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Nor leaves a remnant of the bloody feaft,
Save a few fluttering feathers fcatter'd round
(That, with their varied plumage, whilom deck'd
The flaughter'd prey), to tell the hapless tale.

Thus joylefs do I fpend thofe hours the fun
Illuminates; and, when the filver moon
Her gentle ray difpenfes, and invites
The fwains and maids to mix in jovial dance,
Around the towering may-poles of the green,
Where each gay plowman does his partner choose
As love or fate directs; or o'er the lawn
The needle thread, or tofs the bounding ball;
All cheerlefs I, nor dance, nor pleasing sport,
Nor focial mirth, nor bowl of nappy ale,
Partake: but, on her drooping raven wing,
Sad Melancholy hovers o'er my head,
Pale Envy rankles deep within my breast,
And baneful venom fheds. Grim Horror too
Attends my thoughts, and fills my gloomy mind
With tales of gliding fprites, in milk-white

shrouds

Array'd, and rattling chains, and yelling ghofts
Irafcible! or Fancy, mimic queen,
To fwift imagination's eye prefents
A group of tiny elves, in circling dance,

Or luscious feaft employ'd; fuch elves as danc'd
When Oberon did fair Titania wed;
While I, in withes impotent and vain,
For Liberty, dear object of my hopes,
The tedious moments fpend; or if, perchance,
Morpheus invok'd, my heavy eye-lids clofe,
Dear Liberty ftill haunts my fleeping thoughts,
And in a fhort-liv'd dream thofe joys I tatte,
Which waking are denied; and beat the hoop
With dextrous hand, or run with feet as fwift
As feather'd arrow flies from archer's bow;
Till, from my flumber wak'd, too foon I find
It was illufion all, and mockery vain.

Thus, comfortlefs, appall'd, forlorn, I pafs The tardy hours, nor of thofe viands taste, Which are on other boys full oft beflow'd, In plenteous manner, by the liberal hand Of friend indulgent; apple-pye, or dart, Or trembling cuftard of delicious goût, Or frothy fyllabub in copious bowl. Hard fate for me! Yet harder ftill betides Me, hapless youth! My faithful top, that oft Has cheer'd my drooping fpirits, and reviv'd My faddening thoughts, when o'er the pavement

finooth

It fpins, and fleeps, and to its master's hand
Does ample juftice, now, alas! become
To all the rude inclemencies of weather,
To time and deftiny's relentless doom
A miferable victim, quite decay'd
With many fervices, and cleft throughout,
All ufclefs lies; ah! fight of faddeft woe
To wretched me! of every hope bereft,
Of every gleam of comfort. So the wretch,
Who near or Ætna or Vefuvius dwells,
Beholds the fulphurous flames, the molten rocks,
And feels the ground trembling beneath his feet;
1 ill with a horrid yawn it opens wide
Before his eyes, all glaring with affright;

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In fprightly bumpers, and the mantling bowl.
Far otherwife within thefe darkfome walls,
Whole gates, with rows of triple steel secur'd,
And many a bolt, prohibit all egrefs,

I fpend my joylefs days, ere dawn appears,
Rous'd from my peaceful flumbers by the found
Of awe-infpiring bell, whofe every stroke
Chills my heart-blood, all trembling, I defcend
From dreary garret, round whose ancient roof,
Gaping with hideous chinks, the whistling blaft
Perpetual raves, and fierce-defcending rains
Ditcharge their fury-dire, lethargic dews
Opprefs my drowly fenfe; fill fancy teems
With fond ideal joys, and, fir'd with what
Or poets fing, or fabled tale records,
Prefents tranfporting vifions; goblets crown'd
With juice of nectar, or the food divine
Of rich ambrofia, tempting to the fight!
While, in the thade of fome embowering grove,
I lie reclin'd, or through Ely fian plains
Enraptur'd ftray; where every plant and flower
Send forth an odorous fmell, and all the air
With fongs of love and melody refounds.
Meanwhile benumbing cold invades my joints,
As with flow faltering footsteps I refort
To where, of antique mold, a lofty dome
Rears its tremendous front; here all at once
From thoufand different tongues a mighty hum
Affaults my ear; loud as the diftant roar
Of tumbling torrents; or as in fome mart
Of public note, for traffic far renown'd,
Where Jew with Grecian, Turk with African,
Affembled, in one general peal unite
Of dreadful jargon.-Straight on wooden bench
I take my feat, and con with ftudious care
Th' appointed talks; o'er many a puzzling page
Poring intent, and fage Athenian bard,

