- 
 chinery and furnishes the Title to my Drama. 
 
 For as I have written principally for the young, I 
 thought it of importance not to reveal the whole play 
 of the more energetic passions, nor too feelingly to an- 
 ticipate those emotions which experience will one day 
 teach them. 
 
 I have, therefore, preferred Supernatural Agency for 
 the developement of my plot, and have by these means 
 the additional advantage of introducing to their notice, 
 or furthering their acquaintance with, the imaginary 
 beings so fancifully represented by Shakspeare, Milton, 
 and Pope. It is an acknowledgment due to the great 
 masters of this style to confess, that whatever is here 
 attempted contains little else than allusions to the idiom 
 and attributes of their aerial creation, and to refer my 
 young readers for more satisfaction to the study of 
 
 ^^/
 
 67 
 
 the Tempest, of Comus, and of the Rape of the 
 Lock. 
 
 The Fairy world has pecuHar attractions for those 
 whose attentions I wish to engage, and the idea of such 
 invisible interferences may lead to better impressions 
 of an over-ruling Providence at a more advanced stage 
 of life. 
 
 In the mean time it excites Wonder, a very powerful 
 agent upon the tender minds of youth ; and by encou- 
 raging questions, leads them on step by step to the 
 acquisition of general knowledge. 
 
 I have, therefore, purposely, and even industriously 
 multiplied my references to classical literature, and the 
 delightful stores of Mythology, of which they will thus 
 acquire a certain tincture almost imperceptibly, and 
 without losing sight of the main interest of the piece. 
 
 Every instance, therefore, of this sort, may be con-
 
 68 
 
 sidered as a lure to their improvement, through the 
 medium of their curiosity. 
 
 On the success with which I may have executed my 
 plan, I presume not to determine : your approbation 
 suffices for my own satisfaction. But I have also other 
 authorities, among- which it is impossible but that I 
 should advert to the assistance I have derived on a late 
 revisal of my little work, from the advice and amenda- 
 tions of a Gentleman whose character in the Republic of 
 letters has been acquired by the most meritorious efforts, 
 whose extensive abilities shrink from no competition 
 with our best modern writers, and whose mature expe- 
 rience enables him to weigh them in the scales of most 
 impartial criticism, Richard Cumberland, Esq. who 
 to the voluntary trouble of superintending and directing 
 the progress of my composition, has added the invalu- 
 able favour of his ])rivate friendship to the author. 
 
 However gratifying might be the success of this 
 little Essay, the literary honour that can attach to such
 
 69 
 
 a trifle is with me but a secondary consideration. My 
 first wish in this instance, is to testify the warmth of 
 my attachment both to hving and departed Worth, by 
 the zeal with which I embrace the opportunity of ex^- 
 hibiting how much I am distinguished by your 
 countenance, and witli what sincerity I subscribe 
 myself. 
 
 Dear sir. 
 
 Your oblisred and affectionate, 
 
 'a 
 
 E. B. IMPEY.
 
 DRAMATIS PERSON jE. 
 
 Alvabo, 
 
 Olivia. 
 
 Julia. 
 
 Ariel. 
 
 Astraphil 
 
 Sylphs. 
 Zephyret 
 
 } 
 
 Chorus of Sylphs. 
 Moors. 
 
 The Action is supposed to pass in an Island inhabited 
 only by Olivia and Julia. 
 
 The Scene represents on one side a Grotto surrounded 
 with plants, and on the other, a large Stone bear- 
 ing an imperfect inscription.
 
 THE SYLPHS. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 SCENE I. 
 
 Ariel, Brilliants, Zephyret, and Chorus of Sylphs, 
 
 ARIEL. 
 
 Guardian sprites, aerial band. 
 Sylphs of this enchanted land. 
 Elbowing her rocky shore 
 Right against the Giant roar. 
 Which from Oronoko's mouth 
 Raves and thunders to the south — ■ 
 Sightless myriads, ye who rule 
 Hill and dale and glassy pool.
 
 72 
 
 Level sands and vaulted caves 
 HoUow'd by the scooping waves. 
 And what else these fairy glades 
 
 Hold embosom'd in their shades • ' 
 
 Say for at your high controul 
 
 Wand'ring stars obedient roll 
 Thro' the trackless void of Night — 
 Have ye read their course aright. 
 Where on blazing tablets wrought, 
 In rays from bright Hyperion caught, 
 The fates of you deserted pair, 
 Register'd and cipher'd are ? 
 Weary days and months and years 
 Spent in unavailing tears. 
 Till the sovereign powers relent — 
 Bitter, bitter banishment ! 
 
 ASTRAPHIL. 
 
 Sol, the planet whose career 
 Measures the revolving year, 
 Twice six circling orbs hath trac'd 
 Round the wide sethereal waste.
 
 73 
 
 Since these rocks, till then unknown, 
 Echo'd first Olivia's moan. 
 Time the destin'd course hath run : 
 Ne'er again yon rising sun 
 From his mid- day path shall wane 
 Sloping to the western main. 
 Ere the compass of their woes 
 Reach the limit, .where they close. 
 
 ARIEL. 
 
 Well thy reck'ning hast thou cast. 
 Still, or ere this day be past. 
 Much important work remains 
 In completion of our pains. 
 
 ZEPHYRET. 
 
 Name the task. 
 
 ASTRAPHIL. 
 
 Whate'er thy will — 
 
 ARIEL. 
 
 Listen Spirits and fulfil. 
 
 Lo! to Libya's torrid realm 
 Points a gallant bark her helm, 
 
 E
 
 74 
 
 Mann'd with pirates, and aboard 
 Vanquish'd by that lawless horde. 
 Many a captive Christian wails — 
 With the rest — Alvaro sails. 
 Which of all my winged train 
 Westward o'er th' Atlantic main 
 With a glancing meteor's force 
 Hither will divert her course ? 
 
 ZEPHVRET. 
 
 Mine are all the winds that fly 
 From each quarter of the sky. 
 Stormy Typhon, at whose roar 
 Rolling surges lash the shore. 
 Staid monsoon, that day and night 
 East to west, his constant flight 
 Half the live-long year doth hold. 
 Hence Etesias nam'd of old — 
 These obsequious to my call 
 Throng the dark ^olian hall : 
 Mounted on their wings I go 
 Swift as Iris on her bow.
 
 75 
 
 Were the course from pole to pole. 
 Clear of every rock and shoal 
 Safe the painted bark should ride 
 Spite of current, gulf, and tide. 
 
 SONG, Zephyret. 
 Like the Lark on airy wing 
 
 I soar and sing. 
 
 Melt in floods of liquid light. 
 
 And fade and dwindle from the sight. 
 
 ARIEL. 
 
 Hie thee hence ; 
 The rest awhile 
 Hover round the magic Isle ; 
 Leagu'd with me, your airy chief. 
 Here to minister relief 
 Some from misty vapours drain 
 Showers that swell the golden gram ;- 
 Some the trickling dews, that gleam 
 In the pale moon's silver beam ; 
 Others quench the shaggy sparks, 
 Scattered as the Dog-star barks, 
 E 2
 
 76 
 
 Ere they scorch the tender shoots. 
 Drink the sap, and parch the roots. 
 Some from Ocean's hidden store 
 Heave the sparkhng gems ashore. 
 Crystal cleap as molten snow. 
 Pearl, and coral's crimson glow ; 
 Or whate'er of costlier stone 
 Drops from Amphitrite's zone ; 
 Some on Earth preside unseen. 
 Haunt the thicket — range the green ; 
 There to mortal sight betray 
 Where abides the wily prey ; 
 Point the shaft — and dip the hook 
 In the lake and rushy brook. 
 
 SONG, Ariel. 
 Sylphs, your offices ye know — 
 Now your flickering pinions ply — 
 Orb in orb, above, below : 
 Follow, follow, where I fly. 
 
 [The Sylphs dance and Exeunt.
 
 77 
 
 SCENE IL 
 
 E?iter Olivia. 
 
 OLIVIA. 
 
 What can all-conquering industry withstand? 
 Rude is this tool, unpractised is my hand ; 
 A surface hard these stubborn rocks afford. 
 Hard as his heart, whose falsehood they record : 
 Yet lo! my labour verges to its end. 
 And O ye pitying powers, my wish befriend — 
 Grant me but life — I ask no longer date — 
 To close this work, then speed my welcome fate. 
 And should some wanderer from his native home 
 E'er to this wild unpeopled region roam. 
 This poor but faithful monument shall tell 
 How long I languish'd, how unjustly fell. 
 
 \_She approaches and reads the inscription. 
 " By false Alvaro on this coast expos'd, 
 " Her wretched days here lost Olivia clos'd. 
 " Stranger, if chance direct thee to this tomb, 
 " Pity, but seek not to avenge" (my doom)
 
 19 
 
 'Tis well — but two short syllables remain 
 In plaintive cadence to complete the strain. 
 Now to my task 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Olivia, Julia, 
 
 JULIA, hastily. 
 Oh had I wings to fly ! 
 
 OLIVIA. 
 
 Say whence the joy that sparkles in thine eye ? 
 What hope of rescue ? 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Scarce herself for glee 
 Thy Julia comes to share her bliss with thee. 
 
 OLIVIA. 
 
 What bliss, alas ! can o'er my cares prevail ? 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Nay, mother, would'st thou listen to my tale—
 
 79 
 
 OLIVIA. 
 
 Thy pardon 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Sure thou hast observed erewhile 
 The ceaseless object of my weary toil : 
 Lost in these woods, the fav'rite fawn I bred 
 Long have I trac'd in vain — and wail'd as dead ; 
 But as this morn betimes I chanc'd to cross 
 Yon tangled glen, still pondering on my loss. 
 Aside I turn'd, and there my Sylvio found 
 Fast by his antlers to the thicket bound : 
 I chid the little vagrant for his flight. 
 Then hither hasted breathless with delight. 
 But thou art mute. 
 
 OLIVIA. 
 
 E'en trifles light as these 
 Can raise a transport in the mind at ease. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Seems it a trifle to have thus restor'd 
 My constant care, the partner of my board ? 
 Pleas'd at my side he skipp'd in wanton play. 
 Fed from my hand and on my bosom lay :
 
 80 
 
 A tender nursling by my bounty rear'd. 
 Whose artless gaiety my fancy cheer'd ; 
 A lost companion to my arms return'd— 
 Is this a trifle worthy to be spurn'd ? 
 
 OLIVIA. 
 
 Heav'n guard thy innocence ! 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 O rather pray 
 The pitying saints thy torments to allay. 
 What ! must those eyes with tears for ever stream. 
 That tongue still dwell on sorrow's melting theme ? 
 Be comforted. 
 
 OLIVIA. 
 
 Ah ! whence should comfort spring ? 
 Ten times the tedious hours on lazy wing 
 Their annual orb have fill'd, and twice again 
 Trac'd the broad compass of the starry plain 
 From goal to goal, since that disastrous day. 
 When first abandoned to a traitor's sway 
 A living grave I found — here hopeless left, 
 <^f all life's genial intercourse bereft,
 
 &1 
 
 Friends, kindred, home, of all but thee, my child, 
 By whose assuasive tongue tho' oft beguil'd 
 My sorrows pause, yet doubly they return 
 When added to my own thy wants I mourn. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Alas ! what wants ? survey this fruitful plain ; 
 This laughing Isle, the loveliest of the main: 
 Queen of whate'er this little empire yields. 
 O'er every beast, that crops the flow'ry fields. 
 Thy sovereign power extends — thy subjects they, 
 And all the feathered tribe thy rule obey : 
 No force nor tyrant laws thy will withstand. 
 Nor curb thy free dominion o'er the Land, 
 T"or thee the mellowing clime unbidden show'rs 
 The fruits of Autumn, and the vernal flowers ; 
 These plants in Summer yield delicious shade. 
 These caves a ro^f, when wintry storms invadei 
 Earth, Ocean, Air, contribute to thy store ; 
 What can thy boundless wish solicit more ? 
 
 OLIVIA. 
 
 Ah me ! thy bosom feels no craving void. 
 No taste for pleasures, never yet enjoy'd;^ 
 
 e3
 
 82 
 
 For know, thy cruel sire had fled the shore. 
 When thee, sad native of this isle, I bore : 
 Poor babe ! I rang'd the forest for thy food, 
 Lap'd in soft flowers, and cradled in the wood j 
 Hence no regretted sweets thy fancy warm. 
 But all thy wishes to this state conform : 
 "Whilst, ah ! 'tis mine for ever to contrast 
 With present ills the blessings that are past. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Yes, oft I hear thy partial voice deplore 
 The lost delights of Europe's happier shore. 
 Her wisdom, wealth, pre-eminence in arms — 
 To me far dearer more congenial charms 
 These unmolested solitudes bestow. 
 
 OLIVIA, 
 
 Of bliss unfelt the price thou ne'er canst know. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Yet in those vaunted climes what fears perplex 
 Where men abound, the terror of our sex ! 
 Oft on their falsehood have I heard thee dwell. 
 
 OLIVIA. 
 
 O far more false they are than tongue can tell.
 
 .83 
 
 Fierce, unrelenting-, treach'rous, and unkind. 
 Whom neither prayers can melt nor duly bind. 
 Nor faith, nor friendship in their breast resides. 
 Nor love, that all things vanquishes besides. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Of them at least no dread pursues usTiere, 
 But, ah ! thou weep'st afresh — that starting tear, 
 Those heaving sobs my forward zeal reprove. 
 Could aught suffice in earnest of my love — 
 Ask what thou wilt, command whate'er is mine ; 
 Dry but those tears, and Sylvio shall be thine. 
 
 OLIVIA. 
 
 Cease, Julia, cease ; could aught assuage my pain. 
 Thy winning accents should not plead in vain. 
 But this sad bosom bears a lasting trace 
 Of wrongs which no condolence can efface ; 
 Forbear the task — I would not seek relief 
 By spreading the contagion of my grief: 
 Thy wonted mirth resume ; thy smiles repair. 
 Nurse thou these bovvers, and tend thy favourite care. 
 Let cheerful toil thy loneliness atone : 
 I go to weep unheeded and alone.
 
 B4 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Strange, that no limits should her grief confine '• 
 
 Oft I entreat, remonstrate, and repine. 
 
 Sooth and caress — but all without avail 
 
 Fruitless alike my varied efforts fail. 
 
 Nay, oft increas'd affliction they renew. 
 
 And in her eyes awake the pearly dew ; 
 
 Till mine the feeble converts of her woe 
 
 Touch'd with congenial tenderness o'erflow. 
 
 Aid her ye saints ! meanwhile be mine the care 
 
 Each needful toil contentedly to bear, 
 
 To,pluck from clustering boughs the luscious food. 
 
 Troll the clear current, and beset the wood. 
 
 To draw fresh water at the gushing well ; 
 
 Then pen my flock or trim our leafy cell. 
 
 But first, (for 'tis enjoin'd me to descry 
 
 If aught in prospect of relief be nigh.) 
 
 Once more I'll mount yon clifFs projecting side 
 
 Whose top for many a league o'erlooks the tide :
 
 85 
 
 What tho' my straining eyes full oft; have trac'd 
 In fruitless search th' immeasurable waste ; 
 Tho' oft with prayers I've woo'd the sullen deep. 
 And ling-er'd long, and late return'd to weep ; 
 Yet Hope by disappointment ne'er subdued 
 Still haunts the devious path in vain pursu'd. 
 
 [Exit.
 
 86 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 SCENE I. 
 
 Chorus of Si/lphn. 
 
 W^HO from Ocean's wat'ry plain 
 Hither steers his course amain ? 
 Now in circling eddies whirl'd. 
 With his floating robe unfiirl'd. 
 Now on even pinions buoy'd. 
 See he cleaves th' ethereal void. 
 Sylphs, 'tis he — I know his flight ; 
 Eyes that glisten with delight, 
 Smiles that dimple on his cheek. 
 Force an audience ere he speak.
 
 87 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Enter Zephyret. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Welcome brother Spirit — hail ! 
 Bearer of a joyful tale. 
 
 ZEPHYRET. 
 
 From beneath the burning zone 
 Like a comet have I flown. 
 All is done, and not a jot 
 Of my special charge forgot. 
 
 SONG, Zephi/ret. 
 
 I. 
 
 merry, merry, merry's the race that I run. 
 
 More swift than a beam from the tropical sun 
 
 1 perchM on the mound 
 Of Old Atlas, and found 
 
 The world on his shoulders go giddily round. 
 
 II. 
 
 Then I dive like Orion, and rising like Mars, 
 
 Newly dipp'd in the Ocean outrival the stars.
 
 88 
 
 While mortals protest. 
 As I blaze in the west, 
 'Tis a comet, predicting war, famine, and pest. 
 
 ARIEL. 
 
 Bravely said. — Thy tale pursue 
 
 Where's the ship, and what the crew ? 
 
 ZEPHYRET. 
 
 Into yonder sheltering cove 
 Straight the gallant bark I drove. 
 Where she rides securely moor'd. 
 With the Christian slaves aboard. 
 All save one. 
 
 ARIEL. 
 
 Be brief, relate 
 
 What imports Alvaro's fate. 
 
 ZEPHYRET. 
 
 In yon boat he steers ashore. " 
 
 ASTRAPHIL. 
 
 Free or captive to the Moor ? 
 
 ZEPHYRET. 
 
 As a hostage, held in ward. 
 By a strong and wary guard,
 
 89 
 
 Yet conspiring to re-gain 
 Freedom lost. 
 
 AKIEL. 
 
 Is all in train r 
 Are the Christians sworn to aid ? 
 
 ZEPHYKET. 
 
 Long ere now the plot was laid j 
 They th' unguarded ship subdue. 
 Ere returns the parted crew. 
 
 ASTRAPHIL. 
 
 How then shall Alvaro, say. 
 Learn the fortune of the fray ? 
 
 ZEPHYRET. 
 
 He th' eventful signal waits 
 From his bold confederates. 
 
 ARIEL. 
 
 Vain were all the powers of man. 
 Did not heaven assist the plan. 
 Well ye know, my Sylphs, 'twas I 
 Rais'd this quaint conspiracy. 
 For each human thought we guide. 
 We o'er all their acts preside.
 
 9(J 
 
 Which the bhnd misjudging tribe 
 Falsely to themselves ascribe. 
 Haste (we) then — let all attend 
 Our unfashioned plot to mend. 
 First the Moors, who near at hand 
 With Alvaro sail to land, 
 (Haply bound to yonder rill. 
 There their gurgling jars to fill) 
 These disperse about the coast — 
 
 Seize the boat — or all is lost. 
 
 To this end your forms ye must 
 
 Mould to shapes of earthly dust ; 
 
 Or in airy phantoms rise — 
 
 Scare their ears, and charm their eyes ; 
 
 Harpies here — Chimaeras there — 
 
 Then like grim Medusa stare — 
 
 Next entice with Lamia's spell. 
 
 Or as whelping Scylla yell; 
 
 Then with notes of softer fall 
 
 Straight the melting soul enthrall ; 
 
 Such as tuneful Mermaids pour. 
 
 Or Arion's lute of yore.
 
 91 
 
 When he cahn'd the halcyon tide 
 
 On the Dolphin's back astride. 
 
 Away — away — myself with potent charms 
 
 Will guide Alvaro to Olivia's arms. 
 
 lExeunt. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Distraction ! terror ! whither shall I fly ? 
 How trust the doubtful witness of my eye ? 
 Lo ! there ! methinks amid the billowy roar 
 A sea-born monster journeys to the shore ; 
 With wings out-spread, that catch the wafting breeze. 
 At once it flies and swims across the seas. — 
 Nearer it comes — while dash'd from either side 
 Leaps the white surge, and foams the ruffled tide. 
 What is't ? — How now ? — What forms are these at hand • 
 Lo ! how they crowd, and press upon the strand! 
 Soft — they disperse — but one among the train 
 Draws near apace j I tremble to remain.
 
 92 
 
 Yet have no force to fly — this friendly grove 
 Shall yield me shelter. 
 
 (She conceals herself.) 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 ALVARO. 
 
 Whither do I rove ? 
 To what new climes by restless fortune borne. 
 For ever doom'd to wander and to mourn ? 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 A human voice — if right the sound I caught 
 Sure 'tis a man's — I shudder at the thought— 
 But hark again — 
 
 ALVARO. 
 
 Go — lost Alvaro, go- 
 None heed thy grief — 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 It is the voice of woe- 
 How sweetly plaintive !
 
 93 
 
 alvaro. 
 Yet wliat matters where ? 
 No tender spouse my liberty to share; 
 Bereft of her— why labour to be free. 
 Since life itself ^s a slavery to me ? 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 See how he weeps ! the winds disperse his words; 
 But with his tears my melting soul accords. 
 Soft ! I'll approach— Ah what a goodly mien ! 
 If such are men, how injur'd have they been ! 
 How much belied ! 
 
 ALVARO. 
 
 Yet— yet forbear my fears- 
 One ray of hope the gloomy prospect cheers- 
 Be freedom mine, yon vessel next I gain. 
 Each coast survey, and traverse all the main. 
 Search every sea-girt isle from shore to shore. 
 Fate, tho' she lingers, may my loss restore.' 
 Then will her smiles my banishment atone. 
 Dry every tear, and recompense each groan.
 
