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Here ended all the phantom-play;
By this the stars began to wink; They smelt the fresh approach of day,
They shriek, they fly, the tapers sink, And heard a cock to crow;
And down ydrops the knight : The whirling wind, that bore the crowd For never spell by fairie laid Has clapp'd the door, and whistled loud, With strong enchantment, bound a glade To warn them all to go.
Beyond the length of night. Then screaming all at once they fly,
Chill, dark, alone, adreed he lay, And all at once the tapers die;
Till up the welkin rose the day, Poor Edwin falls to floor :
Then deem'd the dole was o'er : Forlorn his state, and dark the place,
But wot ye well bis harder lot;
His seely back the bunch had got
Which Edwin lost afore. -
1 This tale a Sybil nurse ared ; Full jolly creature home he goes !
She softly stroak'd my youngling head, He feels his back the less;
And when the tale was done : His honest longue and steady mind
“ Thus some are born, my son," she cries, Had rid him of the lump behind,
“ With base impediments to rise, Which made him want success :
And some are born with none. With lusty livelyhed he talks,
But virtue can itself advance He seems a-dauncing as he walks ;
To what the fav’rite fools of chance His story soon took wind;
By fortune seem'd design'd; And beauteous Edith sees the youth
Virtue can gain the odds of fate,
Upon th' unworthy mind.”
§ 133. Song. Thomson.
For ever, Fortune! wilt thou prove All on the gloomy plain.
An unrelenting foe to love, As there he bides, it so befel,
And when we meet a mutual heart,
Come in between, and bid us part;
Bid us sigh on from day to day,
And wish, and wish the soul away, The fairies bragly foot the floor,
Till youth and genial years are flown, And music fills the hall.
| And all the life of love is gone? But, certes, sorely sunk with woe
But busy, busy, still art thou, Sir Topaz sees the elfin show,
To bind the loveless, joyless vow, His spirits in him die;
The heart from pleasure to delude, When Oberon cries, “ A man is near;
To join the gentle to the rude. A mortal passion, cleped fear,
For once, O Fortune! hear my prayer, Hangs flagging in the sky."
And I absolve thy future care ; With that sir Topaz, hapless youth! ,
All other blessings I resign,
Make but the dear Amanda mine.
Intreats them pity graunt;
§ 134. The Barber's Nuptiak. To tread the circling haunt.
In Liquorpond-street, as is well known to " Ah, losel vile !" at once they roar,
many, “ And little skill'd of fairie lore,
An artist resided, who shav'd for a penny, Thy cause to come we know :
Cut hair for three halfpence, for three-pence Now has thy kestrell courage fell;
he bled, And fairies, since a lye you tell,
And would draw for a groat every tooth in your Are free to work thee woe."
head. Then Will who bears the wispy fire
What annoy'd other folks nerer spoild his To trail the swains among the mire,
repose, The captive upward Aung; There, like a tortoise in a shop,
'Twas the same thing to him whether stocks
fell or rose : He dangled from the chamber-top,
For blast and for mildew he card not a pin ; Where whilom Edwin hung. The revel now proceeds apace,
Hiscrops never fail'd, for they grew on the chin. Deftly they frisk it o'er the place,
Unvex'd by the cares thatambition and state has, They sit, they drink, and eat;
Contented he din'd on his daily potatoes ; The time with frolic mirth beguile,
And the pence that he earn'd by excision of And poor sir Topaz hangs the while,
bristle Till all the rout retreat.
| Were nightly devoted to weiting his whistle.
When complement uporabe
Wache tried to
Book IV. When copper rân low he made light of the But the barber persisted (ah, could I relate 'em) matter,
Platter, | To ply her with compliments soft as pomatum; Drank his purl upon tick at the old Pewter And took ev'ry occasion to flatter and praise her, Read the news, and as deep in the secret appear'd | Till she fancied his wit was as keen as his razor. As if he had lather'd the minister's beard.
He protested besides, if she'd grant his petition, But Cupid, who trims men of every station, She should live like a lady of rank and condition; And 'twixt barbers and beaux makes no discri And to Billingsgate market no longer repair, inination,
But himself all her business would do to a hair. Would not let this superlative shaver alone, Till he tried if his heart was as hard as his hone.
Her smiles, he asserted, would melt even rocks,
Nay, the fire of her eyes would consume bare The fair one whose charms did the barber bers' blocks, inthral,
[stall. | On insensible objects bestow animation,
With fair speeches cajol'd, as you'd tickle a
(hold out: By love strange effects have been wrought, we | Gainst the barber the fish-wife no more could are told,
[cold ; He applied the right bait, and with flattery he In all countries and climates, hot, temp'rate, or
caught her : Thus the heart of our barber love scorch'd like Without fatt'ry a female's a fish out of water.
a coal, Though 'uis very well known he liv’d under the The state of her heart when the barber one pole.
