Till yonder heaven and earth shall mingle, Or (which is likelier to befal) Till death exterminate us all. I marry without more ado. My dear Dick Redcap, what say you? Of an immediate conjugation. All paired, and each pair built a nest. The wind, of late breathed gently forth, Grew quarrelsome, and pecked each other, INSTRUCTION. Misses! the tale that I relate This lesson seems to carryChoose not alone a proper mate, But proper time to marry. THE DOG AND THE WATER-LILY. NO FABLE. The noon was shady, and soft airs My spaniel, prettiest of his race, (Two nymphs adorned with every grace That spaniel found for me) Now wantoned, lost in flags and reeds, With scarce a slower flight. It was the time when Ouse displayed His lilies newly blown; Their beauties I intent surveyed, With cane extended far I sought To steer it close to land; But still the prize, though nearly caught, Escaped my eager hand. Beau marked my unsuccessful pains With fixt considerate face, But with a chirrup clear and strong, I thence withdrew, and followed long My ramble finished, I returned, The floating wreath again discerned, I saw him with that lily eropped My quick approach, and soon he dropped Charmed with the sight, the world, I cried, My dog shall mortify the pride But chief myself I will enjoin, Awake at duty's call, To shew a love as prompt as thine To Him who gives me all. THE POET, THE OYSTER, AND SENSITIVE PLANT. An Oyster, cast upon the shore, Was heard, though never heard before, Ah, hapless wretch! condemned to dwell Ordained to move when others please, I envy that unfeeling shrub, The plant he meant grew not far off, When, cry the botanists, and stare, To make them grow just where she chooses. Or such another dolt as you: For many a grave and learned clerk, And many a gay unlettered spark, And when I bend, retire, and shrink, Deserves not, if so soon offended, You, in your grotto-work enclosed, And as for you, my Lady Squeamish, His censure reached them as he dealt it, ON A GOLDFINCH STARVED TO DEATH IN HIS CAGE. Time was when I was free as air, But gaudy plumage, sprightly strain, And of a transient date; For caught and caged, and starved to death, In dying sighs my little breath Soon passed the wiry grate. Thanks, gentle swain, for all my woes, More cruelty could none express; TRANSLATIONS FROM V. BOURNE. THE GLOW-WORM. Beneath the hedge, or near the stream, A worm is known to stray; Disputes have been, and still prevail, But this is sure-the hand of might, Perhaps indulgent nature meant, Be careful where he trod: Nor crush a worm, whose useful light Might serve, however small, To shew a stumbling stone by night, And save him from a fall. Whate'er she meant, this truth divine Is legible and plain, 'Tis power almighty bids him shine, Nor bids him shine in vain. Ye proud and wealthy, let this theme Teach humbler thoughts to you, Since such a reptile has its gem, And boasts its splendour too. THE JACKDAW. There is a bird who by his coat, Might be supposed a crow; Above the steeple shines a plate, From what point blows the weather. Look up your brains begin to swim; "Tis in the clouds-that pleases him, He chooses it the rather. Fond of the speculative height, And thence securely sees You think, no doubt, he sits and muses If he should chance to fall. He sees that this great roundabout The world, with all its motley rout, And says-what says he?-Caw. Thrice happy bird! I too have seen Much of the vanities of men; And, sick of having seen 'em, Would cheerfully these limbs resign For such a pair of wings as thine, And such a head between 'em. THE CRICKET. Little inmate, full of mirth, Thus thy praise shall be exprest, Though in voice and shape they be Neither night, nor dawn of day, Wretched man, whose years are spent In repining discontent, Lives not, aged though he be, THE PARROT. In painted plumes superbly drest, Poll gains at length the British shore, 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, Sweet Poll! the mimic bird replies; And calls aloud for sack. She next instructs him in the kiss; 'Tis now a little one, like Miss, And now a hearty smack. At first he aims at what he hears; But soon articulates aloud, A querulous old woman's voice He scolds and gives the lie. Belinda and her bird! 