 94 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 What new-born transport in my bosom creeps, 
 Joy when he smiles, and anguish when he weeps. 
 
 MOORS (from behind.) 
 Ho ! Christian, ho ! 
 
 ALVARO. 
 
 The Moors ! I must obey — 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 How now ? he starts, 
 
 ALVARO. 
 
 What's this that thwarts my way ? 
 My native characters ! what is't I view ? 
 
 (Sees the insa-iption.) 
 My name engrav'd, ah me ! OUvia's too ! 
 
 (Reads.) 
 " By false Alvaro on this coast expos'd 
 " Her wretched days here lost Olivia clos'd" — 
 Oh ! my foreboding heart ! this fatal shore. 
 This was the place — from hence the Ruffians bore 
 Her captive spouse, all guiltless of her grief. 
 She thought me false — she died in that belief.
 
 95 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 What can this mean ? his eyes distracted pore 
 On yon sad marble — 
 
 ALVARO. 
 
 Hold ! here's something more, 
 (Reads.) 
 
 " Stranger ! if chance direct thee to this tomb, 
 
 " Pity, but seek not to revenge " 
 
 Death froze her hand, and stopp'd th' imperfect strains. 
 Here let me lie^ where rest her dear remains. 
 
 (Throws hirtiself on the ground.) 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 I can no more refrain — my fears give way. 
 Zeal drives me on — I tremble and obey. 
 
 (She comes forward.) 
 Stranger arise, behold assistance nigh. 
 
 ALVARO. 
 
 Whoe'er thou art, in quiet let me die. 
 Here will I grow, nor quit this fatal stone. 
 Till thou and I, Olivia, shall be one. 
 Moor ! I revolt — thy fetters I disdain—
 
 96 
 
 Aftection rivets me — and here's her claim. 
 
 Olivia — lost Olivia ! (Embracing the marble.) 
 
 Sooftbewail'd? 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Why that name 
 
 ALVARO. 
 
 For ever shall the same 
 
 Dwell on these lips. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Spurn not my proflfer'd aid. 
 No Moor accosts thee, but a simple maid. 
 
 ALVARO, Cdiscovering Julia.) 
 Ha ! what art thou ? belike some guardian power 
 
 Prophetic warner of my destined hour ? 
 
 Speak then the future — thou must know the past. 
 
 May death-dissever'd souls unite at last ? 
 
 Olivia — breathes she ? may I find her ? tell — 
 
 Lifeless — or lost — I bid the world farewel. 
 
 Her doom be mine ! to perish or survive, 
 
 I wait thy word — 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Heav'n guard her long alive.
 
 m 
 
 ALVABTO. 
 
 Alive ! is't possible ? — that word again — 
 That little word repairs an age of pain — '■ 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Know then she lives — if living death be life. 
 Not half herself — a lost deserted wife. 
 
 ALVARO. 
 
 She lives, she lives !■ O speed me .to her sight — 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Why throbs my pulse ? Ah ! whence this new delight ? 
 
 ALVARO. 
 
 Nay, tarry not — 'tis torture to delay. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 My heart misgives me — wond'rous stranger, say 
 Who art thou ? Speak. 
 
 ALVARO. 
 
 A wanderer forlorn, 
 A wretched man, a prey to Fortune's scorn. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Out — out, alas ! art thou a man indeed ? 
 A very man ? best fly 
 
 ALVARO. 
 
 Alas ! what need ?
 
 98 
 
 JULIA. '■ 
 
 Yet will I trust thee too.~Tho' men I know 
 Are fierce and treach'rous — sure thou art not so ! 
 Thy name? 
 
 ALVABO. 
 
 Alvaro. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 More detested none — 
 Oft by my mother curs'd — and yet 'tis one 
 Methinks I love — 
 
 ALVARO. 
 
 Thy mother didst thou say r 
 Till now distraction led my thoughts astray. 
 Else had I crav'd thy name — 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 'Tis Juha. 
 
 ALVARO. 
 
 True — 
 It should be so — ^how like Olivia too ! 
 One question more — Hast thou beheld ere now. 
 Or known thy sire ? 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 'Tis thou, Alvaro — thou — (She embraces him. J
 
 99 
 
 ALVAHO. 
 
 My child ! my child ! thy father was most true. 
 
 JOLIA^ 
 
 I need no witness. 
 
 ALVARO. 
 
 Would Olivia knew ! 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 I fly to seek her, yet, alas ! I grieve 
 A tender sire so late restor'd to leave. 
 
 ALVABO. 
 
 Haste, haste, my child ! 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 How hard to say farewell ! 
 
 ALVARO. 
 
 We'll meet anon — here in this rocky cell 
 
 I wait thy coming. [Exit Julia. 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 ALVARO, (musing.) 
 
 'Tis Olivia's grot. 
 How memory roves o'er objects half forgot ! 
 
 f2
 
 100 
 
 Here in this cave, aye here Olivia lay 
 
 Wrapt in soft slumbers, on that fatal day. 
 
 When to this isle we came : off yonder creek 
 
 Our vessel rode— .by storms compelPd to seek 
 
 This nearest shelter — luckless stars ! 'twas then 
 
 I left her all unguarded ; to yon glen 
 
 In search of fruits I wander' d — lo ! the place 
 
 Where I was first assail'd — and now I trace 
 
 Where dropp'd my sword — faint, wounded, and forlorn. 
 
 Then far from thee, Olivia, was I borne. 
 
 Bitter remembrance ! Peace, my stormy breast ! 
 
 'Twere ffood awhile within this cave to rest, 
 
 Lest the Moors trace me — Ha ! this way they bend. 
 
 The wood's beset. — Now Heav'n my flight befriend. 
 
 lExii, into the cave.
 
 ACT III. 
 
 SCENE I. 
 
 ALVARO. 
 
 Oh ! ^tis too much — I sicken with suspense. 
 Approaching raptures paralyze their sense. 
 Wild with impatience — still I dread to meet 
 Her first approach — How my heart-pulses beat ! 
 Hark — I hear steps — not yet — revil'd! abus'd ! 
 Ah ! next to guilt 'tis death to be accus'd — 
 
 Enter Ariel alone, beckoning ivith his wand. 
 
 SONG, Ariel. 
 I. 
 If aught could in absence atone 
 The loss that ye mutually mourn, 
 'Tis the mem'ry of joys that are flown, 
 The hope that they still may return.
 
 103 
 
 II. 
 
 But when hope is o'er-clouded with fear 
 And remembrance awakens regret. 
 When the future excites but a tear. 
 And the past it were bUss to forget, 
 
 III. 
 
 What then shall in absence reprove 
 
 Each doubt, and each murmur atone ? 
 
 'Tis the faith ye repose in your love, 
 
 The belief that ye weep not alone. lExit Ariel. 
 
 AXVARO. 
 
 Methought a voice — Haste ! let me gain the cave. 
 Perchance the Moors 
 
 SCENE XL 
 
 OLIVIA. 
 
 All things their period have. 
 The forest rots — stones moulder to decay — 
 Streams quit their channels — shores are wash'd away.
 
 103 
 
 Not so my cares — no lenient change they know, 
 'Tis all a blank monotony of woe. 
 Time, that o'er others speeds in swift career. 
 To me stands motionless ; my days appear 
 A neutral being, which the struggling breath 
 Owes less to life than to protracted death — 
 Which, but for thee, my child—— 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 ALVARO. 
 
 Vain fears away — 
 
 Tis she. 
 
 OLIVIA. 
 
 Amazement ! 
 
 ALVARO. 
 
 Stay, Olivia, stay. 
 
 OLIVIA. 
 
 That air, that voice, I cannot err.
 
 104 
 
 ALVARO. 
 
 'Tis I— 
 Alvaro calls. 
 
 OLIVIA. 
 
 Hence, wretch ! alas ! I die. (She faints.) 
 
 ALVARO. 
 
 Olivia, wake, my love ! ray wife ! I rave 
 In vain, she hears not — How ? no aid to save ? 
 Yonder I mark'd a brook, this way it lies — 
 What, leave her thus ? One moment will suffice. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 Chorus of Sylphs. Olivia. 
 
 ARIEL. 
 
 Sylphs approach, your charms prepare. 
 Earth, and Ocean, Fire, and Air, 
 Cite each element by name. 
 Or to fan the vital flame.
 
 105 
 
 Or to roll the stagnant juice 
 From the heart it's crimson sluice. 
 
 ASTRAPHIL. 
 
 In this adamantine cruise 
 Flash the many-mingled dews ; 
 Some from Aganippe's source. 
 Where the fiery feather'd horse 
 Lav'd his sides and brawny chest; 
 These came trickling from his crest. 
 These of bright nectareous hue 
 Fresh from Hebe's cup I drew ; 
 Which like orient pearls I shower. 
 With a spell of magic power. 
 Soft distilling drop by drop 
 On her lip and eye-lid top. 
 Till her eyes 
 Like April skies 
 After sun-set cease to lower. 
 
 ZEPHYRET. 
 
 Fiery sparks that light the soul. 
 Such as once Prometheus stole ; 
 f3
 
 106 
 
 Plumes, that strew'd the spicy nest 
 Which the dying Phoenix prest ; 
 These I wave, and those I dart 
 Thro* the portals of her heart ; 
 Fruits that vegetate in ore 
 On the biest Hesperian shore. 
 With the never-fading flowers 
 Hard by Saturn's crystal towers, 
 Amaranthus, and the bell 
 Of the golden Asphodel, 
 
 Now I crush, 
 
 Till a blush 
 Kindles at the balmy smell. 
 
 AIUEI.. 
 
 Hold — ye do nothing with your charms. 
 Weak preservatives from harms — 
 In herself she hath a power 
 To withstand the torturing hour — 
 Conscience — to the good a cure. 
 Poison to the mind impure :
 
 107 
 
 Taintless conscience, seraph-tongued 
 In behalf of virtue wrong'd. 
 Like the sweet Threician shell, 
 Triumphs at the verge of Hell ; 
 Such is her supreme controul. 
 
 Mark ! I hear. 
 
 She warbles clear. 
 Whispering comfort to the soul. 
 
 SONG, Ariel. 
 O Lady dear — awake — arise. 
 All thy weary cares are past ; 
 See ! to bliss thy longing eyes. 
 Thy lov'd Lord returns at last. 
 He shall teach thee soon to know 
 How the bliss exceeds the woe : 
 For thy lost Alvaro's sake 
 Lady dear, arise — awake.
 
 108 
 SCENE V. 
 
 Olivia, Julia. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 'Tis strange ! I met my father as I pass'd — 
 
 Breathless he was, and hurried on so fast 
 
 'Twas bootless to pursue — Such head-long speed -^ 
 
 Bespeaks the pressure of immediate need, v 
 
 Some danger dreaded, or some guilty deed. J 
 
 What would my fears suggest ? A busy train 
 
 Of vague suspicions rush upon my brain. 
 
 Heaven grant them false. Ha ! what a sight is here, 
 
 A lifeless corse !— prophetic was my fear. 
 
 This, this unravels all — O cruel sire. 
 
 And hast thou thus achiev'd thy fell desire ? 
 
 But wherefore fly ? — return — thy work pursue. 
 
 And glut thy vengeance on thy daughter too. 
 
 Both sinn'd alike, for both alike relied 
 
 On thy dissembled love. For this she died 
 
 Pure, spotless saint !
 
 109 
 
 OLIVIA, (reviving.) 
 Stay, faithless Phantom, stay. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Methought she spoke. 
 
 OLIVIA. 
 
 It melts — it flits away — 
 No vestige left. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 She lives ! Her powers restore. 
 Sweet Heav'n ! 
 
 0LIVI.1. 
 
 Return, or let me wake no more. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Nay, prythee cheer. 
 
 OLIVIA. 
 
 It was the charm of sleep. 
 Oft have I dream'd the like, and wak'd to weep. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Nay, 'twas no dream. 
 
 OLIVIA. 
 
 How ! didst thou mark the sight ? 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Too plain, alas!
 
 110 
 
 OLIVIA. 
 
 I fainted with affright. 
 Where is he now ? 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Ah ! mother, fled again — 
 
 OLIVIA. 
 
 Impossible. — 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 I saw him speed amain. 
 
 OLIVIA. 
 
 I'll not believe — Thou know'st him not, my child ; 
 I mean Alvaro. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 What ! the' once beguil'd. 
 Canst thou still trust him ? Oh, he was untrue ! 
 Thou said'st so once — now I believe it too. 
 Wretch! traitor! fiend! 
 
 OLIVIA. 
 
 Forbear — it cannot be. 
 He but delays. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 I learnM to rail of thee. 
 
 (A clashing of swords.)
 
 Ill 
 
 ALVARO, (from behind.) 
 Yield thee, proud Moor — nay, struggle not. 
 
 OLIVIA. 
 
 What noise ? 
 
 ALVARO, (from behind.) 
 I've wrench'd thy sabre. 
 
 OLIVIA. 
 
 'Twas Alvaro's voice. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Hark ! hark again! 
 
 MOon, (from behind.) 
 
 Hold, hold— I fall— I bleed— 
 
 ALVARO, (from behind.) 
 Thou would'st not yield, I'm guiltless of the deed. 
 
 OLIVIA. 
 
 Alvaro bleeds — no hope of rescue nigh. 
 
 JULlA. 
 
 List — what strange sounds. 
 
 OLIVIA. 
 
 Behold ! they fly — they fly. (Music.) 
 
 SYLPHS, (from behind, singing.) 
 Hasson — Muly — Saddy — stay — 
 
 Hither? whither? hence away. — 
 
 (Several Moors cross the stage, making wild gestures, 
 
 and exeunt.)
 
 112 
 
 ARIEL, (crossing.) 
 All is well — the plot's achieved— 
 Pokl Alvaro — thou'rt reliev'd — 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 Olivia, Julia, Alvaro. 
 
 OLIVIA. 
 
 He comes, he comes. 
 
 ALVARO. 
 
 Kind Heav'n my bliss restores. 
 
 (They embrace. J 
 
 OLIVIA. 
 
 What's here ? 'tis blood. 
 
 ALVARO. 
 
 Nay, fear not — 'tis the Moor's. 
 Joy choaks my voice. 
 
 OLIVIA. 
 
 Sure 'tis to grief allied. 
 Both in extremes are mute and vvat'ry eyed.
 
 H 
 
 ^ 
 
 Yes, all my sufferings past are nought to this. 
 Bitter return of intermitted bliss. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 How if yon men ? 
 
 ALVARO. 
 
 Fear not, they're fled or slam. 
 
 OLIVIA. 
 
 So long withheld— so nearly lost again ! 
 Oh ! my hard heart— how much was I deceived ! 
 I call'd thee false— I thought myself aggriev'd. 
 Canst thou forgive Alvaro? 
 
 ALVARO. 
 
 Pardon thee.' 
 Thy fears were truth, thy chiding love for me. 
 
 JULIA, (kneeling.) 
 Father, forgive me too— I too revil'd— 
 
 ALVARO. 
 
 I do, I do, Heav'n's blessing on my child ! 
 
 (A signal fired fro7n the ship.) 
 Come, we waste words— that signal from aboard. 
 Olivia, speaks my liberty restor'd.
 
 114 
 
 OLIVIA. 
 
 Ah ! my heart bleeds for all thy mis'ries past. 
 
 ALVARO. 
 
 Twelve years of slavery — but repaid at last. 
 Amply repaid. — No more — suffice to say. 
 Force, that now brings me hither, tore away 
 Thine husband from thy arms — what else befel 
 At Tunis, Fez, Algiers, I leave to tell 
 At more convenient leisure, for, behold ! 
 A second summons — Yon fair flag unroU'd 
 Invites us hence, and see ! a fav'ring gale 
 Springs from the shore, and strikes the flapping sail. 
 
 JULIA. 
 
 Father, lead on — 
 
 ALVARO. 
 
 Secur'd in yonder cove. 
 The pinnace waits — It wafts to Joy and Love. 
 
 OLIVIA. 
 
 With such delight the fainting trav'Uer hears 
 Fresh springing fountains murmur in his ears ; 
 Near and more near he views the waters burst. 
 And breathless runs, to quench his aching thirst. [Ex\
 
 il5 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 
 Chorus of Sylphs. 
 
 STROPHE. 
 
 Sea-born gales that gently sweep 
 
 O'er the broad Atlantic deep. 
 
 Rifling fragrance, as ye rove 
 
 From the myrrh and citron grove. 
 
 From the manioc and the maze. 
 
 And Anana's burnish'd blaze — 
 
 Haste, the swelling sails expand— 
 
 Waft them to their native land : 
 
 There, where Tagus proudly rolls 
 
 O'er his gold-bespangled shoals. 
 
 See she weighs — she tacks — she veers — 
 
 Eastward as the pilot steers. 
 
 Mortals farewell — nor Heav'n's high Will arraign. 
 
 Which but ordain'd a trial in your pain. 
 
 ANTISTROPHE. 
 
 Yes, 'tis our's to yield the meed 
 To victorious worth decreed j
 
 lid 
 
 Worth, that, all her ordeals past. 
 Ever triumphs at the last : 
 E'en tho' Fate protract the doom 
 Past the limits of the tomb. 
 Sylphs, 'tis done — we mount — we fly. 
 Airy tenants of the sky — 
 Hence afar a better home 
 Smiles in Kingston's happy dome. 
 There we'll tend a virtuous pair. 
 Valiant sons and daughters fair, 
 A matchless throng of gay benignant elves. 
 With kindred hearts as spotless as ourselves. 
 
 EPODE. 
 
 There beneath their feet we'll strew 
 Flow'rs that never cease to blow. 
 Such as sweetest breath dispense 
 Of uncanker'd innocence. 
 There shall blush the richest bloom. 
 Wrought in young Hygeia's loom : 
 There shall nature's power impart, 
 Heighten'd by the touch of art,
 
 117 
 
 Whatsoe'er of magic grace. 
 Thought can reach, or pencil trace. 
 Music there in choicest Measures 
 Still shall breathe convivial pleasures. 
 And filial love, and fond parental care. 
 Source of domestic bliss, shall harbour there.
 
 BAUCIS AND PHILEMON, 
 
 A BURLETTA. 
 
 Mille domos clausere serce ; tamen una recepit 
 Porta quidem. 
 
 Ovid. Metamorph. lib. viii. 1. 629. 
 
 Though every Stage debar access, 
 No Manager can bolt the Press.
 
 DRAMATIS PERSON jE. 
 
 <^JHi(MPEtlf:»'fi^Vv 
 
 Mercury, ' - .- • - vu-ii^ , 
 
 Neptune, ' ^f* .'■'= *^- " ■ 
 
 Chorus of Winds, " 
 
 Philemon, 
 
 Philander, a Naval Commander, in love with Phoebe. 
 
 Plutus, a Country Banker. 
 
 Thyrsis, a Clown pretending to Phoebe. 
 
 UcALECON Orion, an Irish Footman. 
 
 Lady Pandora, wife to Plutus. 
 
 Baucis. 
 
 Phoebe, daughter to Baucis and Philemon. 
 
 Myrtilla, Lady's-maid, in love with 7'hyrsis. 
 
 Countrymen, Bailiffs, and Clerks, attending on Plutus. 
 
 The Scene lies in a Borough Town on the Sea-Coast.
 
 BAUCIS AND PHILEMON. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 SCENE I. 
 
 The Curtain rising, discovers the Sea in a Storm, and a 
 Ship firing Signals of Distress. The Winds arrayed like 
 Sansadottes, sing a Fugue adapted to Wind-Instnimenfs, 
 with Accompaniments to imitate a Squall. 
 
 CHORUS. Air—" Ah f qa ira." 
 
 Blow bully, blow bully, blow bully, blow. 
 
 Now we^re free from bonds and fetters. 
 Blow bully, blow bully, blow bully, blow 
 
 Round about, above, below.
 
 122 
 
 What care we for friend or foe r 
 Rich or poor, or high or low ? 
 
 Blow bully, blow bully, blow bully, blow. 
 Writs of Arrest and Bow-Street setters. 
 Judge and Jury we'll overthrow. 
 
 Blow bully, blow bully, blow bully, blow. 
 
 Though Daddy Neptune strut and crow. 
 We'll let the lousy lubber know. 
 How he ought to treat his betters : 
 He to a goose can scarce say Bo ! 
 
 Blow bully, blow bully, blow bully, blow. 
 Jove's our Hector, our protector. 
 
 Blow bully, blow bully, blow bully, blow. 
 Duck him, souse ! from top to toe. 
 
 Enter Neptune. 
 SONG, Neptune. Air — Handel's Water-piece, 
 
 Begone, decamp, 
 Winds dry or damp. 
 Get home dogs, tramp. 
 Or I'll your pinions cramp :
 
 1'23 
 
 Who's he so stout 
 To face me out ? 
 My power d'ye doubt 
 Your squadrons all to rout ? 
 North, East, South, West 
 Sneak off you'd best ; 
 To my authority 
 Yield priority. 
 Or I'll worret ye 
 
 Well: 
 What 's old ^olus ? 
 Match'd with me a louse. 
 Where 's his real use. 
 