Love's siege with redoubled exertion he pressid, First, he courted his charmer in sorrowfull
| And as briskly bestirr'd him, the charmer émfashion, And lied like a lawyer to move her compassion :
| As the wash-ball that dances and froths in his He should perish, he swore, did his suit not
bason. succeed, And a barber to slay was a barbarous deed. The flame to allay that their bosoms did so Then he alter'd his tone, and was heard to delo
[Holborn, If valor deserv'd the regard of the fair, [clare,
| They set out for the church of St. Andrew in
Where tonsors and trulls, country Dicks and That his courage was tried, though he scorn'd to disclose
their cousins, How many brave fellows he'd took by the nose.
In the halter of wedlock are tied up by dozens. For his politics too, they were thoroughly The nuptials to grace, came from erery quarter
| The worthies at Rag-fair old caxons who barier, known, A patriot he was to the very backbone; Who the coverings of judges' and counsellors' Wilkes he gratis had shav'd for the good of the nation,
Cut down into majors, queues, scratches, and And he held the Wig Club in profound vene
1 bobs : For his tenets religious—he could well expound Muscle-mongers and oyster-men, crimps and Emanuel Swedenborg's myst'ries profound,
coalheavers, And new doctrines could broach with the best | And butchers with marrow-bones smiting their of 'em all;
cleavers : For a periwig-maker ne'er wanted a caul. Shrimp-scalders and bug-killers, tailors and Indignantsheanswer'd: “Nochin-scraping sot
chin-scraping sot Boys, boichers, bawds, bailiffs, and black
, Shall be fasten'd to me by the conjugal knot; -1No! to Tyburn repair, if a uoose you must tie pudding boilers. Other fish I have got, Mr. Tonsor, to fry: From their voices united such melody flow'd, “ Holborn-bridge and Blackfriars my triumphs. As the Abbey ne'er witness'd, nor founham can tell,
[bell ; Court-road; From Billingsgate beauties I've long borne the While St. Andrew's brave bells did so loud and Nay, tripemen and fishmongers vie for my fa- l.
so clear ring, vour:
| You'd have given ten pounds to 've been out Then d'ye think I 'll take up with a two-penny
of their hearing. shaver?
For his fee, when the parson this couple had « Let dory, or turbot the soy'reign of fish,
join'd, Cheek by jowl with red-herring be serv'd in As no cash was forthcoming, he took it in one dish;
(chin, Let stürgeon and sprats in one pickle unite, So the bridegroom dismantled his rey'rences When I angle for husbands, and barbers shall And the bride entertain'd him with pilcharts bite."
$185. William and Margaret. Now birds did sing, and Morning smild,
And show'd her glittering head; WHEN all was wrapt in dark midnight,
Pale William shook in every limb,
Then, raving, left his bed.
He bied him to the fatal place
Where Marg'ret's body lay, Het face was like the April morn
And stretch'd him on the green-grass turf Clad in a wintry cloud;
That wrapt her breathless clay: .
And thrice he callid on Marg'ret's name,
And thrice he wept full sore; So shall the fairest face appear
Then laid his cheek to the cold carth, When youth and years are flown;
And word spoke never more.
When death has reft their crown.
$ 136. Lucy and Colin. That sips the silver dew;
Of Leinster, fam'd for maidens fair, The rose was budded in her cheek,
Bright Lucy was the grace; And opening to the view.
Nor e'er did Liffy's limpid stream But love had, like the canker-worm,
Reflect so fair a face; Consum'd her early prime;
Till luckless love, and pining care, The rose grew pale, and left her cheek;
Impair’d her rosy hue, She died before her time.
Her coral lips and damask cheeks,
And eyes of glossy blue. Awake! she cried, thy true-love calls,
O have you seen a lily pale, Come from her midnight grave;
When beating rains descend ? Now let thy pity hear the maid
So droop'd the slow-consuming maid, Thy love refus d to save :
Her life now near its end. This is the dark and fearful hout
By Lucy warn’d, of Aattering swains
Take heed, ye easy fair; When injur'd ghosts complain :
Of vengeance due to broken vows, Now dreary graves give up their dead,
Ye perjur'd swains, beware. To haunt the faithless swain.
