In vain the Syrens tune the fong In vain they glance their beck'ning guiles, His foul is fix'd-on God. At length he kens the promis'd land, § 223. The Enquiry. Written in the laft Century. AMONGST the myrtles as I walk'd, Love and my fighs thus intertalk'd: Tell me, faid I, in deep diftrefs, Where may I find my thepherdefs?' "Thou fool, faid Love, know'st thou not this? "In ev'ry thing that's good, the is; "In yonder tulip go and feck, "There thou may ft find her lip, her cheek; "In yond enamell'd panfy by, t "There thou fhalt have her curious eye; "In bloom of peach, in rofy bud, "There weave the streamers of her blood; "In brighteft lilies that there ftand, "The emblems of her whiter hand; "In yonder rifing hill there fmell "Such fweets as in her bofom dwell: "'Tis true," faid he. And thereupon I went to pluck them one by one, To make of parts an union; But on a fudden all was gone. With that I ftopt. Said Love, "These be, "Fond man, refemblances of thee; "And as thefe flow'rs thy joys fhall die, "E'en in the twinkling of an eye; "And all thy hopes of her fhall wither, "Like thefe fhort fweets that knit together, END OF THE FOURTH BOOK. ELEGANT LUDICROUS Poems, Epigrams, Epitaphs, Odes, Claffical Songs, Ballads, creation, §1. The diverting Hiflory of John Gilpin; Bewing baru be went farther than he intended, and came fafe home again. COWPER. OHN GILPIN was a citizen Of credit and renown, A train-band captain cke was he Of famous London town. John Gilpin's fpoufe faid to her dear, He foon replied, I do admire Of womankind but one; I am a linen-draper bold, As all the world doth know, Quoth Mistress Gilpin, That's well faid; That, though on pleafure the was bent, The morning came, the chaife was brought, To drive up to the door, lest all Should fay that he was proud. Six precious fouls, and all agog To dash through thick and thin. Smack went the whip, round went the wheels, Were never folk fo glad; The ftones did rattle underneath As if Cheapfide were mad. For faddle-tree fcarce reach'd had he, When, turning round his head, he faws So down he came; for lofs of time, When Betty fcreaming came down stairs, Good lack quoth he-yet bring it me, In which I bear my trusty fword Now Miftrefs Gilpin, careful foul ! To hold the liquor that the lov'd And keep it fafe and found. Each bottle had a curling car, Through which the belt he drew, And hung a bottle on each fide, To make his balance true; Equipp'd from top to toe, His long red cloak, well brush'd and neat, Now fee him mounted once again So ftooping down, as needs he must He grafp'd the mane with both his hands, His horfe, who never in that fort Had handled been before, Did wonder more and more. The wind did blow, the cloak did fly, The dogs did bark, the children fcream'd, And ev'ry foul cried out, Well done! His fame foon fpread around- open And now as he went bowing down Down ran the wine into the road, Which made his horfe's flanks to fmoke But still he feem'd to carry weight, For all might fee the bottle-necks And there he threw the wash about Her tender husband, wond'ring much Stop, ftop, John Gilpin! here's the house- The dinner waits, and we are tir'd: But yet his horfe was not a whit Shot by an archer strong; And fore against his will, Till at his friend's the callender's His horfe at last stood still. The callender, amaz'd to fee His neighbour in such trim, Laid down his pipe, flew to the gate, What news! what news! your tidings tell, Tell me you must and shall Say why bare-headed you are come, And thus unto the callender I came because your horfe would come: My hat and wig will foon be here, The callender, right glad to find Whence ftraight he came with hat and wig, A hat not much the worfe for wear, He held them up, and in his turn Thus fhew'd his ready wit: That hangs upon your face; Said John, It is my wedding-day; And I fhould dine at Ware. I am in hafte to dine: 'Twas for your pleasure you came here, Went Gilpin's hat and wig; She pull'd out half a crown; And thus unto the youth fhe faid That drove them to the Bell, The youth did ride, and foon did meet But not performing what he meant, Away went Gilpin, and away Went poft-boy at his heels, And now the turnpike gates again And fo he did, and won it too, Now let us fing, Long live the king, § 2. An Evening Contemplation in a College; in Imitation of Gray's Elegy in a County Church-yard. DUNCOMBE. THE curfew tolls the hour of closing gates; With jarring found the porter turns the key; Then in his dreary manfion flumbering waits, And flowly, sternly quits it, though for me. Now fhine the fpires beneath the paly moon, And thro' the cloifters peace and filence reign; Save where fome fidler fcrapes a drowsy tune, Or copious bowls infpire a jovial ftrain; Save that in yonder cobweb-mantled room, Where fleeps a student in profound repofe, Opprefs'd with