To raise the ceiling's fretted height,

Each panel in achievements clothing, Rich windows that exclude the light,

And passages, that lead to nothing.

Full oft within the spacious walls,
When he had fifty winters o'er him,
My grave Lord-Keeper led the brawls;
The seals and maces danced before him.

His bushy beard, and shoe-strings green,

His high-crown'd hat, and satin doublet, Moved the stout heart of England's queen,

Though Pope and Spaniard could not trouble it.

What, in the very first beginning!

Shame of the versifying tribe!

Your hist❜ry whither are you spinning!
Can you do nothing but describe?

A house there is (and that's enough)
From whence one fatal morning issues
A brace of warriors, not in buff,

But rustling in their silks and tissues.

The first came cap-a-pie from France,
Her conqu'ring destiny fulfilling,
Whom meaner beauties eye askance,
And vainly ape her art of killing.

The other Amazon kind heav'n

Had arm'd with spirit, wit, and satire ;

But Cobham had the polish giv'n,

And tipp'd her arrows with good-nature.

To celebrate her eyes, her air

Coarse panegyrics would but tease her;

Melissa is her " nom de guerre."

Alas, who would not wish to please her!

With bonnet blue and capuchine,

And aprons long, they hid their armour; And veil'd their weapons, bright and keen, In pity to the country farmer.

Fame, in the shape of Mr. P-t,
(By this time all the parish know it,)
Had told that thereabouts there lurk'd
A wicked imp they call a poet :

Who prowl'd the country far and near,
Bewitch'd the children of the peasants,

Dried up the cows, and lamed the deer,
And suck'd the eggs, and kill'd the pheasants.

My lady heard their joint petition,

Swore by her coronet and ermine, She'd issue out her high commission To rid the manor of such vermin.

The heroines undertook the task,

Thro' lanes unknown, o'er stiles they ventured, Rapp'd at the door, nor stay'd to ask,

But bounce into the parlour enter'd.