And this perhaps, who, cenfuring the defign,
Low lays the house which that of cards doth build, Shall Dennis be! if rigid fate incline,
And many an epic to his rage fhall yield;
And many a poet quit th' Aonian field;
And, four'd by age, profound he shall appear,
As he who now with 'fdainful fury thrill'd
Surveys mine work; and levels many a fineer,
And furls his wrinkly front, and cries, "What stuff is
" here?"
But now Dan Phoebus gains the middle skie,
And liberty unbars her prifon-door;
And like a rushing torrent out they fly,
And now the graffy cirque han cover'd o'er
With boisterous revel-rout and wild uproar;
A thoufand ways in wanton rings they run,
Heaven fhield their fhort-liv'd paftimes, I implore'
For well may freedom erft fo dearly won,
Appear to British elf more gladsome than the fun.
Enjoy, poor imps! enjoy your fportive trade,
And chafe gay flies, and cull the fairest flowers;
For when my bones in grafs-green fods are laid;
For never may ye tafte more careless hours
In knightly caftles or in ladies bowers.
O vain to feck delight in earthly thing!
But moft in courts where proud ambition towers; Deluded wight! who weens fair peace can fpring Beneath the pompous dome of kefar or of king.
See in each sprite fome various bent appear!
Thefe rudely carol moft incondite lay;
Those fauntering on the green, with jocund leer
Salute the ftranger paffing on his way;
Some builden fragile tenements of clay;
Some to the standing lake their courses bend,
With pebbles fmooth at duck and drake to play;
Thilk to the huxter's favory cottage tend,
In pastry kings and queens th' allotted mite to spend.
Here, as each season yields a different store,
Each feafon's ftores in order ranged been;
Apples with cabbage-net y-cover'd o'er,
Galling full fore th' unmone'y'd wight, are seen;
And goofe-b'rie clad in livery red or green;
And here of lovely dye, the catharine pear,
Fine pear! as lovely for thy juice, I ween:
may no wight e'er pennylefs come there,
Left fmit with ardent love he pine with hopeless care!
See! cherries here, ere cherries yet abound,
With thread fo white in tempting pofies ty'd,
Scattering like blooming maid their glances round,
With pamper'd look draw little eyes afide;
And must be bought, though penury betide.
The plumb all azure and the nut all brown,
And here each feafon do thofe cakes abide,
Whole honour'd names *th' inventive city own,
Rendering through Britain's ifle Salopia's praifes known.
Admir'd Salopia! that with venial pride
Eyes her bright form in Severn's ambient wave,
Fam'd for her loyal cares in perils try'd,
Her daughters lovely, and her ftriplings brave:
Ah! midft the reft, may flowers adorn his grave,
Whofe art did first thefe dulcet cates display!
A motive fair to learning's imps he gave,
Who chearlefs o'er her darkling region stray;
Till reafon's morn arife, and light them on their way.
I. On a Tablet against a Root-House.
HERE, in cool grot and moffy cell,
We rural fays and faeries dwell;
Though rarely feen by mortal eye,
When the pale moon, ascending high,
Darts through yon limes her quivering beams,
We frisk it near these crystal streams.
Her beams, reflected from the wave,
Afford the light our revels crave;
The turf, with daifies broider'd o'er
Exceeds, we wot, the Parian floor;
Nor yet for artful ftrains we call,
But liften to the water's fall.
Would you then taste our tranquil scene,
Be fure your bofoms be ferene;
Devoid of hate, devoid of ftrife,
Devoid of all that poisons life:
And much it 'vails you in their place,
To graft the love of human race.
And tread with awe these favour'd bowers,
Nor wound the fhrubs, nor bruise the flowers;
So may your path with fweets abound;
So may your couch with reft be crown'd!
But harm betide the wayward fwain,
Who dares our hallow'd haunts profane!
GULIELMI SOMERVILE.
And on the opposite fide,
Debitâ fpargens lacrymâ favillam
III. To Mr. DODSLEY.
OME then, my friend, thy fylvan tafte difplay,
Come hear thy Faunus tune his ruftic lay;
Ah, rather come, and in thefe dells difown
The care of other ftrains, and tune thine own.
IV. On the Back of a Gothic Seat.
HEPHERD, would' thou here obtain
Pleafure unalloy'd with pain?
Joy that fuits the rural sphere?
Gentle Shepherd, lend an ear.
Learn to relifh calm delight,
Verdant vales and fountains bright;
Trees that nod on floping hills,
Caves that echo tinkling rills.
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