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Here ended all the phantom-play;

By this the stars began to wink;
They smelt the fresh approach of day, They shriek, they fly, the tapers sink,
And heard a cock to crow;

And down ydrops the knight :
The whirling wind, that bore the crowd For never spell by fairie laid
Has clapp'd the door, and whistled loud, With strong enchantment, bound a glade
To warn them all to go.

Beyond the length of night. Then screaming all at once they Ay,

Chill, dark, alone, adreed he lay, And all at once the tapers die;

Till up the welkin rose the day, Poor Edwin falls to floor :

Then deem'd the dole was o'er : Forlorn his state, and dark the place,

But wot ye well his harder lot; Was never wight in such a case

His seely back the bunch had got Through all the land before !

Which Edwin lost afore. But, soon as dan Apollo rose,

This tale a Sybil nurse ared; Full jolly creature home he goes !

She softly stroak'd my youngling head, He feels his back the less ;

And when the tale was done : His honest tongue and steady mind

“ Thus some are born, my son,” she cries, Had rid him of the lump behind,

“ With base impediments to rise, Which made him want success :

And some are born with none. With lusty livelyhed he talks,

But virtue can itself advance He seems a-dau ing as he walks;

To what the fav’rite fools of chance His story soon took wind;

By fortune seem'd design'd; And beauteous Edith sees the youth

Virtue can gain the odds of fate,
Endow'd with courage, sense, and truth, And from itself shake off the weight
Without a bunch behind !

Upon th' unworthy mind.”
The story told, Sir Topaz mor’d,
(The youth of Edith erst approv'd)
To see the revel scene :

§ 133. Song. Thomson.
At close of eve he leaves his home,
And wends to find the ruin'd done

For ever, Fortune! wilt thou prove All on the gloomy plain.

An unrelenting foe to love, As there he bides, it so befel,

And when we meet a mutual heart, The wind came rustling down a dell,

Come in between, and bid us part; A shaking seiz'd the wall:

Bid us sigh on from day to day, Up sprung the tapers, as before,

And wish, and wish the soul away, The fairies bragly foot the floor,

Till youth and genial years are flown, And music fills the ball.

And all the life of love is gone? But, certes, sorely sunk with woe

But busy, busy, still art thou,

To bind the loveless, joyless vow,
Sir Topaz sees the elfin show,
His spirits in him die;

The heart from pleasure to delude,
When Oberon cries, “ A man is near;

To join the gentle to the rude.

For once, O Fortune! hear my prayer,
A mortal passion, cleped fear,
Hangs flagging in the sky."

And I absolve thy future care ;
With that sir Topaz, hapless youth !

All other blessings I resign,
In accents falt’ring age for ruth,

Make but the dear Amanda mine.
Intreats them pity graunt;
For als he been a mister wight
Betray'd by wand'ring in the night

§ 134. The Barber's Nuptials. To tread the circling haunt.

In Liquorpond-street, as is well known to « Ah, losel vile!” at once they roar,

many, " And little skill'd of fairie lore,

An artist resided, who shav'd for a penny, Thy cause to come we know :

Cut hair for three halfpence, for three-pence Now has thy kestrell courage fell ;

he bled, And fairies, since a lye you tell,

And would draw for a groat every tooth in your Are free to work thee woe."

head. Then Will who bears the wispy fire To trail the swains among the mire,

What annoy'd other folks nerer spoild his

repose, The captive upward Aung; There, like a tortoise in a shop,

'Twas the same thing to him whether stocks

fell or rose : He dangled from the chamber-top,

For blast and for mildew he car'd not a pin; Where whilom Edwin hung. The revel now proceeds apace,

Hiscrops never fail'd, for they grew on the chin. Deftly they frisk it o'er the place,

Unvex'd by the cares thatambition and state has, They sit, they drink, and eat;

Contented' he din'd on his daily potatoes ; The time with frolic mirth beguile,

And the pence that he earn'd by excision of And poor sir Topaz hangs the while,

bristie Till all the rout retreat.

