Elegant Extracts: Or, Useful and Entertaining Pieces of Poetry

Which much you will mend, if
Both spinach and endive,
And lettuce, and beet,
With marygold meet.
Put no water at all,

For it maketh things small;
: Which lest it should happen,
A close cover clap on.
Put this pot of 'Wood's metal
In a hot boiling kettle,
And there let it be

(Mark the doctrine I teach)
About-let me see-

Thrice as long as you preach.t
So skimming the fat off,
Say grace with your hat off.
O, then, with what rapture
Will it fill dean and chapter!

SPRING. An Ode. Dr. JOHNSON.
STERN Winter now, by Spring repress'd,
Forbears the long continued strife;
And Nature, on her naked breast
Delights to catch the gales of life.
Now o'er the rural kingdom roves
Soft Pleasure with her laughing train;
ove warbles in the vocal groves,
And vegetation plants the plain.

nhappy whom to beds of pain
Arthritic tyranny consigns!
Thom smiling nature courts in vain,
Tho' rapture sings, and beauty shines!

et tho' my limbs disease invades,
Her wings imagination tries,
nd bears me to the peaceful shades
Where
humble turrets rise.
ere stop, my soul, thy rapid flight,
Nor from the pleasing groves depart,
here first great nature charm'd my sight,
Where wisdom first inform'd my heart,
ere let me thro' the vales pursue
A guide a father and a friend;
ace more great nature's works review,
Once more on wisdom's voice attend.
om/false caresses, causeless strife,
Wild hope, vain fear, alike remor'd
're let me learn the use of life,
When best enjoy'd, when most improv'd.
ach me, thou venerable bow'r,'
Cool meditation's quiet seat,
ie generous scorn of venal powI,
The silent grandeur of retreat..

hen pride by guilt to greatness climbs,
Or raging factions rush to war, v
re let me learn to shun the crimes
I can't prevent, and will not share.

But lest I fall by subtler foes,

Bright wisdom, teach me Curio's art
The swelling passions to compose,
And quell the rebels of the heart.

The MIDSUMMER'S WISH. An Ode.
Dr. JOHNSON.
PHBUS! down the western sky
Far hence diffuse thy burning ray;
Thy light to distant worlds supply,
And wake them to the cares of day.
Come, gentle eve, the friend of ease!
Come, Cynthia, lovely queen of night!
Refresh me with a cooling breeze,

And cheer me with a lambent light
Lay me where o'er the verdant ground
Her living carpet nature spreads;
Where the green bow'r, with roses crown'd,
In show'rs its fragrant foliage sheds.
Improve the peaceful hour with wine,
Let music die along the grove;
Around the bowl let myrtles twine,

And every strain be tun'd to love.
Come, Stella, queen of all my heart!
Come, born to fill its vast desires!
Thy looks perpetual joys impart,

Thy voice perpetual love inspires.
Whilst, all my wish and thine complete,
By turns we languish and we burn,
Let sighing gales our sighs repeat,

Our murmurs-murmuring brooks return."

Let me, when nature calls to rest,
And blushing skies the morn foretel,
Sink ou the down of Stella's breast,
And bid the waking world farewel

AUTUMN." An Ode."
A Dr. JOHNSON.
ALAS! with swift and silent pace

Impatient time rolls on the year;
The seasons change, and nature's face
Now sweetly smiles, now frowns severe,
Twas Spring, 'twas Summer, all was gay,
Now Autumn bends a cloudy brow;
The flow'ts of Spring are swept away,
And Summer fruits desert the bough.
The verdant leaves that play'd on high,
And wanton'd on the western breeze,
Now trod in dust neglected lie,

As Boreas strips the bending trees.
The fields that way'd with golden grain,
As russet beaths are wild and bare,
Not meist with dew, but drench'd in rain
Nor health nor pleasure wanders there.

Of this composition, see the Works of the Copper-farthing Dean.
The author being ill of the gout."

Which we suppose to be near four hours.

No more, while thro' the midnight shade
Beneath the moon's pale orb I stray,
Soft pleasing woes my heart invade,
As Progne pours the melting lay.
From this capricious clime she soars,
O would some god but wings supply!
To where each morn the Spring restores,
Companion of her flight I'd fly.

