'Yet stay, fair Lady! Rest a while Beneath this cloister wall!

See, through the hawthorn blows the cold wind; And drizzly rain doth fall!'

'O, stay me not, thou holy Friar!

་

O, stay me not, I pray!

No drizzly rain that falls on me,
Can wash my fault away!'

'Yet stay, fair Lady! turn again,
And dry those pearly tears!
For see, beneath this gown of gray,
Thy own True Love appears!

'Here, forced by grief and hopeless love,
These holy weeds I sought;
And here, amid these lonely walls,
To end my days I thought.

'But haply, for my Year of Grace
Is not yet passed away,

Might I still hope to win thy love,

No longer would I stay!'

'Now farewell, Grief! and welcome, Joy,

Once more unto my heart!

For, since I have found thee, lovely Youth!
We never more will part!'

NATURE AND GARRICK.

AS NATURE and GARRICK were talking one day,
It chanced they had words, and fell out!
Dame REASON would fain have prevented a fray;
But could not, they both were so stout!

Says GARRICK, 'I honour you, Madam! 'tis true! And with pride to your laws I submit!

But SHAKESPEARE paints stronger and better than you, All critics of taste will admit!'

'How! SHAKESPEARE paint stronger and better than Cries NATURE, quite touched to the soul, [me!' 'Not a word in his volumes I ever could see, But what from my records he stole !

'And thou, wicked thief! Nay! the story I'll tell! Whenever I paint, or I draw,

My pencils you filch, and my colours you steal!
For which, thou shalt suffer the law!

'And when, on the Stage, in full lustre you shine; To me all the praise shall be given!

The toil shall be yours; and the honour be mine!' So NATURE and GARRICK are even!

TO MR. GARRICK.

FROM MOUNT EDGECUMbe.

LEAVE, GARRICK! the rich landscape proudly gay! Docks, Forts, and Navies bright'ning all the Bay! To my plain roof repair! primeval Seat!

Yet there, no wonders your quick eye can meet,
Save (should you deem it wonderful!) to find
Ambition cured, and an unpassioned mind!
A Statesman without power, and without gall;
Hating no Courtiers! happier than them all!
Bowed to no yoke, nor crouching for applause;
Vot'ry alone to Freedom and the laws!

Herds, flocks, and smiling CERES deck our plain ;
And, interspersed, a heart-enliv'ning Train
Of sportive children frolic o'er the green:
Meantime, pure love looks on and consecrates the scene.
Come, then, immortal Spirit of the Stage!
Great Nature's proxy! Glass of every Age!
Come, taste the simple life of Patriarchs old;
Who, rich in rural peace, ne'er thought of pomp or gold!

1

UPON THE EARL OF CHATHAM'S VERSES TO MR. GARRICK.

WHEN PELEUS' son, untaught to yield, Wrathful, forsook the hostile Field; His breast still warm with heavenly fire, He tuned the Lay and swept the Lyre.

So CHATHAM (whose exalted soul Pervaded and inspired the whole, Where far, by martial glory led, Britain, her sails and banners spread) Retires, though wisdom's God dissuades; And seeks repose in rural shades. Yet thither comes the God confest, Celestial Form, a well-known guest!

Nor slow he moves with solemn Air, Nor on his brow hangs pensive care; Nor in his hand th' historic page Gives lessons to experienced age, As when, in vengeful ire, he rose And planned the fate of Britain's foes; While the winged Hours obedient stand, And instant speed the dread command.

Cheerful he came, all blithe and gay, Fair blooming like the Son of May! Adown his radiant shoulder hung A Harp, by all the Muses strung; Smiling, he to his friend resigned This soother of the human mind!

YE fair married Dames! who so often deplore
That a Lover once blessed, is a Lover no more;
Attend to my counsel! nor blush to be taught,
That Prudence must cherish what Beauty has caught!

Use the man that you wed, like your fav'rite guitar!
Though music in both; they are both apt to jar!
How tuneful and soft, from a delicate touch!
Not handled too roughly, nor played on too much.

The linnet and sparrow will feed from your hand,
Grow fond by your kindness, and come at command;
Exert, with your Husband, the same happy skill!
For hearts, like your birds, may be tamed to your will!

Be gay and good-humoured, complying and kind! Turn the chief of your care from your face to your mind!

'Tis there, that the Wife may her conquest improve; And HYMEN will rivet the fetters of Love!

ONCE more, I tune the vocal shell!
To hills and dales my Passion tell!
A flame which time can never quell;
But burns for lovely PEGGY!
Yet greater Bards the lyre should hit!
For say, What subject is more fit
Than to record the sparkling wit
And bloom of lovely PEGGY?...