'tis rare To meet with such a well-matched pair, Each character in every part When children first begin to spell, We think them tedious creatures; But difficulties soon abate, When birds are to be taught to prate, THE DIVERTING HISTORY OF JOHN GILPIN, SHEWING HOW HE WENT FARTHER THAN HE INTENDED, AND CAME SAFE HOME AGAIN. John Gilpin was a citizen Of credit and renown, A train-band captain eke was he Of famous London town. John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear, Though wedded we have been These twice ten tedious years, yet we No holiday have seen. To-morrow is our wedding-day, And we will then repair My sister, and my sister's child, Then over all, that he might be He soon replied, I do admire Of womankind but one, And you are she, my dearest dear, Therefore it shall be done. I am a linen-draper bold, As all the world doth know, And my good friend the calender Will lend his horse to go. Quoth Mrs. Gilpin, That's well said; And, for that wine is dear, Which is both bright and clear. The morning came, the chaise was brought, To drive up to the door, lest all Should say that she was proud. So three doors off the chaise was stayed, Six precious souls, and all agog To dash through thick and thin. Smack went the whip, round went the wheels, The stones did rattle underneath, John Gilpin at his horse's side Seized fast the flowing mane, And up he got, in haste to ride, But soon came down again; For saddle-tree scarce reached had he, When, turning round his head, he saw So down he came; for loss of time, 'Twas long before the customers Were suited to their mind, Good lack! quoth he-yet bring it me, Now mistress Gilpin (careful soul!) Equipped from top to toe, His long red cloak, well brushed and neat, Now see him mounted once again But finding soon a smoother road So, fair and softly, John he cried, In spite of curb and rein. So stooping down, as needs he must He grasped the mane with both his hands, His horse, who never in that sort Away went Gilpin, neck or nought; The wind did blow, the cloak did fly Then might all people well discern As hath been said or sung. The dogs did bark, the children screamed, And every soul cried out, Well done! Away went Gilpin-who but he? His fame soon spread around, And still, as fast as he drew near, Their gates wide open threw. And now, as he went bowing down Down ran the wine into the road, Most piteous to be seen, Which made his horse's flanks to smoke, As they had basted been. But still he seemed to carry weight, With leathern girdle braced; Thus all through merry Islington Of Edmonton so gay: And there he threw the wash about On both sides of the way, Just like unto a trundling mop, Or a wild goose at play. At Edmonton his loving wife From the balcony spied Her tender husband, wondering much To see how he did ride. Stop, stop, John Gilpin!-Here's the house They all at once did cry; The dinner waits, and we are tired: But yet his horse was not a whit Inclined to tarry there; For why?-his owner had a house So like an arrow swift he flew, Shot by an archer strong; Away went Gilpin out of breath, The calender, amazed to see His neighbour in such trim, Laid down his pipe, flew to the gate, And thus accosted him. What news? what news? your tidings tell; Tell me you must and shall Say why bare-headed you are come, Now Gilpin had a pleasant wit, And thus unto the calender In merry guise he spoke: I came because your horse would come; My hat and wig will soon be here, The calender, right glad to find Returned him not a single word, But to the house went in; Whence straight he came with hat and wig; A wig that flowed behind, A hat not much the worse for wear, He held them up, and in his turn Thus showed his ready wit, My head is twice as big as yours, They therefore needs must fit. But let me scrape the dirt away, That hangs upon your face; Said John, it is my wedding-day, So turning to his horse, he said, 'Twas for your pleasure you came here, You shall go back for mine. Ah luckless speech, and bootless boast? Had heard a lion roar, And galloped off with all his might, Away went Gilpin, and away Went Gilpin's hat and wig. He lost them sooner than at first, Into the country far away, She pulled out half a crown; And thus unto the youth she said, This shall be yours when you bring back My husband safe and well. The youth did ride, and soon did meet Whom in a trice he tried to stop, By catching at his rein; But not performing what he meant, And gladly would have done, Away went Gilpin, and away Went post-boy at his heels, The post-boy's horse right glad to miss Six gentlemen upon the road With post-boy scampering in the rear, Stop thief! stop thief!-a highwayman! |