Vain wish! me fate compels to bear
The downward seasons iron reign,
Compels to breathe polluted air,
And shiver on a blasted plain.
What bliss to life can Autumn yield,
If glooms, and show'rs, and storms prevail;
And Ceres flies the naked field,

And flow'rs, and fruits, and Phoebus fail? O! what remains, what lingers yet,

To cheer me in the darkening hour?
The grape remains, the friend of wit,

In love and mirth of mighty pow'r.
Haste, press the clusters, fill the bowl;
Apollo, shoot thy parting ray:
This gives the sunshine of the soul,

This god of health, and verse, and day. "Still, still the jocund strain shall flow,

The pulse with vigorous rapture beat; My Stella with new charms shall glow, And every bliss in wine shall meet,

more the morn, with tepid rays,

Noon spreads no more the genial blaze,
Nor gentle eve distils the dew.
The lingering hours prolong the night;
Usurping darkness shares the day,
Her mists restrain the force of light;

And Phoebus holds a doubtful sway. By gloomy twilight half reveal'd,

With sighs we view the hoary hill, The leafless wood, the naked field,

The snow-topt cot, the frozen rill. No music warbles thro' the grove,

No vivid colours paint the plain; No more with devious steps I

rove

Thro' verdant paths now sought in vain. Aloud the driving tempest roars,

Congeal'd, impetuous show'rs descend;
Haste, close the window, bar the doors,
Fate leaves me Stella, and a friend.
In nature's aid let art supply

With light and heat my little sphere;
Rouse, rouse the fire, and pile it high;
Light up a constellation here.
Let music sound the voice of joy,

Or mirth repeat the jocund tale;
Let love his wanton wiles employ,
And o'er the season wine prevail.

An EVENING ODE. To Stella.
Dr. JOHNSON,

EVENING now from purple wings

Sheds the grateful gifts she brings; Brilliant drops bedeck the mead, Cooling breezes shake the reed; Shake the reed, and curl the stream Silver'd o'er with Cynthia's beam; Near the chequer'd lonely grove Hears and keeps thy secrets, love. Stella, thither let us stray, Lightly o'er the dewy way. Phoebus drives his burning car Hence, my lovely Stella, far; In his stead, the queen of night Round us pours a lambent light; Light that seems but just to shew Breasts that beat, and checks that glow. Let us now, in whisper'd joy, Evening's silent hours employ; Silence best, and conscious shades, Please the hearts that love invades ; Other pleasures give them pain, Lovers all but love disdain."

The NATURAL BEAUTY. To S Dr. JOH

WHETHER Stella's eyes are found

Fix'd on earth or glancing round,
If her face with pleasure glow,
If she sigh at others' woe,
If her easy air express

Conscious worth or soft distress,
Stella's eyes, and air, and face,
Charm with undiminish'd grace.
If on her we see display'd
Pendant gems, and rich brocade;
If her chintz with less expence
Flows in easy negligence;
Still she lights the conscious flame,
Still her charms appear the same:
If she strikes the vocal strings,
If she's silent, speaks, or sings,
If she sit, or if she more,
Still we love, and still approve.

Vain the casual, transient glance,
Which alone can please by chance,
Beauty which depends on art,
Changing with the changing heart,
Which demands the toilet's aid,
Pendant gems and rich brocade.
I those charms alone can prize
Which front constant nature rise,
Which nor circumstance nor dress
Eer can make or more or less.

Dr. JOHNSON.

The Vanity of Wealth. No more, thus brooding o'er yon heap, With Avarice painful vigils keep; Still unenjoy'd the present store, Still endless sighs are breath'd for more. O quit the shadow, catch the prize, Which not all India's treasure buys! To purchase heaven has gold the pow'r? Can gold remove the mortal hour? In life can love be bought with gold? Are friendship's pleasures to be sold? No-all that's worth a wish, a thought, Fair virtue gives unbrib'd, unbought. Cease then on trash thy hopes to bind, Let nobler views engage thy mind. With science tread the wondrous way, Or learn the Muses' moral lay; In social hours indulge thy soul, Where mirth and temperance mix the bowl; To virtuous love resign thy breast, And be, by blessing beauty, blest.

Thus taste the feast by nature spread, Ere youth and all its joys are fled; Come taste with me the balm of life, Secure from pomp, and wealth, and strife. boast whate'er for man was meant, health, and Stella, and content; And scorn (O let that scorn be thine!) Mere things of clay that dig the mine.

o Miss

on her giving the Author a Gold and Silk Net-work Purse of her own wearing. Dr. JOHNSON. PHOUGH gold and silk their charms unite To make they curious web delight, I vain the varied work would shine wrought by any hand but thine; hy hand, that knows the subtler art weave those nets that catch the heart. Spread out by me, the roving coin hy nets may catch, but not confine; or can I hope thy silken chain -he glittering vagrants shall restrain. Thy, Stella, was it then decreed,

he heart once caught should ne'er be freed?