 Tell. 
 Hence begone. 
 Or else anon 
 My Trident's prong 
 Among- 
 Your throno- 
 Ding dong. 
 Obedience shall compel, 
 G 2
 
 124 
 
 Hearts I'll shake. 
 And bones I'll break. 
 My power 's at stake 
 To make 
 You quake 
 And wake 
 Repentant sighs in hell. 
 See what foul weather 
 You've been a brewing ; 
 Ships together 
 All go to ruin. 
 Billows dashing. 
 Timbers crashing. 
 In confusion dire ! 
 Deluge pouring. 
 Tempest roaring. 
 All the sea on fire ! 
 With rumble, rumble, rumble, rumble. 
 Tumble, tumble, tumble, tumble. 
 Jumble, jumble, jumble, jumble 
 Too:
 
 125 
 
 You'll rue 
 This stew 
 And look prodigious blue. 
 With mumble, mumble, mumble, mumble. 
 Grumble, grumble, grumble, grumble. 
 Bumble, bumble, bumble, bumble. 
 Boo! 
 I'll do 
 For you 
 And all your ragged crew. 
 Begone once more : 
 Stint, stint your roar— 
 For Sea and Shore 
 There's now repose in store. — ■ 
 If^olus 
 Unbolt you thus. 
 Tell him from us. 
 He'll march to Tartarus. 
 My blows. 
 He knows.
 
 126 
 SCENE 11. 
 
 Jupiter and Mercury descend. 
 RECITATIV:^ 
 
 MERCURY. 
 
 Uncle, your blessing. 
 
 JUPITER. 
 
 Ha ! how fares it brother ? 
 
 NEPTUNE. 
 
 So then, 'twas you kick'd up this plaguy pother ! 
 
 MERCURY. 
 
 Aye — for 't must seem just as if, helter skelter. 
 We drove ashore, and scrambled up for shelter. 
 
 NEPTUNE. 
 
 And left yon seamen in the suds to welter ! 
 
 DUETTO. 
 
 Air — Lay that suUen Garland hy thee. Durfey, vol. i. 
 
 p. 63. 
 
 JUPITER. 
 
 Routed from our starry palace. 
 Now we try our luck down stairs ; 
 Safe at least from Juno's malice, 
 Restless clack and jealous airs.
 
 127 
 
 MERCURY. 
 
 Me she cufFs and calls a Pander, 
 Oft' as Daddy goes astray ; 
 He turns Bull, or Gold, or Gander, 
 I'm belabour'd night and day. 
 
 BOTH. 
 
 Curse on these celestial jades. 
 
 Now we'll couple, now we'll couple. 
 
 Couple now with mortal maids. 
 
 JUPITER. 
 
 Who, when ranting housewives wrangle. 
 Like a dolt would mope at home ? 
 
 MERCURY. 
 
 Brats in leading-strings may dangle, 
 Stout gallants should freely roam. 
 
 BOTH. 
 
 Thus equipp'd for our experi- 
 ment, no longer Gods, but Tars, 
 
 J UP. I Joe Thunder, you Mark Wherry. 
 MER. You I 
 
 Wreck'd in storms, and maim'd in wars.
 
 128 
 
 Power and pomp go hang-, go hang : 
 Now we'll swagger, drink and stagger 
 Drink and stagger, swear and slang. 
 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 NEPTUNE. 
 
 Good luck t' ye both. 
 
 [Exit Neptune shaking his fist at the Winds, who slink off, 
 7nuking the vulgar signs of defiance. Jupiter and Mer- 
 cury step apart, as if to take leave of Neptune : and 
 Philander enters on the opposite side not observing 
 them. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 PHILANDER. 
 
 Here's a confounded rumpus! . 
 In one short hour I've box'd it round the compass. 
 
 MERCURY. 
 
 What's this ? a brother pickle ?
 
 129 
 
 JUPITER. 
 
 Him I mention'd ; 
 Heir to these lands here. 
 
 MERCURY. 
 
 Faith he's had his drench on't. 
 
 PHILANDER. 
 
 Now stranded high and dry like some huge porpoise. 
 
 JUPITER. 
 
 Come, ere he sees us, let's go metamorphose. 
 
 [Exeunt Jupiter and Mercury. 
 
 PHILANDER. 
 
 Am I bewitch'd ? Sure that's our church and steeple. 
 'Twere worse than drowning now to meet our people. 
 Old Plutus' avarice and Pandora's malice 
 Would go well nigh to drive me to the gallows. 
 
 [Re-enter Jupiter and Mercury, disguised as seamen. 
 
 JUPITER. 
 
 What cheer, your honour ? 
 
 MERCURY. 
 
 Sous'd like us I reckon. 
 
 PHILANDER. 
 
 And no bad luck e'en thus to save my bacon. 
 
 G 3
 
 130 
 
 JUPITER. 
 
 Wet death or dry, 'twixt famine and foul weather. 
 What odds ? 
 
 PHILANDER. 
 
 Here's that keeps Ufe and soul together. 
 
 (Produces a bottle.) 
 
 TRIO. Air — We be three poor Blariners. 
 
 We be each a mariner, late relics of the storm, 
 A voyage more sad or barrener did sailors ne'er perform. 
 Hurl'd by the winds around around around. 
 Where perils did abound abound abound, 
 WeVe toil'd and struggled far and neai*, and scarce at 
 last made ground. 
 
 JUPITER AND MERCURY. 
 
 Now we rely on charity, Our pressing wants to cheer, 
 Heav'ii grant it prove no rarity. Or we must perish here. 
 
 ALL THREE. 
 
 Take hands my boys around around around. 
 No cares shall tars astound astound astound. 
 Secure of some assistance near, now we're on British 
 ground.
 
 131 
 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 PHILANDER. 
 
 Hark ye, my lads ; D'ye see that house to larboard ? 
 
 JUPITER, 
 
 Aye, like a first-rate moor'd and safely harboured. 
 
 PHILANDER. 
 
 There lives an arrant Shark, an old and hardy one, 
 Plutus by name ; who calls himself my guardian. 
 Look out, while I steer clear. Be brisk and handy. 
 
 MEKCUKY. 
 
 A sweetheart — mum. 
 
 JUPITER. 
 
 Aye, aye, we understand ye. 
 
 PHILANDER. 
 
 Here's cash d'ye see. [Exit, 
 
 JUPITER. 
 
 Well said, my brave commander — 
 PhcEbe shall strike to none, but her Philander. 
 
 [Exeunt.
 
 ] 32 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 Phiius's Office. 
 
 Enter Plutus and Plulemon in earnest discourse. Plutus 
 in his night'Cap and morning-gown, surroiaidcd ivith 
 hooks of accounts, as if occupied in calculation. P/iile- 
 mon with parish books under his ann, and an ink-glass 
 with a pen in it at his button-hole, as Collector of Rates 
 and Taxes. A large board rests agai^ist the legs of the 
 table, painted blue, and insa'ibed in gold letters, Bank 
 FOK Sea and Land. 
 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 PLUTUS. 
 
 I'll see to 't. — Now for my new bank, Philemon, 
 There's more advantage in it, than you dream on. 
 Look ye, as you're I'ax- gatherer and Church-warden, 
 You know our circulation to a farthing. 
 The king's and parish cash do you deposit 
 Snug in my hands : much safer than yo\u' closet : 
 Tiien draw my notes, and for th' amount you utter 
 Yuu'll clear — d'ye take me? — Pshaw ! what's that you 
 mutter.
 
 <JQ 
 
 13 
 
 SONG. AiK — T/ie Clock had struck. DuRFEy,vol.iii. p. 25. 
 
 PLUTUS. 
 
 Zounds ! Philemon, you're an old fool, 
 A baby's more fit the parish for to rule. 
 Join with me you dog, but mum. 
 We'll have the folks here under our thumb. 
 
 Cry down cash. 
 
 Vow 'tis trash. 
 Now here, now there, now gone like a vapour j 
 
 Cram my notes 
 
 Down their throats, 
 Swear they'll never get rich but with Paper. 
 Paper, paper, paper, paper's the run — 
 Soon there'll not be a guinea left under the sun. 
 
 Go, collect your taxes quick, 
 Tell'em the king won't wait a week. 
 Bring all the guineas you can find. 
 Light or heavy, never mind. 
 
 If they run dry, 
 
 I'll supply 
 All the parish ; none can do it cheaper
 
 134 
 
 Herd and flock. 
 
 Stock and block, 
 ril purchase all, and pay 'em down in Paper. 
 Paper, paper, paper, paper's the run — 
 Soon there'll not be a guinea left under the sun. 
 
 I'll pass my notes thro' thick and thin ; 
 You for rates and taxes take 'em in : 
 Not a grain of gold all the country round, 
 Plutus's bank must needs gain ground. 
 
 Fields and farms 
 
 Bought by swarms. 
 The parish shall be shoe, and I'll be the scraper ; 
 
 For the job, 
 
 I'll your fob 
 Line with my dainty never-failing paper. 
 Paper, paper, paper, paper's the run — 
 Soon there'll not be a guinea left under the sun. 
 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 PHILEMON. 
 
 Such cheating tricks are not for my connivance. 
 
 Sure 'tis Old Nick's own rascally contrivance. [Exit Phil.
 
 135 
 
 PLUTUS. 
 
 Well, go your ways, you stupid old curmudgeon ; 
 
 Fll prosper yet, howe'er you take 't in dudgeon. 
 
 And now for Phcebe — for to crown my wishes. 
 
 They say my ward Philander's food for fishes. 
 
 A lucky hit, it keeps my conscience under — 
 
 Takes off my rival, and secures my plunder. [Exit. 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 Philemon's Cottage. 
 Enter Philemon a7id Thyrsis. 
 
 PHILEMON. 
 
 Pshaw ! man, how often have 1 said already 
 That never yet faint heart could win fair lady r 
 
 SONG. Air — Some time ago J married a Wife. 
 
 'Tis three score years since first I woo'd 
 Old Baucis, and Baucis was then a prude :
 
 136 
 
 Then I fail'd in my farm, and the matter to mend. 
 My neighbours all pitied, but none would lend. 
 
 Not a friend 
 
 An ear to lend, 
 I thought my disasters would never end. 
 I had pigs, I had chickens, a horse, a cow. 
 But she died in calf, and I know not how; 
 My pigs caught the mange, and that rogue, sly Robin, 
 He rifled my purse, and rode oft with dun Dobbin. 
 
 Couldn't help sobbing. 
 
 Poor dun Dobbin ! 
 Ne'er a nag in my stall, nor a groat my fob in. 
 My troubles, alack ! I felt full sore. 
 But egad ! I took courage, and toil'd the more ; 
 For what were my pigs, my cows, my horses ? 
 My cattle I lost, but I won my Baucis : 
 
 Blest with Baucis, 
 
 A fig for all losses. 
 To be crossed in love is the cross of all crosses. 
 
 THYRSIS. 
 
 Why there's the rub : for to say true, your daughter 
 Loves me, much as the devil loves holy water.
 
 137 
 
 SONG. Air — Burton's Hunt. 
 
 The first lass I tried, would have fain been my bride. 
 And she sav'd me the trouble to woo : 
 
 I for variety and contrariety 
 Made my best bow without further ado. 
 My best bow without further ado. 
 When to Phosbe I came, 'twas a different game j 
 I sigh'd, and she turn'd up her nose ; 
 
 Talk'd of gentility, scarce with civility. 
 Eyed me tho' drest in my holiday cloaths. 
 So spruce in my holiday cloaths. 
 One mid-summer day we were tossing the bay; 
 While she prattled, I fain would have romp'd — 
 
 She with severity join'd to dexterity, 
 Ups with her fork, and O Lord ! how she thump'd, 
 I ne'er was so cruelly thump'd. 
 So there I lay flat ; but no matter for that. 
 Though I carry the marks to my grave. 
 
 Thus taught sobriety and properietj/, 
 Nobody knows better how to behave. 
 So prettily now I behave
 
 1 38 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 Enter Baucis. 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 THYRSIS. 
 
 Where's Phabe^ dame ? 
 
 BAUCIS. 
 
 Ar'n't you asham'd to ask it ? 
 
 Gone to the fair. 
 
 THYRSIS. 
 
 Adzooks ! I'll bear the basket. 
 
 [Exit Thyrsi$. 
 
 BAUCIS. 
 
 For all the world like us.— She'll rate him roundly. 
 
 PHILEMON. 
 
 He'll snatch a buss. (Kissing her.) 
 
 BAUCIS. 
 
 And then she bangs him soundly. 
 
 DUETTO. AiK — ivhistk and I will come to you. 
 
 BAUCIS. 
 
 Well-a-day ! my dear Phil, 'tis a long time ago 
 
 Since I call'd you my deer and you call'd me your doe.
 
 159 
 
 We were wed and had twins, rather sudden or so : 
 But no matter how soon after wedlock you know. 
 
 PHILEMON. 
 
 Well-a-day ! 'tis betwixt fifty years and three score. 
 That together we've tugg'd at life's labouring oar ; 
 
 BAUCIS. 
 
 We've spun a long span ; could we spin as much more 
 We'd twist true-loves tether as tight as before. 
 
 BOTH. 
 
 Time furrows the brow, and discolours the head. 
 As the snow-flakes that drift on the roof of our shed. 
 But love with the last vital embers is fed. 
 And our hearts are as warm as when first we were wed. 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 
 An Entrance-hall in Plutus's House. 
 
 Enter Mtrtilla and Ucalegon. 
 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 MTRTILLA. 
 
 Now should my lady ring, be sure you tell her 
 I'm just stept out — that's a good-natur'd fellow.
 
 140 
 
 UCALEGON. 
 
 Och ! to be sure. 
 
 MYRTILLA. 
 
 For bobbin, tags, and sarsnet — 
 
 UCALEGON. 
 
 Nay, to mate Thyrsis, as you dream'd of last night. 
 
 MYRTILLA. 
 
 Take that, you blundering bull, you toad, you varmin. 
 
 UCALEGON. 
 
 Augh ! laive ofF courting country teagues and car-men. 
 Must you naids wed, and can't be after waiting. 
 Here's swait Ucalegon wants no entraiting..('.5rt/w/es her.) 
 (A violent ringing and knocking at the door.) 
 
 DUETTO. Air— 77ie Christ-Church Bells. 
 
 MYRTILLA. 
 
 Hark ! I hear my lady's bell, 
 'Tis a chime I know full well: 
 
 So fierce she tugs. 
 
 It stuns our lugs. 
 And she rings eternal, eternally.
 
 141 
 
 UCALEGON. 
 
 Hark ! the knocker out o'doors, 
 That ev'ry day at office hours 
 With swinging thumps 
 Cries stir your stumps : 
 Little Teague kaips running to and fro. 
 
 MYRTILLA. 
 
 Tingle, tingle, tingle, goes the little hand-bell. 
 Just like my lady's clack. 
 
 BOTH. 
 
 But I'll not trudge. 
 And I'll not budge 
 Till the doors and bell-ropes crack. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE VIII. 
 
 E7iler Pandora. — (Knocking continues.) 
 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 JUPITER and MERCuny, (without.) 
 All hands ahoy ? -
 
 142 
 
 PANDORA. 
 
 Here's a loud peal ! 
 
 Re'cnier Ucalegon. 
 
 UCALEGON. 
 
 No wonder, 
 Plaise you, my lady, 'tis one Mr. Thunder. 
 
 PANDORA. 
 
 Some Squire, no doubt, one of our neighbouring gentry. 
 Go shew 'em up. 
 
 UCALEGON. 
 
 Och ! here they force their entry. 
 
 [Exit Ucalegon. 
 
 Enter Jupiter and Mercury, singing, ivithout appearing 
 to observe Pandora, xvlio ogles Mercwy during the 
 Duet. 
 
 DUETTO. Air — A begging :oe will go. Durfey, 
 vol. i. p. 281. 
 
 JUPITER. 
 
 My name it is Old Thunder, I've weather'd many a gale. 
 Aboard the Royal Eagle late it was my luck to sail. 
 And a begging we will go, &c.
 
 14^ 
 
 MEIiCURY. 
 
 A tedious voyage we've ventur'd, a voyage I've beeu 
 
 full oft. 
 There's ne'er a lad can go below, or climb like me aloft. 
 And a begging we will go, &c. 
 
 JUPITER. 
 
 The cares of Church and State, sir, we value not a louse, 
 Nor any thought have we at all, but how to earn a sousei 
 And a begging we will go, &c. 
 
 BOTH. 
 
 Then who that 'twixt vexation and ease can weigh the odds 
 Would chop and change the beggar's life to live hke 
 heathen o-ods ? 
 And a begging we will go, &c. 
 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 PANDORA. 
 
 Heigh-ho ! my heart. 
 
 SCENE IX. 
 
 Enter Plutus and Clerks. 
 
 PLUTUS. 
 
 Here seize on these rascallions.
 
 I 
 
 144 
 
 PANDORA. 
 
 Spare the poor youth. 
 
 PLUTUS. 
 
 What for your private daUiance ? 
 
 PANDORA. 
 
 Do, what you will with that old sturdy sinner. 
 
 JUPITER, (aside to Mercury.) 
 To her-we'll stand our ground could you but win her. 
 
 MERCURY. 
 
 Dear ma'am make me your groom so spruce and spunky ? 
 
 PLUTUS. 
 
 Shall I wear horns to please a powder-monkey ? 
 QUARTETTO and CHORUS. AiK-Hunting the Hare. 
 
 JUPITER AND MERCURY. 
 
 Spare a brace of unfortunate mariners 
 Wreck'd d'ye see, for we scorn for to fudge, 
 Wreck'd while guarding Old England from foreigners, 
 Give poor Jack a snug bh-th, and ne'er grudge. 
 
 PLUTUS. 
 
 Hence be trotting, you beggarly vagabond, 
 Hence be gone with your flimsy pretence ;
 
 145 
 
 Zounds ! I warrant you know how to drag a pond. 
 Wire a hare, or jump over a fence. 
 
 MEKCURY. 
 
 Tell, good lady, those fair-weather gentlemen. 
 We defy little Bony to come. 
 Lest, at sight of his fierce regimental men, 
 They should faint at his Fee-fau-fum. 
 
 PANDORA. 
 
 There's a voice that might soften a Saracen, 
 Eyes to ravish the heart of a nun ; 
 PrimM with courage enough for a garrison. 
 Fair as Phoebus and fierce as a Hun. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 PLUTUS AND CLERKS. 
 
 We've enough in all conscience of pillagers 
 Poach our forests and plunder our flocks : 
 Then, for warning to our silly villagers. 
 Seize 'em, clap 'em both into the stocks. 
 
 JUPITER AND MERCURY. 
 
 We be tars, neither poachers nor pillagers 
 Come to plunder your forests and flocks ;
 
 146 
 
 Woe to you and your clerks and your villagers. 
 Thus for clapping us into the stocks. 
 
 PANDORA. 
 
 He is none of your ill-looking pillagers ; 
 Such clean limbs and such clustering locks. 
 Worth a score of our lubberly villagers. 
 Ne'er were made to be clapt into stocks. 
 
 [^Exeunt on one side Jupiter and Mercury in custody, on 
 the other Pandora in despair.
 
 147 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 SCENE I. 
 
 Before Philemon's Cottage.— Baucis is discovered spinning. 
 To her, enter Phoshe. 
 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 PHCEBE. 
 
 Rare tidings, mother. 
 
 BAUCIS. 
 
 Sure the wench is crazy. 
 Has the sow pigg'd ? or Roger got at Daisy ? 
 
 PHCEBE. 
 
 All safe and sound. 
 
 H 2
 
 148 
 
 BAUCIS. 
 
 Who ? what ?— our old stray gander ? 
 
 PHOEBE. 
 
 La ! mother, no — 
 
 BAUCIS. 
 
 What, Dobbin ? 
 
 PHCEBE. 
 
 No — Philander. 
 DUETTO. Aui M'ha detto la mia Mamma. Martini. 
 
 PHCEBE. 
 
 Dear mother, betimes this morn 
 
 They say the Captain landed ; 
 
 He loves me if ever man did. 
 
 And that he has said and sworn. 
 
 Then who would put up with a Bumkin ? 
 
 The very thought 1 scorn : 
 
 For this has a head like a Pumpkin, 
 
 And that's a gentleman born. 
 
 BAUCIS. 
 
 A gentleman ! ay, for sooth, 
 A fiddle-stick's end, you hussy ; 
 Why sure your brain must be muzzy 
 To take all he says for truth :
 
 149 
 
 Tlien know the true length of your tether. 
 Nor scorn a homely youth. 
 With birds of a different feather. 
 To shew a liquorish tooth. 
 
 PHCEBE. 
 
 Let every Jack have his Joan, 
 Let Thyrsis stick to Myrtilla, 
 That neither may wear the willow. 
 But each have a spark of her own. 
 (During the last verse Philander enters unobserved by 
 Baucis, and interchanges signs with Phabe.) 
 
 BOTH. 
 BAUCIS. 
 
 Get in, or I swear I'll be at ye. 
 Go work at your needle and spin. 
 If you are so froward and chatty, 
 I'll break every bone in your skin. 
 
 PHCEBE TO PHILANDER. 
 
 Keep back, or I fear she'll be at ye. 
 
