Nor seldom grace the flowery downs,
With spiral tops and copple crowns;
Or gilding in a sunny morn
The humble branches of a thorn.
So poets sing, with golden bough
The Trojan hero paid his vow.1
Hither, by luckless error led,
The crude consistence oft I tread;
Here when my shoes are out of case,
Unweeting gild the tarnish'd lace;
Here, by the sacred bramble tinged,
My petticoat is doubly fringed.
Be witness for me, nymph divine,
I never robb'd thee with design;
Nor will the zealous Hannah pout
To wash thy injured offering out.
But stop, ambitious Muse, in time,
Nor dwell on subjects too sublime.
In vain on lofty heels I tread,
Aspiring to exalt my head;
With hoop expanded wide and light,
In vain I 'tempt too high a flight.
Me Phoebus2 in a midnight dream & Accosting, said, "Go shake your cream.* Be humbly-minded, know your post; Sweeten your tea, and watch your toast.
1 Virg. Lib. VI.—F.
2 Cynthius aurem vellit. Hor.-F.
8 Cum somnia vera. Hor.-F.
4 In the bottle to make butter.-F.
Thee best befits a lowly style;
Teach Dennis how to stir the guile;
With Peggy Dixon2 thoughtful sit,
Contriving for the pot and spit.
Take down thy proudly swelling sails,
And rub thy teeth and pare thy nails ;
At nicely carving show thy wit;
But ne'er presume to eat a bit:
Turn every way thy watchful eye,
And every guest be sure to ply:
Let never at your board be known
An empty plate, except your own.
Be these thy arts; nor higher aim
Than what befits a rural dame.
"But Cloacina, goddess bright,
And Smedley, flower of all divines,
Shall sing the Dean in Smedley's lines."
LEST it may more quarrels breed,
I will never hear you read.
1 The quantity of ale or beer brewed at one time.-F.
2 Mrs. Dixon, the housekeeper.-F.
3 Hæ tibi erunt artes. Virg.-F.
4 A very stupid, insolent, factious, deformed, conceited person; a vile pretender to poetry, preferred by the Duke of Grafton for his wit.-F.
By disputing, I will never,
To convince you once endeavour.
When a paradox you stick to,
I will never contradict you.
When I talk and you are heedless,
I will show no anger needless.
When your speeches are absurd,
I will ne'er object a word.
When you furious argue wrong,
I will grieve and hold my tongue.
Not a jest or humorous story
Will I ever tell before ye:
To be chidden for explaining,
When you quite mistake the meaning.
Never more will I suppose,
You can taste my verse or prose.
Show your poverty of spirit,
And in dress place all your merit t;
Give yourself ten thousand airs:
That with me shall break no squares.
Never will I give advice,
Till you please to ask me thrice :
Which if you in scorn reject.
"Twill be just as I expect.
Thus we both shall have our ends,
And continue special friends.
THE REVOLUTION AT MARKET-HILL.
FROM distant regions Fortune sends
An odd triumvirate of friends
Where Phoebus pays a scanty stipend,
Where never yet a codling ripen'd:
Hither the frantic goddess draws
Three sufferers in a ruin'd cause:
By faction banish'd, here unite,
A Dean,1 a Spaniard, and a knight;3
2 Colonel Henry Leslie, who served and lived long in Spain.-Scott.
Unite, but on conditions cruel
el;
The Dean and Spaniard find it too well,
Condemn'd to live in service hard;
On either side his honour's guard:
The Dean to guard his honour's back,
Must build a castle at Drumlack ;
The Spaniard, sore against his will,
Must raise a fort at Market-Hill.
And thus the pair of humble gentry
At north and south are posted sentry;
While in his lordly castle fixt,
The knight triumphant reigns betwixt :
And, what the wretches most resent,
To be his slaves, must pay him rent;
Attend him daily as their chief,
Decant his wine, and carve his beef.
O Fortune! 'tis a scandal for thee
To smile on those who are least worthy :
Weigh but the merits of the three,
His slaves have ten times more than he.
Proud baronet of Nova Scotia !
The Dean and Spaniard must reproach ye:
Of their two fames the world enough rings:
Where are thy services and sufferings?
What if for nothing once you kiss'd,
Against the grain a monarch's fist?
What if, among the courtly tribe,
You lost a place and saved a bribe?
And then in surly mood came here,
To fifteen hundred pounds a-year,
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