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To show his ancient spleen to Mars,
Recover'd from his first surprise, Fierce Vulcan caught him by the am;
As o'er the wave his head he popp’d, Stuck to his skirts, insatiate varlet !
He saw, but scarce believ'd his eyes. And fed with pleasure on the scarlet.
On the same bank where first he dropp’d, Hard by, and in the corner, sate
Th' imperial lubber lies, A bencher grave, with looks sedate,
Stretch'd at his case, careless, content. Smoking his pipe, warm as a toast,
“ Is this the monarch Jove has sent,' And reading over last week's Post;
Said he,“ our warlike troops to lead ? He saw the foe the fort invade,
Ah, 'tis a glorious prince indeed ! And soon smelt out the breach he made; By such an active general led, But not a word—a little sly
The routed mice our arms shall dread, He look’d, 'tis true, and from each eye
Subdued shall quit their claim : A sidelong glance sometimes he sent,
Old Homer shall recant his lays, To bring him news, and watch th' event.
For us new trophies raise, At lengih, upon that tender part
Singour victorious arms, and justify our fame!" Where honor lodges (as of old
Then laughing impudently loud, Authentic Hudibras has told)
He soon alarm’d the dastard crowd. The blust'ring colonel felt a smart;
The croaking nations with contempt
Behold the worthless indolent.
Hoarse treasons, tuneless blasphemies.
With active leap at last upon his back they stricke, * I am not, Sir, inquisitive,"
And on the royal loggerhead in triumph ride, Replied Sir Gravity, " to know Whate'er your Honor's pleas'd to do:
Once more to Jove they prayers address’d, If you will burn your tail to tinder,
And once more Jore grants their request;
A stork he sends, of monstrous size,
Red lightning Aashes in his eyes.
Rul'd by no block, as heretofore, Then, knocking out his pipe with care,
The gazing crowds press'd to his court; Laid down his penny at the bar;
Admire his stately mien, his haughty port, And wrapping round his frieze surtout,
And only not adore.
Addresses of congratulation,
Sent from each loyal corporation,
Full fraught with truth and sense,
Exhausted all their eloquence. “Ω πόποι, οίον δή νυ Θεούς βροτοί απιόωνται. But now, alas! 'twas night; kings must have Εξ ημεων γάρ φασι κάκ' έμμεναι: οι δε και αυτοί Εφήσιν ατασθαλίησιν υπέρ μόρον άλγι' χουσιν.
The Grand Vizier first goes to pot; In a wild state of nature, long
Three Bassas next, happy their lot! The frogs at random liv'd,
Gain'd Paradise by being eat. The weak a prey unto the strong,
“ And this,” said he, “ and this is mine, With anarchy oppress’d and griev'd.
And this by right divine :"
In short, 'twas all for public weal,
Again they beg Almighty Jove
This cruel tyrant to remove.
With fierce resentment in his eyes, A king to rule the fens below.
The frowning Thunderer replies : Jove, smiling, grants their odd request :
“ Those evils which yourselves create, A king, th' indulgent pow'r bestow'd, Such as might suit their genius best :
Rash fools ! ye now repent too late ; A beam of a prodigious size,
Made wretched by the public voice, With all its cumbrous load,
Not through necessity, but choice ! Came tumbling from the skies.
Begone! nor wrest from Heaven some heavier The waters dash against the shore, The hollow caverns roar:
Better bear this, this Stork, than worse.” The rocks return the dreadful sound,
Convulsions shake the ground. The multitude with horror Aed, And in his oozy bed
Oppress'd with happiness, and sick with ease, Each skulking coward hid his head.
Not Heaven itself our fickle minds can please. When all is now grown calm again, Fondly we wish, cloy'd with celestial store, And smoothly glides the liquid plain, The leeks and onions which we loath'd before : A frog more resolute and bold,
Still roving, still desiring, never pleas'd, Peeping with caution from his hold, With plentystarv'd, and e'enwith health diseas'd,
With partial eyes each present good we view,
Tell me, thou soul of her I love,
Ah! tell me whither art thou fled?
Appointed for the happy dead?
And sometimes share the lover's woe; Acres
Where, void of thee, his cheerless home procurrunt, magnum spectaculum
Can now, alas! no coin fort know? uterque.
Hor. Two comrades, as grave
O! if thou hov'rest round my walk, authors
say (But in what chapter, page, or line,
While, under every well-known iree, Ye critics, if ye please, define),
I to thy fancied shadow talk, Had found an oyster in their way.
And every tear is full of thee: Contest and foul debate arose :
Should then the weary eye of grief, Both view'd at once with greedy cycs,
Beside some syn pathetic strean,
In slumber find a short relief,
On Time. Axox.