With dialect, and mood, and tenfe perplex'd;
And conjugations varied without end.

When lo! with haughty stride (in fize like him
Who erft, extended on the burning lake,
Lay floating many a rood) his fullen brow,
With lowering frowns and fearful glooms o'er-
caft,

Enters the pedagogue; terrific fight!

An ample ninefold peruke, spread immense,
Luxuriant waving down his shoulders plays;
His right-hand fiercely grafps an oaken staff,
His left a bunch of limber twigs fuftains,
Call'd by the vulgar birch, Tartarean root,
Whofe rankling points, in blackest poifon dipt,
Inflict a mortal pain; and, where they light,
A ghaftly furrow leave.-A folemn paufe enfues
As when, of old, the monarch of the floods,
'Midft raging hurricanes and battling waves,
Shaking the dreadful trident, rear'd aloft.
His awful brow. --Sudden the furious winds
Were hush'd in peace, the billows ceas'd their

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:

Meanwhile, the pedagogue throughout the

dome

Imprinting horrid wounds, with fatal flow
Of blood attended, and convulfive pangs.

Curft be the wretch, for ever doom'd to bear Infernal whippings; he, whofe favage hands First grafp'd these barbarous weapons, bitter

cause

Of foul difgrace, and many a dolorous groan,
To hapless fchool-boy !-Could it not fuffice
I groan'd and toil'd beneath the merciless weight
By ftern relentless tyranny impos'd;

But fcourges too, and cudgels, were referv'd
To goad my harrow'd fides: this wretched life
Loading with heavier ills! a life expos'd
To all the woes of hunger, toil, diftrefs;
Cut off from every genial fource of blifs;
From evey bland amufement, wont to footh
The youthful breaft; except when father Time,
In joyful change, rolls round the festive hour,
That gives this meagre, pining figure back
To parent fondnefs, and its native roofs !
Fir'd with the thought, then, then, my towering

foul

Rifes fuperior to its load, and fpurns
Its proud oppreffors; frantic with delight,
My fancy riots in fucceffive fcenes
Of blifs and pleasures: plans and schemes are laid
How beft the fleeting moments to improve,
Nor lofe one portion of fo rare a boon.

But foon, too foon, the glorious fcenes are filed,
Scarce one fhort moon enjoy'd; (uh! tranfient state
Of fublunary blifs!) by bitter change,

And other fcenes fucceeded, what herce pangs
Then rack my foul! what ceafelefs floods of
grief
[throbs
Ruth down my cheeks, while ftrong convulfive
Heave all my frame, and choak the power of fpecch!
Forlorn I figh, nor heed the gentle voice

His fiery eye-balls, like two blazing stars,
Portentous rolls, on fome unthinking wretch
To shed their baleful influence; whilft his voice,Of friend or firanger, who, with foothing words

Like thunder, or the cannon's fudden buift,
Three times is heard, and thrice the roofs

found!

