AN EVENING CONTEMPLATION In a College. The curfew tolls the hour of closing gates, Now shine the spires beneath the paly moon, Save that in yonder cobweb-mantled room, Within those walls, where, thro' the glimm'ring shade, Each in his narrow bed 'till morning laid, The tinkling bell, proclaiming early prayers, Ne'er rouse these sleepers from their drowsy bed. No chattering females crowd their social fire, Unfelt the plagues of matrimonial life. Oft have they bask'd along the sunny walls, Oft have the benches bow'd beneath their weight: How jocund are their looks when dinner calls! How smoke the cutlets on their crowded plate ! O let not temperance, too disdainful, hear How long their feasts, how long their dinners last! Nor let the fair, with a contemptuous sneer, On these unmarried men reflections cast! The splendid fortune and the beauteous face, Forgive, ye fair, th' involuntary fault, Say, is the sword well suited to the band, Perhaps in these time-tottering walls reside Some who were once the darlings of the fair; Some who of old could tastes and fashions guide, Controul the manager, and awe the player: But science now has fill'd their vacant mind With Rome's rich spoils and truth's exalted views; Fir'd them with transports of another kind, And bade them slight all females-but the muse. Full many a lark high-towering to the sky, With twinkling lustre glimmers through the night. Some future Herring, who, with dauntless breast, From prince and people to command applause, And steer with steady course the helm of state, Fate yet forbids; nor circumscribes alone Their growing virtues, but their crimes confines; Forbids in freedom's veil t' insult the throne, Beneath her mask to hide the worst designs: To fill the madding crowd's perverted mind Far from the giddy town's tumultuous strife, They keep the noiseless tenour of their way. Even now their books from cobwebs to protect, Oft are the author's names, though richly bound, To tell the admiring guest what books are there. For who, to thoughtless ignorance a prey, Reports attract the lawyer's parting eyes, Novels Lord Fopling and Sir Plume require ; For thee who, mindful of thy lov'd compeers, Haply some friend may shake his hoary head, And say " each morn, unchill'd by frosts, he ran There in the arms of that lethargic chair, Now by the fire, engag'd in serious talk, Or mirthful converse, would he loit'ring stand; Then in the garden chose a sunny walk, Or launch'd the polish'd bowl with steady hand. One morn we miss'd him at the hour of prayer, Nor yet at bowls, nor chapel was he seen; The next we heard that in a neighbouring shire, Now, by his patron's bounteous care remov'd, THE LETTER. "In rural innocence secure I live. Alike to fortune and to fame unknown; "Next to the blessings of religious truth "Seek not to draw me from this kind retreat, In loftier spheres unfit, untaught to move; Content with calm, domestic life, where meet The smiles of friendship and the sweets of love." |