The strong attack subdued his lively powers, His was the grave, and Doctor Grandspear ours. 'Then were there golden times the village round; In his abundance all appear'd t' abound; Nor, like the doctor, wore a world of hat, Nor turn'd from gipsies, vagabonds, or fools; Of questions, much he wrote, profound and dark, A way to Heaven, though not their own, How spake the serpent, and where stopp'd the ark; From what far land the Queen of Sheba came ; Who Salem's priest, and what his father's name; He made the Song of Songs its mysteries yield, And Revelations, to the world, reveal'd. How does my Sexton ?-What! the times He sleeps i' the aisle,-but not a stone records are hard; His name or fame, his actions or his words : Drive that stout pig, and pen him in thy And truth, your reverence, when I look yard." around, But most, his rev'rence loved a mirthful And mark the tombs in our sepulchral Thy coat is thin; why, man, thou'rt barely dress'd; It's worn to th' thread: but I have nappy beer; Clap that within, and see how they will wear! " 'Gay days were these; but they were quickly past: ground, (Though dare I not of one man's hope to doubt), I'd join the party who repose without. He was a sober and a comely youth; When first he came, we found he cou'dn't When preaching, seldom ventured on reproof, last: A whoreson cough (and at the fall of leaf) Upset him quite :-but what's the gain of grief? 'Then came the Author-Rector: his delight Was all in books; to read them, or to write: Women and men he strove alike to shun, And hurried homeward when his tasks were done : Courteous enough, but careless what he said, Careless was he of surplice, hood, and band,And kindly took them as they came to hand: But touch'd his neighbours tenderly enough. Him, in his youth, a clamorous sect assail'd, Advised and censured, flatter'd,—and prevail'd. Then did he much his sober hearers vex, Confound the simple, and the sad perplex; To a new style his reverence rashly took; Loud grew his voice, to threat'ning swell'd his look; Above, below, on either side, he gazed, But launch'd outright, and rose and sank again : At times he smiled in scorn, at times he wept, And such sad coil with words of vengeance kept, That our best sleepers started as they slept. "Conviction comes like lightning," he would "In vain you seek it, and in vain you fly; will blow, My alms-deeds all, and every deed I've done, My moral-rags defile me every one; It should not be what say'st thou ? tell me, Ralph." Quoth I, "Your reverence, I believe, you're safe; Your faith's your prop, nor have you pass'd such time How and from whence these gusts of grace In life's good-works as swell them to a crime. It shuns, but sinners in their way impedes, 'Such was the doctrine our young prophet And here conviction, there confusion When his thin cheek assumed a deadly hue, No more his span-girth shanks and quiv'ring Upheld a body of the smaller size; But down he sank upon his dying bed, "Spite of my faith, all-saving faith," he Their names; thus parents shall the child forsake; Thus brides again and bridegrooms blithe "I fear of worldly works the wicked pride; By love or law compell'd their vows to mind; These simple annals of the VILLAGE POOR. THE BIRTH OF FLATTERY Omnia habeo, neque quicquam habeo ; [1807] Quidquid dicunt, laudo; id rursum si negant, laudo id quoque : Negat quis, nego; ait, aio: TERENT. in Eunuch. Act II, Sc. 2, v. 12, .. 20, 21. It has been held in ancient rules, SWIFT, Cadenus and Vanessa, 1. 758. The Subject-Poverty and Cunning described -When united, a jarring Couple-Mutual Reproof-The Wife consoled by a Dream -Birth of a Daughter-Description and Prediction of Envy-How to be rendered ineffectual, explained in a Vision-Simulation foretells the future Success and Triumphs of Flattery-Her Power over various Characters and different Minds; over certain Classes of Men; over Envy himself-Her successful Art of softening the Evils of Life; of changing Characters; of meliorating Prospects, and affixing Value to Possessions, Pictures, &c.-Conclusion. MUSE of my Spenser, who so well could sing The passions all, their bearings and their ties; In Fairy-land, on wide and cheerless plain, Dwelt, in the house of Care, a sturdy swain; A hireling he, who, when he till'd the soil, Look'd to the pittance that repaid his toil; And to a master left the mingled joy And anxious care that follow'd his employ: Sullen and patient he at once appear'd, As one who murmur'd, yet as one who fear'd ; Th' attire was coarse that clothed his sinewy frame, Rude his address, and Poverty his name. In that same plain a nymph, of curious taste, A cottage (plann'd with all her skill) had placed; Strange the materials, and for what design'd Who could in view those shadowy beings The various parts, no simple man might find; bring, And with bold hand remove each dark disguise, Wherein love, hatred, scorn, or anger lies: Guide him to Fairy-land, who now intends That way his flight; assist him as he flies, To mark those passions, Virtue's foes and friends, What seem'd the door, each entering guest withstood, What seem'd a window was but painted wood; But by a secret spring the wall would move, And daylight drop through glassy door above: 'Twas all her pride, new traps for praise to lay, And all her wisdom was to hide her way; By whom when led she droops, when leading In small attempts incessant were her pains, she ascends. And Cunning was her name among the swains. Now, whether fate decreed this pair should Who know it not, some useless beauties wed, And blindly drove them to the marriage-bed; But both diposed to wed-and wed they were. Yet, though united in their fortune, still Their ways were diverse; varying was their will; Nor long the maid had bless'd the simple man, see, But ah! to prove it, was reserved for me.' Become as safe and pleasant as his own; see What plan, what project, with success is New cause for fear-'Is this thy thrift?' Have brought to thee, and thou consum'st Born with my features, with my arts, yet she them all: For want like thine-a bog without a base- 'Oh! vaunt of worthless art,' the swain replied, Scowling contempt, how pitiful this pride! gains, But base rewards for ignominious pains? By all thy boasted skill and baffled hooks, No more than I for my poor deeds am paid, Whom none can blame, will help, or dare upbraid. 'Call this our need, a bog that all devours,— Then what thy petty arts, but summerflowers, Gaudy and mean, and serving to betray Shall patient, pliant, persevering be, gleam On our fair child, how glorious were my dream!' This heard the husband, and, in surly smile, Aim'd at contempt, but yet he hoped the For as, when sinking, wretched men are found And found that rush as valid as a rope. Swift fled the days, for now in hope they fled, When a fair daughter bless'd the nuptial bed; tions moved The gazer's soul, and, as he look'd, he loved. grace So mild a nature and so fair a face. They gave, with beauty, that bewitching art, That holds in easy chains the human heart; They gave her skill to win the stubborn mind, To make the suffering to their sorrows blind, To bring on pensive looks the pleasing smile, And Care's stern brow of every frown beguile. These magic favours graced the infantmaid, Whose more enlivening smile the charming gifts repaid. That every gift, that now appear'd to shine His spell prepared, in form an ancient dame, (Muttering his wicked magic) to his breast; Now Fortune changed, who, were she con- And thus he said :-' Of all the powers who stant long, Would leave us few adventures for our song. Envy his name :-his fascinating eye He dwelt with man, that he might curse man- Like the first foe, he sought th' abode of Joy, Soil'd the fresh sweet, and changed the rosy The wise, the good, with anxious heart he saw, And here a failing found, and there a flaw; The great-what calm content the cottage To part the learned and the rich he tried, Such was the fiend, and so secure of prey, Soon as he heard the fairy-babe was born, scorn; For why, when Fortune placed her state so In useless spite his lofty malice show? wait On Jove's decrees, and do the work of fate, 'Know then, O child! devote to fates severe, The good shall hate thy name, the wise shall fear; Wit shall deride, and no protecting friend |