And fleader gift, would fain beguile my woes :
re-In vain; for what can aught avail to footh
Such raging anguish? Oft with sudden glance
Before my eyes in all its horror glares
That well-known form, and oft I feem to hear
The thundering fcourge-ah me! e'en now I feel
Its deadly venom, raging as the pangs
That tore Alcides, when the burning veft
Prey'd on his wafted fides. At length return'd
Within these hated walls, again I mourn
A fullen prifoner, till the with'd approach
Of joyous holiday or feftive play

A fudden palenefs gathers in my face;
Through all my limbs a ftiffening horror fpreads,
Cold as the dews of death; nor heed my eyes
Their wonted function, but in ftupid gaze
Ken the fell monster; from my trembling hands
The time-worn volume drops; oh, dire prefage
Of inftant woe! for now the mighty found,
Pregnant with difmal tidings, once again
Strikes my aftonifh'd ears: transfix'd with awe,
And fenfelefs for a time, I ftand; but foon,
By friendly jog or neighbouring whisper rous'd,
Obey the dire injunction; straight I loose
Depending brogues, and mount the lofty throne
Indignant, or the black oblique afcend
Of forrowful compeer; nor long delays
The monarch, from his palace ftalking down,
With vifage all inflam'd; his fable robe
Sweeping in lengthening folds along the ground:
He fhakes his feeptre, and th' impending fcourge
Brandifhes high; nor tears nor fliricks avail;
But with impetuous fury it defcends,

Releafes me: ah! freedom that must end
With thee, declining Sol! All hail, ye fires
For fanctity renown'd, whofe glorious names,
In large confpicuous characters pouttray'd,
Adorn the annual chronologic page
Of Wing or Partridge; oft, when fore oppreft
With dire calamities, the glad return
Of your triumphant festivals hath cheer'd
My drooping foul. Nor be thy name forgot,
Illuftrious George; for much to thee I owe
Of heart-felt rapture, as with loval zeal
Glowing, I pile the crackling bontire high,
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Or

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I plunge into the limpid ftream, that laves The filent vale; or, on its graffy banks, Beneath fome oak's majestic thade recline, Envying the vagrant fishes, as they pafs, Their boon of freedom; till the distant found Of tolling curfew warns me to depart.

of

Thus under tyrant-pow'r I groan, opprefs'd
With worfe than flavery; yet iny free-born foul
Her native warmth forgets not, nor will brook
Menace, or taunt, from proud infulting peer;
But fummons to the field the doughty foe
In fingle combat, 'midft th' impartial throng,
There to decide our fate: oft too, inflam'd
With mutual rage, two rival armies meet
Of youthful warriors; kindling at the fight,
My foul is fill'd with vaft heroic thoughts,
Trufting, in martial glory, to furpafs
Roman or Grecian chief; inftant, with fhouts,
The mingling fquadrons join the horrid fray;
No need of cannor, or the murderous fteel,
Wide wafting nature: rage our arms fupplies.
Fragments of rock are hurl'd, and fhowers of
ftones

Obfcure the day; nor lefs the brawny arm,
Or knotted club, avail; high in the midft
Are feen the mighty chiefs, through hofts of foes
Mowing their way; and now, with tenfold r-ge
The combat burns, full many a fanguine ftream
Diftains the field, and many a veteran brave
Lies proftrate; loud triumphant fhouts afcend
By turns from either hoft; each claims the palm
Of glorious conqueft; nor till night's dun fhades
Involve the sky, the doubtful conflict ends.

Thus, when rebellion fhook the thrones of heaven,

And all th' eternal powers in battle met,
High o'er the reft, with vaft gigantic ftrides,
The godlike leaders, on th' embattled plain,
Came towering, breathing forth revenge and fate;
Nor lefs terrific join'd the inferior hofts
Of angel-warriors, when encountering hills
Tore the rent concave-flashing with the blaze
Of fiery arms, and lightnings, not of Jove;
All heaven refounded, and the aftonish'd deep
Of chaos bellow'd with the monstrous roar.

The Earls of Berkeley and of Galway.

§ 209.

Written in a Lady's Ivory Table-book,
1699.
SWIFT.