Were nightly devored to wetting his whistle.

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When copper ran low he made light of the But the barber persisted (ah, could I relato 'em) matter,

[Platter, To ply her with compliments soft as pomatum; Drank his purl upon tick at the old Pewter And took ev'ry occasion to flatter and praise her, Read the news, and as deep in the secret appeard Till she fancied his wit was as keen as his razor. As if he had lather'd the minister's beard.

He protested besides, if she'd grant his petition, But Cupid, who trims men of every station, She should live like a lady of rank and condition; And 'twixt barbers and beaux makes no discri- | And to Billing gale market no longer repair, inination,

But himself all her business would do toa hair. Would not let this superlative shaver alone, Till he tried if his heart was as hard as his hone. Her smiles, he asserted, would melt even rocks,

Nay, the fire of her eyes would consume bare The fair one whose charms did the barber bers' blocks, inthral,

[stall. On insensible objects bestow animation, At the end of Fleet-market, of fish kept a And give to old periwigs regeneration. As red as ber cheek was no lobster e'er seen, Not an eel that she sold was so soft as her skin. With fair speeches cajol'd, as you'd tickle a


(hold out: By love strange effects have been wrought, we 'Gainst the barber the fish-wife no more could are told,

[cold; He applied the right bait, and with Battery he In all countries and climates, hot, temp'rate, or caught her : Thus the heart of our barber love scorch'd like Without fate'ry a female's a fish out of water.

a coal, Though 'tis very well known he liv'd under the The state of her heart when the barber once pole.

guess'd, First, he courted his charmer in sorrowful And as briskly bestirr'd hiin, the charmer em

Love's siege with redoubled exertion he pressid, fashion, And lied like a lawyer to move her compassion: As the wash-ball that dances and froths in his

bracing, He should perish, he swore, did his suit not

bason. succeed, And a barber to slay was a barbarous deed. The fame to allay that their bosoms did so

burn, Then he alter'd his tone, and was heard to de

[Holborn, If valor deservd the regard of the fair, [clare, They set out for the church of St. Andrew in That his courage was tried, though he scorn: Where tonsors and trulls, country Dicks and

their cousins, to disclose How many brave fellows he'd took by the nose.

In the halter of wedlock are tied up by dozens. For his politics too, they were thoroughly The worthies at Rag-tair old caxons who barter,

The nuptials to grace, came from erery quarter known, A patriot he was to the very

backbone; Who the coverings of judges' and counsellors' Wilkes he gratis had shay'd for the good of the

nobs nation,


Cut down into majors, queues, seratches, and

bobs : And he held the Wig Club in profound veneFor his tenets religious--he could well expound Muscle-mongers and oyster-men, crimps and Emanuel Swedenborg's myst'ries profound,

coalheavers, And new doctrines could broach with the best And butchers with marrow-bónes smiting their of 'em all ;

cleavers : For a periwig-maker ne'er wanted a caul.

Shrimp-scalders and bug-killers, tailors and

tilers, Indignantshe answer'd: “Nochin-scraping sot Boys, botchers, bawds, bailiffs, and blackShall be fasten'd to me by the conjugal knot; No! to Tyburn repair, if a noose you must tie:

pudding boilers. Other fish I have got, Mr. Tonsor, to fry: From their voices united such melody flow'd, “ Holborn-bridge and Blackfriars my triumphs | As the Abbey ne'er witness'd, nor Totinham can tell,


Court-road; From Billingsgate beauties I've long borne the While St. Andrew's brave bells did so loud and Nay, tripemen and fishmongers vie for my fa. You'd have given ten pounds to 've been out

so clear ring, Then d'ye think I 'll take up with a two-penny

of their hearing shaver ?

For his fee, when the parson this couple had “ Let dory, or turbot the sov'reign of fish,

join'd, Cheek by jowl with red-herring be servd in As no cash was forthcoming, he took it in one dish;

kind :

(chin, Let sturgeon and sprats in one pickle unite, So the bridegroom dismantled his rer'rence's When I angle for husbands, and barbers shall And the bride entertain'd him with pilchards




and gin.

