Thus, while grey evening lull'd the wind, and

call'd

Fresh odours from the shrubb'ry at my side,
Taking my lonely winding walk, I mus'd,
And held accustom'd conference with my heart;
When from within it, thus a voice replied.

"Couldst thou in truth? and art thou taught at length

"This wisdom, and but this, from all the past? "Is not the pardon of thy long arrear,

"Time wasted, violated laws, abuse

"Of talents, judgments, mercies, better far “Than opportunity vouchsaf'd to err

"With less excuse, and haply, worse effect?"

I heard, and acquiesc'd: then to and fro
Oft pacing, as the mariner his deck,
My grav❜lly bounds, from self to human kind
I pass'd, and next consider'd-what is man?

Knows he his origin? can he ascend
By reminiscence to his earliest date?
Slept he in Adam? and in those from him
Through num'rous generations, till he found
At length his destin'd moment to be born?
Or was he not, till fashion'd in the womb?

Deep myst'ries both! which schoolmen must have

toil'd

To unriddle, and have left them mysť'ries still.

It is an evil incident to man,

And of the worst, that unexplor'd he leaves
Truths useful and attainable with ease,

To search forbidden deeps, where myst❜ry lies
Not to be solv'd, and useless, if it might.
Myst'ries are food for angels; they digest
With ease, and find them nutriment; but man,
While yet he dwells below, must stoop to glean
His manna from the ground, or starve, and die.

THE

JUDGMENT OF THE POETS.

[MAY 1791.]

Two nymphs, both nearly of an age,
Of num'rous charms possess'd,
A warm dispute once chanc'd to wage,
Whose temper was the best.

The worth of each had been complete, Had both alike been mild:

But one, although her smile was sweet, Frown'd oft'ner than she smiled.

And in her humour, when she frown'd, Would raise her voice and roar,

And shake with fury to the ground

The garland that she wore.

The other was of gentler cast,

From all such frenzy clear,

Her frowns were seldom known to last,
And never proved severe.

To poets of renown in song

The nymphs referr'd the cause, Who, strange to tell, all judged it wrong, And gave misplaced applause.

They gentle call'd, and kind and soft,
The flippant and the scold,

And though she changed her mood so oft,
That failing left untold,

No judges, sure, were e'er so mad,

Or so resolv'd to err

In short, the charms her sister had

They lavish'd all on her.

Then thus the God whom fondly they

Their great Inspirer call,

Was heard, one genial summer's day,

To reprimand them all.

"Since thus ye have combined," he said,

66

66

My fav'rite nymph to slight,

Adorning May, that peevish maid,

"With June's undoubted right,

"The Minx shall, for your folly's sake,

"Still

prove herself a shrew,

"Shall make your scribbling fingers ache,

"And pinch your noses blue."