Some Lord this manfion held in days of yore,
To chace the wolf, and pierce the foaming boar:
How chang'd, alas, from what it once had been?
'Tis now degraded to a public inn.

Straight he difmounts, repeats his loud commands::
Swift at the gate the ready landlord stands;
With frequent cringe he bows, and begs excuse,
His house was full, and every bed in use.
What not a garret, and no straw to fpare?
Why then the kitchen-fire and elbow-chair
Shall ferve for once to nod away the night.
The kitchen ever is the fervant's right,
Replies the hoft; there, all the fire around,
The Count's tir'd footmen fnore upon the ground.

The maid, who liften'd to this whole debate,
With pity learnt the weary ftranger's fate.
Be brave, fhe cries, you ftill may be our guest;
Our haunted room was ever held the beft:

•If then your valour can the fright sustain
Of rattling curtains and the clinking chain;
If your courageous tongue have power to talk,
When round your bed the horrid ghost shall walk;
you dare afk it, why it leaves its tomb;

If

1

I'll fee your fheets well air'd, and fhew the room.
Soon as the frighted maid her tale had told,
The ftranger enter'd, for his heart was bold.
The damíel led him through a fpacious hall,
Where ivy hung the half-demolish'd wall:
She frequent look'd behind, and chang'd her hue,
While fancy tipt the candle's flame with blue.

And

And now they gain'd the winding ftairs' afcent,
And to the lonefome room of terrors went.
When all was ready, "swift retir'd the maid,
The watch-lights burn, tuck'd warm in bed was laid
The hardy ftranger, and attends the sprite
Till his accuftom'd walk at dead of night.

At first he hears the wind with hollow roar
Shake the loofe lock, and fwing the creaking door;
Nearer and nearer draws the dreadful found

Of rattling chains, that dragg'd upon the ground:
When lo, the spectre came with horrid stride,
Approach'd the bed, and drew the curtains wide!
In human form the ghaftful phantom flood,
Expos'd his mangled bofom dy'd with blood.
Then, filent pointing to his wounded breast,
Thrice wav'd his hand. Beneath the frighted gueft
The bed-cords trembled, and with fhuddering fear,
Sweat chill'd his limbs, high rose his bristled hair;
Then muttering hasty prayers, he mann'd his heart,
And cry'd aloud; Say, whence and who thou art.
The stalking ghoft with hollow voice replies,
Three years are counted fince with mortal eyes
1 faw the fun, and vital air respir'd.
Like thee benighted, and with travel tir'd,
Within these walls I flept. O thirst of gain!
See, ftill the planks the bloody mark retain.
Stretch'd on this very bed, from fleep I start,
And see the steel impending o'er my heart;
The barbarous hoftefs held the lifted knife,
The floor ran purple with my gufhing life.

My

My treasure now they feize, the golden fpoil
They bury deep beneath the grafs-grown foil,
Far in the common field. Be bold, arise,
My steps fhall lead thee to the fecret prize;
There dig, and find; let that thy care reward:
Call loud on juftice, bid her not retard
To punish murder; lay my ghost at rest:
So fhall with peace fecure thy nights be bleft;
And, when beneath these boards my bones are found,
Decent inter them in fome facred ground.

Here ceas'd the ghost. The stranger fprings from bed,
And boldly follows where the phantom led :
The half-worn ftony stairs they now descend,
Where paffages obfcure their arches bend.

Silent they walk; and now through groves they pass,
Now through wet meads their steps imprint the grass.
At length amidst a fpacious field they came:
There ftops the fpectre, and afcends in flame.
Amaz'd he stood, no bush or brier was found,
To teach his morning search to find the ground.
What could he do? the night was hideous dark,
Fear fhook his joints, and nature dropt the mark :
With that he starting wak'd, and rais'd his head,
But found the golden mark was left in bed.

What is the statesman's vaft ambitious fcheme,
But a fhort vifion, and a golden dream?
Power, wealth, and title, elevate his hope;
He wakes: but, for a garter, finds a rope.

THE

A

PRUDE, at morn and evening prayer,
Had worn her velvet-cushion bare;

Upward she taught her eyes to roll,
As if the watch'd her foaring foul;

And, when devotion warm'd the croud,
None fung, or fmote their breast so loud:
Pale Penitence had mark'd her face
With all the meagre figns of grace.
Her mafs-book was compleatly lin'd
With painted Saints of various kind:
But, when in every page she view'd
Fine Ladies who the flesh subdued,
As quick her beads the counted o'er,
She cry'd Such wonders are no more!
She chose not to delay confeffion,
To bear at once a year's tranfgreffion;
But every week fet all things even,
And balanc'd her accounts with Heaven.
Behold her now in humble guife,

Upon her knees with down-cast eyes

VOL. II.

C

Before

Before the Prieft: fhe thus begins,
And, fobbing, blubbers-forth her fins
"Who could that tempting man refist?
"My virtue languish'd, as he kiss'd;
"I ftrove till I could ftrive no longer:

"How can the weak fubdue the ftronger?”

The Father afk'd her where and when?
How many? and what fort of men?
By what degrees her blood was heated?
How oft' the frailty was repeated?
Thus have I feen a pregnant wench
All flufh'd with guilt before the bench:
The Judges (wak'd by wanton thought)
Dive to the bottom of her fault;
They leer, they fimper at her fhame,
And make her call all things by name.
And now to fentence he proceeds,
Prefcribes how oft' to tell her beads;
Shews her what Saints could do her good,
Doubles her fafts, to cool her blood.

Eas'd of her fins, and light as air,
Away fhe trips, perhaps to prayer.

"Twas no fuch thing. Why then this hafte?
The clock has ftruck, the hour is past;

And, on the fpur of inclination,
She fcorn'd to bilk her affignation.

Whate'er fhe did, next week fhe came,

And piously confeft the fame.

The