Po Lyce, an elderly Lady. Dr. JOHNSON. TE Nymphs whom starry rays invest,

By Hattering poets given,
Tho shine by lavish lovers drest
In all the pomp of heaven!
agross not all the beams on high
Which gild alover's lays;
at, as your sister of the sky,
Let Lyce share the praise.
er silver locks display the moon,
Her brows a cloud do show:
rip'd rainbows round her eyes are seen,
And show'rs from either flow.

er teeth the night with darkness dyes,
She's starr'd with pimples o'er;
er tongue like nimble lightning plies,
And can with thunder roar.

But some Zelinda, while I sing,
Denies my Lyce shines:
And all the pens of Cupid's wing
Attack my gentle lines.

Yet spite of fair Zelinda's eye,
And all her bards express,
My Lyce makes as good a sky,
And I but flatter less.

Epitaph on Sir Thomas Hanmer. Dr. JOHNSON. HOU who survey'st these walls with curious

THOU

cye, Pause at itis tomb where HANMER's ashes lie: His various worth through varied life attend, And learn his virtues while thou mourn'st his end.

His force of genius burn'd in early youth With thirst of knowledge and with love of truth;

His learning, join'd with each endearing art, Charin'd ev'ry ear, and gain'd on ev'ry heart.

Thrus early wise, th' endanger'd realin to aid, His country call'd him from the studious shade: In life's first bloom his public toils began, At once commenc'd the senator and man.

In business dext'rous, weighty in debate, Thrice ten long years he labour'd for the state: In every speech persuasive wisdom flow'd, In every act refulgent virtue glow'd; Suspended faction ceas'd from rage and strife, To hear his eloquence, and praise his life.

Resistless merit fix'd the Senate's choice, Who hail'd him Speaker with united voice. Illustrious age! how bright thy glories shone, When HANMER fill'd the chair, and ANNE the throne!

Then when dark arts obscur'd each fierce
debate,

When mutual frauds perplex'd the maze of state,
The Moderator firmly mild appear'd,
Beheld with love, with veneration heard.

This task perform'd,he sought no gainful post, Nor wish'd to glitter at his country's cost: Strict on the right he fix'd his stedfast eye, With temperate zeal, and wise anxiety;

Nor e'er from Virtue's paths was lur'd aside,
To pluck the flow'rs of pleasure or of pride."
Her gifts despis'd, Corruption blush'd and filed,
And Fame pursued him where Conviction led.
Age call'd at length his active mind to rest,
With honours sated, and with cares opprest:
To letter'd ease retir'd, and honest inirth,
To rural grandeur, and domestic worth:
Delighted still to please mankind, or mend,
The patriot's fire yet sparkled in the friend.

Calm Conscience then his former life sur-
vey'd,

And recollected toils endear'd the shade ; ;
Till Nature call'd him to the general doom,
And Virtue's sorrow dignified his tomb.

SONNETS

pale,

Young Health, a dryad-maid in vesture green, Or like the forest's silver-quiver'd queen, On early uplands met the piercing gale; And, ere its earliest echo shook the vale, Watching the hunter's joyous horn was seen. But since, gay-thron'd in fiery chariot sheen, Summer has smote each daisy-dappled dale; She to the cave retires, high-arch'd beneath

The fount that laves proud Isis' tow'red brim: And now all glad the temperate air to breathe, While cooling drops distil from arches dim, Binding her dewy locks with sedgy wreath, She sits amid the quire of Naiads trim.

Written at Stonehenge..

HOU noblest monument of Albion's isle, Whether by Merlin's aid, from Seythe shore

To Amber's fatal plain Pendragon bore, Huge frame of giant hands, the mighty ple T'entomb his Britons slain by Hengist's guil Or Druid priests, sprinkled with human Taught 'mid thy massy maze their as lore:

Or Danish chiefs, enrich'd with savage sp

To victory's idol vast, an unhewn shrine, Rear'd the rude heap; or, in thy hall

Repose the kings of Brutus' genuine line: round,

Or here those kings in solemn state

crown'd:*

Studious to trace thy wondrous origia, We muse on many an ancient tale reno“.

Decks with a magic hand the dazzlingbor Its living hues where the warm pencil pet And breathing forms from the rude marble How to life's humbler scene can I depor

My breast all glowing from those go tow'rs,

In my low cell how cheat the sullen b Vain the complaint: for Fancy can impr (To Fate superior, and to Fortune's door

Whate'er adorns the stately storied h She, 'mid the dungeon's solitary gloom,

Can dress the Graces in their Attic p Bid the green landscape's vernal beauty b And in bright trophies clothe the t wall.