Three times, all in the dead of night, Bethink thee, William, of thy fault,
A bell was heard to ring, Thy pledge and broken oath,
And, shrieking at her window thrice, And give me back my maiden row,
A raven Aapp'd his wing. And give me back my troth.
Too well the love-lorn maiden knew
The soleinn boding sound, How could you say my face was fair,
And thus in dying words bespoke
The virgins weeping round:
I hear a voice you cannot hear,
Which says, I must not stay; How could you promise love to me,
I see a hand you cannot see,
Which beckons me away.
'In early youth I die:
Am I to blame because his bride How could you say my lip was sweet,
is thrice as rich as I ? And made the scarlet pale? And why did I, young, witless inaid,
Ah Colin! give not her thy vows, Believe the flattering tale?
Vows due to me alone;
Nor thou, fond maid, receive his kiss, That face, alas! no more is fair,
Nor think him all thy own. That lip no longer red;
To-morrow in the church to wed, Dark are my eyes, now clos'd in death,
Impatient both prepare;. And every charm is fled.
But know, fond maid, and know, false man, The hungry worm my sister is,
That Lucy will be there! This winding-sheet I wear;
There bear my corpse, ye comrades, bear, And cold and weary lasts Our night
The bridegroom blithe to meet; Till that last mon appear.
He in his wedding-trim so gay,
I in my winding-sheet. But hark! the cock has wara'd me hence: She spoké, she died ! her corse was borat, A long and last adieu!
The bridegroom blithe to meel, Come sec, false man! how low she lies He in his wedding-trim so gay, That died for love of you.
She in her winding-sheet.
Then what were perjur'd Colin's thoughts? / When, fairly run down, the fox yields up his How were those nuptials kept ?
breath, The bridemen flock'd round Lucy, dead, The high-metiled racer is in at the death. And all ihe village wept.
Grown aged, us’d up, and turn'd out of the Compassion, shame, remorse, despair,
some blood; At once his bosom swell; The damps of death bedew'd his brows,
Lame, spavin'd, and wind-galld, but yet with
While knowing postilions his pedigree trace, He shook, he groan'd, he fell.
Tell his dam won this sweepstakes, his sire From the vain bride (ah, bride no more !)
gaind that race; The varying crimson Aed;
And what matches he won to the ostlers count When, stretch'd before her rival's corse, As they loiter their time at some hedge-aleShe saw her husband dead.
house door; He, to his Lucy's new-made grave
While the harness sore galls, and the spurs his Convey'd by trembling swains,
sides goad, One mould with her, beneath one sod, The high-metiled racer's a hack on the road. For ever now remains.
Till, at last, having labord, drudg'd early Oft at this grave the constant hind, And plighted maid are seen ;
Bow'd down by degrees, he bends to his fate; With garlands gay, and true-love knots, Blind, old, lean, and feeble, he tugs round a They deck the sacred green.
[stands still But, swain forsworn! whoe'er thou art, Or draws sand, till the sand of his hour-glass 1 This hallow'd spot forbear;
And now, cold and lifeless, expos'd to the view Remember Colin's dreadful fate,
In the very same cart which he yesterday drew, And fear to meet him there.
While a pitying crowd his sad relics surrounds,
The high-mettled racer is sold for the hourds! $ 137. Song. Dibdin. I saw what seem'd a harmless child, With wings and how
$ 139. Poor Jack. By the same. And aspect mild,
Go patter to lubbers and swabs, d’ye see, Who sobb’d, and sigh’d, and pin'd,
'Bout danger, and fear, and the like; And begg'd I would some boon bestow A tight-water boat and good sea-room gire me, On a poor little boy, stone-blind.
And t'ent to a little l’ll strike : Not aware of the danger, I instant comply'd, Though the tempest top-gallant masts smack When he drew from his quiver a dart,
smooth should smite, And cry'd, “ My power you shall know !" And shiver each splinter of wood; Then he levell’d his bow,
Clear the wreck, stow the yards, and bouse And wounded me right in the heart.
every thing tight, And under reef'd foresail we'll scud. Avast! nor don't think me a milksop so soft
To be taken for trifles aback, $ 138. The Race Horse. By the same.
• For they says there's a Providence sits up aloft See the course throng'd with gazers, the To keep watch for the life of Poor Jack.
sports are begun, The confusion but hear !—I'll bet you, sir- Why, I heard the good chaplain palaver one day Done!