$ 135. William and Margaret. . Now birds did sing, and Morning smild,

And show'd her glittering head;
When all was wrapt in dark midnight, Pale William shook in every limb,
And all were fast asleep,

Then, raving, left his bed.
In glided Margaret's grimly ghost,
And stood at William's feet.

He bied him to the fatal place

Where Marg'ret's body lay, Her face was like the April mora

And stretch'd him on the green-grass turf Clad in a wintry cloud;

That wrapt her breathless clay :
And clay-cold was her lily hand,
That held the sable shroud.

And thrice he call’d on Marg'ret's name,

And thrice he wept full sore; So shall the fairest face appear

Then laid his cheek to the cold earth, When youth and years are flown;

And word spoke never more.
Such is the robe that kings must wear

When death has reft their crown.
Her bloom was like the springing flow'r

§ 136. Lucy and Colin. That sips the silver dew;

Of Leinster, fam'd for maidens fair, The rose was budded in her cheek,

Bright Lucy was the grace; And opening to the view.

Nor e'er did Liffy's limpid stream But love had, like the canker-worm,

Reflect so fair a face; Consum'd her early prime;

Till luckless love, and pining care, The rose grew pale, and left her cheek ;

Impair'd her rosy hue, She died before her time,

Her coral lips and damask cheeks,

And eyes of glossy blue. Awake! she cried, thy true-love calls,

O have you seen a lily pale, Come from her midnight grave;

When beating rains descend ? Now let thy pity hear the maid

So droop'd the slow-consuming maid, Thy love refus'd to save:

Her life now near its end.

By Lucy warn'd, of flattering swains
This is the dark and fearful hour
When injur'd ghosts complain :

Take heed, ye easy fair;

Of vengeance due to broken vows,
Now dreary graves give up their dead,
To haunt the faithless swain.

Ye perjur'd swains, beware.

Three times, all in the dead of night, Bethink thee, William, of thy fault,

A bell was heard to ring, Thy pledge and broken oath,

And, shrieking at her window thrice, And give me back my maiden vow,

A raven Happ'd his wing; And give me back my troth.

Too well the love-lorn inaiden knew

The soleinn boding sound,
How could you say my face was fair,

And thus in dying words bespoke
And yet that face forsake?
How could you win my virgin heart,

The virgins weeping round:
Yet leave that heart to break ?

I hear a voice you cannot hear,

Which says, I must not stay ; How could you promise love to me,

I see a hand you cannot see,
And not that promise keep?

Which beckons me away.
Why did you swear my eyes were bright, By a false heart, and broken vows,
Yet leave those eyes to weep?

In early youth I die :

Am I to blame because his bride
How could you say my lip was sweet,

Is thrice as rich as I?
And made the scarlet pale?
And why did I, young, witless maid, Ah Colin! give not her thy vows,
Believe, the flattering tale ?

Vows due to me alone;

Nor thou, fond maid, receive his kiss, That face, alas! no more is fair,

Nor think him all thy own. That lip no longer red ;

To-morrow in the church to wed," Dark are my eyes, now clos'd in death,

Inpatient both prepare; And every charm is fled.

But know, fond maid, and know, false man, The hungry worm my sister is,

That Lucy will be there ! This winding-sheet I wear;

There bear my corpse, ye comrades, bear, And cold and weary lasts our night

The bridegroom blithe to meet; Till that last morn appear.

He in his wedding-trim so gay,

I in my winding-sheet. But hark! the cock has warn'd me hence: She spoke, she died ! her corse was borne, A long and last adieu !

The bridegroom blithe to meet, Come see, false man! how low she lies He in his wedding-trim so gay, That died for love of you.

She in her winding-sheet.


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Then what were perjur'd Colin's thoughts ? When, fairly run down, the fox yields up his How were those nuptials kept?

breath, The bridemen Alock'd round Lucy, dead, The high-meuiled racer is in at the death.