My rustic Muse her votive chaplet be Unseen, unheard, O Gray, to threshe

Written in a Blank Leaf of Dugdale's Mo- While slowly pacing through the chare

nasticon.

dew,

At curfew-time, beneath the dark gree Thy pensive genius strikes the morals Hears Cambria's bards devote the dreadi Or, borne sublime on Inspiration's Of Edward's race, with murthers foul s

No, bard divine! For many a care be Can ought my pipe to reach thine er For many a raptur'd thought, and is By the sweet magic of thy soothing To thee this strain of gratitude 1 par

Sonnet. WHILE Summer-suns o'er the gay play'd, [som Through Surry's verdant scenes,

One of the bardish traditions about Stonehenge,

'Mid intermingling elms, her flow'ry meads; Talking he lov'd, and ne'er was more afflicted And Hascombe's hill, in tow'ring groves array'd, Than when he was disturb'd or contradicted; Rear'd its romantic steep with mind serene Yet still into his story she would break Ijourney'd blythe. Full pensive I return'd: With-"Tis not so; pray give me leave to For now my breast with hopeless passion

burn'd;

"speak.

His friends thought this was a tyrannic rule,
Not diff'ring much from calling of him fool!
Told him he must exert himself, and be
In fact the master of his family.
He said, That the next Tuesday-noon
"would show

Wet with hoar mists appear'd the gaudy scene
Which late in careless indolence I pass'd;
And Autumn all around those hues had cast
Where past delight my recent grief might trace.
Sad change! that Nature a congenial gloom
Should wear, when most, my cheerless mood to" Whether he were the lord at home or na;
chase,
"When their good company he would entreat
I wish'd her green attire, and wonted bloom!" To well-brew'd ale, and clean, if homely

In King Arthur's Round Tuble at Winchester.
WHERE Venta's Norman castle still uprears
Its rafter'd hall, that o'er the grassy foss
And scatter'd flinty fragments, clad in moss,
n yonder steep in naked state appears:
igh-hung remains, the pride of warlike years,
Öld Arthur's Board: on the capacious round
Some British pen has sketch'd the names
renown'd,

marks obscure, of his immortal peers.
to' join'd by magic skill, with many a rhyme,
The Druid frame unhonour'd falls a prey
the slow vengeance of the wizard Time,
And fade the British characters away;
t Spenser's page, that chants in verse sublime
Those chiefs, shall live unconscious of decay.

To the River Lodon.

R! what a weary race my feet have run,
Since first I trod thy banks with alders
crown'd,
[ground,
And thought my way was all through fairy
eath thy azure sky, and golden sun:
tere first my muse to lisp her notes begun!
While pensive memory traces back the round
ich fills the varied interval between,

eh pleasure, more of sorrow, marks the scene.
weet native stream! those skies and suns so
pure

"meat."

[merged small][ocr errors][merged small]

taught

To entertain his friends with finding fault,
And make the main ingredient of his treat
His saying- There was nothing fit to eat:
The boil'd Pork stinks, the roast Beef's not
"enough,

The Bacon's rusty, and the Hens are tough.
The Veal's all rags, the Butter's turn'd to oil;
"And thus I buy good meat for sluts to spoil.
"Tis we are the first Slouches ever sat
"Down to a Pudding without Plums or Fat.
"What Teeth or Stomach's strong enough to
"feed

"Upon a Goose my Grannum kept to breed? "Why must old Pigeons, and they stale, be drest,

more return, to cheer my evening road! Fet still one joy remains, that not obscure useless all my vacant days have flow'd, 'rom youth's gay dawn to manhood's prime"

mature;

with the Muse's laurel unbestow'd.

"When there's so many squab ones in the nest ? This Beer is sour; 'tis musty, thick, and

"stale,

"And worse than any thing, except the Ale.",
She all this while many excuses made,
Some things she own'd; at other times she laid
The fault on chance, but off'ner on the maid,
Then Cheese was brought. Says Slouch→→→
"This e'en shall roll;

The Old Cheese. KING. UNG Slouch the farmer had a jolly wife, That knew all the conveniences of life, ose diligence and cleanliness supplied wit which Nature had to him denied: then she had a tongue that would be heard, I make a better man than Slouch afeard, s made censorious persons of the town Slouch could hardly call his soul his own;" , if he went abroad joo much, she'd use give him slippers, and lock up his shoes.

I'm sure 'tis hard enough to make a Bowl: "This is'skim-milk, and therefore it shall go; And this, because 'tis Suffolk, follow too." But now Sue's patience did begin to waste; Nor longer could dissimulation last.

Pray let me rise," says Sue, " my dear';''Pll "find

"A Cheese perhaps may be to lovy's mind."

Theo

« Previous Continue »

Books