Nor mighty princes now disdain to wear
Thy waving crest, the mark of high command,
With gold, and pearl, and brilliant gems adorn'd".
Now if the crystal stream delight thee more,
Sportsman! lead on, where through the reedy bank
The' insinuating waters, filter'd, stray

In many a winding maze. The wild-duck there
Gluts on the fattening ooze, or steals the spawn
Of teeming shoals, her more delicious feast.
How do the sunbeams on the glassy plain
Sport wanton, and amuse our wandering eyes
With variously-reflected changing rays!
The murmuring stream salutes the flowery mead
That glows with fragrance; Nature all around
Consents to bless. What sluggard now would sink
In beds of down? What miser would not leave
His bags untold for this transporting scene?-
Falconer, take care, oppose thy well-train'd steed,
And slily stalk; unhood thy falcon bold,
Observe at feed the unsuspecting team
Paddling with oary feet: he's seen; they fly.
Now at full speed the falconer spurs away
To' assist his favourite hawk; she from the rest
Has singled out the mallard young and gay,
Whose green and azure brightens in the sun.
Swift as the wind that sweeps the desert plain,
With feet, wings, beak, he cuts the liquid sky:
Behoves him now both oar and sail; for see
The' unequal foe gains on him as he flies.
Long holds the' aërial course; they rise, they fall,
Now skim in circling rings, then stretch away
With all their force, till at one fatal stroke

6 The hern's top worn at coronations here, and by the great men in Asia in their turbans.

The vigorous hawk, exerting every nerve,
Truss'd in mid air bears down her captive prey.
"Tis well on earth they fall; for oft the duck
Mistrusts her coward wings, and seeks again
The kind protecting flood: if haply then
The falcon rash aim a decisive blow,

And spring to gripe her floating prey, at once
She dives beneath, and near some osier's root
Pops up her head secure: then views her foe
Just in the grasping of her fond desires,
And in full pride of triumph, whelm❜d beneath
The gliding stream. Ah! where are now, proud bird!
Thy stately trappings, and thy silver bells,
Thy glossy plumage, and thy silken crest?
Say, tyrant of the skies! wouldst thou not now
Exchange with thy but late desponding foe
Thy dreadful talons, and thy polish'd beak,
For her web-feet despised? How happy they
Who,when gay Pleasure courts, and Fortune smiles,
Fear the reverse; with caution tread those paths
Where roses grow, but wily vipers creep!

These are expensive joys, fit for the great,
Of large domains possess'd: enough for me
To boast the gentle spar-hawk on my fist,
Or fly the partridge from the bristly field,
Retrieve the covey with my busy train,
Or with my soaring hobby dare the lark.

But if the shady woods my cares employ
In quest of feather'd game, my spaniels beat
Puzzling the' entangled copse, and from the brake
Push forth the whirring pheasant; high in air
He waves his varied plumes, stretching away
With hasty wing. Soon from the' uplifted tube
The mimic thunder bursts, the leaden death

O'ertakes him, and with many a giddy whirl
To earth he falls, and at my feet expires.

When Autumn smiles, all beauteous in decay,
And paints each chequer'd grove with various hues,
My setter ranges in the new-shorn fields,
His nose in air erect; from ridge to ridge
Panting he bounds, his quarter'd ground divides
In equal intervals, nor careless leaves

One inch untried. At length the tainted gales
His nostrils wide inhale: quick joy elates
His beating heart, which, awed by discipline
Severe, he dares not own, but cautious creeps
Low-cowering, step by step; at last attains
His proper distance; there he stops at once,
And points with his instructive nose upon
The trembling prey. On wings of wind upborne
The floating net unfolded flies, then drops,
And the poor fluttering captives rise in vain.
Or haply on some river's cooling bank,
Patiently musing, all intent I stand

To hook the scaly glutton. See! down sinks
My cork, that faithful monitor; his weight
My taper angle bends; surprised, amazed,
He glitters in the sun, and struggling, pants
For liberty, till in the purer air

He breathes no more. Such are our pleasing cares
And sweet amusements; such each busy drudge
Envious must wish, and all the wise enjoy.

In

Thus, most illustrious prince! have I presumed my obscure sojourn, to sing at ease Rural delights, the joy and sweet repast

Of every noble mind; and now perchance Untimely sing, since from yon neighbouring shore The grumbling thunder rolls; calm Peace alarm'd

Starts from her couch, and the rude din of war
Sounds harsh in every ear. But, righteous Heaven!
Britain deserted, friendless and alone,

Will not as yet despair: shine but in arms,
O prince! beloved by all; patron profess'd
Of liberty; with every virtue crown'd;
Millions shall crowd her strand, and her white cliffs,
As Teneriffe or Atlas firm, defy

The break of seas, and malice of her foes,
Nor the proud Gaul prevail where Cæsar fail'd.

THE BOWLING-GREEN.

WHERE fair Sabrina's wandering currents flow,
A large smooth plain extends its verdant brow;
Here every morn, while fruitful vapours feed
The swelling blade, and bless the smoking mead,
A cruel tyrant reigns: like Time, the swain
Whets his unrighteous scythe, and shaves the plain:
Beneath each stroke the peeping flowers decay,
And all the' unripen'd crop is swept away:
The heavy roller next he tugs along,
Whiffs his short pipe, or rears a rural song;
With curious eye then the press'd turf he views,
And every rising prominence subdues.

Now when each craving stomach was well stored, And Church and King had travell'd round the board, Hither at Fortune's shrine to pay their court With eager hopes the motley tribe resort; Attorneys spruce, in their plate-button'd frocks, And rosy parsons, fat and orthodox:

Of every sect, Whigs, Papists, and Highflyers, Cornuted aldermen, and hen-peck'd squires;

Fox-hunters, quacks, scribblers in verse and prose,
And half-pay captains, and half-witted beaus.
On the green cirque the ready racers stand,
Disposed in pairs, and tempt the bowler's hand;
Each polish'd sphere does his round brother own,
The twins distinguish'd by their marks are known.
As the strong rein guides the well-managed horse,
Here weighty lead infused directs their course:
These in the ready road drive on with speed,
But those in crooked paths more artfully succeed.
So the tall ship that makes some dangerous bay,
With a side wind obliquely slopes her way.
Lo! there the silver tumbler fix'd on high,
The victor's prize, inviting every eye!
The champions or consent or chance divide,
While each man thinks his own the surer side,
And the jack leads, the skilful bowler's guide.
Bendo stripp'd first; from foreign coasts he
brought

A chaos of receipts, and anarchy of thought;
Where the tumultuous whims, to faction prone,
Still justled monarch Reason from her throne;
More dangerous than the porcupine's his quill,
Inured to slaughter, and secure to kill.
Let loose, just Heaven! each virulent disease,
But save us from such murderers as these.
Might Bendo live but half a patriarch's age,
The' unpeopled world would sink beneath his
Nor need to' appease the just Creator's ire
A second deluge or consuming fire.
He winks one eye, and knits his brow severe,
Then from his hand launches the flying sphere;
Out of the green the guiltless wood he hurl'd,
Swift as his patients from this nether world;

rage;