Or does with gossips at a feast regale,
And heighten her conceits with sack and ale;
Or else at wakes with Joan and Hodge rejoice,
Where D'Ursey's lyricks swell in ev'ry voice;
Yet suffer me, thou bard of wondrous meed,
Amid thy bays to weave this rural weed.
Now the sun drove adown the western road,
And oxen, laid at rest, forget the goad;
The clown, fatigu'd, trudg'd homeward with his spade,
Across the meadows stretch'd the lengthen'd shade;
When Sparabella, pensive and forlorn,
Alike with yearning love and labour worn,
Lean'd on her rake, and straight with doleful guise
Did this sad plaint in mournful notes devise:
Come night as dark as pitch, surround my head,
From Sparabella Bumkinet is filed;
The ribband that his val'rous cudgel won,
Last Sunday happier Clumsilis put on :
Sure, if he had eyes (but Love, they say, has none)
I whilom by that ribband had been known.
Ah! well-a-day! I'm shent with baneful smart,
For with the ribband he bestow'd his heart.
My plaint, ye Lasses! with this burden aid,
'Tis hard so true a damsel dies a maid.
also famous for his song on the Newmarket Horse-race, and several others that are sung by the British swains. Ver 17.1 Meed, an old word for fame or renown. Ver 18.---Hanc sine tempora circum
Inter victrices ederam tibi serpere lauros.
Ver 25. Incumbens tereti Damon sic cœpit Olivæ. Ver. 331 Shent, an old word signifying hurt, or harmed.
Shall heavy Clumsilis with me compare?
View this, ye Lovers! and like me despair.
Her blubber'd lip by smutty pipes is worn,
And in her breath tobacco whiffs are borne,
The cleanly cheese-press she could never turn,
Her awkward fist did ne'er employ the churn;
If e'er she brew'd, the drink would strait go sour,
Before it ever felt the thunder's pow'r :
No huswifery the dowdy creature knew;
To sum up all, her tongue confess'd the shrew.
My plaint, ye Lasses! with this burden aid,
'Tis hard so true a damsel dies a maid.
I've often seen my visage in yon lake,
Nor are my features of the homeliest make.
Tho' Clumsilis may boast a whiter dye,
Yet the black sloe turns in my rolling eye;
And fairest blossoms drop with ev'ry blast,
But the brown beauty will like hollies last.
Her wan complexion's like the wither'd leek,
While Katharine pears adorn my ruddy cheek.
Yet she, alas! the witless lout hath won,
And by her gain poor Sparabell's undone !
Let hares and hounds in coupling straps unite,
The clucking hen make friendship with the kite;
Ver. 37. Mopso Nisa datur, quid non speremus
Ver. 49.] Nec sum adeo informis, nuper me in littore vidi.
Ver. 53. Alba ligustra cadunt, vaccinia nigra le
Let the fox simply wear the nuptial noose,
And join in wedlock with the waddling goose.
For Love hath brought a stranger thing to pass,
The fairest shepherd weds the foulest lass.
My plaint, ye Lasses! with this burden aid,
'Tis hard so true a damsel dies a maid.
Sooner shall cats disport in waters clear,
And speckled mack'rels graze the meadows fair;
Sooner shall screechowls bask in sunny day,
And the slow ass on trees, like squirrels play;.
Sooner shall snails on insect pinions rove,
Than I forget my shepherd's wonted love.
My plaint, ye Lasses! with this burden aid,
'Tis hard so true a damsel dies a maid.
Ah! didst thou know what proffers I withstood,
When late I met the Squire in yonder wood!
To me he sped, regardless of his game,
While all my cheek was glowing red with shame;
My lip he kiss'd, and prais'd my healthful look,
Then from his purse of silk a guinea took;
Into my hand he forc'd the tempting gold,
While I with modest struggling broke his hold.
He swore that Dick, in liv'ry strip'd with lace,
Should wed me soon to keep me from disgrace;
Ver. 59. Jungentur jam gryphes equis; ævoque sequenti
Cum canibus timidi venient ad pocula damæ.
Ver. 67.] Ante leves ergo pascentur in æthere cervi Et freta destituent nudos in littore pisces---Quam nostro illius labatur pectore vultus.
But I nor footman priz'd, nor golden fee,
For what is lace or gold compar❜d to thee? My plaint, ye Lasses! with this burden aid, 'Tis hard so true a damsel dies a maid.
Now plain I ken whence Love his rise begun;
Sure he was born some bloody butcher's son,
Bred up in shambles, where our younglings slain,
Erst taught him mischief, and to sport with pain.
The father only silly sheep annoys,
The son the sillier shepherdess destroys.
Does son or father greater mischief do?
The sire is cruel, so the son is too.
My plaint, ye Lasses! with this burden aid, 'Tis hard so true a damsel dies a maid.
Farewell, ye Woods! ye Meads! ye Streams! that A sudden death shall rid me of my wo.
This penknife keen my windpipe shall divide;
What, shall I fall as squeaking pigs have dy'd?
No---To some tree this carcass I'll suspend;
But worrying curs find such untimely end!
I'll speed me to the pond, where the high stool
On the long plank hangs o'er the muddy pool,
Ver. 89. To ken, Sc're Chaucero, to ken, and kende notus A. S. cunnan. Goth, kunnan. Germanis, kennen. Danis, kiende. Islandis, kunna. Belgis, kennen. This word is of general use, but not very common, though not unknown to the vulgar. Ken, for prospicere, is well known, and used to discover by the eye. Ray, F.R. S. Volume I.
That stool, the dread of ev'ry scolding quean;
Yet sure a lover should not die so mean?
There plac'd aloft, I'll rave and rail by fits,
Tho' all the parish say I've lost my wits;
And thence, if courage holds, myself I'll throw,
And quench my passion in the lake below.
Ye Lasses! cease your burden, cease to moan,
And, by my case forewarn'd, go mind your own.
The sun was set; the night came on apace,
And falling dews bewet around the place.
The bat takes airy rounds on leathern wings,
And the hoarse owl his woeful dirges sings;
The prudent maiden deems it now too late,
And till to-morrow comes defers her fate.
Nunc scio quid sit amor, &c.
Crudelis mater magis an puer improbus ille? Improbus ille puer, crudelis tu quoque mater. VIRG. Ver. 99.1---vivite Sylvæ,
Præceps aerii specula de montis in undas
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