Belinda s maids are soon preferred, To teach him now and then a word, As Poll can master it; But 'tis her own important charge, To qualify him more at large, And make him quite a wit. Sweet Poll! his doating mistress cries, And calls aloud for sack. At first he aims at what he hears; A querulous old woman's voice Belinda and her bird! 'tis rare To meet with such a well-matched pair, When children first begin to spell, We think them tedious creatures; But difficulties soon abate, When birds are to be taught to prate, And women are the teachers. V. THE THRACIAN. THRACIAN parents, at his birth, Place him breathless on his bier. Greece and Rome, with equal scorn, 'O the savages!' exclaim, 'Whether they rejoice or mourn, Well entitled to the name!' But the cause of this concern, VI. RECIPROCAL KINDNESS. THE PRIMARY LAW OF NATURE. ANDROCLES from his injured lord, in dread He spied, at length, a cavern's cool retreat, blood, And firm and free from pain the lion stood, He goes, and doomed to perish, on the sands Mute with astonishment th' assembly gaze: VII. A MANUAL. More ancient than the Art of Printing, and not to be found in any Catalogue. THERE is a book, which we may call (Its excellence is such) Alone a library, though small; The ladies thumb it much. Words none, things numerous it contains: Ofttimes its leaves of scarlet hue A golden edging boast; And opened, it displays to view Twelve pages at the most. Nor name, nor title, stamped behind, But all within 'tis richly lined, 'The whitest hands that secret hoard Oft visit: and the fair Preserve it in their bosoms stored, As with a miser's care. Thence implements of every size, And formed for various use, (They need but to consult their eyes) They readily produce. The largest and the longest kind Or nearly such from age. The full-charged leaf, which next ensues, The third, the fourth, the fifth supply But still with regular decrease From size to size they fall, In every leaf grow less and less; The last are least of all. O! what a fund of genius, pent It leaves no reader at a loss Or posed, whoever reads: No commentator's tedious gloss, Nor even index needs. Search Bodley's many thousands o'er, Of this was ever seen, Or, that contents could justly boast, IN TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE. NONE ever shared the social feast, Then, soon as the swell of the buds Bespeaks the renewal of spring, Fly hence, if thou wilt, to the woods, Or where it shall please thee to sing: And shouldst thou, compelled by a frost, Come again to my window or door, Doubt not an affectionate host, Only pay as thou pay'dst me before. Thus music must needs be confest, To flow from a fountain above; Else how should it work in the breast Unchangeable friendship and love! And who on the globe can be found, Save your generation and ours, That can be delighted by sound, Or boasts any musical powers? XII. STRADA'S NIGHTINGALE. THE Shepherd touched his reed; sweet Philomel Essayed, and oft assayed to catch the strain, And treasuring, as on her ear they fell, The numbers, echoed note for note again. The peevish youth, who ne'er had found before She dared the task, and rising, as he rose, With all the force, that passion gives, inspired, Returned the sounds awhile, but in the close, Exhausted fell, and at his feet expired. Thus strength, not skill, prevailed. O fatal strife. By thee, poor songstress, playfully begun; And, O sad victory, which cost thy life, And he may wish that he had never won! XIII. ODE ON THE DEATH OF A LADY, Who lived one hundred years, and died on her birthday, 1728. ANCIENT dame how wide and vast, To a race like ours appears, All thy multitude of years! We, the herd of human kind, Frailer and of feebler powers; Soon exhaust the sum of ours. Death's delicious banquet-we Perish even from the womb, Swifter than a shadow flee, Nourished but to feed the tomb. Seeds of merciless disease Lurk in all that we enjoy; Some, that waste us by degrees, Some, that suddenly destroy. And if life o'erleap the bourn Common to the sons of men; What remains, but that we mourn, Dream, and doat, and drivel then? Fast as moons can wax and wane, Sorrow comes; and while we groan, Pant with anguish and complain, Halfour years are fled and gone. If a few, (to few 'tis given) Lingering on this earthly stage, Creep, and halt with steps uneven, To the period of an age. Wherefore live they but to see Oft was seen, in ages past, All that we with wonder view; Often shall be to the last; Earth produces nothing new. Thee we gratulate; content, XIV. THE CAUSE WON. Two neighbours furiously dispute: A field-the subject of the suit. Trivial the spot, yet such the rage With which the combatants engage, "Twere hard to tell, who covets most The prize-at whatsoever cost. The pleadings swell. Words still suffice; No single word but has its price: No term but yields some fair pretence For novel and increased expense. Defendant thus becomes a name, Which he that bore it, may disclaim; Since both. in one description blended, Are plaintiffs-when the suit is ended. XV. THE SILKWORM. THE beams of April, ere it goes, A worm scarce visible, disclose; All winter long content to dwell The tenant of his native shell. The same prolific season gives The sustenance by which he lives, That hour arrived, his work begins, He spins and weaves, and weaves and spins, Careless around him and around, When next we see him wings he wears, XVI. THE INNOCENT THIEF. Nor a flower can be found in the fields, Or the spot that we till for our pleasure, With a diligence truly exact; Her lucrative task she pursues, And pilfers with so much address, That none of their odour they lose, Nor charm by their beauty the less. Not thus inoffensively preys The canker-worm, indwelling foe! His voracity not thus allays The sparrow, the finch, or the crow. The worm, more expensively fed, The pride of the garden devours; And birds pick the seed from the bed, Still less to be spared than the flowers. But she with such delicate skill Her pillage so fits for her use, That the chymist in vain with his still Would labour the like to produce. Then grudge not her temperate meals, XVII. DENNER'S OLD WOMAN In this mimic form of a matron in years, With locks like the ribbon, with which they are bound; While glossy and smooth, and as soft as the skin Nor a pimple, or freckle, concealed from the view. Many fond of new sights, or who cherish a taste For the labours of art, to the spectacle haste: The youths all agree, that could old age inspire The passion of love, hers would kindle the fire, And the matrons, with pleasure, confess that they see Ridiculous nothing or hideous in thee. The nymphs for themselves scarcely hope a decline, O wonderful woman! as placid as thine. Strange magic of art! which the youth can engage To peruse, half-enamoured, the features of age; And force from the virgin a sigh of despair, That she when as old, shall be equally fair! How great is the glory, that Denner has gained, Since Apelles not more for his Venus obtained! XVIII. THE TEARS OF A PAINTER. APELLES, hearing that his boy Thus far is well. But view again, Now, painter, cease! thy task is done, XIX. THE MAZE. FROM right to left, and to and fro Caught in a labyrinth, you go, And turn, and turn, and turn again, To solve the mystery, but in vain ; Stand still and breathe, and take from me A clew that soon shall set you free! Not Ariadne, if you meet her, Herself could serve you with a better. You enter'd easily-find whereAnd make, with ease, your exit there! XX. NO SORROW PECULIAR TO THE SUFFERER. THE lover, in melodious verses "Was ever such a wretch as I!" XXI. THE SNAIL. To grass, or leaf, or fruit, or wall, Together. Within that house secure ne hides, Of weather. |