Or fhepherd boy, they featly foot the green, 450 While from their steps a circling verdure springs, But fly from towns and dread the courts of kings.

Mean-while fad Kenna, loth to quit the grove, Hung o'er the body of her breathless love,

Try'd ev'ry art (vain arts!) to change his doom, 473 And vow'd (vain vows!) to join him in the tomb. What could fhe do? the Fates alike deny

The dead to live or Fairy forms to die.

An herb there grows, (the fame old Homer * tells Ulyffes bore to rival Circe's spells)

Its root is ebon-black, but fends to light

A ftem that bends with flow'rets milky white,
Moly the plant, which gods and Fairies know,
But fecret kept from mortal men below;
On his pale limbs its virt'ous juice fhe shed,
And murmur'd myftick numbers o'er the dead,
When lo! the little shape by magick pow'r
Grew lefs and lefs, contracted to a flow'r,
A flow'r that first in this sweet Garden fmil'd,
To virgins facred, and the Snowdrop styl❜d.

480

485

490 The newborn plant with fweet regret she view'd, Warm'd with her fighs, and with her tears bedew'd, Its ripen'd feeds from bank to bank convey'd, And with her lover whiten'd half the fhade: Thus won from death each spring she fees him grow, And glories in the vegetable snow,

* Ody T. Lib. x.

496

Which now increas'd thro' wide Britannia's plains
Its parent's warmth and spotless name retains,
First leader of the flow'ry race aspires,

500

505

And foremost catches the fun's genial fires,
Mid frosts and fnows triumphant dares appear,
Mingles the feafons and leads on the year.
Deferted now of all the pigmy race
Nor man nor Fairy touch'd this guilty place:
In heaps on heaps for many a rolling age
It lay accurft, the mark of Neptune's rage,
Till great Naffau recloth'd the defert fhade,
Thence facred to Britannia's monarchs made.
'Twas then the green-rob'd nymph, fair Kenna, came
(Kenna! that
gave the neighb'ring town its name)
Proud when the faw th' ennobled Garden fhine 511
With nymphs and heroes of her lovers line,
She vow'd to grace the manfions once her own,
And picture out in plants the Fairy town:
To far-fam'd Wife her flight unfeen the fped,
And with gay prospects fill'd the craftsman's head,
Soft in his fancy drew a pleasing scheme,

And plann'd that landscape in a morning dream.

With the sweet view the fire of Gardens fir'd
Attempts the labour by the nymph infpir'd,
The walls and fireets in rows of yew defigns,
And forms the town in all its ancient lines;
The corner trees he lifts more high in air,
And girds the palace with a verdant square;

515

520

Nor knows while round he views the rifing scenes He builds a city as he plants his greens.

With a fad pleasure the aerial maid

This image of her ancient realm survey'd,

526

How chang'd how fall'n from its primeval pride! Yet here each moon the hour her lover dy'd, 530 Each moon his folemn obfequies fhe pays,

And leads the dance beneath pale Cynthia's rays, Pleas'd in thefe Shades to head her Fairy train, 533 And grace the Groves where Albion's kinsmen reign.

THERSITES, OR, THE LORDLING,

THE GRANDSON OF A BRICKLAYER, GREAT-GRAND-
SON OF A BUTCHER.

THERSITES of amphibious breed,
Motley fruit of mongrel feed,
By the dam from Lordlings sprung,
By the fire exhal'd from dung :
Think on ev'ry vice in both;
Look on him and see their growth.

View him on the mother's fide

Fill'd with falfehood, fpleen, and pride,
Pofitive and overbearing,

Changing still and still adhering,
Spiteful, peevish, rude, untoward,

Fierce in tongue, in heart a coward:

3

IO

When his friends he most is hard on
Cringing comes to beg their pardon;
Reputation ever tearing,

Ever dearest friendship fwearing;
Judgment weak and paffion strong,
Always various always wrong;

Provocation never waits

Where he loves or where he hates;
Talks whate'er comes in his head,
Wishes it were all unfaid.

Let me now the vices trace

From his father's fcoundrel race.

Who could give the looby fuch airs?
Were they mafons, were they butchers?
Herald lend the Mufe an anfwer,
From his atavus and grandfire;

15

20

25

This was dext'rous at his trowel,
That was bred to kill a cow well:

30

Hence the greafy clumsy mien
In his dress and figure feen,
Hence that mean and fordid foul,
Like his body rank and foul,
Hence that wild fufpicious peep
Like a rogue that steals a fheep,
Hence he learn'd the butcher's guile
How to cut a throat and smile,
Like a butcher doom'd for life
In his mouth to wear his knife,

35

40

66

A POEM IN PRAISE OF

THE HORNBOOK,

WRITTEN UNDER A FIT OF THE GOUT.

Magni magna patrant, nos non nifi ludicra

-Podagra hæc otia fecit."

HAIL, ancient Book! most venerable Code!
Learning's first cradle and its laft abode!
The huge unnumber'd volumes which we fee
By lazy plagiaries are ftol'n from thee;

36