 And break every bone in your skin. 
 
 I own I'm dispos'd to be chatty. 
 
 So prithee good mother get in. [Exit Baucis.
 
 150 
 
 SCENE II. 
 SONG. Am — Fairest Isle, all Isles excelling. Purcell. 
 
 PHILANDER. 
 
 Fairest maid, all maids excelling, 
 Arm'd with virtue, fraught with charms : 
 Port, where no rude storms are swelling. 
 Safe from all but love's alarms. 
 Those bright eyes have more attraction 
 Than the Lode-stars in the Pole ; 
 Signals hoisted out for action 
 Urge my breast with less controul. 
 
 Eichest of all earthly prizes 
 To victorious arms decreed; 
 Source, whence all ambition rises. 
 Peaceful toil, or martial deed. 
 Still to earn the smiles of beauty 
 Pleas'd from clime to clime we rove : 
 High the wages, light the duty, 
 Offer'd at the shrine of Love.
 
 151 
 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 BAUCIS, (ivithin.) 
 Phoebe, why Phcebe ! 
 
 PHCEBE. 
 
 Coming — 
 
 PHILANDER. 
 
 Stop a minute — 
 
 BAUCIS. 
 
 Phoebe— 
 
 PHILANDER. 
 
 Confound your throat, the devil's in it. 
 
 PHCEBE. 
 
 I dare not wait. 
 
 PHILANDER. 
 
 One kiss, and so good bye t'ye. 
 
 BAUCIS, (entering.) 
 What! must I fetch you — Heigh-day! Hiti-tity ! 
 
 \Exeimt severally.
 
 152 
 SCENE III. 
 
 An Apartjnent in Plutus'a House. — Enter Plutus and 
 
 Pandora. 
 
 DUETTO. Air — Geary Owen. The Irish Musical 
 Kepositorv, &c. p. 74. 
 
 PANDORA. 
 
 I'll have my revenge ; for I'm not such a dunce 
 But I know of your pranks, and I tell you at once 
 I'll have none of your Phoebes kept under my nose : 
 She shall pack up her alls — and off she goes. 
 
 BOTH. 
 PANDORA. 
 
 You silly gull 
 
 With brainless skull. 
 
 To dangle after such a trull, 
 ril not sit by so contented and dull. 
 While you're so free to pick and to cull. 
 
 PLUTUS. 
 
 You noisy trull. 
 You split my skull.
 
 153 
 
 You roar as loud as any bull. 
 
 I'll not sit by so contented and dull 
 
 While you're so free to pick and to cull. 
 
 PLUTUS. 
 
 Why, zounds ! when I took you for better for worse. 
 Who'd have thought the grey mare was the better horse > 
 I married, 'tis true, for your ladyship's pelf; 
 Who the deuce would have married you for yourself? 
 
 BOTH. 
 PLUTUS. 
 
 You peevish hag 
 You want a gag ; 
 With you a precious life I drag. 
 
 PANDORA. 
 
 You paltry brag. 
 You'd scarce a rag. 
 Until I till'd your money-bag. 
 
 PANDORA. 
 
 But set a beggar upon a nag 
 He'll ride to the devil, and never fag. 
 h3
 
 154 
 
 BOTH. 
 
 So now we part 
 
 With all my heart. 
 And I'll be ready first to start, 
 A truce to all disguise and art. 
 
 PANDORA. 
 
 You'll ring for my coach ? 
 
 PLUTUS. 
 
 You may go in the cart. 
 
 BOTH. 
 
 And now — without the slightest pain. 
 Adieu ! — may we never meet again. 
 
 [Exii Plutus. 
 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 PANDORA. 
 
 Well, though this brutish squire I've fail'd to wheedle. 
 To free the charming youth I've brib'd the beadle 
 At Harvest-home shall old Philemon treat him ; 
 Where on the wings of love to-night I'll meet him. 
 
 [Exit.
 
 155 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 The Church-Yard. Jupiter and Mercury in the stocks. — 
 To them, enter Philemon, 
 
 TRIO. Air — Of noble Race was Shenkin. 
 
 JUPITER AND MERCURY. 
 
 Is this youi' land of freedom. 
 
 True Britons thus to shackle ? 
 
 No need of docks have we, nor stocks ; 
 
 We're sound both hull and tackle. 
 
 PHILEMON. 
 
 Squire Plutus, by your favour. 
 These lads you've been too hard on : 
 But here's a key, shall set them free. 
 As sure as I'm Church-warden. 
 
 (Unlocks the padlock.) 
 
 ALL. 
 JUPITER AND MERCURY. 
 
 So thanks to you my hearty. 
 We're clear from slips and bilboes : 
 We'd gladly share your harvest fare. 
 And rest our aching elbows.
 
 156 
 
 PHILANDER. 
 
 Your hand, and yours, my hearty. 
 
 You're clear from shps and bilboes. 
 
 Come home and share my harvest fare. 
 
 And rest your aching elbows. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 Enter Phcebe. 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 PHCEBE. 
 
 Not yet return'd ! *Tis monstrous thus to tarry, 
 I wonder how he'll treat mcj when we marry. 
 
 SONG. Air — Would you zvin the tender creature. 
 
 Handel's Acis and Galatea. 
 Woman, doom'd as soon as mated. 
 Ever to be subjugated.
 
 157 
 
 Haste, thy fleeting' power employ : 
 Why so quickly rashly barter 
 Freedom's everlasting charter. 
 For a little month of joy ? 
 
 Short's the revel, long the fasting ; 
 Who would be content with tastinsr ? 
 Then set to, and freely feed : 
 Rule like tyrants unresisted ; 
 Once in Hymen's corps enlisted. 
 Turn the wheel, obey and — breed. 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 Enter Plutus. 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 PLUTUS. 
 
 By the Lord Harry ! here's a lucky meeting- 
 
 PHCEBE. 
 
 My stars ! the Squire ! 
 
 PLUTUS. 
 
 Come, come, there's no retreatintr
 
 158 
 
 DUETTO. A\^— Great Lord Frog to Lady Mouse. 
 
 DuRFEY, vol. V. p. 298. 
 
 PLUTUS. 
 
 Grant my suit, and we shall become 
 Debtor here, creditor there : 
 Take these notes; a precious sum ! 
 Payable on demand. 
 You shall have a coach and four, 
 And of livery Jacks a score ; 
 I've to pay them o'er and o'er 
 Paper enough in hand. 
 
 PHCEBE. 
 
 On these terms we ne'er can be 
 Debtor here, creditor there ; 
 I care not for notes a flea 
 Payable on demand. 
 
 PLUTUS. 
 
 Since you scorn my cash-account 
 Debtor here, creditor there. 
 Value I'll have without amount 
 Payable on demand.
 
 159 
 
 PHCEBE. 
 
 Get you gone, you scurvy patch;, 
 Or I vow rU claw and scratch. 
 Here comes one, that's more your match- 
 He shall take you in hand. 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 
 Enter Philander. 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 PHILANDER. 
 
 Avast ! sheer ofF, old Mammon, 
 What! not content to gammon 
 A man of every acre. 
 And leave his coffers empty ? 
 What devil in hell could tempt ye, 
 Like an old crafty pirate. 
 My lawful prize to fire at — 
 Thus fore and aft to rake her. 
 And then to board and take her. 
 And be damn'd t'ye ?
 
 160 
 
 PLUTl/S. 
 
 Philander! zounds ! what ill-wind blew him hither ? 
 Ente?^ Thyrsis. 
 
 THYRSIS. 
 
 Heigh ! here's a hubbub. 
 
 PLUTUS. 
 
 Out ! you great Bell-weather — 
 
 PHCEBE. 
 
 So here are all my sweethearts met together. 
 
 QUARTETTO. Am~A Tory, a Whig, and a moderate 
 Blan. DuRFEY, vol. v. p. 321. 
 
 PHCEBE. 
 
 A captain, a squire, or a clown, I may chuse. 
 
 So by sea and by land 
 
 I have all at command : 
 But I know which to take, and which refuse. 
 
 PLUTUS. 
 
 Ere long both my rivals shall feel my wrath. 
 
 THYRSIS. 
 
 O too many cooks they spoil the broth. 
 
 PHILANDER. 
 
 Avast! ye land-lubbers, I'll buffet you both.
 
 161 
 
 PHCEBE. 
 
 Philander my love shall be. 
 
 PLUTUs, (to Philander and to Thyrsis.) 
 As for you, my boy, you may take my word, 
 
 I'll write to the Lords of the Navy-board, 
 
 And you, sirrah ! clown — 
 
 THYRSIS. 
 
 I'll crack your crown. 
 
 PLUTUS. 
 
 I'll have you sent down 
 To the county jail, for rent in arrears to me. 
 
 THYRSIS. 
 
 I care not a straw 
 For you nor the law. 
 
 PLUTUS. 
 
 I warrant you'll sing to a different tune, 
 And that full soon. 
 
 ALL. 
 
 THYRSIS, (to Phoebe.) 
 I'd have you to know I'm no poltroon. 
 
 Then chuse for your love, tho' he be but a loon. 
 
 The stoutest of all the three.
 
 162 
 
 PHCEBE. 
 
 I'll chuse for my love neither squire nor the loon, 
 The Captain's the man for me. 
 
 PLUTUS. 
 
 I'll have her in spite both of sailor and loon, 
 I'm richest of all the three. 
 
 PHILANDER. 
 
 We'll leave in the lurch both the squire and the loon. 
 This way, my dear Phoebe, with me. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 (Thj/rsis drives Plutus out on one side, and Philander 
 conducts Phccbe on the other.) 
 
 SCENE VIII. 
 
 Enter Myktilla. 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 MYRTILLA. 
 
 No Thyrsis yet! well! please the pigs, I'll match him. 
 How I will worret him, when next I catch him.
 
 \63 
 
 SONG. AiK—3Ii/ Blistress is a Hive of Bees. 
 
 DuKFEY, vol. i. p. 158. 
 
 Just like a pin without a head 
 
 Are poor deserted women : 
 Or like a needle wanting thread. 
 
 Or gown with ne'er a trimming. 
 
 But flounce or frill we add at will ; 
 
 In love the case far worse is : 
 No spinster's art can to my heart 
 
 Supply the loss of Thyrsis. 
 
 A cap, whose fashion lasts a day, 
 A glass, too crack'd to gaze on, 
 
 A shatter'd fan, an old bouquet, 
 A short-liv'd demisaison ; 
 
 True lover's notes turn'd papillots. 
 
 In spite of vows and verses ; 
 All these once worn, perus'd, or torn. 
 
 Fare just like me with Thyrsis.
 
 164 
 
 A waiting maid casliier'd of vails, 
 Or tradesman out of pocket. 
 
 Oft' in revenge tell naughty tales, 
 And charge for ring and locket. 
 
 Though madam shuns the tiresome duns. 
 And shuffles, shams, and curses. 
 
 Yet still they call, till she pays all — 
 And thus I'll deal with Thyrsis. 
 
 SCENE IX. 
 
 Enter Thyrsis, 7iot observing Myrtilla. 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 MYRTILLA. 
 
 O here he comes, the parjur'd gay deceiver. 
 
 THYRSIS. 
 
 Heigh ! Phcebe flown ! O what a dunce to leave her. 
 So while I trounc'd the Squire, she takes the Captain. 
 
 RIYKTILLA, (uside.) 
 
 And for your pains a prison you'll be clapt in.
 
 1^ 
 
 THYRSIS. 
 
 Odds-bobs! ril after. 
 
 MY RT ILL A. 
 
 Stay thou, false and fickle. 
 
 THYRSIS. 
 
 O Gemini ! here's a rare rod in pickle ! 
 
 SCENE X. 
 
 Enter Plutus behind with Bailiff's. 
 CATCH. Air — 'Twasyou Sir, 'tivas t/ou. Sir, 
 
 PLUXUS. 
 
 That's he, sir, that's he, sir. 
 Lug out your parchment squeezer. 
 For rent unpaid — you know your trade — 
 That's he, sir, he.
 
 166 
 
 BAILIFFS. 
 
 We see, sir, we see, sir. 
 We'll nab bim like a flea, sir. 
 If rhino fail, be must to jail. 
 Along with we. 
 
 THYRSIS. 
 
 Nay, sir, pray, sir. 
 It is not long to stay, sir ; 
 Let go your hold, and I'll find gold, 
 'Gainst quarter-day. 
 
 QUINTETTO. Am—Fj/e now prithee John. 
 
 MYRTILLA. 
 
 O have pity, sir. 
 
 Cash I'll get ye, sir. 
 
 Stop my wages, I'll freely pay. 
 
 PLUTUS, 
 
 Sure the jade has lost her wits. 
 
 MYRTILLA. 
 
 Here take my vails, my perquisites.
 
 167 
 
 BAILIFFS. 
 
 We'll all go snacks. 
 
 THYRSIS. 
 
 So now we're quits. 
 
 PLUTUS. 
 
 But I say nay. 
 
 BAILIFFS, (to Thyrsis.) 
 Mind your eye, or in a crack 
 
 We'll lash your hands behind your back. 
 
 Though you look blue and sweat and stew. 
 
 You must come away. 
 
 THYRSIS. 
 
 Blood ! hands off, or in a crack 
 I'll lay you sprawling on your back. 
 The Squire and you are all too few 
 
 To force me away. 
 
 PLUTUS,- (to Bailiffs.) 
 Do your duty. (To Myrtilla.) Hold your clack. 
 Aye, that's your sort, here this way, Mac. 
 I'll make you rue, you scoundrel you. 
 Away boys, away.
 
 163 
 
 MYRTILLA. 
 
 Well-a-day ! alack! alack! 
 
 He's gone and never will come back. 
 
 My love adieu ! and money too. 
 
 They're both flown away. 
 
 [Exeunt.
 
 169 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 SCENE I. 
 
 A71 Apartment in Plutus's House. 
 
 Enter Plutus and Ucalegon. 
 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 PLUTUS. 
 
 Fetch me my mask. Thus muffled I'll assault her. 
 
 UCALEGON, (aside.) 
 Arrah ! your honour well deserves a halter. 
 
 (Exit Plutus disguised.) 
 
 UCALEGON. 
 
 Och ! but I'll paich, and that you may rely on. 
 Sure as my name's Ucalegon Orion. 
 
 I
 
 170 
 
 SONG. Air — Hubhubbubboo. Durfey, vol. i. p.74. 
 Hubbubbubboo ! hubbubbubboo ! 
 The Squire shall rue. 
 Though none but Pat 
 Knows what he *s at, 
 Och ! I've a skull 
 Of brains so full, 
 I scarce know what to do. 
 Hubbubbubboo ! hubbubbubboo 1 
 Laive Pat alone 
 To pick a bone. 
 He naids no friends 
 To work his ends ; 
 O then laive Pat alone 
 To pick a bone. 
 This precious nob 
 Shall do the job. 
 A fig for Bail— 
 We'll fire the jail. 
 Break loose, and scale. 
 Defy the law 
 Shilleleagh draw,
 
 171 
 
 Drink, Usquebaugh — 
 
 Huzza ! huzza ! huzza ! [Exit. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Before Philemon's Cottage. 
 
 Enter Jupiter, Mercury, and Mvrtilla. 
 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 JUPITER. 
 
 Cheer up — take heart — for shame, ne'er whine and 
 
 blubber. 
 Two tars at least are match for one land-lubber. 
 
 mercury. 
 Or if 'twill comfort you — take my confession. 
 
 To speak the truth, we're conj'rers by profession. 
 
 JUPITER. 
 
 Know I can tiiunder. 
 
 i2
 
 172 
 
 MEKCURY. 
 
 Trust me, I'm no mocker — 
 Fd fetch him back, tho' fast in Davy's locker. 
 
 CSheivs his caduceus.) 
 
 TRIO. Air — Viva tutte le vezzose. 
 
 MYRTILLA.^ 
 
 Pooh ! 'tis plain you mean to joke us 
 With your conjure hocus pocus. - 
 
 JUPITER AND MERCURY. 
 
 What you've said, you'll ne'er maintain. , 
 What we've said we will maintain. 
 
 MYRTILLA. 
 
 Then, good gentlemen magicians. 
 Prithee name your own conditions. 
 How may I my love regain ? 
 
 Good magicians 
 
 What conditions ? 
 
 JUPITER AND MERCURY. 
 
 Hocus pocus. 
 
 MYRTILLA. 
 
 How may I my love regain ?
 
 173 
 
 , , ALL. 
 JUPITER AND MERCURY. 
 
 We poor gentlemen magicians 
 Crant your suit on these conditions. 
 We must kiss you once again. 
 
 MYRTILLA. 
 
 Fye, good gentlemen magicians. 
 
 No, no, no, on no conditions — 
 
 You shall kiss me ne'er again. lExeunt. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 Enter' Philemon and Philander. 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 PHILEMON. 
 
 Faith, Captain, since you talk so fairly. 
 And seem to set your heart upon her — 
 
 PHILANDER. 
 
 Look ye, old gentleman, I've pledg'd the honour 
 And credit of the Navy.—
 
 174 
 
 LEMOl 
 
 An oath I know you prize as dearly 
 As if you took your dayy. 
 
 PHILANDEK. 
 
 Besides, d'ye see ? I've made some prizes* 
 While cruising on the high seas 
 *Twixt Brest and St. Domingo. 
 
 PHILEMON. 
 
 Your fist. — She's your's by jingo. 
 
 In proof of which I'll broach my stoutest stingo. 
 
 SONG. Air— Bumper Squire Jones. 
 
 A bargain my buck ; 
 'Tis just pudding-time ; so without more ado 
 Put up with pot-luck : 
 The guests are all seated. 
 And wish to be treated ; 
 We wait but for you. 
 Dame Baucis with grief 
 Sees her pudding and beef 
 Which she dish'd piping hot, growing cold as a frog.
 
 174 
 
 And I long to be spreading 
 The news of your wedding. 
 And toast the young couple in bumpers of grog. 
 
 ^Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 An Apartment in Plutus's House. 
 
 Enter Pandora with a mask in her hand. 
 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 PANDORA. 
 
 I come, I fly, — Tremble perfidious squire — 
 Love and revenge the vvrong'd Pandora fire.
 
 176 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 Enter on one side Myrtilla with a domino, ^c. and on 
 the other Ucalegon in a hurry. 
 
 TRIO, a Medley. \st Am — Ti riverisco. Paisaello. 
 
 PAflbORA. 
 
 Dido's brand — Roxana's chalice — 
 Floating robes — dislieveird hair. 
 
 2d AiK— Molly Mog. 
 
 MYRTILLA. 
 
 Dear madam, your gown and tippet. 
 Your curls I'm come to place. 
 
 PANDORA. 
 
 See ! for very rage and malice 
 How their mangled limbs I tear. 
 
 (Takes the domino and tears it. J 
 
 MYRTILLA. 
 
 O Lauk ! twas a pity to rip it. 
 The sweetest Mechlin lace ! 
 
 PANDORA. 
 
 Now I mount Medea's chariot.
 
 177 
 
 3d Air — / live in the Toivn of Kilkenny. 
 
 UCALEGON. 
 
 My Lady, the carriage is ready. 
 
 Pandora. 
 Fiery Dragons swift pursue. 
 
 UCALEGON. 
 
 Your ladyship's coach and four. 
 
 PANDORA. 
 
 Jason — O that false Iscariot! 
 
 UCALEGON. 
 
 Old Coachy so stiff and steady. 
 
 PANDORA. 
 
 With his Argonautic crew — 
 
 UCALEGON. 
 
 Dicky, Post-bo}^ myself and Neddy, 
 Are waiting below at the door. 
 
 ALL. 
 PANDORA. 
 
 Dread my wrath, thou trembling varlet. 
 Now I come, and now I fly. 
 
 Hence thou foul, detested harlot — 
 Die, perfidious traitor, die. 
 i3
 
 178 
 
 MYRTILLA. 
 
 Yuur Ladyship's gown and tippet. 
 You've draggled and torn like a clout : 
 But since 'twas your fancy to rip it, 
 I means to wear it out. 
 
 ALL. 
 UCALEGON. 
 
 The horses begin to grow frisky 
 With standing so long at the door; 
 The servants have tippled their whisky. 
 And grumble for want of more. [Exeunt. 
 
 (She boxes the maid, stubs the footman ivith her fan, and 
 exit, leaving them both in amazeme)it.) 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 
 Philemon s Cottage; Philemon, Philander, Jupiter, Mercury, 
 Baucis, Phahe, and Rustics, are discovered seated round 
 a Table, vcith Horns and Tankards, Sfc. 
 
 CHORUS. Am— Nimbly, nimbly. M. Locke. 
 
 Freely, freely, freely, freely, let the tankard foam. 
 
 To the echo, to the echo^ to the echo of Jlarvest-home.
 
 179 
 SONG. Air — Cease rude Boreas. 
 
 PHILANDER. 
 
 Fill a bumper, fill a bumper — 
 In one roaring toast combine. 
 Of our foes each gallant thumper. — 
 — Here's to all the British line. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 Cheerly, cheerly, checrly, cheerly, join in vocal glee. 
 
 To the echo, to the echo, to the echo of Three times three. 
 
 PHILANDER. 
 
