The matron fate; and fome with rank fhe grac'd, Right well she knew each temper to descry; 1 And fome entice with pittance small of praise; Lo now with ftate fhe utters the command! The work fo gay, that on their backs is seen, St. George's high atchievements does declare; On which thilk wight that has y-gazing been, Kens the forth-coming rod, unpleasing fight, I ween! XIX. Ah XIX. Ah luckless he, and born beneath the beam a As erft the bard by Mulla's filver stream,' Oft, as he told of deadly dolorous plight, Sigh'd as he fung, and did in tears indite. For brandishing the rod, fhe doth begin To loose the brogues, the stripling's late delight! And down they drop; appears his dainty skin, Fair as the furry coat of whiteft Ermilin. XX. O ruthful scene! when from a nook obscure, All playful as she fate, fhe grows demure; Nor longer can fhe now her fhrieks command On thee fhe calls, on thee her parent dear! And foon a flood of tears begins to flow; And gives a loose at last to unavailing woe. But ah! what pen his piteous plight may trace? The pallid hue that dyes his looks amain? Ne hopeth ought of sweet reprieve to gain; Or when from high fhe levels well her aim, [claim. And, thro' the thatch, his cries each falling stroke proXXIII. The other tribe, aghaft, with fore dismay, Attend, and conn their tasks with mickle care: By turns, aftony'd, every twig furvey, And, from their fellow's hateful wounds, beware ; Knowing, I wift, how each the fame may share; 'Till Fear has taught them a performance meet, And to the well-known cheft the dame repair; Whence oft with fugar'd cates fhe doth 'em greet, And ginger-bread y-rare; now, certes, doubly sweet! XXIV. See XXIV. See to their feats they hye with merry glee, All but the wight of bum y-galled, he Abhorreth bench and stool, and fourm, and chair; (This hand in mouth y-fix'd, that rends his hair;) And eke with fnubs profound, and heaving breaft, Convulfions intermitting! does declare His grievous wrong; his dame's unjust beheft; And scorns her offer'd love, and fhuns to be carefs'd. XXV. His face befprent with liquid crystal shines, All, all, but fhe, regret this mournful hour: Yet hence the youth, and hence the flow'r, fhall claim, If so I deem aright, transcending worth and fame. XXVI. Behind fome door, in melancholy thought, Mindlefs of food, he, dreary caitiff! pines; VOL. I. And And deems it fhame, if he to peace inclines; And still the more to pleasure him fhe's bent, The more doth he, perverse, her haviour past resent. Ah me! how much I fear left pride it be! All coward arts, is valour's gen'rous heat; XXVIII. Yet nurs'd with skill, what dazling fruits appear Ev'n now fagacious Forefight points to show A little bench of heedlefs bishops here, Or bard fublime, if bard may e'er be so, ! As Milton, Shakespeare, names that ne'er fhall dye! Though now he crawl along the ground fo low, Nor weeting how the Muse should foar on high, Wifheth, poor ftarvling elf! his paper-kite may fly. XXIX. And I |