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O where is wisdom when by this o'erpower'd ? The state is censured, and the maid deflower'd ? And wilt thou still, 0 Squire, brew ale so

strong ? Hear then the dictates of prophetic song.

Methinks I see him in his hall appear, Where the long table floats in clammy beer, 'Midst mugs and glasses shatter'd o'er the floor, Dead drunk, his servile crew supinely snore; Triumphant, o'er the prostrate brutes he stands, The mighty bumper trembles in his hands ; Boldly he drinks, and, like his glorious sires, In copious gulps of potent ale expires.


THROUGH winter streets to steer your course

aright, How to walk clean by day, and safe by night; How jostling crowds with prudence to decline, When to assert the wall, and when resign, I sing; thou, Trivia, goddess, aid my song, Through spacious streets conduct thy bard along ; By thee transported, I securely stray Where winding alleys lead the doubtful way, The silent court and opening square explore, And long perplexing lanes untrod before. To pave thy realm, and smooth the broken ways, Earth from her womb a flinty tribute pays ; For thee the sturdy pavior thumps the ground, Whilst every stroke his labouring lungs resound;

For thee the scavenger bids kennels glide
Within their bounds, and heaps of dirt subside.
My youthful bosom burns with thirst of fame,
From the great theme to build a glorious name,
To tread in paths to ancient bards unknown,
And bind my temples with a civic crown:
But more my country's love demands my lays ;
My country's be the profit, mine the praise !

When the black youth at chosen stands rejoice, And “clean your shoes” resounds from every

voice; When late their miry sides stage-coaches show, And their stiff horses through the town move slow; When all the Mall in leafy ruin lies, And damsels first renew their oyster-cries : Then let the prudent walker shoes provide, Not of the Spanish or Morocco hide ; The wooden heel may raise the dancer's bound, And with the scallop'd top his step be crown'd: Let firm, well-hammer'd soles protect thy feet Thro' freezing snows, and rains, and soaking sleet. Should the big last extend the shoe too wide, Each stone will wrench th' unwary step aside ; The sudden turn may stretch the swelling vein, Thy cracking joint unhinge, or ankle sprain ; And, when too short the modish shoes are worn, You'll judge the seasons by your shooting corn.

Nor should it prove thy less important care, To choose a proper coat for winter's wear. Now in thy trunk thy D'Oily habit fold, The silken drugget ill can fence the cold ; The frieze's spongy nap is soak'd with rain, And showers soon drench the camblet's cockled

grain ;

True Witney (a) broad-cloth, with its shag un

shorn, Unpierced is in the lasting tempest worn : Be this the horseman's fence, for who would wear Amid the town the spoils of Russia's bear ? Within the roquelaure's clasp thy hands are pent, Hands, that, stretch'd forth, invading harms pre

vent. Let the loop'd bavaroy the fop embrace, Or his deep cloak bespatter'd o'er with lace. That garment best the winter's rage defends, Whose ample form without one plait depends ; By various names (6) in various counties known, Yet held in all the true surtout alone; Be thine of kersey firm, though small the cost, Then brave unwet the rain, unchill'd the frost.

If the strong cane support thy walking hand, Chairmen no longer shall the wall command ; Even sturdy carmen shall thy nod obey, . And rattling coaches stop to make thee way : This shall direct thy cautious tread aright, Though not one glaring lamp enliven night. Let beaux their canes, with amber tipt, produce ; Be theirs for empty show, but thine for use. In gilded chariots while they loll at ease, And lazily ensure a life's disease ; While softer chairs the tawdry load convey

To court, to White's(c), assemblies, or the play ; Rosy-complexion'd Health thy steps attends, And exercise thy lasting youth defends.

(a) A town in Oxfordshire.
(b) A Joseph, wrap-rascal, &c.
ic) A chocolate-house in St James' Street.

Imprudent men Heaven's choicest gifts profane :
Thus some beneath their arm support the cane;
The dirty point oft checks the careless pace,
And miry spots the clean cravat disgrace.
Oh! may I never such misfortune meet!
May no such vicious walkers crowd the street !
May Providence o'ershade me with her wings,
While the bold Muse experienced danger sings !

SONG. SWEET woman is like the fair flower in its lustre,

Which in the garden enamels the ground; Near it the bees, in play, flutter and cluster,

And gaudy butterflies frolic around;

But when once pluck'd, 'tis no longer alluring,

To Covent-Garden 'tis sent (as yet sweet), There fades, and shrinks, and grows past all en

during, Rots, stinks, and dies, and is trod under feet.


BORN 1714-DIED 1763.

SHENSTONE was born at the place his fine taste has since made so celebrated, the Leasowes in Hales-Owen. His first instructress was an old dame, the prototype of his village schoolmistress. Shenstone discovered an early taste for reading, and while at Oxford published a small

poetical miscellany. His father died while he was still very young; and on quitting college, and coming to his small patrimony, instead of engaging in any active profession, he led a sauntering life of elegant poetic indolence, going about from one fashionable watering-place to another, composing elegies and celebrating Phillis, whom he liked better to praise than marry; as, Johnson says, he might have obtained the lady if he had chosen. In this manner life glided away, and satiety and ennui crept on the solitary poetical dreamer. Shenstone's ruling passion was the embellishment of his estate, to which, by involying his fortune, he sacrificed his domestic comfort and ease of mind. It is not a little curious to see how the rural poetical bachelor is estimated by another of the same species, whose life was chiefly spent in collegesthe poet Gray. “ Poor man!” says Gray, “ he was always wishing for money, for fame, and other distinctions ; and his whole philosophy consisted in living against his will in retirement, and in a place which his taste had adorned, but which he only enjoyed when people of note came to commend it : his correspondence is about nothing else but this place and his own writings, with two or three neighbouring clergymen, who wrote

verses too." His lyrics are generally pleasing; his ballad of Jemmy Daw.

son is an agreeable imitation of the old ballad of Gilderoy, and some of his strains even reach true natural pathos. Every young reader has been delighted with the pastoral ballad. The Schoolmistress is a beautiful unique.

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