PERUSE my leaves through every part,
And think thou feeft my owner's heart,
Scrawl'd o'er with trifles thus, and quite
As hard, as.fenfclefs, and as light;
Expos'd to every coxcomb's eyes,
But hid with caution from the wife.
Here you may read, "Dear charming faint!"
Beneath, "A new receipt for paint:"
Here, in beau-fpelling, "Tru tel deth;"
There, in her own, For an el breth :"
Here," Lovely nymph, pronounce my doom!"?
There, "A fafe way to ufe perfume:"
Here, a page fiil'd with billet-doux:
On t'other fide, "Laid out for fhoes."
"Madam, 1 die without your grace:'

Item, for half a yard of lace."-
Who that had wit would place it here,
For every peeping fop to jeer?
In pow'r of fpittle and a clout,
Whene 'cr he please, to blot it out;
And then, to heighten the di grace,
Clap his own nonfenfe in the place,
Whoe'er expects to hold his part
In fuch a book, and fuch a heart,
If he be wealthy, and a fool,
Is in all points the fittest tool;
Of whom it may be justly faid,
He's a gold pencil tipp'd with lead.

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That I went to warm myfelf in Lady + Betty's chamber, becauf. I was cold;'

And I had in a purte feven pounds, four fhillings and fix-pence, befides farthings, in money and gold:

So, because I had been buying things for my Lady last night,

I was refolv'd to tell my money, to fee if it was right.

Now, you must know, because my trunk hast a very bad lock,

Therefore all the money I have, which, God knows, is a very fniall ftock,

I keep in my pocket, tied about my middle, next to my fhock.

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be here anon.

But when I fearch'd, and mifs'd my purfe, Lord! No, said I, 'tis the fame thing, the chaplain will
I thought I fhould have funk outright.
Lord! Madam, fays Mary, how d'ye do? In-
deed, says I, never worse :

But pray, Mary, can you tell what I have done with my purfe?

Lord help me! faid Mary, I never ftirr'd out of this place: [that's a plain cafe. Nay, faid I, I had it in Lady Betty's chamber, So Mary got me to bed, and cover'd me up warm; However, the ftole away my garters, that I might do myself no harm. [well think, So I tumbled and tofs'd all night, as you may very But hardly ever fet my eyes together, or ficpt a wink.

So I was a-dream'd, methought, that we went and fearch'd the folks round, And in a corner of Mrs. Duke's box, tied in a rag, the money was found. [a-fwearing: So next morning we told Whittle f, and he fell Then my dame Wadgar came; and fhe, you

know, is thick of hearing. Dame, faid I, as loud as I could bawl, do you know what a lofs I have had?

Nay, faid the, my Lord Colway's § folks are all very fad; [without fail. For my Lord Dromedary | comes o' Tuesday Pugh! faid I, but that's not the bufinefs that I ail. Says Cary, fays he, I have been a fervant this five-and-twenty years come fpring, And in all the places I liv'd I never heard of fuch a thing.

So

the chaplain + came in: now the fervants fay he is my fweetheart,

Becaufe he's always in my chamber, and I always take his part.

So, as the Devil would have it, before I was aware, out I blunder'd, Parfon, faid I, can you caft a nativity, when a body's plunder'd? [fon like the Devil!) (Now you must know he hates to be call'd parTruly, fays he, Mrs. Nab, it might become you to be more civil; [d'ye fee, If your money be gone, as a learned divine fays, You are no text for my handling; fo take that from me : [you to know. I was never taken for a conjurer before, I'd have Lord! faid I, don't be angry, I'm fure I never thought you fo;

You know I honour the cloth; I defign to be a parfon's wife; [all my life. I never took one in your coat for a conjurer in With that he twifted his girdle at me like a rope, as who fhould fay, [went away. Now you may go hang yourfelf for me! and fo Well, I thought I thould have fwoon'd: Lord! faid I, what fhail I do? [love too! I have loft my money, and fhall lofe my trueTher. my Lord call'd me: Harry§§, faid my Lord, don't cry;

I'll

Yes, fays the fteward, I remember, when IO! was at my Lady Shrewsbury's,

Such a thing as this happen'd just about the time
of goofeberries.

