Now Mistress Gilpin, careful soul! His long red cloak, well brush'd and neat, Now see him mounted once again grasp'd the mane with both his hands, And eke with all his might. s horse, who newer in that sort vay went Gilpin, neck or nought, wind did blow, the cloak did fly, en might all people well discern e dogs did bark, the children scream'd, Up flew the windows all : id ev'ry soul cried out, Well done! The bottles twain behind his back Down ran the wine into the road, Most piteous to be seen, Which made his horse's flanks to smoke But still he seem'd to carry weight, And there he threw the wash about Her tender husband, wond'ring much Stop, stop, John Gilpin! here's the house→→ The dinner waits, and we are tir'd: But yet his horse was not a whit For why? his owner had a house Shot by an archer strong; Away went Gilpin, out of breath, His horse at last stood still. The callender, amaz'd to see His neighbour in such trim, What news! what news! your tidings tell, Tell me you must and shall Say why bare-headed you are come, Now Gilpin had a pleasant wit, I came because your horse would come, My hat and wig will soon be here, When straight he came with hat and wig, A hat not much the worse for wear, He held them up, and in his turn That hangs upon your face; Said John, It is my wedding day; And all the world would stare, So turning to his horse, he said, And thus unto the youth she said The youth did ride, and soon did meet But not performing what he meant, Away went Gilpin, and away And so he did, and won it too, $169. An Evening Contemplation in a Coll in Imitation of Gray's Elegy in a Country Church-yard. DUNCOM HE curfew tolls the hour of closing gates, With jarring sound the porter turns theses. Then in his dreary mansion slumb'ring waits, THE And slowly, sternly, quits it though for u Now shine the spires beneath the paly moon, And thro' the cloisters peace and silence reiz Save where some fidler scrapes a drowsy tune, Or copious bowls inspire a jovial strain; Save that in yonder cobweb-mantled room, Where sleeps a student in profound repos Oppress'd with ale, wide echoes thro' the g The droning music of his vocal nose. Within those walls, where through the g mering shade Appear the pamphlets in a mouldering haz Each in his narrow bed till morning laid, The peaceful fellows of the college sleep. The tinkling bell proclaiming early pray's, The noisy servants rattling o'er their be The calls of business, and domestic cares, Ne'er rouse these sleepers from their do No chattering females crowd their social fr No dread have they of discord and of s Unknown the names of husband and of sa Unfelt the plagues of matrimonial life. Oft have they bask'd beneath the sunny Oft have the benches bow'd beneath a weight, How jocund are their looks when dinner c How smoke the cutlets on their crowded O! let not temperance, too disdainful, ber How long their feasts, how long their die last: Haply some friend may shake his hoary head And say, “ Each morn unchill'd by frosts he ran, "With hose ungarter'd, o'er von turfy bed, "To reach the chapel ere the psalms began ; There, in the arms of that lethargie chair, "Which rears its old moth-eaten back so high, “At noon he quafi'd three glasses to the fair, "And por'd upon the news with curious eye. "Now by the fire engag'd in serious talk, "Or mirthful converse, would he loitering "stand, "Then in the garden chose a sunny walk, "Or launch'd the polish'd bowl with steady hand. "One morn we miss'd him at the hour of prayer, Nor in the hall, nor on his favourite green: "Another came, nor yet within the chair, Nor yet at bowls or chapel was he seen. Some Pelham, dreadful to his country's foes." From prince and people to command applause, 'Midst ermin'd peers to guide the high debate, To shield Britannia's and Religion's laws, fines; Forbids in Freedom's veil t'insult the throne; Beneath her mask to hide the worst designs ; To fill the madding crowd's perverted mind With "pensions, taxes, marriages, and Jews;" Or shut the gates of heaven on lost mankind, And wrest their darling hopes, their future views. far from the giddy town's tumultuous strife, Their wishes yet have never learn'd to stray; Content and happy in a single life, They keep the noiseless tenor of their way. y'n now their books from cobwebs to protect, Inclos'd by doors of glass in Doric style, On polish'd pillars rais'd with bronzes deck'd, They claim the passing tribute of a smile: Oft are the authors' names, tho' richly bound, Mis-spelt by blundering binders' want of care; And many a catalogue is strew'd around, To tell the admiring guest what books are there. 64 The next we heard that in a neighbouring 66 shire, "That day to church he led a blushing bride, A nymph whose snowy vest and maiden fear "Improv'd her beauty while the knot was tied. Now, by his patron's bounteous care remov'd, He roves enraptur'd thro' the fields of Kent; Yet, ever mindful of the place he lov'd, "Read here the letter which he lately sent." IN rural innocence secure I dwell, The Letter. Alike to fortune and to fame unknown: Approving conscience cheers my humble cell, And social quiet marks me for her own. Next to the blessings of religious truth, Two gifts my endless gratitude engageA wife, the joy and transport of my youth: Now with a son, the comfort of my age. Seck not to draw me from this kind retreat, In lottier spheres unit, untaught to move; Content with calm domestic life, where meet The sweets of friendship, and the smiles of love. $170. The Three Warnings. A Tale. THE tree of deepest root is found Least willing still to quit the ground; This great affection to believe, When sports went round, and all were gay, And looking grave- You must,' says he, Quit your sweet bride, and come with