The lady Janes and Joans repair,

And from the gallery stand peeping:

100

Such as in silence of the night

Come (sweep) along some winding entry, (Styacko has often seen the sight,)

Or at the chapel-door stand sentry.

105

In peaked hoods and mantles tarnished,

Sour visages, enough to scare ye,
High dames of honor once, that garnished

The drawing-room of fierce Queen Mary.

110

The peeress comes. The audience stare,

And doff their hats with due submission: She curtsies, as she takes her chair,

To all the people of condition.

The bard, with many an artful fib,

Had an imagination fenced him, Disproved the arguments of Squib,o

And all that Groomo could urge against him.

115

But soon his rhetoric forsook him,

When he the solemn hall had seen; A sudden fit of ague shook him,

He stood as mute as poor Macleane.°

120

Yet something he was heard to mutter,

“ How in the park beneath an old tree,

(Without design to hurt the butter,

Or any malice to the poultry,)

125

“ He once or twice had penned a sonnet;

Yet hoped, that he might save his bacon: Numbers would give their oaths upon it,

He ne'er was for a conjurer taken."

130

The ghostly prudes" with hagged face

Already had condemned the sinner. My lady rose, and with a grace

She smiled, and bid him come to dinner.

“Jesu-Maria ! Madam Bridget,

Why, what can the Viscountess mean? (Cried the square-hoods in woful fidget,)

“ The times are altered quite and clean !

135

“ Decorum's turned to mere civility;

Her air and all her manners show it. Commend me to her affability!

Speak to a commoner and a poet!”

140

[Here five hundred stanzas are lost.]

And so God save our noble king,

And guard us from long-winded lubbers, That to eternity would sing,

And keep my lady from her rubbers.

ODE ON THE PLEASURE ARISING FROM

VICISSITUDE°

Now the golden morn aloft

Waves her dew-bespangled wing,
With vermeil cheek and whisper soft

She wooes the tardy spring:
Till April starts, and calls around
The sleeping fragrance from the ground;
And lightly o'er the living scene
Scatters his freshest, tenderest green.

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10

New-born flocks, in rustic dance,

Frisking ply their feeble feet;
Forgetful of their wintry trance,

The birds his presence greet:
But chief, the sky-lark warbles high
His trembling thrilling ecstasy;
And, lessening from the dazzled sight,
Melts into air and liquid light.

15

Rise, my soul! on wings of fire,

Rise the rapturous choir among;
Hark! 'tis nature strikes the lyre,

And leads the general song:

20

Yesterday the sullen year

Saw the snowy whirlwind fly;

25

Mute was the music of the air,

The herd stood drooping by:
Their raptures now that wildly flow,
No yesterday nor morrow know;
'Tis man alone that joy descries
With forward and reverted eyes.

39

Smiles on past misfortune's brow

Soft reflection's hand can trace;
And o’er the cheek of sorrow throw

A melancholy grace;
While hope prolongs our happier hour,
Or deepest shades, that dimly lower
And blacken round our weary way,
Gilds with a gleam of distant day.

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40

Still, where rosy pleasure leads,

See a kindred grief pursue;
Behind the steps that misery treads,

Approaching comfort view:
The hues of bliss more brightly glow,
Chastised by sabler tints of woe;
And blended form, with artful strife,
The strength and harmony of life.

45

See the wretch, that long has tost

On the thorny bed of pain, At length repair his vigor lost,

And breathe and walk again:

50

The meanest floweret of the vale,
The simplest note that swells the gale,
The common sun, the air, the skies,
To him are opening paradise.

Humble quiet builds her cell,

Near the source whence pleasure flows;
She eyes the clear crystalline well,

And tastes it as it goes.

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THE ALLIANCE OF EDUCATION AND

GOVERNMENT°

A FRAGMENT

Essay I

Πόταγ, ώ'γαθέ . ταν γάρ αοιδάν
Ούτι πα εις Αΐδαν γε τον εκλελάθοντα φυλαξεις.

THEOCRITUS, Id. I. 63.

As sickly plants betray a niggard earth, Whose barren bosom starves her generous birth, Nor genial warmth, nor genial juice retains, Their roots to feed, and fill their verdant veins: And as in climes, where winter holds his reign, The soil, though fertile, will not teem in vain, Forbids her gems to swell, her shades to rise, Nor trusts her blossoms to the churlish skies: So draw mankind in vain the vital airs, Unformed, unfriended, by those kindly cares,

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