So I went to the party fufpected, and I found her
full of grief :
[I hate a thief.)
(Now you must know, of all things in the world,
However, I was refolv'd to bring the difcourfe
flily about:
[happen'd out:
Mrs. Dukes, faid I, here 's an ugly accident has
'Tis not that I value the money three kips of a
loufetti

But the thing I ftand upon is the credit of the house.
'Tis true, feven pounds, four fhillings, and fix-
pence, makes a great hole in my wages:
Befides, as they fay, fervice is no inheritance in
thefe ages.
[understands,
Now, Mrs. Dukes, you know, and every body
That tho' 'tis hard to judge, yet money can't go
[ever I faw 't!
The Devil take me! faid the (blefling herfelf) if
So the roar'd like a bedlam, as tho' I had call'd

without hands.

her all to naught.

So you know, what could I fay to her any more? I e'en left her,and came away as wife as I was before. Well; but then they would have had me gone to the cunning man!

* Wife to one of the footmen. Galway.

Clerk of the kitchen. ‡‡ Dr. Swift.

give fomething towards thy lofs; and, fays my Lady, So will I.

but, faid I, what if, after all, the chaplain won't come to? [1 muft petition you. For that, he said (an't please your Excellencies), The premiffes tenderly confider'd, I defire your Excellencies protection,

And that I may have a fhare in next Sunday's collection; [cellencies letter, And, over and above, that I may have your ExWith an order for the chaplain aforefaid, or, in ftead of him, a better:

And then your poor petitioner, both night and day, Or the chaplain (for 'tis his trade), as in duty bound, fhall ever pray.

§ 211. A Defeription of the Morning. 1709. NOW hardly here and there a hackney-coach

Appearing, fhew'd the ruddy morn's approach. Now Betty from her inafter's bed had flown, And foftly ftole to difcompofe her own; The flipthod 'prentice from his master's door Had par'd the dirt, and sprinkled round the floor. Now Moll had whirl'd her mop with dextrous airs, Prepar'd to ferub the entry and the ftairs. The youth with broomy fumps began to trace The kennel's edge, where wheels had worn the place.

+ Earl of Berkeley's Valet.

The old deaf houfekeeper.

The Earl of Drogheda, who with the Primate was to fucceed the two Earls.
** Ferris.
++ An ufual faying of hers.
§§ A cant word of Lord and Lady B. to Mrs. Harris.

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The

The fmallcoal-man was heard with cadence deep,
Till drown'd in thriller notes of chimney-fwecp:
Duns at his Lordship's gate began to meet,
And brick-duft Moll had feream'd through half

the street:

The turnkey now his flock returning fees,
Duly let out a-nights to fteal for fees.
The watchful bailiffs take their filent ftands,
And fchool-boys lag with fatchels in their hands.

212. A Defeription of a City Shower. In

(Those bully Greeks, who, as the moderns do,
Inftead of paying chairmen, ran them through),
Laocoon ftruck the outfide with his fpear,
And each imprifon'd hero quak'd for fear.

Now from all parts the fwelling kennels flow,
And bear their trophies with them as they go:
Filths of all hues and odours feem to tell
What street they fail'd from bytheir fight and smell.
They, as each torrent drives, with rapid force
From Smithfield or St. 'Pulchre's fhape their courfe;
And, in huge confluence join'd at Snow-hill ridge,
Imi-Fall from the conduit prone to Holborn-bridge.
Sweepings from butchers' stalls, dung, guts,
and blood,

tation of Virgil's Georgics. 1710. CAREFUL obfervers may foretel the hour, By fure prognoftics, when to dread a fhow'r. While rain depends, the pentive cat gives o'er Her frolics, and purfues her tail no more. Returning home at night, you'll find the fink Strike your offended fenfe with double ftink. you be wife, then go not far to dine;

