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Oft weighty truths are in this garb ydress’d. .
Grant that it so may happen unto me;
Then joyance once again shall sooth this breast,
My pining foul shall be from anguish free,
And I shall taste true blifs, dear Columbel, with thee.

Methought I saw a figure fair and tall,
And gentle smiles sat dimpling on her face,
Yet seemed of a beauty nought at all,
'Till much beholding did improve each grace ;
At length she seem’d too fair for human race.
Her kirtle white might vie with winter snows.
Ne could you ought of her fair bosom trace,

Nought but her face would she to fight expose,
So modest maiden wends, the frannion muchel shows.

XXX. With visage bland methought she hail'd me oft: “Ne fear, quoth she, a female's mild request. “ The bark by tempests that is whirld aloft, “ At length, the tempeft o’er, enjoyeth rest. “My name is Chastity, though out of quest “ With modern dames, yet thou shalt still survey “A clime where beauty is with virtue bleft. .

“ Good fortune speed you on your happy way; “Go, gentle Squire of Dames, and here no longer stay.

XXXI. “ To XXXI. « To Fairy lond your instant journey bend, “ There Columbel may find her will obey’d; “ There Chastity may boast of many a friend, “She visits there each rosy-featur'd maid. “Go on, nor be by former toils affray'd : “Go where yon oaks display their verdant pride, « 'Till, from the mountains torn and stripp'd of shade,

“On Neptune's billows they triumphant ride, “ Protect their happy lond, and conquer all beside.

XXXII. “ Hail happy lond! for arms and arts renown'd, “For blooming virgins free from loose desire;. “ A Drake, a Bacon, there a birth-place found, “And chafte Eliza time shall e'er admire: “ The hero wields the sword and poet's lyre : “ This Sidney knew, who still with lustre shines, “For whom Dan Spenser wak’d the warbling quire,

“ And many more whose names might grace his lines; “ There round the warriour's palm the lover's myrtle XXXIII.

[twines.” At this I woke, and now resolv’d to brave The utmost perils for my Columbel; For, know, I mean to cross the briny wave, Where Albion's chalky cliffs the sea repel: K 2


And, if no mage have laid a magic spell,
Perchaunce my lot may be at length to find
Three hundred nymphs, who wicked love can quell;

If not, I must desert all womankind,
And, what me most amates, leave Columbel behind.

The Squire of Dames surceased here his say,
And forth he yode to seek the British ise,
Sir Satyrane prick’d on his dapple-grey,
Ne ought foreswonk he travell’d many a mile
To spend his days in hardiment and toil:
But first in courteous guise they bid farewell,
As well befits men bred in courtly foil,
Now how the Squire has sped, or ill, or well,
A future canto may, perhaps, at leisure tell.

For see, how Phæbus welketh in the west,
My oxen from their yoke I must untye,

The collar much has chauf'd their tender chest,
Who labours much the sweets of rest should try.
To their warm nests the daws and ravens fly
Deep in the ruin'd dome or dusky wood;
And beasts and birds fast lock'd in Number lye,

Save the fell bat, that Autters out for food,
And the foothsaying owl, with her unlovely brood.




The Squire he lights on Bon-vivant,

Who wons in Fairy soil,
Then views in Merlin's magic glass

A fight that ends bis toil.


To gain the point to which our foul aspires

1 We nourish toil, and reek hard labour sweet;
For this, thro' Greenland's frosts, or India's fires,
The hardy sailors death and dangers meet ;
And the prow chieftain, bolder than discreet,
In blood imbru'd pursues the martial fray,
And lovers eke through life’s loud tempests beat,

Led on by hope, that never-dying ray;
Hope wantons in their breast, and strews with flow'rs the




And sure of all mankind the Squire of Dames
Shall stand the first ensample of true love,
Who aye, untouch'd by any foreign flames,
Preserv'd his passion for his gentle dove;
K 3


Blush, modern youths, whose pulses quickly move,
Fondly you glote upon the witching fair ;
Yet, when a sweet enjoyment once you prove,

You leave the nymph intangled in the snare,
Her tears flow trickling down, her singulis pierce the air.

On think of transports which ye whilom tasted,
And let the glad remembrance charm your mind,
Be not the fruits of joyment quickly wasted,
And to your heart her happy image bind :
Think what she merits who whilear was kind,
Nor by inconstancy her peace destroy; .
Inconstancy, that monster fell and blind:

Thar vainly fond of every passing toy,
Treads down its late delight, and poisons rapt'rous joy.

Return we now unto our gentle youth,
Whose little bark daunc'd lightly on the main,
His breast divided atween joy and ruth;
Now gay ideas wanton in his brain,
Now woe-begon his heart is rent in twain,
On his success depends his Columbel;
And now he hopes, and now desponds again; .

The various turns of mind, when thoughts rebel,
Sure pen mote ne'er describc, and none but lovers telle

y. Methinks

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