Sinks all dissolving into pleasure's dreain, Whose kind and charitable heart
E'en then to Time's tremendous verge we roll In human ills still bore a part,
With headlong laste aloog life's surgy streamu. Thrice shook his head, and thus began : “ Neighbours and friends, refer to me
Can gaiety the vanish'd years restore, This doughty matter in dispute,
Or on the withering limbs fresh beauty shed,
Or soothe the sad, inevitable hour,
Or cheer the dark, dark mansions of the lead? Give me the oyster then-'tis well"
Ah! beauty's bloom avails not in the grase, He opens it, and at one sup
Youth's lofty mien, nor age's astui yrace: Gulps the contested trifle
Moulder alike unknown the prince and slare, And smiling, gives to each a shell.
Whelm'd in th' enormous wreck of hunga « Henceforth let foolish discord ccasc,
The thought-fix'd portraiture, the breathing dainty treat;
my God bless you both, and live in peace.”
bust, The arch with prond memorials array'd, The long-liv'd pyramid, shall sink in dist
To dumb oblivion's ever-desert shade. Ye men of Norfolk and of Wales,
Who fed me from her geuile breast,
And hush'd me in her arms 10 rest,
And on my cheek sweet kisse's prest?
Who was it sung sweet lullatis,
And rock'd mne that I should not cry?
Who sat and watch'd my infant head,
When sleeping on my cradle bed,
Who gaz'd upon my heavy eye,
And wept for fear that I should dic?
dew'd thy hearse.
Who ran to help me when I fell,
Who with him the Wasp, his companion, did And would some pretty story tell,
[sting. Or kiss the place to make it well?
But they promis'd that evening to lay by their
My Mother. And the sly little Dormouse crept out of his Who waught my infant lips to pray,
Mole. To love Gol's holy Word and day,
And brought to the feast his blind brother, the And walk in ll'isdom's pleasant way? And the Snail, with his horns peeping out of
his shell, And can I ever cease to be
Came from a great distance, the length of Affectionate and kind to thee,
A mushroom their table, and on it was laid Who wast so very kind to me,
A water-dock leaf, which a table-cloth made.
My Mothers Oh no! The thought I cannot bear,
The viands were various, to each of their taste, And, if God please my life to spare,
And the Bee brought her honey to crown the I hope I shall reward thy care,
My Mother. Then close on his haunches, so solemn and When thou art feeble, old, and
[skies. My healthy arm shall be thy stay,
The Frog from a corner look'd up to the And I will soothe thy pains away,
And the Squirrel, well plcas'd such diversions My Mother.
[from a tree. And when I see thee hang thy head,
Mounted high over head, and look'd down Twill be my turn to watch thy bed,
Then out came the Spider, with finger so fine, And tears of sweet affection shed,
To shew his dexterity on the tight line.
From one branch to another, his cobwebs he
slung, If I should ever dare despise
Then quick as an arrow he darted along.
But just in the middle,-Oh! shocking to My Mother. tell,
(fell. From his rope, in an instant, poor harlequin The Butterfly's Ball. Roscoz. Come take up your hats, and away let us haste Yet he touch'd not the ground, but with talons To the Butterfly's ball, and the Grasshopper's Hung suspended in air, at the end of a thread.
[crew, The trumpeter, Gad-fly, has summond the Then the Grasshopper came with a jerk and a And the revels are now only waiting for
(his wing; you.
Very long was his leg, though but short was So said little Robert, and pacing along,
He took but three leaps, and was soon ont of His merry companions came forth in a throng.
sight, And on the smooth grass, by the side of a
Then chirp'd his own praises the rest of wood, Beneath a broad oak that for ages had stood,
With step so majestic the Snail did advance,
And promis'd the gazers a minuet to dance. Saw the children of earth, and the tenants of air,
But they all laugh'd so loud that he pull'd in For an erening's amusernent together repair.
his head, And there caine the Beetle, so blind and so
And went in his own little chamber to bed. black,
[back. Then, as evening gave way to the shadows of Who carried the Emmet, his friend, on his
Their watchman, the Glow-worm, came out And there was the Gnat and the Dragon-fly too,
[blue. Then home let us hasten, while yet we can With all their relations, green, orange, and
[me. And there came the Moth, with his plumage For no Watchman is waiting for you and for of down,
(brown; So said little Robert, and pacing along, And the Hornet in jacket of yellow and His merry companions return'd in a throng.
with a light.
SONGS, BALLADS, &c. &c.
§ 1. Song. LORD LYTTELTON. SAY, Mira, why is gentle Love
A stranger to that mind, Which pity and esteem can move,
Which can be just and kind?
Is it because you fear to share
The ills that love inolest,
That rack the am'rous breast?
Alas! by some degree of woe
Our paper, pen, and ink, and we, We ev'ry bliss must gain :
Roll up and down our ships at sea, The heart can ne'er a transport know,
With a fa, &c. That never feels a pain.
Then, if we write not by each post,
Think not we are unkind;
By Dutchmen or by wind;
Our tears we'll send a speedier' way,
The tide shall bring thein twice a day,
With a fa, &c.
