Gay Bacchus little Cupid ftung, And Cupid mock'd his ftammering tongue, And Jocus droll'd on Comus' ways, And tales without a jest; While Comus call'd his witty plays But waggeries at best. Such talk foon fet them all at odd's ; And had I Homer's pen, I'd fing ye, how they drank like Gods, To part the fray, the Graces fly, Bacchus appeas'd, rais'd Cupid up, Jocus took Comus' rofy crown, And thrice, in mirth, he push'd him down, Then Cupid fought the myrtle grove, Where Venus did recline; And Venus close embracing Love, They join'd to rail at wine. And Comus loudly curfing wit, Bacchus and Jocus still behind, For one fresh glass prepare; But part in time, whoever hear A FAIRY TALE, IN THE ANCIENT ENGLISH STILE. IN Britain's ifle, and Arthur's days, Edwin, I wis, a gentle youth, Endow'd with courage, fenfe, and truth, His mountain back mote well be faid, Yet, spite of all that Nature did He felt the charms of Edith's eyes, But one Sir Topaz drefs'd with art, Edwin, if right I read my fong, 'Twas near an old enchanted court, His heart was drear, his hope was cross'd, 'Twas late, 't was far, the path was loft That reach'd the neighbour-town; With weary steps he quits the fhades, But fcant he lays him on the floor, And, well I ween to count aright, Now founding tongues affail his ear, And from the corner where he lay Come prankling o'er the place. But (trust me, Gentles!) never yet The country lent the fweet perfumes, Now whilft he gaz'd, a gallant drest What mortal of a wretched mind, At this the fwain, whofe venturous foul "Nor have I cause of dreed, he faid, " 'Twas grief, for scorn of faithful love, "Which made my fteps unweeting rove "Amid the nightly dew." ""T is well, the gallant cries again, "We fairies never injure men "Who dare to tell us true. "Exalt thy love-dejected heart, "Be mine the task, or ere we part, "To make thee grief refign; "Now take the pleasure of thy chaunce ; "Whilft I with Mab, my partner, daunce, "Be little Mable thine." He spoke, and all a fudden there The monarch leads the queen: The dauncing past, the board was laid, Withouten hands the dishes fly, But, now to please the fairy king, Some wind and tumble like an ape, Till one at laft, that Robin hight, |