ale, wide echoes thro' the gloom The droning music of his vocal nose. Within those walls, where thro' the glimmering fhade Appear the pamphlets in a mouldering heap, Each in his narrow bed till morning laid, The peaceful fellows of the college fleep. The tinkling bell proclaiming early pray'rs, The noify fervants rattling o'er their head, The calls of business, and domestic cares, Ne'er rouse these fleepers from their doway bed. No chattering females crowd their fecial fire, How jocund are their looks when dinner calls! How long their feasts, how long their dinners laft: Nor let the fair, with a contemptuous fneer, (Themfelves confefs it, and their fires bemoan) vault Melodious Frafi trills her quavering lay. Say, is the fword well fuited to the band? Does broider'd coat agree with fable gown? Can Mechlin laces fhade a churchman's hand' Or learning's votaries ape the beaux of town? Perhaps in these time-tottering walls refide Some who were once the darling of the fair, Some who of old could taftes and fashions guide, Control the manager, and awe the player. But Science now has fill'd their vacant mind With Rome's rich spoils, and truth's exalted views,. Fir'd them with transports of a nobler kind, And bade them flight all females-but the mufe. Full Full many a lark, high towering to the sky, Unheard, unheeded, greets th' approach of light; Full many a ftar, unfeen by mortal eye, With twinkling luftre glimmers through the night. Some future Herring, who, with dauntless breaft Rebellion's torrent fhall like him oppose, Some mute, unconfcious Hardwicke here may reft, Some Pelham, dreadful to his country's foes. From prince and people to command applause, 'Midft ermin'd peers to guide the high debate, To fhield Britannia's and Religion's laws, And fteer with fteady courfe the helin of stateFate yet forbids; nor circumfcribes alone Their growing virtues, but their crimes confines; Forbids in Freedom's veil t' infult the throne, Beneath her mafque to hide the worst designs; To fill the madding crowd's perverted mind, With "penfions, taxes, marriages, and Jews;" Or fhut the gates of heaven on loit mankind, And wreft their darling hopes, their future views. Far from the giddy town's tumultuous ftrife, Their wishes yet have never leain'd to ftray; Content and happy in a fingle life, They keep the noifelefs tenor of their way. Ev'n now, their books from cobwebs to protect, Inclos'd by doors of glafs in Doric ftyle On polish'd pillars rais'd with bronzes deck'd, They claim the paffing tribute of a finile: Oft are the authors' names, though richly bound, Mif-fpelt by blundering binders' want of care; And many a catalogue is itrew'd around, To tell th' admiring gucft what books are there. For who, to thoughtless ignorance a prey, Neglects to hold fhort dalliance with a book? Who there but wishes to prolong his stay, And on thofe cafes cafts a lingering look? Reports attract the lawyer's parting eyes, Novels Lord Fopling and Sir Plume require, For Songs and Plays the voice of Beauty cries, And Senfe and Nature Grandifon defire. For thee, who, mindful of thy lov'd compcers, Doft in thefe lines their artlefs tale relate, If chance, with prying search, in future years, Some antiquarian fhould enquire thy fate; Haply fome friend may shake his hoary head, And fay, "Each morn unchill'd by fiofts he 66 ran, "With hofe ungarter'd, o'er yon turfy bed, "To reach the chapel ere the pfalmis began; "There, in the arms of that lethargic chair, "Which rears its old moth-eaten back fo high, "At noon he quaff'd three glaffes to the fair, "And por'd upon the news with curious cyc. "Now by the fire engag'd in serious talk, "Or mirthful converfe, would he loitering 66 stand; "Then in the garden chofe a funny walk, "Or launch'd the polish'd bowl with steady "hand. "One morn we mifs'd him at the hour of pray'r, "Nor in the hall, nor on his favourite green: Another came; nor yet within the chair, "Nor yet at bowls or chapel was he seen. "The next we heard that, in a neighbouring "fhire, "That day to church he led a blufhing bride, "A nymph whose fnowy veft and maiden fear "Improv'd her beauty while the knot was tied. "New, by his patron's bounteous care remov'd, "He roves enraptur'd thro' the fields of Kent; "Yet, ever mindful of the place he lov'd, "Read here the letter which he lately fent." The Letter. IN rural innocence fecure I dwell, Alike to fortune and to fame unknown; Approving confcience cheers my humble cell, And focial quiet marks me for her own: Next to the bleffings of religious truth, Two gifts my endless gratitude engage— A Wife, the joy and tranfport of my youth; Now with a Son, the comfort of my age. Seck not to draw me from this kind retreat, In loftier fpheres unfit, untaught to move; Content with calm domeftic life, where meet The fweets of friendship, and the finiles of love. |