345 346 Where low-browed baseness wafts perfume to pride. With powers as far above dull brutes endued In forest, brake, or den, As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude; But know their rights, and, knowing, dare maintain, And crush the tyrant while they rend the chain: And sovereign Law, that State's collected will, Sits Empress, crowning good, repressing ill. The fiend, Dissension, like a vapour sinks, Hides her faint rays, and at her bidding shrinks. Than Lesbos fairer and the Cretan shore! Shall Britons languish, and be men no more? Those sweet rewards, which decorate the brave, And steal inglorious to the silent grave. ON PARENT Knees a NAKED NEW-BORN CHILD SUSANNA BLAMIRE [1747-1794] AND YE SHALL WALK IN SILK ATTIRE AND ye shall walk in silk attire, And siller1 hae to spare, 1 Money. Gin ye'll consent to be his bride, The mind wha's every wish is pure Far dearer is to me; And ere I'm forced to break my faith, For I ha'e pledged my virgin troth His gentle manners wan my heart, And ere I'm forced to break my troth 347 ANNE HUNTER [1742-1821] MY MOTHER BIDS ME BIND MY HAIR My mother bids me bind my hair Tie up my sleeves with ribbons rare, 'For why,' she cries, sit still and weep, While others dance and play?' Alas! I scarce can go or creep While Lubin is away. 2 Worse. 348 'Tis sad to think the days are gone And sigh when none can hear. And while I spin my flaxen thread, JOHN DUNLOP [1755-1820] THE YEAR THAT'S AWA' HERE'S to the year that's awa'! We will drink it in strong and in sma'; Here's to the sodger who bled, And the sailor who bravely did fa'; Their fame is alive, etc. Here's to the friends we can trust When storms of adversity blaw; May they live in our song and be nearest our hearts, May they live, etc. 349 SAMUEL ROGERS [1763-1855] A WISH MINE be a cot beside the hill; A bee-hive's hum shall soothe my ear; The swallow, oft, beneath my thatch, Around my ivy'd porch shall spring The village-church among the trees, 350 THE SLEEPING BEAUTY SLEEP on, and dream of Heaven awhile— And move, and breathe delicious sighs! Ah, now soft blushes tinge her cheeks She starts, she trembles, and she weeps! Sleep on secure! Above controul 351 WILLIAM BLAKE [1757-1827] THE TIGER TIGER, tiger, burning bright In what distant deeps or skies And what shoulder and what art What the hammer? What the chain? When the stars threw down their spears, Did He smile His work to see? Did He who made the lamb make thee? |