While the rich draught with oft repeated whiffs Tobacco mild improves : divine repast!
Where no crude furfeit, or intemperate joys Of lawless Bacchus reign: but o'er my foul A calm Lethean creeps: in drowsy trance Each thought fubfides, and fweet oblivion wraps My peaceful brain, as if the magic rod
Of leaden Morpheus o'er mine eyes had shed Its opiate influence, What though fore ills Oppress, dire want of chill-dispelling coals, Or cheerful candle, fave the makeweight's gleam Hap❜ly remaining; heart-rejoicing ale
Cheers the fad scene, and every want fupplies. Meantime not mindless of the daily task
Of tutor fage, upon the learned leaves Of deep Smiglecius much I meditate; While ale inspires, and lends her kindred aid The thought-perplexing labour to pursue, Sweet Helicon of logic! -But if friends Congenial call me from the toilfome page, To pot-house I repair, the facred haunt, Where, Ale, thy votaries in full refort Hold rites nocturnal. In capacious chair. Of monumental oak, and antique mould,
That long has stood the rage of conquering Time Inviolate, (not in more ample feat
Smokes rofy justice, when th' important cause, Whether of henrooft or of mirthful rape,.
In all the majesty of paunch, he tries,) Studious of eafe, and provident I place My gladfome limbs, while in repeated round Returns replenish'd the fucceffive cup, And the brifk fire confpires to genial joy. Nor feldom to relieve the ling'ring hours In innocent delight, amufive putt
On smooth joint-ftool in emblematic play The vain viciffitudes of fortune fhews. Nor reck'ning, name tremendous, me difturbs, Nor, call'd-for, chills my breast with fudden fear, While on the wonted door (expreffive mark!) The frequent penny ftands defcrib'd to view In fnowy characters, a graceful row.
Hail Ticking! furest guardian of distress,
Beneath thy fhelter pennylefs I quaff
The cheering cup: though much the poet's friend, Ne'er
yet attempted in poetic strain,
Accept this humble tribute of my praise.
Nor proctor thrice with vocal heel alarms
Our joys fecure, nor deigns the lowly roof Of pot-houfe fnug to vifit: wifer he
The fplendid tavern haunts, or coffee-house Of James or Juggins, where the grateful breath Of mild tobacco ne'er diffus'd its balm;
But the lewd spendthrift, falfely deem'd polite, While steams around the fragrant Indian bowl, Oft damns the vulgar fons of humbler Ale: In vain the proctor's voice alarms their joy; Juft fate of wanton pride, and vain excess!
Nor less by day delightful is thy draught, Heart-eafing Ale, whofe forrow-foothing fweets Oft I repeat in vacant afternoon,
When tatter'd stockings afk my mending hand Not unexperienc'd, while the tedious toil Slides unregarded. Let the tender swain Each morn regale on nerve-relaxing tea, Companion meet of languor-loving nymph: Be mine each morn with eager appetite And hunger undiffembled, to repair To friendly butt'ry, there on fmoaking crust And foaming Ale to banquet unrestrain'd, Material breakfaft! Thus in ancient times Our ancestors robust with liberal cups
Ufher'd the morn, unlike the languid fons Of modern days; nor ever had the might Of Britons brave decay'd, had thus they fed, With English Ale improving English worth. With Ale irriguous, undifmay'd I hear The frequent dun afcend my lofty dome Importunate: whether the plaintive voice Of laundress fhrill awake my startled ear, Or taylor with obfequious bow advance; Or groom invade me with defying look And fierce demeanor, whofe emaciate fteeds Had panted oft beneath my goring steel :- In vain they plead or threat; all-powerful Ale Excufes new fupplies, and each defcends With joyless pace and debt-despairing looks. E'en Sp-y with indignant bow retires, Sterneft of duns! and conquer'd quits the field. Why did the gods fuch various bleffings pour On helpless mortals, from their grateful hands » 1. § So foon the fhort-liv'd bounty to recal ? Thus while, improvident of future ill, I quaff the luscious tankard unrestrain'd, And thoughtless riot in ambrofial bliss, Sudden (dire fate of all things excellent.
Th' unpitying burfar's cross affixing hand Blafts all my joys, and ftops my glad career. Nor now the friendly pot-house longer yields A fure retreat when ev'ning shades the skies, Nor* Sheppard, ruthless widow, now vouchsafes The wonted truft, and Winter ticks no more. Thus Adam exil'd from the blissful scenes
Of Eden griev'd, no more in hallow'd bow'r On nect'rine fruits to feaft, fresh fhade or vale No more to vifit, or vine-mantled grot; But all forlorn the naked wilderness,
And unrejoicing folitudes to trace.
Thus too the matchless bard, whose lay refounds The Splendid Shilling's praise, in nightly gloom Of lonesome garret pin'd for cheerful Ale: Whose steps in verfe Miltonic I purfue, Mean follower! like him with honeft love Of Ale divine inspir'd, and love of fong. But long may bounteous Heav'n with watchful care Avert his hapless fate! enough for me,
That burning with congenial flame I dar'd His guiding steps at diftance to pursue,
And fing his fav'rite theme in kindred strains.
Noted alehoufes in Oxford,
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