LYDFORD LAW. I OFT had heard of Lydford law, At first I wonder'd at it much, They have a castle on a hill, The vanes blown down by weather: To lie therein one night, 'tis guess'd, "Twere better to be stoned and press'd, Or hang'd-now choose you whether. When I beheld it, Lord! thought I, The prince a hundred pounds hath sent Some forty-five pounds more had paid There till the day of doom. One lies there for a seam of malt, Two sureties for a noble : If this be true, or else false news, More to these men that lie in lurch, Three houses standing, and ten down. Whereby you may consider well, The people all within this clime One told me, in King Cæsar's time The town is run away. The steward. + Attorneys of the court. Oh, Cæsar! if thou there didst reign, While one house stands come there again; Come quickly while there is one. If thou stay but a little bit, But five years more, they will commit To see it thus much grieved was I, Now, by good luck, I know not how, To nine good stomachs, with our wig, This diet was our bounds; One glass of drink I got by chance, I kiss'd the mayor's hand of the town, A piece of coral to the mace, Would make a good child's whistle. At six o'clock I came away, And pray'd for those who were to stay Wide and ope the winds so roar, W. BROWNE COLEMIRA. A CULINARY ECLOGUE. Nec tantum Veneris, quantum studiosa culinæ. Insensible of soft desire, More partial to the kitchen fire NIGHT'S sable clouds had half the globe o'erspread, And silence reign'd, and folks were gone to bed, When Love, which gentle sleep can ne'er inspire, Had seated Damon by the kitchen fire. Pensive he lay, extended on the ground, To all his plaints the sleeping curs reply, 'Could I (he cried) express how bright a grace Adorns thy morning hands and well wash'd face, Thou wouldst, Colemira, grant what I implore, And yield me love, or wash thy face no more. Ah! who can see, and seeing not admire, Whene'er she sets the pots upon the fire! Her hands outshine the fire and redder things; Her eyes are blacker than the pots she brings. But sure no chamber-damsel can compare, When in meridian lustre shines my fair, When warm'd with dinner's toil, in pearly rills, Adown her goodly cheek the sweat distills. 'Oh! how long, how ardently desire, With her! I should not envy George his queen, Though she in royal grandeur deck'd be seen; Whilst rags, just sever'd from my fair one's gown, In russet pomp and greasy pride hung down. Ah! how it does my drooping heart rejoice, When in the hall I hear thy mellow voice! How would that voice exceed the village bell, Wouldst thou but sing, "I like thee passing well!" "When from the hearth she bade the pointers go, How soft, how easy did her accents flow! "Get out (she cried); when strangers come to sup, One ne'er can raise those snoring devils up." |