Efteem could warrant, weary'd heaven with prayers
To shield that tender breaft he left forlorn.
He ceas'd, and to the cloister's penfive scene
Elvira fhap'd her folitary way.
"Auditæ voces, vagitus & ingens, Infantumque animæ flentes in limine primo." VIRG.
ADVERTISEMENT.
What particulars in Spenfer were imagined moft proper for the Author's imitation on this occafion, are his language, his fimplicity, his manner of defcription, and a peculiar tenderness of fentiment remarkable throughout his works.
H me! full forely is my heart forlorn,
To think how modeft worth neglected lies;
While partial fame doth with her blafs adorn
Such deeds alone, as pride and pomp difguife;
Deeds of ill fort, and mifchievous emprize:
Lend me thy clarion, goddefs! let me try
To found the praife of merit, ere it dies;
Such as I oft have chaunced to efpy,
Loft in the dreary fhades of dull obfcurity.
In every village mark'd with little fpire,
Em bower'd in trees, and hardly known to fame,
There dwells, in lowly shed, and mean attire,
A matron old, whom we school-miftrefs name;
Who boafts unruly brats with birch to tame;
They grieven fore, in piteous durance pent,
Aw'd by the power of this relentless danie;
And oft-times, on vagaries idly bent,
For unkempt hair, or task unconn'd, are forely 'fhent.
And all in fight doth rise a birchen tree,
Which learning near her little dome did stowe;
Whilom a twig of fmall regard to fee,
Though now fo wide its waving branches flow;
And work the fimple vaffals mickle woe.;
For not a wind might curl the leaves that blew,
But their limbs fhudder'd, and their pulse beat low;
And as they look'd they found their horror grew,
And shap'd it into rods, and tingled at the view.
So have I feen (who has not, may conceive,)
A lifeless phantom near a garden plac'd;
So doth it wanton birds of peace bereave,
Offport, of fong, of pleasure, of repast;
They start, they ftare, they wheel, they look aghast;
Sad fervitude! fuch comfortless annoy
May no bold Briton's riper age e'er taste!
Ne fuperftition clog his dance of joy,
De vifion empty, vain, his native blifs destroy.
Near to this dome is found a patch fo green,
On which the tribe their gamboles do display;
And at the door imprifoning board is feen,
Left weakly wights of fmaller fize should stray;
Eager, perdie, to bask in funny day!
The noifes intermix'd, which thence refound,
Do learning's little tenement betray:
Where fits the dame, difguis'd in look profound, And eyes her fairy throng, and turns her wheel around.
Her cap, far whiter than the driven fnow,
Emblem right meet of decency does yield:
Her apron dy'd in grain, as blue, I trowe,
As is the hare-bell that adorns the field :
And in her hand, for fcepter, fhe does wield
Tway birchen fprays; with anxious fear entwin'd,
With dark diftruft, and fad repentance fill'd;
And stedfaft hate, and fharp affliction join'd,
And fury uncontroul'd, and.chaftisement unkind.
Few but have ken'd, in femblance meet pourtray'd,
The childish faces of old Eol's train;
Libs, Notus, Aufter: these in frowns array'd,
How then would fare or earth, or sky, or main,
Were the ftern god to give his flaves the rein?
And were not the rebellious breafts to quell,
And were not fhe her ftatutes to maintain,
The cot no more, I ween, were deem'd the cell, Where comely peace of mind, and decent order dwell.
A ruffet ftole was o'er her fhoulders thrown;
A ruffet kirtle fenc'd the nipping air;
'Twas fimple ruffet, but it was her own;
"Twas her own country bred the flock fo fair!
'Twas her own labour did the fleece prepare;
And, footh to fay, her pupils, rang'd around,
Through pious awe, did term it paffing rare;
For they in gaping wonderment abound,
And think, no doubt, the been, the greateft wight on ground.
Albeit ne flattery did corrupt her truth,
Ne pompous title did debauch her ear;
Goody, good-woman, goffip, n'aunt, forfooth,
Or dame, the fole additions fhe did hear;
Yet thefe fhe challeng'd, thefe fhe held right dear
Ne would efteem him act as mought behove,
Who fhould not honour'd eld with thefe revere:
For never title yet fo mean could prove,
But there was eke a mind which did that title love.
One ancient hen the took delight to feed, The plodding pattern of the bufy dame; Which, ever and anon, impell'd by need, Into her school, begirt with chickens, came; Such favour did her paft deportment claim : And, if neglect had lavish'd on the ground Fragment of bread, fhe would collect the fame; For well the knew, and quaintly could expound, "What fin it were to waste the fmalleft crumb the found.
Herbs too fhe knew, and well of each could speak That in her garden fip'd the filvery dew; Where no vain flower difclos'd a gawdy streak; But herbs for ufe, and phyfic, not a few, Of grey renown, within those borders grew : The tufted bafil, pun-provoking thyme, Fresh baum, and mary-gold of chearful hue; The lowly gill, that never dares to climb; And more I fain would fing, difdaining here to rhyme.
Yet euphrafy may not be left unfung,
That gives dim eyes to wander leagues around;
And pungent radish, biting infants tongue;
And plantain ribb'd, that heals the reaper's wound ;
And marjoram fweet, in fhepherd's pofie found;
And lavender, whose spikes of azure bloom
Shall be, ere-while, in arid bundles bound,
To lurk amidft the labours of her loom,
And crown her kerchiefs clean, with mickle rare perfume.
And here trim rosemarine, that whilom crown'd
The daintieft garden of the proudest peer;
Ere, driven from its envy'd fite, it found
A facred fhelter for its branches here;
Where edg'd with gold its glittering skirts appear.
Oh waffel days! O cuftoms meet and well!
Ere this was banish'd from its lofty sphere:
Simplicity then fought this humble cell,
Nor ever would fhe more with thane and lordling dwell.
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