 From heroes fam'd in earlier story. 
 To the Chief, whose radiant star. 
 In a setting blaze of glory. 
 Sunk, alas ! at Trafalgar. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 Cheerly, cheerly, &c. 
 
 PHILANDER. 
 
 Nor forget th' impartial service 
 Which aspires to half the worth. — 
 ■ — Here's to brave and generous Jerris — 
 He who sent the warrior forth.
 
 180 
 
 CHORUS. 
 Cheerly, cheerly, &c. 
 
 PHILANDER. 
 
 To Duncan, Hood, and Howe, victorious. 
 Last to him, whom last we mourn. 
 Late assign'd a station glorious 
 Near to Nelson's sacred urn. 
 
 (A knocking at (lie door.) 
 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 PHILEMON. 
 
 There's some one knocks. 
 
 BAUCIS. 
 
 We'll welcome in all comers. 
 
 SCENE VIII. 
 
 Enter at opposite sides Plutus and Pandora masked. 
 
 PHILEMON. 
 
 Rare doings! neighbours — here be masks aiidmummurs.
 
 181 
 
 JUPITER. 
 
 Avast ! here's ruin to the Squire and Madam, 
 
 MERCURY. 
 
 We'd tar and feather both if here we had 'em. 
 
 ALL. 
 
 Huzzah ! huzzah ! 
 
 PHILEMON. 
 
 Strike up, old Catgut-scraper. 
 
 SYMPHONY. 
 
 MERCURY, (to Pandora.) 
 Come on, old lass, if you'v^e a mind to caper. 
 
 (Baucis presents Plutus to Phcebe, and Philandei' to one 
 of the young women of the Chorus.) 
 
 BAUCIS. 
 
 Nay, Phoebe, come, for once give up Philander. 
 
 PHILANDER. 
 
 What ! shift my flag ? 
 
 PHCEBE. 
 
 Deuce take this Merrv Ander.
 
 182 
 
 DANCE. Air — The Hottentot-Dance. 
 
 Dr. Crotch's National Airs. 
 (During the dance Plutus draws Phosbe to one side of the 
 Scene, and Pandora entices Mercury to the other. — The 
 dance ends abruptly.) 
 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 PHCEBE. 
 
 Help, neighbours, help ! 
 
 MERCURY. 
 
 O save me from this fury. 
 
 BAUCIS. 
 
 A rape, a rape ! O for a judge and jury ! 
 
 PHILEMON. 
 
 Off with their masks. 
 
 PHILANDER. 
 
 Give chase, and clear for action. 
 
 PLUTUS, (to Phcebe.J 
 You strive in vain. 
 
 PANDORA, (to Mercury.) 
 
 I love you to distraction. 
 
 THYRSIS AND UCALEGON, (Wlthout.) 
 
 Hurrah ! hurrah !
 
 183 
 
 SCENE IX. 
 
 Enter Thyrsis, Ucalegon, and Myrtilla. 
 
 UCALEGON. 
 
 Och ! here's a fait to brag on. 
 
 THVRSIS. 
 
 Zooks ! here I be. 
 
 UCALEGON, 
 
 Aye, thanks to swait Ucalegon. 
 {Thunder and lightning, Jupiter and Mercury throxv off' 
 their disguise.) 
 
 JUPITER. 
 
 Peace, peace, ye ninnies — Cease to gape and wonder. 
 And hear your sentence from the God of Thunder, 
 
 FINALE. AiR — Rail no more ye learned Asses. 
 
 Vocal Music, or the Songster's Companion. 
 
 vol. i. p. 33. 
 Fear not, Baucis and Philemon, 
 
 This the Borough-Hall shall be : 
 For your bounty to the seamen. 
 
 You llife Mayor, the Mayoress she. —
 
 184 
 
 (During this song Mercury waves his caduceus, and the 
 Scene changes to a Guildhall. — Philemon is invested with 
 the insignia of his office, and Baucis throwing off her 
 upper garment, discovers a fantastic habit.) 
 
 When you've rul'd a twelve-month thorough. 
 
 Still to grace your native scenes. 
 Pride and worship of the Borough, 
 
 Here take root as Evergreens. 
 
 Grov'iing, grasping, grinding Plutus, 
 
 Hear though late our sovereign will : 
 For thy crimes nor rare nor new t' us. 
 
 Work henceforth a Paper-mill. 
 
 There with heart-corroding cankers. 
 
 Sort the rags, and dress the mould ; 
 Spreading pulp for luckier Bankers, 
 
 Starve 'mid substitutes for gold. 
 
 Thou, Pandora, thief and beggar. 
 Troll the ballad, cry the match ;
 
 185 
 
 And at night with drunken stagger 
 Spread thy charms at Bunter's hatch. 
 
 (Plutus and Pandora undergo a suitable metamorphosis.) 
 
 Captain, fear no more reverses. 
 
 Wrecks or storms, with Phoebe blest ; 
 
 Wed Myrtilla, silly Thyrsis ; 
 Honest teague, take all the rest. 
 
 (Ucalegon salutes all the ladies of the Chorus, who crowd 
 
 about him.) 
 
 Thus our justice and compassion 
 
 Here dispens'd in portions due. 
 We resume our former station. 
 
 And our Upstairs-Reign renew. 
 
 Mortals ! let not griefs and crosses 
 
 Rack your minds with useless care : 
 Life's a feast, and mirth its sauce is ; 
 
 We award each guest his share.
 
 186 
 
 CHORUS. 
 Life's a feast, and mirth its sauce is : 
 Here each guest shall take his share.
 
 VERSES 
 
 ADDRESSED TO A FRIEND, 
 
 ON HIS 
 
 LEAVING OXFORD, 
 
 WITH HIS FAMILY, IN APRIL, 1806,
 
 VERSES, kc. 
 
 Hail and farewell ! to parting worth adieu! 
 
 Where'er ye roam, propitious vows pursue ; 
 
 Peace ev'ry varying scene with bounty crown. 
 
 And mark your blissful mansion for her ':»wn. 
 
 There laughing hours shall wing their glad career. 
 There plenty swell the product of the year. 
 And ev'ry sun, that warms the western skies. 
 Sink, with redoubled blessings to arise ! 
 
 O ever priz'd, regretted, and rever'd. 
 By ev'ry rarer excellence endear'd. 
 Severe in Truth, benevolent of heart. 
 Mirth in your train, and social joys depart : 
 As some proud bark in orient trim array'd. 
 Wafts from Arabia's shore the costly trade,
 
 190 
 
 And o'er the flood for many a league exhales 
 
 Soft aromatic essence, as she sails. 
 
 Thus the fair wreaths around your brows entwin'd. 
 
 Leave as they pass a fragrant track behind ; 
 
 Pleas'd Isis scents the richness of the gale. 
 
 And bids your praise thro' all her shades prevail. 
 
 For oft' beneath your hospitable dome 
 
 Her sons enjoy'd a more convivial home. 
 
 Where mute reserve grew confident and free. 
 
 And moody care relented into glee. 
 
 There artless childhood with enticing wiles, 
 Lisp'd the warm welcome, and discours'd in smiles ; 
 Train'd to each liberal art, with courteous ease 
 The youthful throng, unbidden, strove to please ; 
 Whether they rous'd Caecilia's vocal peal. 
 Or skimm'd the sprightly mazes of the reel. 
 Or sketch'd with infant hand the bold design. 
 Each tuneful touch, light step, and faultless line. 
 An cfjual grace adorn'd, and early trac'd 
 The quick'ning seeds of Genius and of Taste.
 
 191 
 
 Such were the gems — her justly vaunted store — 
 Great Scipio's daughter, fair Corneha wore; 
 Sham'd and eclips'd Rome's envious matrons ey'd 
 Her sterhng wealth, that dimm'd their glittering pride. 
 
 Such too — blest guardians of a blooming race. 
 Such are the treasures that already grace 
 Your life's meridian, and await the close 
 With a rich balm to sweeten your repose. 
 
 Share then, with rev'rence share the precious meed. 
 To fond parental tenderness decreed : 
 Just is the meed ; your hands that till'd the soil. 
 Now reap the golden harvest of your toil. 
 Whose fruits in grateful recompense abound. 
 And all your earthly Paradise, around 
 Domestic joys diffuse. Nor lightly weigh 
 What else the tributary Muses pay 
 In virtue's score — a strain reserv'd for few — 
 Hail and farewell ! to parting worth adieu !
 
 A SONNET. 
 
 ADDRESSED TO 
 
 RICHARD CUMBERLAND, ESQ. 
 
 ON READING HIS MEMOIRS. 
 
 Mihi mens juveuili ardebat amore 
 
 Compellare vinim, & dextra; conjungere dextram. 
 
 ViRG. 
 
 As by the Sun's attractive force contrordj 
 Some nameless planet in its orbit strays. 
 And, at immeasurable distance roll'd. 
 Still feels the quick'ning influence of his rays : 
 E'en thus my Genius kindled into praise 
 Of all thy life's eventful scenes untold. 
 Steals a faint gleam emitted from their blaze. 
 Nor thou, thy Bard disdain ; nor rashly hold 
 His zeal presumption — nor his homage spurn, 
 Howe'er unprivileg'd thy worth to scan, 
 Worth that adorns the Poel and the Man, 
 Hereafter doom'd a nobler meed to earn : 
 But, ah ! neglected Cumberland, thy Fame 
 Can ne'er a thankless Age from infamy reclaim.
 
 193 
 A CARD OF INVITATION, 
 
 TO THE 
 
 REV. J. J. CONYBEARE, A. M. 
 
 ANGLO-SAXON PROFESSOR IN THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD. 
 
 Ad quae si properas gaudia, cum tu& 
 Velox merce veni : non ego te meis 
 Immunem meditor tingere poculis, 
 Plena dives ut in domo. 
 
 HoRAT. od. xii. lib. 4t, 
 
 I. 
 
 If pickled Pilchards, clouted cream. 
 Dory, or Mullet, be a theme 
 
 For a Professor's ear ; 
 If there's a charm in smuggled wines 
 For one who proudly quaffs and dines 
 With noble lords and rich divines 
 
 At Christ-Church half the year ; 
 II. 
 Then welcome, Conybeare ; for thou 
 Canst ease the heart, and smooth the brow. 
 
 That mock Leneean art.
 
 194 
 
 Nurs'd in one soil we flourished both, 
 Like brother saphns of a growth. 
 That spread their meeting arms, as loath 
 In riper age to part. 
 
 III. 
 Alike, but with unequal pace. 
 One classic path we lov'd to trace ; 
 
 Each breast one soul inform'd : 
 Joint minstrels of the selfsame rhyme. 
 We've trimm'd our taper from the chime 
 Of midnight to the matin prime. 
 
 With mutual rapture warm'd. 
 
 IV. 
 
 The maze of Fancy to pursue 
 Thy Genius lent the ready clewj 
 
 Or if I sketch'd the line. 
 Thy master hand reformed the thought. 
 Thy pencil to perfection wrought. 
 As when Creation sprung from nought 
 
 And felt the shock divine.
 
 195 
 
 V. 
 
 Then come. In truth it ill beseems 
 Thee to be scouring rusty themes : 
 
 To grace a brighter sphere. 
 Thy sterling wit from Attic store, 
 Howe'er alloy'd with Gothic lore. 
 Has purg'd the dross, but left the ore 
 
 To sparkle still more clear. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Not that in these Damnonian mines 
 Aught with a rival lustre shines ; 
 
 Or claims a kindred verse : 
 So, to be candid, come or not : 
 But should' st thou visit my poor cot. 
 That thou may'st duly pay thy shot, 
 
 " Put money in thy purse." 
 
 VII. 
 Think'st thou gratuitous to share 
 My lodging, and my dainty fare? 
 Go seek a wealthier host : 
 k2
 
 196 
 
 Let generous Chancellors afford 
 To Delegates the costly board ; 
 Here would'st thou feast, the reckoning's scor'd. 
 And thou must bear the cost. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 For Pilchards,* Hollybots, and Cream, 
 Three quires of prose ; of verse a ream. 
 
 For fire and habitation : 
 Item, for smuggled Port, a tome 
 Filch'd from Old Bodley's musty dome ; 
 For Capons, Knights and Squires of Rome jf 
 
 For Sauce, a Dedication. 
 
 * The provincial uame for Plaice. 
 
 t Octavian, Emperor of Rome ; a Romance abridged from a 
 MS. in the Bodleian Library, and dedicated to the Author by the 
 learned and ingenious Friend, who is the subject of the present 
 Invitation.
 
 WRITfEN ON AN ISLET [N NEWICK 
 
 PARK. 
 
 HANI. <l>IAOZnHAYrn. KAI. OYPEOOOITACI. NTMOAIC. 
 KAI. CATYPOIC. lEPAICT'. ENAON. AMAAPYACI. 
 
 To you, ye Mountain Nymphs and Sylvan Maids, 
 And Pan, the Monarch of these haunted shades. 
 
 I. 
 
 Say, Genii of the rural isle. 
 Where Art, to mimick Nature's smile 
 
 In miniature profuse. 
 Bids the luxuriant osiers grow. 
 And lilies from the stream below 
 
 Drink their essential juice : 
 
 II. I 
 
 There, emblem of Marcello's doom, 
 
 The Cystus sheds his early bloom 
 
 Ere half the germs unfold ; 
 Laburnum there, with graceful flow. 
 Affects the drooping guise of woe. 
 
 And weeps a shower of gold :* 
 
 * Alluding to the French name, Pluie d' or.
 
 198 
 
 III. 
 
 Say, why should Art conspire to trim 
 The velvet slope, the tufted rim. 
 
 Whose shrubs the waters kiss. 
 Unless to teach how small a scope 
 Might limit ev'ry mortal hope. 
 
 Yet hold a world of bliss ? 
 
 IV. 
 
 Here might not playful Fancy trace 
 
 The Empire of a Pigmy race, 
 
 Or Lilliputian Rule ? 
 Here mark a puny nation^s pride. 
 Their armies march, their navies ride. 
 
 The tyrants of a pool ? 
 
 V. 
 
 Beneath yon willow's weeping shade 
 
 A towering city boasts her trade. 
 
 Her opulence, and laws ; 
 Where cits grow proud, and lawyers prate. 
 And little Senates hold debate. 
 
 And Patriots court applause.
 
 199 
 
 VI. 
 
 Where Prelates arm in worldly fights, 
 And Slaves grow jealous of their rights, 
 
 And Faction wields the law ; 
 Where Ministers the Public drain. 
 And millions waste in one campaign. 
 
 To litigate a straw. 
 
 VII. 
 
 May no such guilt your haunts defile. 
 
 Sweet Genii of the Rural Isle, 
 
 Nor courts nor traffic stain j 
 For Men in islands great or small. 
 When Int'rest and Ambition call. 
 Become Creation's bane. 
 
 VIII. 
 Still be your shades with virtue blest. 
 
 And freedom, innocence, and rest 
 
 Adorn your harmless realm : 
 
 Still may your banks in peace survey 
 
 The little skiff, that steers her way. 
 
 Where youth directs the helm.
 
 THE SUICIDE, 
 
 FROM THE LATIN OF V. BOURNE. 
 
 — Quis euim invitum servare laboret? 
 
 HOR. 
 
 I. 
 
 Around in many a flutt'ring maze, 
 Lur'd by the lamp's attractive raya. 
 
 That shoot athwart the gloom. 
 And idly buzzing with surprise. 
 The silly Moth disporting flies. 
 
 Unconscious of his doom. 
 
 II. 
 
 Still as he skims the faithless light. 
 Oft I avert his giddy flight. 
 
 And pitying oft exclaim : 
 " Why would'st thou thus forestall the date 
 Of Death, that never comes too late 
 
 To light the funeral flame ?"
 
 201 
 
 III. 
 
 Headlong amid the torturing fires. 
 Behold, the heedless fool expires, 
 
 A self-devoted prey : 
 E'en thus the wretch unpitied dies. 
 Who deaf to Friendship's warning cries, 
 
 Persists in danger's way. 
 
 K 3
 
 THE WILD HYACINTH. 
 
 Tel en iiu secret vallon 
 Sur le bord d'une onde pure, 
 Croit & V abri de 1' aquilon 
 Un jeune lis, 1' amour de la nature. Racine. 
 
 I. 
 
 I N the deep-bosom'd forest that wraps the lone valley. 
 Where the Sun scant'ly glimmering checkers the green. 
 Scarce wav'd by the gales with her clusters that dally. 
 Though veil'd, the wild Hyacinth lurks not unseen. 
 
 II. 
 
 Not unseen, nor uncherish'd ; for who, that of Nature 
 
 Delights philosophic the moral to trace. 
 
 E'er priz'd the proud Oak, though majestic of stature. 
 
 So dear as the flow'ret that springs at his base ? 
 
 III. 
 
 Though firm are his roots to the centre descending. 
 
 Though his boughs to the welkin imperiously tower : 
 Yet his are the frowns on Ambition attending ; 
 But grace and humility blush in the flower.
 
 203 
 
 IV. 
 
 For mark, how unconscious of beauty's attraction, 
 The soft curling tresses and azure array. 
 How calm in denial, how modest in action. 
 She steals from the rude-wooing Zephyr away. 
 
 V. 
 
 Yet freely she quaffs of the dews of the morning. 
 
 Nor shrinks from the genial caresses of noon ; 
 While they with gay brilliants her chalice adorning. 
 Of sunshine and moisture contribute the boon. 
 
 VI. 
 
 For not by retreat, but disclosure engender'd. 
 
 Rich tints and fair verdure her blossoms attire j 
 
 As from praise well applied, and advice gently tender'd, 
 
 Unwilling reserve gathers strength to aspire. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Then let not the shades of obscurity smother 
 
 Those endowments, dear maid, you too faintly disclose : 
 Be diffident still; but be warn'd by a brother. 
 That ne'er without Sun the wild Hyacinth blows.
 
 PREFACE 
 
 TO THE 
 
 GREY GEESE OF ADDLESTROP HILL. 
 
 The following Ballad was written at Daylesford, the 
 residence of Warren Hastings, Esq. and was suggested 
 by the circumstance of his having removed a number 
 of large stones which lay in the neighbourhood, to 
 form the rock-work which adorns his grounds, fur- 
 nishing materials chiefly for a little island, and the 
 declivities of an artificial cascade. 
 
 iTiese stones, which are situated on the summit of a 
 hill in the parish of Addlestrop, in Gloucestershire, 
 near the point where it borders upon the three adjoin- 
 ing counties, have stood for time immemorial, and
 
 206 
 
 whether they owe their position to art or nature, ac- 
 cident or design, has never been decided ; but popular 
 tradition has afforded a ready solution of this doubt, 
 by ascribing their origin to enchantment. 
 
 It is accordingly pretended, that in days of yore, as 
 an old woman was driving her geese to pasture upon 
 Addlestrop hill, she was met by one of the weird Sisters, 
 who demanded alms, and upon being refused, con- 
 verted the whole flock into a heap of stones. 
 
 In relating this metamorphosis, no variation has been 
 made from the ancient legend, nor has any deviation 
 from truth been resorted to in the narration of their 
 subsequent history, farther than by attributing to the 
 magical completion of a fictitious prophecy, what was 
 in reality the effect of creative invention.
 
 Ci)e (E)rep (Seese of ^tilestrop 5>tU* 
 
 -Et me fecere poetara 
 
 Pierides; sunt et mihi carmina ; me quoque dicuut 
 Vatem pastores : sed non ego credulus illis. 
 Nam neque adhuc Vario videor, nee dicere Cinn^ 
 Digna, sed argutos inter strepere Anser ©lores. 
 
 Virgil. Eel, ix. v. 32, 
 
 I. 
 
 Beneath the grey shroud of a wintery cloud 
 
 The day-star dimly shone ; 
 And the wind it blew chill upon Addlestrop hill. 
 
 And over the Four-shire stone.
 
 208 
 
 II. 
 
 But the wind and the rain they threaten'd in vain ; 
 
 Dame AHce was up and away. 
 For she knew, to be healthy, and wealthy, and wise. 
 Was early to bed and early to rise. 
 
 Though never so foul the day. 
 
 III. 
 
 O foul was the day, and dreary the way ; 
 
 St. Swithin the good woman shield ! 
 For she quitted her bower in an evil hour 
 
 To drive her geese afield. 
 
 ly. 
 
 To rival this flock, howe'er they might mock. 
 
 Was never a wight could aspire ; 
 The Geese of Dame Alice bred envy and malice. 
 
 Through many a bordering shire. 
 
 V. 
 
 No wonder she eyed with delight and with pride 
 
 Their plumes of glossy grey ; 
 And she counted them o'er, and she counted a score. 
 
 And thus to herself 'gan say :
 
 209 
 
 VI. 
 
 " A score of grey geese at a groat* apiece 
 
 Makes six and eight-pence clear ; 
 Add a groat, 'tis enow to truck for a cow. 
 
 And I warrant we'll make good cheer. 
 
 VII. 
 . But ah ! welladay ! no mortal can say. 
 
 What fate and fortune ordain ; 
 Or Alice, I ween, had her loss foreseen. 
 
 Where most she look'd for gain. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 And didst thou not mark the warnings dark ? 
 