If

You 'il fpend in coach-hire more than fave in wine.
A coming fhow'r your fhooting corns prefage,
Old achs will throb, your hollow tooth will rage;
Sauntering in coffee-houfe is Dulman seen;
He damns the climate, and complains of fpleen.
Meanwhile the fouth, rifing with dabbled wings,
A fable cloud athwart the welkin flings,
That fwill'd more liquor than it could contain,
And, like a drunkard, gives it up again.
Brik Sufan whips her linen from the rope,
While the firft drizzling fhower is borne aflope:
Such is that fprinkling which fome carelefs quean,
Flirts on you from her mop, but not so clean :
You fly, invoke the gods; then, turning, ftop
To rail; the, finging, ftill whirls on her mop.
Not yet the duft had fhunn'd th' unequal ftrife,
But, aided by the wind, fought still for life;
And, wafted with its foe by violent guft,
'Twas doubtful which was rain,andwhich was duft.
Ah! where muft needy poet feek for aid,
When duft and rain at once his coat invade?
Sole coat! where duft cemented by the rain
Erects the nap, and leaves a cloudy stain!
Now in contiguous drops the flood comes
down,

Threatening with deluge this devoted town.
To thops in crowds the daggled females fly,
Pretend to cheapen goods, but nothing buy.
The Templar fpruce, while every spout's abroach,
Stays till 'tis fair, yet feems to call a coach.
The tuck'd-up fempitrefs walks with hafty ftrides,
While ftreams run down her oil'd umbrella's fides.
Here various kinds, by various fortunes led,
Commence acquaintance underneath a fhed.
Triumphant Tories and defponding Whigs
Forget their feuds, and join to fave their wigs.
Box'd in a chair, the beau impatient fits,
While fpouts run clattering o'er the roof by
And ever and anon with frightful din
The leather founds; he trembles from within.
So when Troy chairmen bore the wooden ficed,
Pregnant with Greeks, impatient to be freed
Mr. Beaumont of Trim.
eurate at Laracor. § Stella.

Drown'd puppies, ftinking sprats, all drench'd in mud,

Dead cats, and turnip-tops, come tumbling down the flood.

§ 213.
WHOEVER pleafeth to enquire
Why yonder fteeple wants a spire,
The
grey old fellow poet Joe
The philofophic caufe will fhew.
Once on a time a western blaft
At least twelve inches overcaft,
Reckoning roof, weathercock, and all,
Which came with a prodigious fall;
And, tumbling topfy-turvy round,
Lit with its bottom on the ground.
For, by the laws of gravitation,
It fell into its proper
ftation.

On the little Houfe by the Church-yard of
Caflenock. 1710.

This is a little ftrutting pile
You fee juft by the church-yard ftile;
The walls in tumbling gave a knock,
And thus the feeple got a fhock;
From whence the neighbouring farmer calls
The fteeple, Knock; the vicart, Walls.

The vicar once a week creeps in,
Sits with his knee up to his chin;
Here conns his notes and takes a whet,
Till the fmall ragged flock is met.

A traveller, who by did pats,
Obferv'd the roof behind the grafs;
On tip-toe fteed, and rear'd his fnout,
And faw the parton creeping out;
Was much furpris'd to fee a crow
Venture to build his neft fo low.
A school-boy ran unto 't, and thought
The crib was down, the blackbird caught.
A third, who loft his way by night,
Was forc'd for fafety to alight;
And, ftepping o'er the fabric roof,
His horfe had like to fpoil his hoof.

Warburton took it in his noddle,
fits,This building was defign'd a model
Or of a pigeon-house or oven,
To bake one loaf, and keep one dove in.

Then Mrs. Johnfon § gave her verdict,
And every one was pleas'd that heard it:
Archdeacon Wall, a correfpondent of Swift's.

Dr. Swift's

All

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