The king, with wonder and surprise, When I resemble her to thee,
Will swear the seas grow bold; How sweet and fair she seems to be.
Because the tide will higher rise,
Then e'er it did of old :
But let him know it is our tears
Bring floods of tears to Whitehall stairs,
With a fa, &c.
Should foggy Opdam chance to know
Our sad and dismal story;
The Dutch would scorn so weak a foe, Of beauty, from the light retir'd;
And quit their fort at Goree :
For what resistance can they find
From men who've left their hearts behind ? And not blush so to be admir'd.
With a fa, &c.
Let wind and weather do its worst;
Be you to us but kind,
Let Dutchmen vapour, Spaniards curse, How small a part of time they share,
No sorrow we shall find : That are so wondrous sweet and fair.
'Tis then no matter how things go, Or who's our friend, or who's our foe,
With a fa, &c.
To pass our tedious hours away, $ 3. Song. L'Amour Timide. Moore. We throw a merry main;
Or else at serious ombre play; If in that breast, so good, so pure,
But why should we in vain
Each other's ruin thus pursue ? Compassion ever lov'd to dwell,
We were undone when we left you,
With a fa, &c.
But now our fears tempestuous grow, That rends my heart, that checks my tongue, Whilst you, regardless of our woe,
And cast our hopes away;
Sit careless at a play:
With a fa, &c.
When any mournful tune you hear,
That dies in ev'ry note ;
As if it sigh'd with each man's care To all you ladies now at land
For being so remote : We men at sea indite ;
Think then how often love we've made But first would have you understand
To you, when all those tunes were play'd, How hard it is to write ;
With a fa, &c.
In justice you cannot refuse
To think of our distress,
When we for hopes of honor lose
All those designs are but to prove
With a fa, &c.
And now we've told you all our loves, For thy faith, which resembled my own, And likewise all our fears;
For thy soul, which was spotless and true, In hopes this declaration moves
For the joys we together have known,
Ah, Damon, dear shepherd, adieu !
What bliss can hereafter be mine?
Whomever engaging I see,
For fear I should mourn him like thee.
Though the muses should crown me with art, § 5. Song. LORD LANSDOWNE. Though honor and fortune should join;
Since thou art denied to my heart,
What bliss can hereafter be mine?
Ah Dåmon, dear shepherd, farewell!
Thy grave with sad osiers I'll bind; Let glittering fops in court be great,
Though no more in one cottage we dwell, For pay let armies move:
I can keep thee for ever in mind. Beauty should have no other bait
Each morning I'll visit alone
His ashes who lov'd me so well, But gentle vows and love.
And murmur each eve o'er his stone, If on those endless charms you lay
“ Ah Damon, dear shepherd, farewell!" The value that's their due; Kings are themselves too poor to pay, A thousand worlds too few.
$ 8. Song. Moore. But if a passion without vice, Without disguise or art,
HARK! hark ! 'tis a voice from the tomb ! Ah, Celia ! if true love's your price,
Come, Lucy, it cries, come away!
of my Colin has room
I come, my dear shepherd, I come; $ 6. Song. Sir Car Scroope..
Ye friends and companions, adieu !
I haste to my Colin's dark home, One night, when all the village slept,
To die on his bosom so true. Myrtillo's sad despair
All mournful the midnight bell rung, The wretched shepherd waking kept,
When Lucy, sad Lucy, arose ; To tell the woods his care : “ Begone,” said he, fond thoughts, begone!
And forth to the green turf she sprung,
Where Colin's pale ashes repose. Eyes, give your sorrows o’er!
All wet with the night's chilling dew, Why should you waste your tears for one
Her bosom embrac'd the cold ground; Who thinks on you no more?
While stormy winds over her blew, “ Yet, O ye birds, ye flocks, ye pow'rs
And night-ravens croak’d alt around.
How long, my lov'd Colin, she cried,
How long must thy Lucy complain? Yon stars above (my cruel foes)
How long shall the grave my love hide? Have heard how she has sworn,
How long ere it join us again? A thousand times, that, like to those,
For thee thy fond shepherdess liv’d, Her flame should ever burn!
With thee o'er the world would she fly;
For thee has she sorrow'd and griev'd, « But since she's lost, О let me have
For thee would she lie down and die.
Alas! what avails it how dear
Thy, Lucy was once to her swain !
Her face like the lily so fair,
And eyes that gave light to the plain!
The shepherd that lov'd her is gone, But never rose again.
That face and those eyes charm no more ; And Lucy, forgot and alone,
To death shall her Colin deplore.
While thus she lay sunk in despair, $ 7. Pastoral Elegy.
And mourn'd to the echoes around, Ah, Damon, dear shepherd, adieu !
Inflam'd all at once grew the air, By love and first nature allied,
And thunder shook dreadful the ground ! Together in fondness we grew;
I hear the kind call, and obey, Ah, ould we together had died !
O Colin, receive me, she cried :