MAD MOLL.

(FROM BLOOMFIELD'S "FARMER'S BOY.")

Nature's pride

Was lovely Poll, who innocently tried,
With hat of airy shape and ribbons gay,
Love to inspire, and stand in Hymen's way
But, ere her twentieth summer could expand,
Or youth was rendered happy with her hand,
Her mind's serenity, her peace, was gone-
Her eye grew languid, and she wept alone;
Yet causeless seem'd her grief-for, quick restrain',
Mirth follow'd loud, or indignation reign'd;
Whims wild and simple led her from her home,
The heath, the common, or the fields to roam ;
Terror and joy alternate ruled her hours;
Now blithe she sung, and gather'd useless flow'rs;
Now pluck'd a tender twig from every bough,
To whip the hov'ring demons from her brow.
Ill-fated Maid! thy guiding spark is fled,
And lasting wretchedness awaits thy bed-
Thy bed of straw! for mark, where even now
O'er their lost child th' afflicted parents bow!
Their woe she knows not, but, perversely coy,
Inverted customs yield her sullen joy;
Her midnight meals in secrecy she takes,
Low mutt'ring to the moon, that rising breaks
Through night's dark gloom-oh, how much more
forlorn

Her night, that knows of no returning morn!
Slow from the threshold, once her infant seat,
O'er the cold earth she crawls to her retreat;
Quitting the cot's warm walls unhoused to lie,
Or share the swine's impure and narrow sty;
The damp night air her shiv'ring limbs assails ;
In dreams she moans, and fancied wrongs bewails.
When morning wakes, none earlier roused than she,
When pendant drops fall glitt'ring from the tree.
But nought her rayless melancholy cheers,

Or soothes her breast, or stops her streaming tears.

Her matted locks unornamented flow;
Clasping her knees, and waving to and fro,
Her head bow'd down, her faded cheek to hide;
A piteous mourner by the pathway side.

Some tufted molehill through the livelong day
She calls her throne-there weeps her life away;
And oft the gaily passing stranger stays
His well-timed step, and takes a silent gaze,
Till sympathetic drops unbidden start,

And pangs quick springing muster round his heart;
And soft he treads, with other gazers round,

behind!

And fain would catch her sorrow's plaintive sound;
One word alone is all that strikes the ear,
One short, pathetic, simple word--" My dear !”
A thousand times repeated to the wind,
That wafts the sigh, but leaves the pang
For ever of the proffered parley shy,
She hears the unwelcome foot advancing nigh;
Nor quite unconscious of her wretched plight,
Gives one sad look, and hurries out of sight.
Fair promised sunbeams of terrestrial bliss,
Health's gallant hopes, and are ye sunk to this?
For in life's road though thorns abundant grow,
There still are joys poor Poll can never know;
Joys which the gay companions of her prime
Sip, as they drift along the stream of time:
At eve to hear beside their tranquil home
The lifted latch, that speaks the lover come;
That love matured, next, playful on the knee
To press the velvet lip of infancy;

To stay the tottering step, the features trace;
Inestimable sweets of social peace!

O Thou, who bidst the vernal juices rise!
Thou, on whose blasts autumnal foliage flies!
Let Peace ne'er leave me, nor my heart grow cold,
Whilst life and sanity are mine to hold.

THE BASHFUL MAN.

Among the various good and bad qualities incident to our nature, I am that unfortunate kind of being overstocked with the one called bashfulness: for you must know, I inherit such an extreme susceptibility of shame, that on the smallest subject of confusion my blood rushes into my cheeks, and I appear a perfect full-blown rose; in short, I am commonly known by the appellation of "The Bashful Man."

The consciousness of this unhappy failing made me formerly avoid that social company I should have been ambitious to appear in; till at length becoming possessed of an ample fortune by the death of an old rich uncle, and vainly supposing that "money makes the man," I at last determined to conquer my timidity, and three days ago accepted of an invitation to dine this day with one whose open easy manner left me no room to doubt a cordial welcome.