About souls, heaven, mercy, and such, Ten thousand strange murmurs resound far and And, my timbers! what lingo he'd coil and
belay! near, Lords, hawkers, and jockeys assail the tir'd ear: 1. Why, 'twas just all as one as High Dutch. While, with neck like a rainbow, erecting his But he said how a sparrow can't founder, d're
Without orders that come down below, (see, hring and pleasid. his head | And many fine things that pror'd clearly to me touching his breast,
That Providence takes us in tow. Scarcely snuffing the air, he's so proud and elate, / For, says he, do you mind me, let storms e'er The high-inettled racer first starts for the plate.
There's a sweet little cherub that sits up alaft Now Reynard's turn d out, and o'er hedge
To keep watch for the life of Poor Jack. and ditch rush Hounds, horses, and huntsmen, all hard at his I said to our Poll, for you see she would erv, brush;
When at last we weigh'd anchor for xen, They run him at length, and they have him at What argufies sniv'ling, and piping your eve?
[dious way: Why, what a damn'd fool you must be! And by scent, and by view, cheat a long te-Can't you see the world's wide, and there's While, alike born for sports of the field and the room for us all, course,
Both for seamen and lubbers ashore? Always sure to come through, a staunch and And if to old Davy I should go, friend Poll, fleet horse ;
Why, you never will hear of me more.
What then? all's a hazard : come don't be so When Theseus on the naked shore .
Perhaps I may laughing come back ; [soft, Fair Ariadne left, For, d'ye see, there's a cherub that sits up aloft D'ye think she did her fate deplore,
To keep watch for the life of Poor Jack. Or her fine locks or bosom tore, D'ye mind me, a sailor should be every inch | Not she. indeed.' Her fleeting love
Like one of hope bereft? All as one as a piece of the ship, And with her brave the world without offering And as gay Bacchus' tigers move;
From mortal turus divine ; to finch, From the moment the anchor's a-trip.
His car ascends amidst a grove
Of vines, surrounded by a throng, As for me, in all weathers, all times, sides and
Who lead the jolly pair along, ends,
Almost half-gone with wine. Nought's a trouble from duty that springs; For my heart is my Poll's, and iny rhino's my Ma'am Helen lov'd the Phrygian boy, friend's,
He thought her all his own : And as for my life, 'tis the king's.
But hottest love will soonest cloy, Even when my time comes, ne'er believe me He ne'er had brought her safe to Troy so soft
But for the wife of Thone.
She, merry gossip, mix'd a cup
And Helen drank it every sup:
Nepenthe call'd; but, 'twixt ourselves $ 140. By the same.
'Twas nothing more than wine. Or all sensations pity brings,
Of Lethe, and its flow'ry brink, To proudly swell the ample heart,
Let musty poets prate, From which the willing sorrow springs, Where thirsty souls are said to drink, In others' grief that bears a part :
That never they again may think Of all sad sympathy's delights,
Upon their former state : The manly dignity of grief,
What is there in this soulless lot, A joy in mourning that excites,
pray you, so divine? And gives the anxious mind relief : Grief finds the palace and the cot, Of these would you the feeling know,
Which, for a time, were well forgot ; Most gen'rous, noble, greatly brave, Come here then, in our Lethe share, That ever taught a heart to glow,
The true oblivion of your care
Let dangers come, he braves them all;
§ 142. By the sume. Or undistinguish'd doom'd to fall.
Yanko he tell, and he tell no lie, Yet wrapt in conscious worth secure,
We near one pretty brook, The world, that now forgets his toil,
| Him flowing hair, him lovely eye, He views from a retreat obscure,
Sweetly on Orra look: And quits it with a willing smile.
Him see big world, fine warrior men, Then, trav'ller, one kind drop bestow,
Grand cruel king love blood; "Twere graceful pity, nobly brave;
Great king! but Yanko say what den Nought ever taught the heart to glow
If he no honest good ? Like the tear that bedews a soldier's grave.
Virtue in foe be virtue still,
Fine stone be found in mine:
The sun one dale, as well one bill, $ 141. By the same.
Make warm where'er him shine.
You broder him, him broder you, What though from Venus Cupid sprung,
So all the world should call; No attribute diyine
For nature say, and she say true, (Whate'er the bawling bards have sung) Had he, his bow till Bacchus strung,
That men be broder all. And dipt bis darts in wine ;
If cruel man, like tiger grim, Till old Silenus plung'd the boy
Come bold in thirst of blood, In nectar from the vine:
Poor man: be noble, pity him, Then love, that was before a toy,
That he no honest good: Became the source of mortal joy ;
Virtue in foe be virtue still, The urchin shook his dewy wings,
Fine stone be found in mine : And careless leveli'd clowns and kings; The sun one dale, as well one hill, Such power has mighty wine!
Make warın where'er him shine.