 'Twas all on a Friday morn. 
 She tripp'd unawares as she hurried down stairs. 
 
 And thrice was her kirtle torn. 
 
 * We are told that at an early period of our history a Goose 
 was sold for 3d. and a cow for 7s. The superiority of Dame 
 Alice's Geese in their pre-existent state, to judge of them by 
 their present size, must plead her excuse for estimating them at 
 a penny above the market price.
 
 210 
 
 IX. 
 
 And thrice by the way went the Gander astray. 
 
 Ere she reach'd the foot of the hill ; 
 And the Raven's croak from a neighbouring oak, 
 
 Proclaim'd approaching ill. 
 
 X. 
 
 And now, and O now had she climb'd the steep brow. 
 
 To batten her flock on the common. 
 When full in her path, to work her scath. 
 
 She met with a weird woman. 
 
 XI. 
 
 This Hag she was foul both in body and soul. 
 
 All wild and tatter'd in trim; 
 And pale was the sheen of her age-wither'd een ; 
 
 Was never a Witch so grim ! 
 
 XII. 
 And " Give me," quoth she, " of thy fair poultry. 
 
 Or dear shalt thou rue this day." 
 So hoarse was the note of the Beldam's throat. 
 
 That the Geese they hiss'd with dismay^
 
 211 
 
 XIII. 
 
 But the dame she was stout, and couldfleer and could flout, 
 
 " Gramercy ! good gossip," she cried ; 
 " Would ye taste of my fry, ye must barter or buy. 
 
 Though weal or woe betide. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 " 'Twere pity in sooth ye had but a tooth. 
 
 Ye should lack for a giblet to chew : 
 Belike of the claw, and the rump, and the maw, 
 
 A Hell-broth ye mean to brew." 
 
 XV. 
 
 O sour look'd the Hag, and thrice did she wag 
 
 Her hoar head scatter^ with snow ; 
 And her eye thro' the gloom of wrath and of rheum. 
 
 Like a comet, predicted woe. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 And anon she began to curse and to ban 
 
 With loud and frantic din ; 
 But the spell which she mutter'd, must never be utter'd. 
 
 For that were a deadly sin.
 
 212 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Then sudden she soars in the whirlwind, and roars 
 
 To the deep-voic'd thunder amain ; 
 And the Ughtning's glare envelopes the air. 
 
 And shivers the rocks in twain ! 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 But Alice she lay, 'mid the wrack and the fray, 
 
 Entranc'd in a deathhke swoon. 
 Till the sheep were in fold, and the curfew toll'd. 
 
 Ere yet she thought 'twas noon. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 And much did she muse at the cold evening dews. 
 That reflected the pale moon-beam ; 
 
 But more at the sight, that appeared by its light ; 
 And she counted it all a dream. 
 
 XX. 
 
 Oh ! what is yon heap, that peers o'er the steep, 
 'Mid the furze of the hawthorn glen ? 
 
 With trembling and fear the Dame she drew near. 
 And she knew her own Geese agen.
 
 213 
 
 XXI. 
 
 But, ah ! 'twas a sight of pity and fright. 
 
 As she number'd them one by one ; 
 All grisly they lay, and they lie to this day, 
 
 A flock, as it were, of grey stone ! 
 
 XXII. 
 
 " Thy birds are not flown,'' cried a voice to her moan ; 
 
 " Oh ! never again shall they fly. 
 Till Evenlode flow to the steeple at Stow, 
 
 And Oddington mount as high. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 " But here shall they stand, forlorn on dry land. 
 And parch in the drought and the blast. 
 
 Nor e'er bathe a feather, save in fog and foul weather. 
 Till many an age be past. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 " More fetter'd and bound than Geese in a pound. 
 
 Could aught their bondage atone. 
 They shall ne'er dread the feast of St. Michael at least. 
 
 Like Geese of flesh and bone.
 
 214 
 
 XXV. 
 
 ^' But pitying fate at length shall abate 
 
 The rigour of this decree ; 
 By the aid of a Sage in a far distant age. 
 
 And he comes from the East Country. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 " A Pundit his art to this seer shall impart ; 
 
 Where'er he shall wave his wand. 
 The hills shall retire, and the vallies aspire. 
 
 And the waters usurp the land. 
 
 XXVII. 
 " Then, Alice, thy flock their charm shall unlock, 
 
 And pace with majestic stride. 
 From Addlestrop heath to Daylesford beneath. 
 
 To lave in their native tide. , 
 
 XXVIII. 
 " And one shall go peep like an isle o'er the deep, 
 
 Another delighted wade. 
 At the call of this Wizard, to moisten her gizzard, 
 
 By the side of a fair cascade.
 
 215 
 
 xxrx. 
 
 " This Sage to a Dame shall be wedded, whose name 
 Praise, honour, and love shall command ; 
 
 By poets renown'd, and by courtesy crown'd 
 The Queen of that Fairy Land." 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Here ceas'd the high strain : but seek not in vain 
 
 To unravel the dark record : 
 Enough that ye wot, 'twas trac'd to the spot. 
 
 By a Clerk of Oxenford.
 
 PUG'S MASQUERADE; 
 
 A SEQUEL TO THE 
 
 PEACOCK AT HOME, 
 INSCRIBED TO MISS LOVIBOND. 
 
 With smiles qtioth Pug, " if pranks like these 
 Tlie giant-apes of reason please, 
 How would they wonder at our arts ! 
 They must adore U3 for our parts." 
 
 Gay, Fab. XL.
 
 PUG'S MASQUERADE. 
 
 The mirth and good breeding, the pomp and the state, 
 And the dainties display'd at Sir Argus's Fete, 
 By those who were present will ne'er be forgot. 
 But 'twas deeply resented by all who were not ; 
 And most by the Bat, of whose groundless pretension. 
 Not a soul but herself had vouchsafd to make mention ; 
 For they knew that her race was amphibious, her birth 
 Education and parentage, savour'd of Earth : 
 'Twas true she had wings ; but then who'd give one feather 
 For twenty such wings manufactur'd of leather? 
 Thus cross'd in her claims of aerial extraction. 
 She acted as chief of the opposite faction : 
 
 L 2
 
 220 
 
 Intent on revenge, all the day was she brewing 
 Dark plots, as she clung to the roof of a ruin ; 
 With the first dews of twilight she ventur'd to fly, 
 And arriv'd by short flits at a Forest hard by. 
 Where lately recall'd from his tour, in a pet. 
 Condescended to settle Sir Fop Marmoset, 
 A Monkey of promising parts ; but his Aunt, 
 Old Lady Baboon, was her chief confidant ; 
 " Dame Bat," quoth my Lady, " What news ? you look 
 
 moody— 
 " Still piqu'd at the Peacock's neglect, my dear goody ?" 
 " Eh ! ma foi c'est dommage," interrupted Sir Fop — 
 " I piqued?" cried the Bat, " 'twas a pitiful hop — 
 Besides, to haut ton what pretensions have I ? — 
 But for Apes to be rivall'd in fashion — O fie ! 
 My taste is Retreat — Dissipation your trade — 
 Come, what say ye both to a grand Masquerade ? 
 O think how 'twill ruffie each feather'd pretender. 
 When they hear of the fame which your triumphs en- 
 
 •render. 
 The Peacock's proud tail will shrink down to a Lizard's, 
 And the GooseandtheTurkey-cockfretin their gizzards.
 
 221 
 
 On his dunghill let crest-fallen Chanticleer crow. 
 Bat ne'er think to vie with a quadruped Beau." 
 Ne'er did Flattery fail in the purpose requir'd ; 
 With noble ambition Pug felt himself fir'd ; 
 Talk'd much of the Carnival, much of the Louvre, 
 Of music, snufF, painting. Von Trump and Von Couvre ; 
 Ahdvow'd he would shew — that he would, by St. Denis, 
 How these rnatters were order'd in France and at Venice. 
 
 In a word, all was fix'd : great arrangements were made. 
 And nothing was heard of but Pug's Masquerade. 
 But first 'twas agreed for the sake of fair play 
 ^Twixt the peaceable Tribes, and the Myriads of prey. 
 That the Lion should issue a strict proclamation. 
 For a truce to be sign'd throughout all the creation. 
 The Fox was the first to subscribe to the law. 
 And the Hind to the Panther presented a paw — 
 The Hound and the Stag become intimate friends, 
 And the Hare's universal acquaintance extends. 
 
 These matters adjusted, the cards flew by dozens. 
 To all of Cat-kin, to the ten hundredth cousins,
 
 222 
 
 I'or their's was blood-royal. — But what was most har(l> 
 'Twas thought useless to trouble the Bat with a card : 
 So the poor meddling fool, as will often befal. 
 After cringing to both, was discarded by all : 
 Besides, she was shunn'd as an evil-foreboder ; 
 And the Stoat and the Badger were both in bad odour. 
 
 Poor Dor was condemn'd as a mouse of no soul. 
 And the Sloth was best pleas'd to be left in his hole. 
 Some objected the Hedge-hog was apt to be rough. 
 Though the Porcupine's quill might be polish'd enough : 
 He was hufF'd that his kinsman was treated so ill. 
 So shot back the card that they sent, on a quill. 
 John Bull was invited, but swore they might ask 
 Long enough, ere he'd caper about in a mask — 
 He detested all kind of disguise, for his part. 
 And would wear his own face — 'twas the pledge of his 
 heart. 
 
 His Lady alledg'd her accouchment drew near. 
 
 Were neither as yet of an age to appear. 
 
 Andher daughter Miss Heifer, and young MasterSteer, ?•
 
 223 
 
 Mrs. Sow lay in straw, but had open'd her sty 
 To inspect the stray masks, as they chanc'd to pass by ; 
 'Twas a tiny boudoir, rather straighten'd for room. 
 Where she welcom'd her guests in a Chinese costume ; 
 While her new-htter'd brood made a marvellous show. 
 Like so many Josses, all squat in a row. 
 But the grand Rendezvous was a Terrace, that stood 
 Round about a wide plain, that was circled with wood. 
 Like a vast amphitheatre — straight from whose centre 
 An avenue branch'd, where they all were to enter : 
 There spruce Marmoset, with a reverence due, 
 Receiv'd all his friends, as they made their debut. 
 In a suit — to exhibit a greater display — 
 Precisely the same as depicted by Gay ; 
 The same Bag and Sword, and the well-powder'd hair. 
 And the Chapeau de bras, and the black Solitaire : 
 As for mask, he wore none, as befitted his post ; 
 For that night he enacted the part of mine host. 
 But my Lady Baboon in a drap'ry of Shawl, 
 Like the great Munny Begum arriv'd from Bengal, 
 Sat thron'd on a Cushion for pomp and repose. 
 With a Fan in her hand, and a Ring at her nose :
 
 224 
 
 To her all the company bovv'd as they pass'd ; 
 
 But their names to recount from the first to the last. 
 
 How all were accoutred, what each represented. 
 
 Were a task, if endeavour'd, might well be repented : 
 
 Such motley disguises would surely perplex 
 
 Linnaeus himself to determine their sex; 
 
 And their tongues to interpret, their morals explain. 
 
 Might puzzle the wit of unrivall'd Fontaine. 
 
 But to follow the list handed down by tradition — 
 
 The Lion first honour'd this grand exhibition ; 
 
 But not in full state ; for the Crown, and the Globe, 
 
 And the Sceptre that night, and the long-flowing robe. 
 
 Were consign'd to the Ass, who, erecting his ears. 
 
 Appeared as King Midas just fresh from the sheers. 
 
 The Monarch himself, with his royal relation. 
 
 Prince Leopard, of course came by self-invitation, 
 
 In Vizors of gold, and fine Turbans array'd. 
 
 And in rich purple Dominos fac'd with Brocade, 
 
 The Elephant copied his mask from a Bramin, 
 
 But was much at a loss his proboscis to cram in. 
 
 Which aside like the tube of a Hookah he twirl'd. 
 
 And emitted a puff, that might stifle the world.
 
 225 
 
 From far Abyssinia the Camelopard 
 
 Came post ; for the Camel had carried the card ; 
 
 Who now took the garb of a Pilgrim from Mecca — 
 
 An astonishing change since the days of Rebecca ! 
 
 The Colt represented an unbridled rake. 
 
 Who in spite of the manege, the bit, and the break, 
 
 Rush'd in neck or nothing ; for why ? 'twas his fate 
 
 To be born to a Title and landed estate ; 
 
 Was fam'd on the turf, of his pedigree proud. 
 
 And bragg'd of the smiles of the ladies aloud : 
 
 He had broke from his stall on the banks of the Cam, 
 
 And for Tutor consulted his Valet de Cham. 
 
 His Tutor, the Goat, who to fill up his train 
 
 Had been pranc'd over Europe and kick'd back agai 
 
 Was content to look grave, for remonstrance was vain 
 
 'Twas no fault of his, if his pupil was vicious. 
 
 He stuck to his charge, tho' by nature capricious, 
 
 And still persever'd in the hope, that his vails 
 
 Ere long would be paid by preferment in Wales. 
 
 The Mouse of the Town, a well-known Macaroni, 
 Presented the Shrew-mouse once more as his crony ; 
 
 l3 

 
 226 
 
 They had tippled so freely, that both being hocky, 
 Reel'd in like his Grace arm-in-arm with his Jockey; 
 When who to their utter amazement should stalk in. 
 But puss, in the shape of Miss Tabby Grimalkin — 
 The hoop, the stiff stays, and the ruffles she wore, 
 Proclaim'd her a Maid at the verge of three score : 
 Now doom'd in the shades evermore to drive apes 
 She rail'd at Mankind like the Fox at the grapes. 
 But scarce had she enter'd, when lo ! in a trice 
 She was eyed and detected by both of the mice : 
 The alarm was soon spread to their kindred the Rats, 
 And they squeak'd in full chorus " Confusion to Cats.^ 
 The Wolf thought he made a most excellent stroke. 
 In borrowing little Red-riding-hood's cloak ; 
 When in spite of his basket of cheesecakes, the sham 
 Was expos'd at first sight by a crafty old Ram. 
 But the Lynx with his shrewd diplomatical eyes. 
 Had pierc'd through the veil of each flimsy disguise. 
 And cxplain'd with the air of a French politician. 
 Their relations, alliances, plots, and position. 
 But who are yon valorous Chiefs that advance. 
 Like Arthur of England, and Roland of France ?
 
 227 
 
 ^Tis the Knight of Brazil, the renown'd Armadillo, 
 Sir Rhinoceros too, who for love wears the willow ; 
 A she Cangaroo was the prize of the field ; 
 So they both couch'd their lances and jousted and wheel'd : 
 While Bruin the Bear, and Mynheer from Westphalia, 
 Were equipp'd as Esquires in their paraphernalia : 
 And long might these worthies have hugg'd and have 
 
 hustled. 
 But the music struck up ; so away they all bustled. 
 Aloft on a mound the Orchestra was rear'd. 
 Where ranged in their ranks the musicians appearM j 
 The Bear blew the bag-pipe, the Boar the bassoon. 
 And the little pig's fife was in exquisite tune : 
 But the great Sieur Matou with his high-diddle-diddle. 
 Had brought his own cat-gut and play'd the first fiddle. 
 A Caricaturist, who peep'd through a loop. 
 With his graver immortal has etch'd the whole group.* 
 A young Lioness waving the court etiquette, 
 Deign'd to open the ball with Sir Fop Marmoset. 
 The minuet clos'd, crowds of couples advance. 
 In the reel and the valtz, and the gay country dance. 
 
 * Vide Hogarth's orchestra.
 
 2'28 
 
 Shock perform'd a pas seul with immortal eclat ; 
 But the Kid's cotillion, and the Fawn's entrechat. 
 Thy Gavotte, La Gazelle ! and Du Chevre's chasse. 
 Are feats that resound in the w oods to this day. 
 Brother Reynard meanwhile had retir'd from the press. 
 And accepted the Elephant's challenge at chess. 
 In the robes of a learned King's Counsel array'd. 
 If he cheated, 'twas all in the way of his trade j 
 So he shuffled his moves both above and beneath, 
 And checkmated the Elephant 'spite of his teeth. 
 But my grave Lord Chief Justice, Sir Ourang Outang, 
 O'erlook'd the sly thief, whom he sentenc'd to hang. 
 
 Just then a mix'd din that out-roar'd that of Babel, 
 Announc'd that the Supper was plac'd upon table : 
 The Turn-spit, lest such an occasion should lapse. 
 Had acted as Cook, with an eye to the scraps. 
 But a royal Pavilion of state had been rear'd 
 By the architect Beaver, and in it appear'd, 
 Prepar'd by the Jackall, a separate treat 
 For the Lion, and those of his majesty's suite : 
 There Pidcock, alas ! unless Chronicles fable. 
 Like an Ox roasted whole was the prime dish at table j
 
 229 
 
 Now Hell's triple-headed Molossus he feeds^ 
 
 While prancinjr with beef-eaters, trumpets, and steeds. 
 
 To his mortal Menagerie triumphant succeeds 
 
 Great Signor Polite — but reader forbear. 
 
 Nor attempt to unravel the black bill of fare. — 
 
 Nay, such was the general scramble that followed. 
 
 The whole, ere the Muse could record it, was swallow'd^ 
 
 Tho' the remnants, if any remain'd from their pickings. 
 
 Were chiefly the bones of grown fowls, and of chickens; 
 
 For these gluttons had carried their envy so fai'. 
 
 As e'en after death with their rivals to war: 
 
 The Cat was content for that night with small fowl. 
 
 Though she envied the barbecued mouse of the Owl ; 
 
 And the Fox, who gain'd most by the terms of the truce* 
 
 Declar'd he could sup ev'ry night upon Goose : 
 
 Not so the gaunt Wolf, who beginning to put on 
 
 A look that declar'd much in favour of mutton. 
 
 Was a hint broad enough for the Lamb to slink off: 
 
 An act of distrust that caus'd many a scoff: 
 
 The Lev'ret went next, and the Greyhound pursu'd. 
 
 So the Truce was infring'd, and a panic ensu'd — 
 
 In a trice all was noise, consternation, and haste. 
 
 And away went the chasers, and those who were chas'd;
 
 230 
 
 But muffled and clogg'd with the trappings they bore. 
 The rogues could do httle but rumble and roar. 
 
 A few graver animals blam'd this proceeding. 
 As a breach of morality, fahh, and good breeding ; 
 And from all that was done, and from all that was said. 
 Collected this caution from Pug's Masquerade. 
 
 MORAL. 
 
 They who herd with rough Brutes, must their rough- 
 ness endure, 
 " La raison du plus fort est toujovirs la meilleure."
 
 THE 
 
 ANT AND THE CRICKET^ 
 
 FROM LA FONTAINE; 
 
 ADDRESSED TO A FRIEND. 
 
 Nuit et jour a tous venants 
 Je chantois, ne vous deplaise. 
 Vons chantiez ? j'en suis fort aise, 
 Allez, dansez maintenant. 
 
 Who claims a Patron, must produce 
 Some proof that he can be of use ; 
 Or feel his nose put out of joint. — 
 La Fontaine puts a case in point. 
 
 A Cricket all the summer long. 
 Like me, had chirp'd an idle song ;
 
 9,32 
 
 And found himself in desperate plight. 
 When Autumn's blasts began to bite : 
 Of every single scrap bereft. 
 Not even a gnat's pinion left. 
 
 His next door neighbour was an Ant : 
 Of her he begs, for very want, 
 A short supply, till fairer weather. 
 Just to keep life and soul together: 
 And vow'd upon his faith and credit — 
 A solemn pledge although he said it — 
 Ere next September, without fail. 
 He'd pay her down upon the nail. 
 
 This Ant had one, and but one fault. 
 By some indeed a virtue thought. 
 She was — and that past all amending — 
 Inflexibly averse to lending. 
 And " Pray," quoth she, " my worthy sir, 
 What plea for aid can you prefer ? 
 Doubtless you labour'd all the spring.'* 
 " Faith I did nothing else but sing ;
 
 233 
 
 And where *s the offence ?" " O none whatever ; 
 Sung all the Spring ! 'twas vastly clever: 
 And now, with even less offence. 
 You may as gaily caper hence." 
 
 With much the same pretensions you. 
 Or, I to P*** might sue. 
 " Dear sir, consider of my case : 
 Give me a Seat, a Pension, Place, 
 I promise, if there's faith in man. 
 To pay."—" But how ?" " Why, how I can. 
 By Pamphlet, Pasquin, or Review." 
 " We have bards and critics not a few : 
 Speak, and we'll see what we can do." 
 " I speak, alas!" " Nay, if you can't. 
 Adieu ! you're not the man we want." 
 
 Now I like any Cricket sing. 
 And you can dance like any thing : 
 Bravo! dear Dick. But, should we spout, 
 Jack F*** beats us out and out. 
 
 }
 
 IMITATION OF HORACE, 
 
 EPISTLE X. 
 
 ADDRESSED TO 
 
 JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ. 
 
 BAKRISTER AT LAW,
 
 IMITATION OF HORACE. 
 
