He held them up, and in his turn
Thus show'd his ready wit,
My heid is twice as big as yours,
They therefore needs must fit.

But let me scrape the dirt away,
That hangs upon your face;
And stop and eat, for well you may
Be in a hungry case.

Said John, It is my wedding-day,
And all the world would stare,
If wife should dine at Edmonton,
And I should dine at Ware.

So turning to his horse, he said,
I am in haste to dine;

'Twas for your pleasure you came here, You shall go back for mine.

Ah luckless speech, and bootless boast!
For which he paid full dear;
For, while he spake, a braying ass
Did sing most loud and clear;

Whereat his horse did snort, as he
Had heard a lion roar,

And gallop'd off with all his might,
As he had done before.

Away went Gilpin, and away

Went Gilpin's hat and wig:
He lost them sooner than at first,
For why?-they were too big.

Now mistress Gilpin, when she saw
Her husband posting down

Into the country far away,

She pull'd out half a crown;

And thus unto the youth she said

That drove them to the Bell,

This shall be yours, when you bring back

My husband safe and well.

The youth did ride, and soon did meet

John coming back amain;

Whom in a trice he tried to stop,

By catching at his rein;

But not performing what he meant,
And gladly would have done,
The frighted steed he frighted more,
And made him faster run.

Away went Gilpin, and away

Went postboy at his heels,

The postboy's horse right glad to miss
The lumb'ring of the wheels.

Six gentlemen upon the road,
Thus seeing Gilpin fly,

With postboy scamp'ring in the rear,
They rais'd the hue and cry:—

Stop thief! stop thief!-a highwayman!
Not one of them was mute;

And all and each that pass'd that way
Did join in the pursuit.

And now the turnpike-gates again
Flew open in short space;
The toll-men thinking as before,
That Gilpin rode a race.

And so he did, and won it too,
For he got first to town;

Nor stopp'd till where he had got up,

He did again get down.

Now let us sing, long live the king,

And Gilpin, long live he:

And, when he next doth ride abroad,
May I be there to see!

AN EPISTLE

ΤΟ

AN AFFLICTED PROTESTANT LADY IN FRANCE.

MADAM,

A stranger's purpose in these lays
Is to congratulate, and not to praise.
To give the creature the Creator's due
Were sin in me, and an offence to you.

From man to man, or e'en to woman paid,
Praise is the medium of a knavish trade,
A coin by craft for folly's use design'd,
Spurious, and only current with the blind.

The path of sorrow, and that path alone,
Leads to the land where sorrow is unknown;
No trav'ller ever reach'd that bless'd abode,
Who found not thorns and briers in his road.
The World may dance along the flow'ry plain,
Cheer'd as they go by many a sprightly strain,
Where Nature has her mossy velvet spread,
With unshod feet they yet securely tread,
Admonish'd, scorn the caution and the friend,
Bent all on pleasure, heedless of its end.

But he, who knew what human hearts would prove
How slow to learn the dictates of his love,
That, hard by nature and of stubborn will,
A life of ease would make them harder still,
In pity to the souls his grace design'd
To rescue from the ruins of mankind,
Call'd for a cloud to darken all their years,
And said, 'Go, spend them in the vale of tears.
O balmy gales of soul-reviving air!

O salutary streams, that murmur there!
These flowing from the fount of grace above,
Those breath'd from lips of everlasting love.
The flinty soil indeed the feet annoys;
Chill blasts of trouble nip their springing joys;
An envious world will interpose its frown,
To mar delights superior to its own;
And many a pang, experienc'd still within,
Reminds them of their hated inmate, Sin:
But ills of ev'ry shape and ev'ry name,
Transform'd to blessings, miss their cruel aim;
And ev'ry moment's calm that soothes the breast,
Is giv'n in earnest of eternal rest.

Ah, be not sad, although thy lot be cast
Far from the flock, and in a boundless waste!
No shepherd's tents within thy view appear,
But the chief Shepherd even there is near;
Thy tender sorrows and thy plaintive strain,
Flow in a foreign land, but not in vain ;
Thy tears all issue from a source divine,
And ev'ry drop bespeaks a Saviour thine-
So once in Gideon's fleece the dews were found,
And drought on all the drooping herbs around.

TO THE

REV. W. CAWTHORNE UNWIN.

Unwin, I should but ill repay
The kindness of a friend,

Whose worth deserves as warm a lay,

As ever friendship penn'd,

Thy name omitted in a page,

That would reclaim a vicious age.

A union form'd, as mine with thee,
Not rashly, or in sport,

May be as fervent in degree, .
And faithful in its sort,

And may as rich in comfort prove,

As that of true fraternal love.

The bud inserted in the rind,
The bud of peach or rose,
Adorns, though diff'ring in its kind,
The stock whereon it grows,
With flow'r as sweet, or fruit as fair,
As if produc'd by Nature there.

Not rich, I render what I may,
I seize thy name in haste,
And place it in this first essay,

Lest this should prove the last.
'Tis where it should be-in a plan,
That holds in view the good of man.

The poet's lyre, to fix his fame,
Should be the poet's heart;
Affection lights a brighter flame
Than ever blaz'd by art.
No muses on these lines attend,
I sink the poet in the friend.

THE TASK.

BOOK I.

THE SOFA.

ARGUMENT OF THE FIRST BOOK.

Historical deduction of seats, from the stool to the Sofa.--A Schoolboy's ramble.-A walk in the country.-The scene described.-Rural sounds as well as sights delightful.-Another walk.-Mistake concerning the charms of solitude corrected.-Colonnades commended.~Alcove, and the view from it.—The wilderness.-The grove.-The thresher.-The necessity and the benefits of exercise.-The works of nature superior to, and in some instances inimitable by, art.-The wearisomeness of what is commonly called a life of pleasure.-Change of scene sometimes expedient.--A common described, and the character of crazy Kate introduced. -Gipsies.-The blessings of civilized life. That state most favorable to virtue.-The South Sea islanders compassionated, but chiefly Omai. -His present state of mind supposed.--Civilized life friendly to virtue, but not great cities.-Great cities, and London in particular, allowed their due praises, but censured.-Fête champêtre.-The book concludes with a reflection on the total effects of dissipation and effeminacy upon our public measures.

I sing the Sofa. I, who lately sang

Truth, Hope, and Charity,* and touch'd with awe
The solemn chords, and with a trembling hand,
Escap'd with pain from that advent'rous flight,
Now seek repose upon an humbler theme;
The theme though humble, yet august and
Th'occasion-for the Fair commands the song

Time was, when clothing sumptuous or for use
Save their own painted skins, our sires had none.
As yet black breeches were not; satin smooth,
Or velvet soft, or plush with shaggy pile :
The hardy chief upon the rugged rock
Wash'd by the sea, or on the grav❜lly bank
Thrown up by wintry torrents roaring loud,
Fearless of wrong, repos'd his wearied strength.
Those barb'rous ages past, succeeded next
The birth-day of Invention; weak at first,
Dull in design, and clumsy to perform.

See Poems, pages 38, 74, 94.

R