« AnteriorContinuar »
Alas! from the day that we met,
What hope of an end to my woes ? When I cannot endure to forget
The glance that undid my repose. Yet time may diminish the pain :
The flower, and the shrub, and the tree, Which I rear'd for her pleasure in vain,
In time may have comfort for me. The sweets of a dew-sprinkled rose,
The sound of a murmuring stream, The peace which from solitude flows,
Henceforth shall be Corydon's theme. High transports are shown to the sight,
But we are not to find them our own;
As I with my Phyllis had known.
To your deepest recesses I fly;
I would vanish from every eye. Yet my reed shall resound through the grove
With the same sad complaint it begun ; How she smil'd, and I could not but love;
Was faithless, and I am undone!
THE RAPE OF THE TRAP.
'Twas in a land of learning,
The muses' favourite city,
As-tempt one to be witty.
Where books were in great plenty ;
Than I cou'd write-in twenty.
Corporeal food, 'tis granted,
Serves vermin less refin'd, Sir;
And he prey'd on the food of the mind, Sir. His breakfast, half the morning,
He constantly attended; And when the bell rung For evening song,
His dinner scarce was ended!
On which we poets pride us ;
Than all the world beside does.
He made the maps to flutter:
And a kingdom, bread and butter.
Might chance to over-dose him,
Of logic—to compose him-
Was bought you need not doubt on 't;
He could not, I think get out on't.
The fact I'll not belye itSince none-l'll tell you thatWhether scholar or rat
Mind books, when he has other diet.
* By Blackmore.
But more of trap and bait, Sir,
Why should I sing, or either? Since the rat, who knew the slight, Came in the dead of night,
And dragg'd them away together :
Through a fracture in the flooring;
Had then a dozen or more in.
Nor deem a man to wrong ye, Had the rat which thus did seize op The trap, less claim to reason,
Than many a skull among ye? Dan Prior's mice, I own it,
Were vermin of condition ; But this rat who merely learn'd What rats alone concern'd,
Was the greater politician. That England's topsy-turvy,
Is clear from these mishaps, Sir; Since traps we may determine, Will no longer take our vermin,
But vermin take our traps, Sir. Let sophs by rats infested,
Then trust in cats to catch 'em ; Lest they grow as learn’d as we, In our studies; where, d' ye seė,
No mortal sits to watch 'em.
Good luck betide our cats, Sir :
And the other destroy our rats, Sir.
• Written at the time of the Spanish depredations, WRITTEN AT AN INN AT HENLY.
To thee, fair freedom! I retire,
From flattery, cards, and dice, and din ;
Than the low cot, or humble inn.
And every health which I begin,
Such freedom crowns it at an inn.
I fly from falsehood's specious grin;
And choose my lodgings at an inn.
It buys me freedom at an inn.
Where'er his stages may have been,
The warmest welcome at an inn.
THE JUDGMENT OF HERCULES.
Wuile blooming spring descends from genial skies,
There, warm'd alike by Sol's enlivening power,
'Tis thus the spring of youth, the morn of life,
There are, who, blind to thought's fatiguing ray,
Happiest of these is he whose matchless mind,
'Twas youth's perplexing stage his doubts inspir'd,