And all the village wept. Compassion, shame, remorse, despair,

Grown aged, us'd up, and turn'd out of the

stud, At once his bosom swell;

[come blood; The damps of death bedew'd his brows,

Lame, spavin'd, and wind-gall’d, but yet with He shook, he groan'd, he fell.

While knowing postilions his pedigree trace,

Tell his dain won this sweepstakes, his sire From the vain bride (ah, bride no more !)

gain'd that race;

[o'er, The varying crimson Aed ;

And what matches he won to the costlers count When, stretch'd before her rival's corse, As they loiter their time at some hedge-aleShe saw her husband dead.

house door; He, to his Lucy's new-made grave

While the harness sore galls, and the spurs his Convey'd by trembling swains,

sides goad, One mould with her, beneath one sod, The high-mettled racer's a hack on the road. For ei er now remains.

Till, at last, having labor'd, drudg'd early Oft at this grave the constant hind,

and late, And plighted maid are seen;

Bow'd down by degrees, he bends to his fate; With garlands gay, and true-love knots,

Blind, old, lean, and feeble, he tugs round a They deck the sacred green.

mill, But, swain forsworn! whoe'er thou art,

(stands still.

Or draws sand, till the sand of his hour-glass This hallow'd spot forbear; Remember Colin's dreadful fate,

And now, cold and lifeless, expos'd to the view

In the very same cart which he yesterday drew, And fear to meet him there.

While a pitying crowd his sad relics surrounds,

The high-mettled racer is sold for the hounds! § 137. Song. Dibdin. I saw what seem'd a harmless child, With wings and how

§ 139. Poor Jack. By the same. And aspect mild,

Go patter to lubbers and swabs, d'ye see, Who sobb'd, and sigh'd, and pin'd,

'Bout danger, and fear, and the like; And beggd I would some boon bestow

A tight-water boat and gool sea-room give me, On a poor little boy, stone-blind.

And t'ent to a little l'll strike: Not aware of the danger, I instant comply'd, Though the tempest top-gallant masts smack When he drew from his quiver a dart,

smooth should smite, And cry'd, “ My power you shall know !" And shiver each splinter of wood; Then he levell’d his bow,

Clear the wreck, stow the yards, and house And wounded me right in the heart.

every thing light, And under reefd foresail we'll scud. Avast! nor don't think me a milksop so soft

To be taken for trilles aback, $ 138. The Race Horse. By the same.

For they says there's a Providence sits up aloft See the course throng'd with gazers, the To keep watch for the life of Poor Jack.

sports are begun, The confusion but hear !—I'll bet you, sir, Why, I heard the good chaplain palaver one day Done!

About souls, heaven, mercy, and such, Ten thousand strange murmurs resound far and And, my timbers! what lingo he'd coil and near,

belay! Lords, hawkers, and jockeys assail the tir'd ear: Why, 'twas just all as one as High Dutch. While, with neck like a rainbow, erecting his But he said how a sparrow can't founder, d'ye

Without orders that come down below, (see, crest, Pamper’d, prancing, and pleas'd, his head And many fine things that prov'd clearly to me touching his breast,

That Providence takes us in tow. Scarcely snuffing the air, he's so proud and elate, For, says he, do you mind me, let storms e'er The high-mettled racer first starts for the plate.

Take the top-sails of sailors aback, so oft There's a sweet little cherub that sits up

aloft Now Reynard's turn'd out, and o'er hedge

To keep watch for the life of Poor Jack. and ditch rush Hounds, horses, and huntsmen, all hard at his I said to our Poll, for you see she would cry, brush;

When at last we weigh'd anchor for sea, They run him at length, and they have him at What argufies sniv'ling, and piping your eye? bay,

[dious way:

Why, what a damu'd fool you must be ! And by scent, and by view, cheat a long te- Can't you see the world's wide, and there's While, alike born for sports of the field and the room for us all, course,

Both for seamen and lubbers ashore? Always sure to come through, a staunch and And if to old Davy I should go, friend Poll, fleet horse ;

Why, you never will hear of me more.

