XIII. WINIFREDA.1 This beautiful address to conjugal love, a subject too much neglected by the libertine Muses, was, I believe, first printed in a volume of Miscellaneous Poems, by several hands, published by D. [David] Lewis, 1726, 8vo.' It is there said, how truly I know not, to be a translation from the ancient British language.' AWAY; let nought to love displeasing, What tho' no grants of royal donors Our name, while virtue thus we tender, What though from fortune's lavish bounty Still shall each returning season And that's the only life to live. There are one or two claimants for the authorship of this exquisite song, such as one J. G. Cooper, and George Alexander Stevens; but the song appeared while the former of these was a child, and the other a youth.-ED. Through youth and age in love excelling, How should I love the pretty creatures, And when with envy time transported, Shall think to rob us of our joys, You'll in your girls again be courted, And I'll go a wooing in my boys. XIV. THE WITCH OF WOKEY 25 30 -was published in a small collection of poems, intitled, Euthemia, or The Power of Harmony, &c. 1756, written, in 1748, by the ingenious Dr. Harrington, of Bath, who never allowed them to be published, and withheld his name till it could no longer be concealed. The following copy was furnished by the late Mr. Shenstone, with some variations and corrections of his own, which he had taken the liberty to propose, and for which the Author's indulgence was intreated. In this Edition it was intended to reprint the Author's own original copy; but, as that may be seen correctly given in Pearch's Collection, Vol. I. 1783, p. 161, it was thought the Reader of Taste would wish to have the variations preserved; they are therefore still retained here, which it is hoped the worthy Author will excuse with his wonted liberality. Wokey-hole is a noted cavern in Somersetshire, which has given birth to as many wild fanciful stories as the Sybils Cave, in Italy. Thro' a very narrow entrance, it opens into a very large vault, the roof whereof, either on account of its height, or the thickness of the gloom, cannot be discovered by the light of torches. It goes winding a great way under ground, is crost by a stream of very cold water, and is all horrid with broken pieces of rock: many of these are evident petrifactions; which, on account of their singular forms, have given rise to the fables alluded to in this poem. IN aunciente days tradition showes The Witch of Wokey hight: Oft have I heard the fearfull tale On some long winter's night. Deep in the dreary dismall cell, And kennel near her side. Here screeching owls oft made their nest, Night-howling thro' the rock: No wholesome herb could here be found; And blister'd every flock. Her haggard face was foull to see; 5 10 15 20 Her eyne of deadly leer, She nought devis'd, but neighbour's ill; All in her prime, have poets sung, E'er blest her longing armes; By dint of hellish charms. From Glaston came a lerned wight, And well he did, I ween: Sich mischief never had been known, 25 30 And, since his mickle lerninge shown, He chauntede out his godlie booke, Then-pater noster done,— The ghastly hag he sprinkled o'er; Full well 'tis known adown the dale: But tho' this lernede clerke did well; She left this curse behind: Should find no leman kind. 35 40 45 50 For lo! even, as the fiend did say, 55 That men are wondrous scant: Shall then sich maids unpitied moane? Since Glaston now can boast no clerks. 60 Come down from Oxenford, ye sparks, Yet stay-nor thus despond, ye fair; I hear the gracious voice: Your sex shall soon be blest agen, XV. BRYAN AND PEREENE, A WEST-INDIAN BALLAD, 65 70 -is founded on a real fact, that happened in the island of St Christophers about the beginning of the present reign, (i.e. Geo. III.) The Editor owes the following stanzas to the friendship of Dr. James Grainger,1 who was an eminent physician in that island when this tragical incident happened, and died there much honoured and lamented in 1667. To this ingenious gentleman the public are indebted for the fine Ode on Solitude, printed in the IVth Vol. of Dodsley's Miscel. p. 229, in which are assembled some of the sublimest images in nature. The Reader will pardon the insertion of the first stanza here, for the sake of rectifying the two last lines, which were thus given by the Author: O Solitude, romantic maid, Whether by nodding towers you tread, Or haunt the desart's trackless gloom, Or hover o'er the yawning tomb, Or climb the Andes' clifted side, Or starting from your half-year's sleep Or at the purple dawn of day Tadmor's marble wastes survey, &c. alluding to the account of Palmyra published by some late ingenious travellers, and the manner in which they were struck at the first sight of those magnificent ruins by break of day." THE north-east wind did briskly blow, The ship was safely moor'd; Young Bryan thought the boat's-crew slow, And so leapt over-board. 1 Author of a poem on the Culture of the Sugar-Cane, &c.—2 So in pag. 235. it should be, Turn'd her magic ray. |