 Accept, dear Boswell, you who haunt the Town, 
 This salutation from a Country Clown : 
 For, though at issue on this point, we square 
 In all besides, and tally to a hair ; 
 Each to the same prevailing bias leans. 
 Like to a pair of loving^ Mandarins, 
 Which on the Mantel station'd side by side. 
 Both so devoutly seem to coincide, 
 
 Urbis amatorem Fuscum salvere jubemus 
 Ruris amatores ; hkc in re scilicet unS. 
 Multum dissiniiles, ad caetera pene gemelli- 
 Fratemis animis qnicquid negat alter, et alter : 
 'Annuimus pariter, vetuli notique columbi;
 
 238 
 
 That, breathe a whisper, or discuss a feather, 
 They nod, or shake their sapient heads together. 
 But here we drop the simile, for you 
 Still keep your smoky tenement in view ; 
 While I, by purling brook, and flowery dale, 
 A pure unclouded element inhale. 
 What would you more } 'tis my transcendant Id 
 To live, to reign, the monarch of my cot ; 
 Supremely blest in ignorance and want 
 Of that, on which with rapture you descant : 
 As the poor" 'prentice who his trade forsook. 
 Tempted erewhile to serve a pastry-cook, 
 *Till gorg'd and surfeited with sweets, he fled 
 To make his meal upon a crust of bread. 
 
 Tu uidum servas ; ego laudo ruris amoeni 
 Rivos, ct miisco circumlita saxa, nemusque. 
 Quid quaeris ? vivo et regno, siniul ista reliqui 
 Quae vos ad coelurn effertis clamore secundo : 
 Utque'' sacerdotis fugitivus liba recuso ; 
 Pane egeo, jam mellitis potiore placentis. 
 Vivere naturae si convenienter oportet, 
 Ponendaeqne domo qnaerenda est area primiini,
 
 ^239 
 
 Would you in peace and comfort live, be wise. 
 And do as Nature and plain Sense advise : 
 First chuse a soot with air and elbow-room ; 
 There build your house, secure of healthful bloom, — 
 " What ! quit my chambers ? burn my books ? and dwell 
 For ever in the country ?" — Where so well ? 
 Where lowers the brow of Winter less austere ? 
 Or where more mildly glows the sultry year ? 
 There no ambitious phantoms interpose. 
 To break the rest which toil to nature owes : 
 Say, do the Naiads of the Fount, who sport 
 * And squirt through leaden pipes in Garden-court, 
 So sweetly murmur, as the crystal rills. 
 That gush spontaneous from their native hills ? 
 
 Novistine locum potiorem rure beato ? 
 
 Est ubi pins tepeant hyemes ? ubi gratior aura 
 
 Leniat et rabiem Canis, et momenta Leonis, 
 
 Cum senicl accepit solem furibundus acutum ? 
 
 Est ubi divellat somnos minus invidia cura? 
 
 Deterius Libycis olet aut nitet herba lapillis ? 
 
 « Purior in vicis aqua tendit rumpere plumbum, 
 
 Quam quae per pronum trepidat cum murmure rivwm?
 
 240 
 
 Or vies the flinty pavement with the mead. 
 Sweet to the scent, elastic to the tread. 
 Oft as you trudge, amid th' incessant jar. 
 To Westminster, and back to Temple-Bar ? 
 
 Nature triumphant o'er fastidious Art, 
 Though elbow'd out, will still assert her part ; 
 Rallies, though oft repuls'd, and takes her stand. 
 Where'er she finds a vacant inch of land : 
 * Where poplars rang'd along suburban walls. 
 Shut out the odious prospect of St. Paul's : 
 Or where the Cit, by her inspir'd to set 
 His stingy, starv'ling, stint of mignonette. 
 Snatches a precious glimpse of something green 
 Through dim eclipse of sooty sashes seen. 
 
 Not so the Courtier's gay viranda's face. 
 South to the Park, or north from Portland-place ; 
 
 Naturam expellas fiire^, tanien usque recurret, 
 Et mala permmpet sensim fastidia victrix : 
 * Nempe inter varias mitritur sylva columnas,
 
 241 
 
 Thence oft with keener optics he suppHes 
 
 The wear and tear of diplomatic eyes: 
 
 With what judicious poise the tube he points. 
 
 Varies the focus, and adjusts the joints. 
 
 Extends, diminishes, and shifts at will, 
 
 " From Hampstead Bowers aloft to Highgate Hill ; 
 
 And, leering through the speculative glass. 
 
 Ogles the Hamadryads, as they pass ! 
 
 Lo ! too with pious heed the Senate plants 
 
 Near William's Hall Egeria's sylvan haunts; 
 
 Where now the pensive Nymph auspicious waits 
 
 To prosper Parliamentary debates. 
 
 Prompting each grave Pompilius of the nation. 
 
 With patriotic schemes of Reformation : 
 
 This votes a vista ; that industrious hunts 
 
 For antique precedents — or Gothic fronts ; 
 
 Levels a church — abolishes a place — 
 
 And Science, Taste, and Politics embrace. 
 
 All this, my learned friend, directly proves 
 
 The exclusive risrht and title of the Groves : 
 
 Laudaturque donius,' longos qua; prospicit agros. 
 
 M
 
 242 
 
 For to what issue tend the boasted arts 
 Which Court or City-residence imparts? 
 ^ Bassus, who late with analytic taste 
 Of mingled wines the separate flavour trac'd ; 
 Could name the clime and vintage of the grape, 
 Blindfold, unaided by the bottle's shape. 
 Died of a plethora. — The world may lay 
 The blame, alas ! to knowledge of Tocay. 
 * Timon the rich, whose trade's extensive range. 
 Dubs him to-day, the oracle of 'Change, 
 Deep in the Funds contracts for half the loan ; 
 To-morrow Bankrupt — cash and credit flown — 
 With loss of life, the forfeit of Success 
 He weighs, and values e'en existence less : 
 Victim to gold, o'erlooks the golden mean ; 
 And — Ah ! forbear to paint the closing scene ! 
 
 'Non qui Sidouio contendere callidus ostro 
 Nescit Aquinatcm potantia vellera fiicuni, 
 Certiiis acccpit damnum piopiusve meduUis, 
 Quam qui non poterit veto distingueie falsum. 
 EQuem res plus nimio delectavere secundae, 
 Mutata; quaticnt ; Siquid mirabere, pones
 
 243 
 
 The thirst of Riches, and the thirst of Fame, 
 Are much aUke : they differ but in name, 
 Who slaves to title, or to cent, per cent. 
 Die disappointed, or live discontent. 
 Ah ! fly the tempting bait. These calm resorts. 
 Though poor, surpass the pride of envious courts 
 The courts of monarchs, and the courts of law. 
 Alike their votaries to dependence draw. 
 The Stag and Courser, as the story goes. 
 About a right of Common came to blows ; 
 The Horse was worsted in the strife, and ran 
 In evil hour, to beg the aid of Man : 
 The event was evident : He bore the sway 
 Of bit and bridle to his dying day. 
 
 Invitus. Fnge magna licet sub paupere tecto 
 Reges et regum vit& praecurrere amicos. 
 Cervus equum pugna melior communibus herbis 
 Pellebat, donee minor in certamine longo 
 Imploravit opes Hominis, fraenumque recepit; 
 Sed postquam Victor violens discessit ab hoste, 
 Non equitem dorso, non frasnum depulit ore. 
 
 m2
 
 244 
 
 You Lawyers thus for glory barter ease ; 
 
 '' Saddled with briefs, and spurr'd with tickling fees. 
 
 And stretching for the Woolsack from afar. 
 
 Pant on the circuit, founder at the bar. 
 
 The shoe that galls and pinches, when too small, 
 
 If stretch'd too wide, will slip — and down you fall : 
 
 Could you but once the just dimensions hit. 
 
 The closer to the foot, the better fit. 
 
 Forgive my freedom, Bozzy, that I crack 
 
 The lash of Satyr thus about your back? 
 
 If e'er in Fortune's track you catch me tripping, 
 
 You're fully welcome to retort the whipping. — 
 
 So fare-you-well : Such greeting 's well enough, 
 
 From me, a moping, melancholy Chough, 
 
 Sic qui panperiera veritns potiore metallis 
 Libertate caret** dominum vehet itnprobiis, atqne 
 Serviet Beternura, quia parvo nesciet uti 
 Cui non conveniet sua res, ut calcens olim, 
 Si pede major erit subvertet, si minor uret. 
 Laetus sorte tua vives sapienter, Aristi ; 
 $)ec me dimittes incastigatnm ubi plnra
 
 245 
 
 Who date my letter from' St. Michaers mount. 
 And less on your's than on my own account, 
 (Never so sad, as when so far apart) 
 Wish you and Humphry* here, with all my heart. 
 
 Cogere quam satis est, et non cessare videbor. 
 Imperat aut sei'vit coUecta pecunia cuiqne, 
 Tortum digna sequi potius quam vellere fitncm. 
 Haec tibi dictabam post fanum putre ' Vacunze, 
 Excepto quod non simul esses, ceetera leetus. 
 
 • Humphry Donaldson, Esq. of Whitehall.
 
 IMITATION 
 
 OF THE 
 
 EIGHTH EPISTLE OF HORACE; 
 
 ADDRESSED TO A FRIEND. 
 
 With remnants of Latin to welcome tlie Vicar. 
 
 To domestic Chaplain once. 
 
 And ^Secretary for the nonce. 
 One of the few in Fortune's book, 
 Who without flattery serv'd a ''Duke, 
 Conimend me. Muse : and bid him thrive. 
 If haply he can so contrive. 
 
 Celso gaudere, et bene rem gerere Albinovano 
 Musa rogata refer, coniiti* scribaeq; '' Neronis 
 Si queerat quid agam^ die multa & pulcra miuantem 
 Vivere nee recte nee suaviter, baud quia grando 
 Contuderit vites, oleamve momorderit acstus ; 
 Nee quia longinquis armentum a^grotet in arvis. 
 Sed quia raente minus validus, qiiam corpore toto, 
 Nil audire velim, nil discere, quod level spgrura,
 
 247 
 
 Hard times ! and yet a single man 
 
 With just twelve hundred pounds per ann. 
 
 A good fat glebe, and surplice fees. 
 
 May still live somewhat at his ease. 
 
 Say, should he ask you how I fare, 
 
 I'm building castles in the air ; 
 
 Live, move, and breathe : and when that's said. 
 
 Might, but for that, as well be dead, 
 
 " What ! do his creditors importune ^ 
 
 Or has he wench'd away his fortune ? 
 
 Or drunk, if dry ? or drawn a blank ?" 
 
 " He neither gam'd, nor whor'd, nor drank." 
 
 " Why then he's sick." — " You've hit the nail; 
 
 And most, alas! where doctors fail : 
 
 Sick of himself, in mind diseas'd; 
 
 For ever shifting, never pleas'd : 
 
 Quits'^ Town for "^Brighton, thence in quest 
 
 Of shelter, flies from South to West : 
 
 Fidis ofFeiular 'medicis, irascar amicis, 
 
 Cur me fuuesto properent arcere veterno : 
 
 Quae nocuere, sequar ; tugiani quae profore credani, 
 
 'Romae "Tibur aoieni ventosus, Tibure Romain. 
 
 Post haec, ut valeat, qH5 pacto rem gerat &: se,
 
 248 
 
 Grows a mere Chough ; denouncing thos* 
 Who best advise, as bitterest foes : 
 Sends Kidd"" and Bailhe^ to perdition. 
 And daily fees some new physician." 
 This said, be sure you next inquire. 
 How stands the Rector with the ^Squire, 
 Wlicther the ^Parish seem content. 
 Or grumble at their Tithes and Rent. 
 If neither give him cause to grieve. 
 Then wish him joy, and take your leave. 
 But whisper first — though to say true, — 
 
 None need the warning less than , 
 
 " Would you, dear , your friends preserve. 
 
 Ne'er from an even temper swerve. 
 
 With them your thouglits, your fortune share. 
 
 And be the man you always were." 
 
 Ut placeat*^ jnveni percoiitare, utque^ cohort!. 
 Si dicet, lecte : piimuni gaudere ; subinde 
 Pra^ceptum auiicnlis hoc instillare memento. 
 Ut tu fortunam, sic nos te, Celse, feremus.
 
 TO JULIUS FLORUS, 
 
 IN ALLUSION TO THE 
 
 THIRD EPISTLE OF HORACE. 
 
 r LORUS, I long, might I so far presume. 
 To learn the topics of your Common-room : 
 Whether you follow Massena's retreat 
 O'er Lusitania's geographic sheet ; 
 And trace victorious Wellington's campaign. 
 Far as Oporto, from the bounds of Spain ; 
 Or with our Cruizers sail along the chart. 
 Convoy the Trader to the destin'd mart ; 
 Or Britain's eastern provinces survey. 
 And touch at Bourbon's Island in your way. — 
 
 'JuLi Flore, quibus terrarum militet oris 
 
 Claudius Augusti privignus scire laboro ; 
 
 Thracaiie vos, Hebrusque nivali corapede vinctus 
 
 An fieta vicinas inter currentia turres 
 
 M 3
 
 250 
 
 *Fain would I know what deeds awake to song 
 
 In Wolsey's learned bower the tuneful throng : 
 
 Which of your quire records in Epic strain 
 
 Our reverend Monarch's memorable reign. 
 
 An age of Jubilee? — Just Heaven extend 
 
 The threaten'd term ! — Our King, our Sire befriend ! 
 
 We kiss the Sceptre, which our foes hath awed. 
 
 At home an Olive-rod, a Thunder-bolt abroad. 
 
 *But say, what news of Celsus ? Him shall Fame 
 
 Ere long illustrate by a brighter name : 
 
 A Genius cast in Nature's fairest mould. 
 
 Perception quick. Imagination bold, 
 
 A Taste correct, of Wit a sparkling vein, 
 
 A Memory deep, and constant to retain. — 
 
 Enrich'd with all the treasures of a mine. 
 
 He woos no Muse, a recreant to the nine. 
 
 Or but with foreign incense heaps the shrine : 
 
 An pingiies Asiae campi coUesque morantur. 
 
 •"Quid studiosa cohors juveriuin struit? haec quoque euro ; 
 
 Quis sibi res gestas August! seribere sumit? 
 
 Bella quis et paces longum ditfundit in aevuni ? 
 
 'Quid milii Celsus agit? monitus niultumque nioneudus 
 
 ]
 
 251 
 
 Yet greet him fair ; but warn him o'er and o'er. 
 As I have oft admonish'd him before. 
 From Bodley's dross and rubble to refrain. 
 And coin to cash his own pure-metall'd brain. 
 
 •"Lest, on some luckless day, there flock together 
 Birds of all flights, of every note and feather. 
 Proven 9als, Scalds, Monks, Minstrels, Troubadours, 
 Who pecking out his borrow'd plumes by scores 
 Shall leave him bare, and in as raw a state. 
 As any fresh-pluck'd Under-graduate. — 
 
 •"Not least, though latest, let me next inquire 
 What themes your pencil or your pen inspire: 
 For both, though rivals in the graphic art. 
 Content the palm of victory to part, 
 
 Privatas ut quaerat opes, et tangere vitet 
 Scripta, Palatinus queeciinque recepit Apollo : 
 ••Ne, si forte siias repetitiim venerit olim 
 Grex avium plumas, moveat Cornicula risiim 
 Furtivis uudata coloribus. '^Ipse quid audes?
 
 252 
 
 Like sister Bees around Apollo's bovver. 
 Together toil, and rifle ev'ry flower. 
 
 'Say, do you tune with more than Pindar's fire 
 To Runic rhymes the Caledonian lyre ? 
 Or arm your heroes with dramatic rage. 
 To fret, and strut their hour upon the stage ? 
 Bold as the Theban, but more wise, you spurn 
 The foggy lakes, yet not fastidious turn 
 From healthier rivers, at whose social brink, 
 Saxons and Northern Picts united drink : 
 Hail to the Bard, in whose poetic creed 
 Isis and Cliarwell's classic banks precede 
 Pindar's Alpheus, Scot's enchanting Tweed ! 
 Not like the Arabian Patriarch, he leaves 
 The land of Porridge for the land of Beeves, 
 Oat-cakes for commons ; plaid for sable crape ; 
 His very Bonnet takes a Trencher's shape : 
 
 Quae circum-volitas agilis thy ma? — 
 '^Piiidarici fontis qui non expalluit haustii?, 
 Fastidire lacus, ot rivos ausus apertos, 
 Ut vakt, ut uicminit nostri? rKHbiisue Latiiii.«'
 
 253 
 
 Well-breech'd, and button'd close from hip to leg, 
 
 " A fig," (luolh lie, « for Pouch and Fillibeg^" 
 
 Enough — enough ! However prone to blend 
 
 Satire with mirth, I mean not to offend : 
 
 You know my heart; if I have err'd in aught. 
 
 Forgive the trespass, give it not a thought : 
 
 But come, for come you must, though plac'd as wide. 
 
 As Thule's cliffs from Fal's* deserted tide, 
 
 (Where now, alas! no packets put to sea. 
 
 But howl, like Tyrians at the tradeless quay.) 
 
 ^ril feast my Prodigal, come when you will. 
 
 And strain my purse the fatted calf to kill. 
 
 Thebanos aptare modos studet auspice Mus&, 
 An tragic^ desavit et ampullatur in arte ? — 
 *Pascitur in vestrum reditum votiva juvenca. 
 
 • The author takes this occasion, with respectful deference to 
 those with whom the remedy lies, to represent the daily ruin of 
 individuals, and as he conceives, the serious disadvantage to 
 public service, resulting from the removal of the Government 
 Packets from Falmouth harbour : and for better authority than 
 his own on this subject, refers his readers to a pamphlet entitled, 
 " A Letter on the extension of the Naval Establishment : Fal- 
 mouth Harbour, &c. By a Captain in the Royal Navy." Hat- 
 chard, 1810.
 
 IMITATION 
 
 OF THE 
 
 FOURTH EPISTLE OF HORACE, 
 
 ADDRESSED TO 
 
 RICHARD EDENSOR HEATHCOTE, ESQ. 
 
 CONDOVER PARK, SALOP. 
 Memor 
 
 Actae Dou alio Rege puertiai 
 Mutataeque simul togas. 
 
 Dear Heathcote, ever wont to blend. 
 The Critic with the partial friend. 
 Say, do'st thou bid thy pipe resound. 
 As* Shenstone erst, the Wrcckin round : 
 And teach thy Pegasus to gallop 
 Over the hills and dales of ""Salop ; 
 
 *Albi nostrorum sermonum candide judex 
 Quid nunc te dicam facerc in regione'' Pedana 
 Scribere quod^ Cassi Parmensis opuscula viucat?
 
 ^55 
 
 Or wrapt in silent shades explore 
 The paths of philosophic lore ? 
 Or, mounted on some earth-born steed. 
 For horns renounce the Doric reed ? 
 Sure thou hast too much genuine fire. 
 To sink into*^ the Country Squire : 
 The Fates to thy deserts have given 
 The choicest blessings under Heaven ; 
 Health, Friends, and Affluence ; the Art, 
 Without profusion to impart ; 
 A liberal hand, a glowing heart : 
 Nature to these a manly frame. 
 The Muse hath added classic fame ; 
 Of wit and eloquence a stoi'e : 
 What would our "^Alma Mater more. 
 Feel then thy level, and disdain. 
 Each grov'hng joy, and paltry pain ; 
 
 An taciturn silvas inter reptare salubres 
 Curantem qnicquid dignum sapiente, bonoque ? 
 Non tu= corpus eras sine pectore, Di tibi formam, 
 Di tibi divitias dederunt, artemq; fruendi. 
 Quid voveat dulci <* Nutricula m^us Alurano 
 
 ]
 
 256 
 
 And keep, whatever intervenes, 
 
 A state proportion'd to thy means. 
 
 In calculating Life's amount. 
 
 Think every day will close the account ; 
 
 And should an overplus remain, 
 
 ^Tis clear unestimated gain. 
 
 When tir'd of too much sober sense. 
 
 Come here and laugh at my expence. 
 
 Thou'lt find, though sorely out of feed, 
 
 A pig of Epicurus' breed ; 
 
 In short, old Horace to a tittle. 
 
 Ere he grew fat, and full of victual. 
 
 Qui sapere & fari possit, quae sentiat, & cui 
 Gratia, fama, valetudo contingat abundd. 
 Et niundus victus, non deficientc crumenl? 
 Inter spem, curamq; timores inter & iras, 
 Oninem crede diem tibi diluxisse supreinum : 
 Grata superveniet quae non spcrabitur liora. 
 Me pingueni & nitiduni bene curata cute vises, 
 Cum ridere voles, Epicuri de giege porcum.
 
 PART OF THE TEJNTH BOOK 
 
 OF 
 
 OVID'S METAMORPHOSES, 
 
 TRANSLATED. 
 
 r IRED by a mortal flame, the Queen of Love, 
 In distant shades forgets the Cyprian grove, 
 Cnidos and Paphos now dehght no more. 
 Nor Amathus renown'd for precious ore; 
 E'en blest Olympus yields unenvied charms. 
 She knows no heav'n but in Adonis' arms: 
 Held in delicious chains, the captive boy 
 His youth inglorious wastes in idle joy ; 
 For him the Goddess trims her rosy bowers. 
 The slave and partner of his blissful hours. 
 For him with comely robes her form improves. 
 Her heavenly form, that brightens, as she moves. 
 With livelier beauties, and with keener loves. 
 Idalias Goddess, now a huntress grown. 
 For chaste Diana's garb forsakes her own, 
 
 I
 
 258 
 
 O'er hill and dale she springs with active grace, 
 
 Bare to the knee and buskin'd for the chase. 
 
