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But, out of mind when out of view,
Some other mounts the twig anew ;
And bus'ness, on each monkey shore,
Runs the same track it ran before.

AY AND NO.

A FABLE.

IN fable all things hold discourse;
Then words, no doubt, must talk of course.
Once on a time, near Channel row *,
Two hostile adverbs, Ay and No,
Were hastening to the field of fight,
And front to front stood opposite.
Before each gen'ral join'd the van,
Ay, the more courteous knight, began :
Stop, peevish particle, beware
I'm told you are not such a bear,
But sometimes yield, when offer'd fair.
Suffer yon folks a while to tattle;
'Tis we who must decide the battle.
Whene'er we war on yonder stage
With various fate and equal rage,
The nation trembles at each blow,
That No gives Ay, and Ay gives No:
Yet, in expensive, long contention,
We gain nor office, grant, or pension:
Why then should kinsfolk quarrel thus 2
(For two of you make one of us f.)
* Channel row is a dirty street, near the parliament house,

Westminster.
f In English, two negatives make an affirmative.

To

To some wise statesman let us go,
Where each his proper use may know
He may admit two such commanders,
And make those wait who serv’d in Fl
Let's quarter on a great man's tongue,
A treas'ry lord, not master Y-g.
Obsequious at his high command,
Ay shall march forth to tax the land.
Impeachments No can best resist,
And Ay support the Civil List:
Ay, quick as Caesar wins the day;
And No, like Fabius, by delay.
Sometimes, in mutual sly disguise,
Let Ayes seem Noes, and Noes seem A
Ayes be in courts denials meant,
And Noes in bishops give consent.
Thus Ay propos'd—and for reply
No for the first time answer'd Ay.
They parted with a thousand kisses,
And fight e'er since for pay, like Swiss

Vol. XVII. G G

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SOON as Glumdalclitch miss'd her pleasing care,
She wept, she blubber'd, and she tore her hair;
No British miss sincerer grief has known,
IIer squirrel missing, or her sparrow flown.
She furl’d her sampler, and haul’d in her thread,
And stuck her needle into Grildrig's bed;
Then spread her hands, and with a bounce let fall
Her baby, like the giant in Guildhall.
In peals of thunder now she roars, and now,
She gently whimpers like a lowing cow:
Yet lovely in her sorrow still appears:
Her locks dishevell’d, and her flood of tears,
Seem like the lofty barn of some rich swain,
When from the thatch drips fast a show'r of rain.
In vain she search'd each cranny of the house,
Each gaping chink, impervious to a mouse.
“Was it for this (she cried) with daily care
“Within thy reach I set the vinegar,

“And

“And fill'd the cruet with the acid tid “While pepper-water worms thy bait “Where twin'd the silver eel around “And all the little monsters of the bro “Sure in that lake he dropt; my Grill She dragg'd the cruet, but no Grildrig “Wain is thy courage, Grilly, vain “But little creatures enterprise the mos “Trembling I’ve seen thee dare the ki “Nay, mix with children, as they play “Nor fear the marbles, as they boundi “Marbles to them, but rolling rocks t “Why did I trust thee with that gid “Who from a page can ever learn the “Vers'd in court tricks, the money-lov “To some lord's daughter sold the livi “Or rent him limb from limb in cruel “As children tear the wings of flies aw “From place to place o'er Brobdinghag “Ah never will return, or bring thee h “But who hath eyes to trace the passin “How then thy fairy footsteps can I fir “ Dost thou bewilder'd wander all alon “In the green thicket of a mossy stone “Or, tumbled from the toadstool's slip “Perhaps, all main'd, lie grov'ling or “Dost thou, embosom'd in the lovely “Or, sunk, within the peach's down, “Within the kingcup if thy limbs are “Or in the golden cowslip's velvet hea “O show me, Flora, 'midst those swo “Where sleeps my Grildig in his frag “But ah! I fear thy little fancy rov, On little females, and on little loves;

“Thy pigmy children, and thy tiny spouse,
“The baby playthings that adorn thy house,
“Doors, windows, chimnies, and the spacious rooms,
“Equal in size to cells of honeycombs:
“Hast thou for these now ventur'd from the shore,
“Thy bark a bean-shell, and a straw thine oar?
“Or in thy box now bounding on the main,
“Shall I ne'er bear thyself and house again?
“And shall I set thee on my hand no more,
“To see thee leap the lines, and traverse o'er
“My spacious palm ? of stature scarce a span,
“Mimick the actions of a real man
“No more behold thee turn my watches key,
“As seamen at a capstan anchors weigh
“How wer’t thou wont to walk with cautious tread,
“A dish of tea, like milkpail, on thy head
“How chase the mite that bore thy cheese away,
“And keep the rolling maggot at a bay!”
She said; but broken accents stopt her voice,
Soft as the speaking trumpet's mellow noise:
She sobb'd a storm, and wip'd her flowing eyes,
Which seem’d like two broad suns in misty skies.
O squander not thy grief! those tears command
To weep upon our cod in Newfoundland:
The plenteous pickle shall preserve the fish,
And Europe taste thy sorrows in a dish.

MARY

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