me." With you? and quit my Susan's side? ، With you ? the hapless husband cried : ، Young as I am, 'tis monstrous hard ! Besides, in truth, I'm not prepar'd: My thoughts on other matters go; This is my wedding night, you know.' What more he urg'd I have not heard, His reasons could not well be stronger; So Death the poor delinquent spar'd, And left to live a little longer. Yet calling up a serious look, His hour-glass trembled while he spokeNeighbour,' he said, farewell: no more Shall Death disturb your mirthful hour: • And farther, to avoid all blame Of cruelty upon my name, ، To give you time for preparation, " In hopes you'll have no more to say, • But when I call again this way, Well pleas'd the world, will leave.' To these conditions both consented, And parted perfectly contented. What next the hero of our tale befel, Nor thought of death as near; He pass'd his hours in peace: Brought on his eightieth year. And now, one night, in musing mood, ، So soon return'd !' old Dobsou cries. ( Tis six-and-thirty-years at least, And you are now fourscore.' So much the worse,' the clown rejoin'd; To spare the aged would be kind; However, see your search be legal; • And your authority---is 't regal ? Else you are come on a fool's errand, • With but a secretary's warrant. ، Besides, you promis'd me titree warnings, • Which I have look'd for nights and mornings ! ، But for that loss of time and ease, I can recover damages.' 'I know,' cries Death, that, at the best, ، I seldom am a welcome guest ; . But don't be captions, friend, at least : I little thought you'd still be able To stump about your farm and stable; Your years have run to a great length; ، I wish you joy, tho', of your strength!* Hold,' says the farmer, not so fast! I have been lame these four years past.'" ، And no great wonder,' Death replies : However, you still keep your eyes; ، And sure to see one's loves and friends, For legs and arms would make amends. Perhaps,' says Dobson, so it might, ، But latterly I've lost my sight. ، This is a shocking story, faith; Yet there's some comfort still,' says Death Each strives your sadness to amuse; I warrant you hear all the news.' There's none,' cries he; and if there we 'I'm grown so deaf, I could not hear.' Nay, then!' the spectre stern rejoin'd, ، These are unjustifiable yearnings; If you are lame, and deaf, and blind, ، You have had your three sufficient warning ، So come along, no more we'll part : He said, and touch'd him with his dart; And now old Dobson turning pale, Yields to his fate-so ends my tale. § 171. The Cit's Country Bor. LLOYD Vos sapere, et solos aio bene vivere, quorum Conspicitur nitidis fundata pecunia villis. Hes THE wealthy cit, grown old in trade, Now wishes for the rural shade, And buckles to his one-horse chair Old Dobbin, or the founder'd mare; While wedg'd in closely by his side, Sits Madam, his unwieldy bride, With Jacky on a stool before 'em, And out they jog in due decorum. Scarce past the turnpike half a mile, ، How all the country seems to smile !' And as they slowly jog together, The cit commends the road and weather: While Madam doats upon the trees, And longs for ev'ry house she sees; Admires its views, its situation, And thus she opens her oration: What signifies the loads of wealth, Without that richest jewel, health? Excuse the fondness of a wife, ، Who doats upon your precious life ! ، Indeed, my dear, you break apace; Sir Traffic's name, so well applied, Awak'd his brother-merchant's pride; And Thrifty, who had all his life Paid utmost def'rence to his wife, Confess'd her arguments had reason; And by th'approaching summer season Draws a few hundreds from the stocks, And purchases his country box. Some three or four miles out of town And then so snug, so mighty pretty, Well then, suppose them fix'd at last, White washing, painting, scrubbing past: Hugging themselves in ease and clover, With all the fuss of moving over; Lo, a new heap of whims are bred, And wanton in my lady's head! Well! to be sure, it must be own'd, It is a charming spot of ground: So sweet a distance for a ride, 'And all about so countryfied; Twould come but to a trifling price To make it quite a paradise! 'I cannot bear those nasty rails, Those ugly, broken, mouldy pales: Suppose, my dear, instead of these, We build a railing all Chinese;. Altho' one hates to be expos'd, Tis dismal to be thus inclos'd; 'One hardly any objects seesI wish you'd fell those odious trees. Objects continually passing by, Were something to amuse the eye; · But to be pent within the walls, One might as well be at St. Paul's. Our house beholders would adore, 'Was there a level lawn before, 'Nothing its views to incommode, But quite laid open to the road; While every traveller in amaze, Should on our little mansion gaze; And, pointing to the choice retreat, Cry, That's Sir Thrifty's country-seat !" No doubt her arguments prevail, For Madam's TASTE can never fail. Blest age! when all men inay procure The title of a connoisseur; When noble and ignoble herd Are govern'd by a single word; Tho, like the royal German dames, It bears an hundred Christian names— As Genius, Fancy, Judgment, Gout, Whim, Caprice, Je ne scais quoi, Virtô. Which appellations all describe TASTE, and the modern tasteful tribe. Now bricklayers, carpenters, and joiners, With Chinese artists and designers, Produce their schemes of alteration, A ditch of water, four feet wide, The villa thus completely grac'd, $172. Report of an adjudged Case, not to be found in any of the Books. COWPER. BETWEEN Nose and Eyes a strange contest arose; The spectacles set them unhappily wrong; The point in dispute was, as all the world knows, To which the said spectacles ought to belong. So the tongue was the lawyer, and argued the cause |