 Cheers the swift pack, and o'er the scented lawn 
 
 The doubling hare and hghtly bounding fawn 
 
 With wary speed pursues ; but dreads the roar 
 
 Of the chaf'd hon, and the bristly boar: 
 
 For oft her fears — ill omen of thy doom. 
 
 Ah ! luckless youth — forestall'd her woes to come. 
 
 Oh had her boding cries, and piteous tears 
 
 Inspir'd thy breast, Adonis, with her fears — 
 
 As thus she spoke ! " Too venturous youth, beware. 
 
 Nor brave the peril that portends my care ; 
 
 Lest the short triumphs which thy valour gains 
 
 To me be sources of eternal pains. 
 
 Bold though thou art — 'tis madness to engage 
 
 With brutes in strength superior, as in rage ; 
 
 O'er harmless game indulge in boundless sport. 
 
 These Nature arms with fury to retort : 
 
 For, ah ! not e'en thy form or blooming age. 
 
 The wrath of wolves and tygers can assuage ; 
 
 Those charms that won thy Cytherea's soul. 
 
 Can they the boar's insatiate tusk controul ?
 
 259 
 
 Methinks I view the ruthless monster nigh, 
 
 Deaih in his jaws, and murder in his eye. 
 
 Swift as the bolt he points the side-long wound. 
 
 And roots thy trampled beauties to the ground. 
 
 Nor less from feats of daring force refrain. 
 
 Where'er the tawny lion prowls amain : 
 
 Sport of my scorn, that execrated brood 
 
 Records an ancient legendary feud ; 
 
 Which would'st thou learn — thy Venus shall relate 
 
 The cause and wond'rous issue of her hate. 
 
 But first awhile my spirits to restore. 
 
 Worn for thy sake with toils unknown before. 
 
 Here let us rest — beneath yon aspin's shade, 
 
 A waving canopy for lovers made. 
 
 Lo ! where around the mossy turf bestows, 
 
 A verdant couch inviting to repose." — 
 
 She said — and sinking on the flowery bed. 
 
 Beside the youth reclin'd her languid head : 
 
 Then thus — while ev'ry graceful turn confess'd 
 
 Her bright divinity, the tale address'd — 
 
 Yet pausing oft, reluctant to pursue 
 
 With mix'd endearments interrupts the clue.
 
 THE STORY OF 
 
 HIPPOMENES AND ATALANTA. 
 
 If Fame hath e'er reported to thine ear 
 
 A nymph for swiftness own'd without a peer. 
 
 Whose skill in rival feats could e'er subdue 
 
 The stronger sex — ne'er deem the tale untrue. 
 
 Fair Atalanta, matchless in the race. 
 
 No less excell'd for loveliness of face. 
 
 Her form and speed, competitors for fame. 
 
 Each unsurpass'd, preferr'd an equal claim. 
 
 Nor could the judgment of impartial eyes 
 
 To either grant the litigated prize — 
 
 How blest, proud dame, had been that envied state. 
 
 Had no stern counterpoise of adverse fate
 
 261 
 
 Outweigh'd the good ! but fast impending woes 
 In dark prophetic warnings interpose : . 
 For thus Apollo from the Delphic shrine 
 Was heard in threat'ning accents to divine : 
 " Fly, while thou may'st — sad Atalanta, fly 
 Tlie porch of Hymen, and the nuptial tie — 
 Yet know thou can'st not — doom'd while yet alive. 
 To lose thyself, and thou the loss survive." 
 Warn'd by these oracles, the royal maid. 
 In some deep forest's unfrequented shade. 
 Veils her ill-fated charms : but ah ! what care 
 Can from love's piercing search protect the fair r 
 Her secret haunts betray'd, a busy train, 
 Tlieir amorous suit, unwearied by disdain. 
 Ceaseless intrude. — She to evade their love 
 Bids them these hard conditions first approve, 
 " Nor think," she said, " unpurchas'd to obtain 
 The palm which Victory alone must gain : 
 Vanquish'd I'll yield — with me contend in speed. 
 And Atalanta be the victor's meed. 
 Who fails presumptuous, shall by death atone 
 His daring claim — be these the terms alone."
 
 262 
 
 4 
 
 Though harsh the law, 'twas Beauty that decreed, 
 
 And crowds of rash pretenders daily bleed. 
 
 With them, spectator of th' eventful game, 
 
 Hippomenes from far Boeotia came. 
 
 But not by love inspir'd — he scorn'd the yoke. 
 
 And thus indignant, as he sate, he spoke : 
 
 " If 'tis so perilous a wish to wed. 
 
 Ye Gods, I envy not the marriage-bed." 
 
 Vain was this rash defiance — for erelong 
 
 His heart revers'd the sentence of his tongue : 
 
 For when her form the virgin unarray'd 
 
 As fair and faultless as my own display 'd. 
 
 Or such as thine, Adonis, to behold, 
 
 Had Nature fram'd thee in a female mould. 
 
 Wild with surprise, with hands uplifted high, 
 
 " Not you, ye bold adventurers, but I 
 
 Have falsely judg'd, forgive the wretch" he cries, 
 
 " Who spurn'd the contest ere he weigh'd the prize. 
 
 Warm'd with the praises, which himself bestows. 
 
 He dreads his rivals, and with envy glows ; 
 
 Restless he sits, with eager eyes intent. 
 
 Surveys the course, and trembles for th' event :
 
 26:; 
 
 " But wherefore thus, irresolute, delay 
 The chance of glorious conquest to essay ? 
 Great is the stake, a Mistress or a grave ; 
 But fortune's dearest minions are the brave." 
 While thus he ponders, with as light a spring 
 As shoots an arrow from the Scythian string. 
 The virgin starts ; yet could her feet ne'er vie 
 With the quick glances of the lover's eye; 
 Each look, each varying motion they pursue. 
 And as he gaz'd his admiration grew; 
 For ev'ry charm, new-kindled by the race. 
 Blush 'd into blaze and quicken'd into o-race : 
 Her clinging vest, around her ancles twin'd, 
 Wav'd as she pass'd, and flutter'd in the wind ; 
 And o'er her ivory shoulders to the knee. 
 Where the loose broider'd skirts asunder flee. 
 Her wand'ring locks descend ; a glow more warm 
 Supplants the virgin whiteness of her form : 
 As some bright veil, whereon the sunbeams fall. 
 Tints with a crimson shade the Parian wall. 
 While yet the sight engross'd the Prince's soul. 
 The race is run, and at the furthest goal
 
 264 
 
 Crown'd with triumphant wreaths the Vict'ress stood 
 
 The groaning victims pay their forfeit blood. 
 
 Nor could their fate the dauntless youth dissuade ; 
 
 Firm he arose, and thus address'd the maid. 
 
 " Mean is the prize by worthless rivals lost ; 
 
 An easy conquest is an empty boast : 
 
 But if a nobler zeal thy breast inflame. 
 
 With me contending, doubly seek for fame, 
 
 Whate'er the event — should I thy conqueror be, 
 
 'Twere no dishonour to be foil'd by me ; 
 
 For know from royal Megareus I spring, 
 
 Whose sire Onchestus did from Neptune bring 
 
 His proud descent ; thus am I fourth in blood 
 
 From him whose trident rules the wat'ry flood. 
 
 Nor less for prowess than for birth renown'd. 
 
 Both, if I fail, shall to thy praise redound ; 
 
 And deathless fame thy Victory complete. 
 
 Ennobled by Hippomenes' defeat." 
 
 Thus while he spoke, a tender look express'd 
 
 The doubts that labour'd in the virgin's breast, 
 
 Nor could her fluctuating mind decide. 
 
 Whether unwoo'd to win, or yield a bride :
 
 Q65 
 
 " What God," she cries, " to comeliness a foe. 
 
 For envy points th* inevitable blow ? 
 
 And bids him thus his destin'd life forswear. 
 
 For these poor arms a sacrifice too dear ? 
 
 Yet not his form, (though that perchance might move) 
 
 Nor yet himself; his blooming age I love : 
 
 His valour too to pity might incline. 
 
 Or that he springs from Neptune's godhke line. 
 
 Or that he loves, and sets a price so high 
 
 Upon these charms, as for their sake to die. 
 
 Ah ! fly, rash youth ; thy fatal suit forego. 
 
 Death is my dower, and my alliance woe : 
 
 Thy proud deserts entitle thee to claim 
 
 Some worthier match, some more propitious dame. 
 
 But whence this fond invidious pref 'rence shewn. 
 
 When crowds unpitied bleed, to one alone ? 
 
 No, let him fall ; fit object of my scorn, 
 
 A listless wretch, whom no examples warn. 
 
 And must he die, and I the sentence give. 
 
 For that he nobly strove with me to live ? 
 
 My vict'ry then a guilty deed would prove ; 
 
 His death the recompense of faithful love.
 
 266 
 
 And yet not I, thy rashness prompts the sin : 
 
 O ! wert thou slow to try, or swift to win. 
 
 What blushing grace adorns his modest mien 1 
 
 Would I had ne'er those fatal beauties seen ! 
 
 Worthy thou wert a better lot to find. 
 
 Than share the miseries to mine assign'd. 
 
 Or rather, would th' importunate command 
 
 Had ne'er from wedlock held my fated hand! 
 
 Blest had I been a mutual love to own 
 
 Due but to thee, and but for thee unknown." 
 
 She said ; and with a new-born passion mov'd. 
 
 Felt all the flame, yet knew not that she lov'd. 
 
 The many now, with shouts that rend the air. 
 
 Demand the race, and Casneus bids prepare ; 
 
 When thus Hippomenes my aid desir'd : 
 
 " Aid, Goddess, aid the work, by thee inspir'd." 
 
 Swift to mine ear propitious breezes bear 
 
 The winged words ; and granted was the prayer. 
 
 Around my sacred dome a garden smiles. 
 The fairest portion of the Queen of isles. 
 By Cypriots nam'd the Tamasean plain, 
 Where shrin'd in consecrated shades I reign :
 
 267 
 
 There in the centre of the hallow'd grove 
 Stands a fair plant, and proudly peers above. 
 Whose clust'ring boughs bright burnish'd fruits unfold. 
 And crackling leaves that vegetate in gold. 
 Three glitt'ring apples from the rest I chuse, 
 And at his need instruct the Prince to use : 
 When, lo ! the trumpet sounds, and both amain 
 Start from the post, and scour along the plain ; 
 A step so light th' unyielding corn might sweep. 
 Or graze th' unruffl'd surface of the deep : 
 Loud bursts of acclamation strike the skies, -n 
 
 " Haste, haste, Hippomenes," the rabble cries ; > 
 
 " Strain ev'ry nerve, be bold, and snatch the prize." 3 
 'Tvvere hard to tell to which the sound convey'd 
 The greater joy, the hero, or the maid : 
 How oft she curb'd the fury of the race 
 To cast a sidelong glance upon his face ! 
 Then sigh'd her own transcendent speed to find. 
 Reluctant fled, and left her heart behind. 
 Quick pants the youth ; despair o'erwhelms his soul ; 
 Faint was his breath, and distant was the goal. 
 Then first observant of my will he cast 
 A golden ball, that bounded as it pass'd, 
 
 N 2
 
 268 
 
 Till full in Atalanta's path it lay, 
 
 Check'd in mid flight, and lur'd her to delay ; 
 
 When, as she stoops to seize the precious toy, 
 
 He springs before : the many shout for joy. 
 
 But soon the maid regain'd the distance lost. 
 
 And still had vanquish'd at her lover's cost ; 
 
 When straight another rolling globe he threw; 
 
 Again he triumphed, to be foil'd anew. 
 
 Short distance now remained, the doom accurst 
 
 Was hard at hand, and Atalanta first : 
 
 The Prince pursued afar : " Be thou my guide. 
 
 Celestial author of the gift," he cried. 
 
 And whirl'd at once, with well-directed force. 
 
 The third bright apple, now his last resource. 
 
 Obedient to his aim, the missive gold 
 
 Athwart the measured course obliquely roU'd : 
 
 Awhile she paus'd : I mark'd her wav'ring mmd. 
 
 And to the bias of her wish inclin'd : 
 
 Once more the fruit she seiz'd ; the massy freight 
 
 Impedes her course ; my power increas'd the weight. 
 
 But, to be brief, and lest the tale appear 
 
 To halt like Atalanta in the rear.
 
 269 
 
 The Maid was beat : and with a victor's pride, 
 
 Hippomenes exulting claim'd the bride. 
 
 And sure, methinks, to my so potent aid 
 
 Some gratitude was due : but none was paid ; 
 
 The wretch unmindful how he won the prize. 
 
 Bade at my shrine no pious odours rise. 
 
 At this incens'd ; " Let all henceforth be warnM, 
 
 Nor with impunity my power be scorn'd." 
 
 I said ; and kindling into sudden hate, 
 
 Ordain'd a dire example in their fate. 
 
 It chanc'd, that, journeying near the dread abodes. 
 
 To the Great Mother of th' immortal Gods 
 
 By old Echion rear'd, th' unconscious pair 
 
 There sought the toils of travel to repair 
 
 Beneath th' imbow'ring shades : 'twas then that, fir'd 
 
 With fierce intemp'rate heat by me inspir'd. 
 
 The luckless Lover burn'd. Hard by there stood. 
 
 Hewn in the pumice rock, o'erhung with wood, 
 
 A deep recess, in whose religious shade 
 
 The mutt'ring priest to wooden idols pray'd : 
 
 Here rash Hippomenes in evil hour 
 
 With sacrilegious love profan'd the bower.
 
 £70 
 
 With eyes averted at the foul disgrace. 
 
 The trembling statues totter'd to their base ; 
 
 And on her front, that wore an angry look. 
 
 Her hundred towers the Goddess-Mother shook. 
 
 And first, to expiate the detested deed. 
 
 Deep in the Stygian lake her wrath decreed 
 
 To plunge them headlong ; but that doom had been 
 
 Too mild a sentence for so black a sin. 
 
 A hideous change ensues : their necks sustain. 
 
 No longer smooth, a load of shaggy mane ; 
 
 Their spreading hands, contracted into paws. 
 
 For taper fingers end in crooked claws ; 
 
 In front a mass of cumb'rous strength they find. 
 
 And slowly drag a length of tail behind. 
 
 Hoarse roars the throat, where words were wont to flow. 
 
 And grim-fac'd Fury settles on their brow. 
 
 Couch'd in the woods, eternal war they wage. 
 
 By force subsist, and propagate in rage ; 
 
 Dreaded by all, save Cybele alone. 
 
 Long years of toil their sacrilege atone ; 
 
 Her Lions now, they feel the galling rein. 
 
 And draw with stately pace the Berecynthian wain.
 
 TRANSLATION 
 
 OF THE 
 
 SPEECH OF THERAMENES, 
 
 FROM THE 
 
 PHiEDRE OF RACINE. 
 
 Scarce issued from the gates, in sad array. 
 The Prince pursued his melancholy way ; 
 Beside his car with measured steps and slow, 
 March'd his stern guards, the partners of his woe; 
 Pensive he bends to famM Mycene's plains. 
 And o'er the coursers drops the careless reins : 
 Those gen'rous coursers of ethereal soul. 
 Once fiery, fierce, impatient of controul. 
 Now droop'd the mournful head with mute accord. 
 And seem'd to share the sorrows of their lord.
 
 272 
 
 Just then from out the deep a hideous roar 
 
 Fill'd all the air, and peal'd along the shore. 
 
 And from the central earth a hollow cry, 
 
 With stifled echoes mutter'd in reply. 
 
 Aghast in speechless agony we stood ; 
 
 Back to each heart recoU'd the freezing blood ; 
 
 The list'ning steeds with wild distraction gaze. 
 
 And trembling start, and bristle with amaze : 
 
 Meanwhile high-towering o'er the wat'ry plain, 
 
 A liquid mountain issued from the main ; 
 
 Th* unwieldy wave advancing to the land. 
 
 Burst with loud surges on the sounding strand ; 
 
 And vomited from forth the spumy flood. 
 
 Full in our sight a grisly monster stood : 
 
 In circling folds his slimy length he trails, 
 
 Horn'd was his front, his limbs o'erspread with scales. 
 
 To arm his varied form with double might. 
 
 The Dragon fierce, and sturdy Bull unite. 
 
 Earth trembles at his roar, the rocks reply. 
 
 His breath contagious blots the sickening sky. 
 
 And Ocean shrinking from th' infected shore. 
 
 Starts back affrighted from the pest he bore.
 
 273 
 
 Breathless we run some neighb'ring roof to gain, 
 
 Nor scorn to fly, where all defence were vain. 
 
 Not so Hippolytus : alone unmov'd. 
 
 He dares the fight, a hero's son approv'd. 
 
 Checks his proud steeds, and grasps in haste to slay 
 
 His thirsty lance, impatient for the prey : 
 
 Pois'd by no erring hand, the faithful dart 
 
 Sinks deep, and quivers in the monster's heart. 
 
 Frantic with rage and pain, the savage wreaths. 
 
 As gasping at the victor's feet he breathes 
 
 From his envenom'd jaws a mingled flood 
 
 Of rolling smoke, and fire, and streaming blood. 
 
 Swift scour the madd'ning steeds, and wing'd with fear. 
 
 Nor heed the rein, nor threat'ning charioteer : 
 
 All force and skill alike avail no more ; 
 
 The galling bit runs crimson with their gore : 
 
 Some God, 'tis said, as of the Fury train. 
 
 With snaky lash provok'd their speed amain : 
 
 O'er trackless wastes and rugged steeps they dash ; 
 
 The rifted axle yields a deadly crash ; 
 
 And hurl'd abroad in wild disorder far 
 
 Fly the loose fragments of the shatter'd car.
 
 274 
 
 Bound in the tangled reins, the youth is thrown. 
 
 And in his chariot's ruin views his own : 
 
 I saw, alas ! I saw him lifeless spread. 
 
 Torn by the steeds his fatal bounty fed ; 
 
 His well-known voice that should abate their fear. 
 
 But adds new fury to their mad career; 
 
 The mangled carcase trail'd along the ground. 
 
 One shapeless clot appears, one universal wound. 
 
 Till, spent at last, they slacken in their pace. 
 
 Drawn by strong impulse to that fated place. 
 
 Where ancient tombs and sacred urns inshrine 
 
 The mould'ring relics of his princely line. 
 
 Thither we speed, and o'er the craggy shore 
 
 Pursue the purple traces of his gore ; 
 
 Nor vain the search ; the rocks discolour'd bear 
 
 His flesh still quiv'ring, and his clotted hair : 
 
 Approaching near, " Hippolytus \" in vain, 
 
 " Hippolytus !" I cry. The Prince with pain 
 
 Scarce rais'd his dying eyes, and clos'd again : 
 
 Then feebly spoke ; " A guiltless death I die : 
 
 On thee alone my parting cares rely. 
 
 This last fond wish, Theramenes, attend: 
 
 Thou hast been mine, be thou Aricia's friend : 
 
 I
 
 275 
 
 And should my sire by late conviction won. 
 E'er weep the fortune of an injur'd son. 
 Bid him requite my melancholy shade 
 With profFer'd bounty to the captive maid ; 
 Bid him restore — ." At this his fleeting breath 
 No more could struggle with prevailing death ; 
 But in my arms the shapeless body left. 
 Of speech, of motion, and of life bereft ; 
 So chang'd, alas ! that in that sad disguise 
 The Son might e'en elude a Father's eyes : 
 A wretched victim doom'd on earth to shew. 
 What fatal ills from heav'nly vengeance flow. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 J. AfCREERY, Printer, 
 Black-Horse-court, Fleet-street, Loudon.
 
 ALTER L. 11. P. 233, TO 
 By Pamphlet, Pasquinade, Review, 
 
 ^•♦.-. 
 
 THE tlBRART *" 
 
 DlffVERSn Y OF CAUFORNU 
 - LOS ANGELES
 
 •■■ '. .IH;A
 
 SOUTHFRMli=!^Sy °' California 
 ao*; no J J^ REGIONAL LIBRARY FACIL 
 
 ?0S aSppTIc ^^^'^'"9 Lot 17 . bS 9 
 LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA 90095-1388 
 
 i\IOI\l-REI\IEW. 
 
 DEC 6 2004 
 
 DUE 2 WKS FROM DATE DECEIVED 
 
 ^'';LA ACCESS SFrLtc 
 'nterlibraryLoan 
 n630Un;verq/tv, R 
 
 t-.>sAnge/es f/ 
 
 5
 
 IT 
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 AA 000 394 157 2 
 
 I 
 
 
 PLEA.««v DO NOT REMOVE 
 THIS BOOK CARD I 
 
 
 :zj 
 
 
 
 IB 
 
 m 
 
 !..U 
 
 ^^Hy 
 
 University Research Libro^ 
 
 < 
 
 o