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so soft

What then? all's a hazard : come don't be so When Theseus on the naked shore

Perhaps I may laughing come back ; [soft, Fair Ariadne left, For, d'ye see, there's a cherub that sits up aloft D’ye think she did her fate deplore, To keep watch for the life of Poor Jack. Or her fine locks or bosoin tore,

Like one of hope bereft?
D'ye mind me, a sailor should be


Not she, indeed. Her fleeting love
All as one as a piece of the ship,
And with her brave the world without offering and as gay Bacchus' tigers move,

From mortal turns divine;
to flinch,

His car ascends amidst a grove
From the moment the anchor's a-trip.
As for me, in all weathers, all times, sides and who lead the jolly pair along,

Of vines, surrounded by a throng, ends,

Almost hall-gone with wine.
Nought’s a trouble from duty that springs ;
heart is

Poll's, and


's my Ma'am Helen lov'd the Phrygian boy, friend's,

He thought her all his own :
And as for my life, 'tis the king's.

But hottest love will soonest cloy, Even when my time comes, ne'er believe me He ne'er had brought her safe to Troy

But for the wife of Thone. As for grief to be taken aback :

She, merry gossip, mix'd a cup
That same little cherub that sits


Of tipple right divine,
Will look out a good birth for Poor Jack. To keep love's flagging spirits up,

And Helen drank it every sup:
This liquor is 'mongst learned elves

Nepenthe call'd; but, 'twixt ourselves $ 140. By the sume.

"Twas nothing more than wine. Of all sensations pity brings,

Of Lethe, and jis Auw'ry brink, To proudly swell the ample heart,

Let iusty poets prate, From which the willing sorrow springs,

Where thirsty souls are said to drink, In others' grief that bears a part:

That never they again may think Of all sad sympathy's delights,

Upon their former state : The manly dignity of grief,

What is there in this soulless lot,

1 A joy in mourning that excites,

pray you, so divine? And gives the anxious mind relief : Grief finds the palace and the cot, Of these would you the feeling know,

Which, for a time, were well forgot ; Most gen'rous, noble, greatly brave,

Come here then, in our Lethe share, That ever taught a heart to glow,

The true oblivion of your care 'Tis the tear that bedews a soldier's grave. Is only found in wine. For hard and painful is his lot ;

Let dangers come, he braves them all; Valiant, perhaps, to be forgot,

§ 142. By the sume. Or undistinguish'd doom'd to fall.

Yanko he tell, and he tell no lie, Yet wrapt in conscious worth secure,

We near one pretty brook, The world, that now forgets his toil,

Him flowing hair, him lovely eye, He views from a retreat obscure,

Sweetly on Orra look: And quits it with a willing smile.

Him see big world, fine warrior men, Then, irav'ller, one kind drop bestow,

Grand cruel king love blood ; "Twere graceful pity, nobly brave;

Great king! but Yanko


what den Nought ever taught the heart to glow

If he no honest good ? Like the tear that bedews a soldier's grave.

Virtue in foe be virtue still,

Fine stone be found in mine:

The sun one dale, as well one hill, § 141. By the same.

Make warm where'er him shine.

You broder him, him broder you,
What though from Venus Cupid sprung, So all the world should call;
No attribute divine

For nature say, and she say true, (Whate'er the bawling hards have sung)

That men be broder all.
Hali he, his bow till Bacchus strung,
Audi dipe his darıs in wine;

If cruel man, like tiger grim,
Till old Silenus plung'd the boy

Come bold in thirst of blood, In nectar from the vine :

Poor man: be noble, pity him, Then love, that was before a toy,

That he no honest good: Became the source of mortal joy ;

Virtue in foe be virtue still, The urchin shook his dewy wings,

Fine stone be found in mine : And careless levell’d clowns and kings; The sun one dale, as well one hill, Such power has mighty wine!

Make warm where'er him shine.


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