IV.

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,

Of fport, of fong, of pleasure, of repast;
They start, they ftare, they wheel, they look aghaft:
Sad fervitude! fuch comfortless annoy

May no bold Briton's riper age e'er taste !
Ne Superftition clog his dance of joy,

Ne vision empty, vain, his native bliss destroy.

Near to this dome is found a patch fo green,
On which the tribe their gambols do display;
And at the door impris'ning board is feen,
Left weakly. wights of smaller size should stray;
Eager, perdie, to bask in funny day!

The noises intermix'd, which thence refound,

Do Learning's little tenement betray:

Where fits the dame, disguis'd in look profound,

And eyes her fairy throng, and turns her wheel around.

VI.

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

And in her hand, for fcepter, fhe does wield
Tway birchen sprays; with anxious Fear entwin'd,
With dark Distrust, and fad Repentance fill'd;
And stedfast Hate, and sharp Affliction join'd,

And Fury uncontroul'd, and Chastisement unkind.
VII.

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 fky, or main,
Were the stern god to give his flaves the rein?
And were not she rebellious breasts to quell,
And were not she her statutes to maintain,

The cott no more, I ween, were deem'd the cell, Where comely peace of mind, and decent order dwell.

VIII.

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,
Thro' pious awe, did term it paffing rare;

For they in gaping wonderment abound, [ground. And think, no doubt, fhe been the greatest wight on IX. Albeit

IX.

Albeit ne flatt'ry 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 these she challeng'd, these she held right dear:
Ne would efteem him act as mought behove,
Who fhould not honour'd eld with these revere :
For never title yet fo mean could prove,

But there was eke a Mind which did that title love.

X.

One ancient hen she 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 past deportment claim: And, if Neglect had lavish'd on the ground Fragment of bread, fhe would collect the fame; For well fhe knew, and quaintly could expound, What fin it were to waste the smallest crumb fhe found.

XI.

Herbs too she knew, and well of each could speak,

That in her garden fipp'd the filv'ry dew;

Where no vain flow'r disclos'd a gaudy streak
But herbs for use, and physic, not a few,

;

Of

Of grey renown, within those borders grew:
The tufted Bafil, pun-provcking Thyme,
Fresh Baum, and Mary-gold of cheerful hue;
The lowly Gill that never dares to climb;

And more I fain would fing, difdaining here to rhime.
XII.

Yet Euphrafy may not be left unfung,

That gives dim eyes to wander leagues around;
And pungent Radish, biting infant's tongue;
And Plantain ribb'd that heals the reaper's wound;
And Marj'ram fweet, in fhepherd's pofie found
And Lavender, whofe fpikes of azure bloom
Shall be, ere-while, in arid bundles bound,

To lurk amidst the labours of her loom,

And crown her kerchiefs clean with mickle rare perfume.

XIII.

And here trim Rofmarine, 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 glitt'ring skirts appear.
Oh waffel days; O customs meet and well!
Ere this was banish'd from its lofty sphere:

Simplicity then fought this humble cell,

Nor ever would She more with thane and lordling dwell.

XIV. Here

XIV.

Here oft the dame, on Sabbath's decent eve, Hymned fuch pfalms as Sternhold forth did mete, If winter 'twere, she to her hearth did cleave; But in her garden found a summer seat : Sweet melody! to hear her then repeat How Ifrael's fons, beneath a foreign king, While taunting foe-men did a fong intreat, All, for the Nonce, untuning every string, Up hung their useless lyres-small heart had they to fing.

XV.

For fhe was juft, and friend to virtuous lore,
And pass'd much time in truly virtuous deed;
And, in those Elfins ears, would oft deplore
The times, when Truth by Popish rage did bleed ;
And tortious death was true Devotion's meed;
And fimple Faith in iron chains did mourn,
That would on wooden image place her creed;

And lawny faints in fmould'ring flames did burn:

Ah! dearest Lord, forefend, thilk days fhould e'er return.
XVI.

In elbow chair, like that of Scottish stem
By the sharp tooth of cank'ring eld defac'd,
In which, when he receives his diadem,
Our fovereign prince and liefeft liege is plac'd,

The