HITHER by luckless error led,
The crude confiftence oft I tread;
Here when my shoes are out of case,
Unweeting gild the tarnish'd lace;
Here by the facred bramble ting'd,
My petticoat is doubly fring'd.

BE witness for me, nymph divine,
I never robb'd thee with design:
Nor will the zealous Hannah * pout
To wash thy injur'd off'rings out.

Bur ftop, ambitious mufe, in time,
Nor dwell on fubjects too fublime.
In vain on lofty heels I tread,
Afpiring to exalt my head;

With hoop expanded wide and light
In vain I 'tempt too high a flight.

Me Phœbus + in a midnight-dream‡
Accofting, faid, Go shake your cream.
Be humbly minded, know your post;
Sweeten your tea, and watch your toast.
Thee beft befits a lowly ftyle:
Teach Dennis how to ftir the guile††:
With Peggy Dixon ‡‡ thoughtful fit,.
Contriving for the pot and fpit.

Take down thy proudly-fwelling fails,
And rub thy teeth and pair thy nails::
And nicely carving fhew thy wit;

But ne'er presume to eat a bit :
Turn ev'ry way thy watchful eye;-
And ev'ry guest be sure to ply :

310

315

320

325

330

335

Let never at your board be known

An empty plate except your own.

340

† Cynthius aurem vellit. Hor.

*My Lady's woman.

Cum fomnia vera. Idem.

In the bottle to make butter.

ft Guile, the quantity of ale or beer brewed at one time,

Mrs Dixon the housekeeper.

Be these thy arts * ; nor higher aim
Than what befits a rural dame.

BUT Cloacina, goddess bright,
Sleek claims her as his right:
And Smedley †, flow'r of all divines,
Shall fing the Dean in Smedley's lines.

Two

CASSINUS and PETER.

A tragical ELEGY.

Written in the year 1731.

WO college fophs of Cambridge growth,
Both special wits, and lovers both,
Conferring as they us'd to meet

On love, and books, in rapture fweet;
(Mufe, find me names to fit my metre,
Caffinus this, and t`other Peter).
Friend Peter to Caffinus goes,
To chat a while and warm his nose.
But fuch a fight was never feen,
The lad lay iwallow'd up in fpleen.
He feem'd as juft crept out of bed;
One greasy flocking round his head,
The other he fat down to darn
With threads of diff'rent-colour'd
His breeches torn expofing wide
A ragged fhirt and tawny hide.

yarn;

Scorch'd were his fhins, his legs were bare,
But well embrown'd with dirt and hair.
A rug was o'er his shoulders thrown;
A rug; for nightgown he had none.

He tibi erunt artes. Virg.

345

10

15

+ A very stupid, infolent, factious, deformed, conceited parfon, a vile pretender to poetry, preferred by the Duke of Grafton for his wit,

His jordan flood in manner fitting
Between his legs to spue or spit in.
His ancient pipe in fable dy'd,
And half unsmok'd lay by his fide.

HIM thus accoutred Peter found,

With eyes in smoke and weeping drown'd:
The leavings of his last night's pot

25

On embers plac'd to drink it hot.

Why, Caffy, thou wilt doze thy pate;
What makes thee lie a bed fo late?"
The finch, the linnet, and the thrush,
Their mattins chant in ev'ry bush :
And I have heard thee oft falute
Aurora with thy early flute.

30

Heav'n fend thou haft not got the hyps!
How! not a word come from thy lips?
THEN gave him fome familiar thumps;

35

A college-joke to cure the dumps.

THE fwain at laft, with grief oppreft,

Cry'd," Cælia!" thrice, and figh'd the rest.

DEAR Caffy, tho' to afk I dread,

40

Yet afk I must.

Is Cælia dead?

How happy I,

were that the worst ?

But I was fated to be curft.

COME, tell us, has the plaid the whore?

45

OH Peter, would it were no more!

WHY, plague confound her fandy locks:

Say, has the fmall or greater pox

Sunk down her nofe, or feam'd her face?

O Peter! beauty's but a varnish,

Which time and accidents will tarnish :

But Cælia has contriv'd to blast

Those beauties that might ever last.
Nor can imagination guess,
Nor eloquence divine express,
How that ungrateful charming maid
My pureft paffion has betray'd.
Conceive the most invenom'd dart

55

To pierce an injur'd lover's heart.

60

WHY, hang her; tho' fhe feem'd fo coy,

I know the loves the barber's boy.

FRIEND Peter, this I could excufe;
For ev'ry nymph has leave to chufe;
Nor have I reason to complain,
She loves a more deferving fwain.
But Oh! how ill haft thou divin'd
A crime, that shocks all human kind;

65

A deed unknown to female race,

At which the fun fhould hide his face ;

70

Advice in vain you would apply

Then leave me to despair and die.

Ye kind Arcadians, on my urn
Thefe elegies and fonnets burn;
And on the marble grave these rhymes,
A monument to after times:

"Here Caffy lies, by Cælia flain,

"And dying never told his pain.”

VAIN empty world, farewel. But hark,
The loud Cerberian triple bark.
And there-behold Alecto ftand,
A whip of fcorpions in her hand.
Lo, Charon from his leaky wherry
Beck'ning to waft me o'er the ferry.
I come, I come,- Medufa! fee,
Her ferpents hifs direct at me.
Begone; unhand me, hellish fry:
Avant +-ye cannot say 'tis I.
† See Macbeth.

75

85

DEAR Caffy, thou must purge and bleed;

I fear thou wilt be mad indeed.

But now by friendship's facred laws
I here conjure thee, tell the cause;

And Cælia's horrid fact relate :

go

Thy friend would gladly share thy fate.
To force it out my heart must rend;
Yet when conjur'd by fuch a friend-
Think, Peter, how my foul is rackt!
These eyes,
these eyes beheld the fact.
Now bend thine ear, fince out it muft;
But when thou feeft me laid in duft,
The fecret thou shalt ne'er impart,
Not to the nymph that keeps thy heart;
(How would her virgin foul bemoan
A crime to all her fex unknown !);
Nor whisper to the tattling reeds
The blackest of all female deeds:
Nor blab it on the lonely rocks,
Where Echo fits, and lift'ning mocks ;
Nor let the zephyrs' treach'rous gale
Thro' Cambridge waft the direful tale;
Nor to the chatt'ring feather'd race
Difcover Cælia's foul difgrace.
But if you fail, my spectre dread
Attending nightly round your bed:
And yet I dare confide in you;
So take my fecret, and adieu.

NOR wonder how I loft my wits :

Oh! Cælia, Calia, Cælia fh.

* See the lady's dreffing-room, above, p. 356. V. 118.

The End of the SIXTH VOLUME.