Sir Thomas Friendly, who lives about two miles distant, is a baronet, with about two thousand pounds a year estate, adjoining to that I purchased: he has two sons and five daughters, all grown up, and living with their mother, and a maiden sister of Sir Friendly's, at Friendly Hall, dependent on their father. Conscious of my unpolished gait, I have some time past taken private lessons of a professor,who teaches "grown gentlemen to dance ;" and though at first I found wondrous difficulty in the art he taught, my knowledge of the mathematics was of prodigious use in teaching me the equilibrium of my body, and the due adjustment of the centre of gravity to the five positions, Having now acquired the art of walking without tottering, and learned to make a bow, I boldly ventured to accept the baronet's invitation to a family dinner, not doubting but my new acquirements would enable me to see the ladies with tolerable intrepidity: but, alas! how vain are all the hopes of theory, when unsupported by habitual practice. As I approached the house, a dinner bell alarmed my fears lest I had spoiled the

dinner for want of punctuality: impressed with this idea, I blushed the deepest crimson as my name was repeatedly announced by the several livery servants, who ushered me into the library, hardly knowing what or whom I saw.

At my first entrance, I summoned all my fortitude, and made my new-learned bow to Lady Friendly: but unfortunately, in bringing back my left foot to the third position, I trod upon the gouty toe of Sir Thomas, who had followed close at my heels, to be the Nomenclator of his family. The confusion this occasioned in me is hardly to be conceived, since none but bashful men can judge of my distress, and of that description the number I believe is very small. The baronet's politeness by degrees dissipated my concern, and I was astonished to see how far good-breeding could enable him to suppress his feelings, and to appear with perfect ease after so painful an accident.

The cheerfulness of her Ladyship, and the familiar chat of the young ladies, insensibly led me to throw off my reserve and sheepishness, till at length I ventured to join in conversation, and even to start fresh subjects. The library being richly furnished with books in elegant bindings, I conceived Sir Thomas to be a man of literature, and ventured to give my opinion concerning the several editions of the Greek classics, in which the Baronet's opinion exactly coincided with my own. To this subject I was led by observing an edition of Xenophon in sixteen volumes, which (as I had never before heard of such a thing) greatly excited my curiosity, and I rose up to examine what it could be. Sir Thomas saw what I was about, and (as I suppose) willing to save me trouble, rose to take down the book, which made me more eager to prevent him, and hastily laying my hand on the first volume, I pulled it forcibly; but lo! instead of books, a board, which by leather and gilding had been made to look like sixteen volumes, came tumbling down, and unluckily pitched upon a Wedgwood ink-stand on the table under it. In vain did Sir Thomas assure

me there was no harm; I saw the ink streaming from an inlaid table on the Turkey carpet, and, scarce knowing what I did, attempted to stop its progress with my cambric handkerchief.

In the height of this confusion, we were informed that dinner was served up, and I with joy perceived that the bell, which at first had so alarmed my fears, was only the half-hour dinner bell.

In walking through the hall and suite of apartments to the dining-room, I had time to collect my scattered senses, and was desired to take my seat betwixt Lady Friendly and her eldest daughter at the table. Since the fall of the wooden Xenophon, my face had been continually burning like a firebrand, and I was just beginning to recover myself, and to feel comfortably cool, when an unlooked for accident rekindled all my heat and blushes. Having set my plate of soup too near the edge of the table, in bowing to Miss Dinah, who politely complimented the pattern of my waistcoat, I tumbled the whole scalding contents into my lap. In spite of an immediate supply of napkins, to wipe the surface of my clothes, my black silk breeches were not stout enough to save me from the painful effects of this sudden fomentation, and for some minutes my legs and thighs seemed stewing in a boiling cauldron; but recollecting how Sir Thomas had disguised his torture when I trod upon his toe, I firmly bore my pain in silence, and sat with my lower extremities parboiled, amidst the stifled giggling of the ladies and the servants.

I will not relate the several blunders which I made during the first course, or the distress occasioned by my being desired to carve a fowl, or help to various dishes that stood near me, spilling a sauce-boat, and knocking down a salt cellar; rather let me hasten to the second course," where fresh disasters overwhelmed me quite."

I had a piece of rich sweet pudding on my fork, when Miss Louisa Friendly begged to trouble me for a pigeon that stood near me. In my haste, scarcely