Such were the fruits of John's poetic toil, Weeds, but still proofs of vigour in the soil; He nothing purposed but with vast delight, Let Fancy loose, and wonder'd at her flight: His notions of poetic worth were high, And of his own still-hoarded poetry; These to his father's house he bore with pride, A miser's treasure, in his room to hide; Till spurr'd by glory, to a reading friend He kindly show'd the sonnets he had penn'd : With erring judgment, though with heart sincere, That friend exclaim'd, "These beauties must appear." In magazines they claim'd their share of fame, Though undistinguish'd by their author's name; And with delight the young enthusiast found The muse of Marcus with applauses crown'd. This heard the father, and with some alarm; "The boy," said he, "will neither trade nor farm; "He for both law and physic is unfit,

"Wit he may have, but cannot live on wit:

“Let him his talents then to learning give

"Where verse is honour'd, and where poets live."

John kept his terms at college unreproved,
Took his degree, and left the life he loved;
Not yet ordain'd, his leisure he employ'd
In the light labours he so much enjoy'd ;
His favourite notions and his daring views
Were cherish'd still, and he adored the Muse.

“A little time, and he should burst to light, "And admiration of the world excite;

"And every friend, now cool and apt to blame "His fond pursuit, would wonder at his fame." When led by fancy, and from view retired, He call'd before him all his heart desired; "Fame shall be mine, then wealth shall I possess, "And beauty next an ardent lover bless; "For me the maid shall leave her nobler state, "Happy to raise and share her poet's fate.” He saw each day his father's frugal board, With simple fare by cautious prudence stored; Where each indulgence was foreweigh'd with care, And the grand maxims were to save and spare: Yet in his walks, his closet, and his bed, All frugal cares and prudent counsels fled; And bounteous Fancy, for his glowing mind, Wrought various scenes, and all of glorious kind; Slaves of the ring and lamp! (1) what need of you, When Fancy's self such magic deeds can do?

Though rapt in visions of no vulgar kind,
To common subjects stoop'd our poet's mind ;
And oft when wearied with more ardent flight,
He felt a spur satiric song to write;
A rival burgess his bold Muse attack'd,
And whipp'd severely for a well known fact;
For while he seem'd to all demure and shy,
Our poet gazed at what was passing by;
And ev'n his father smiled when playful wit,
From his young bard, some haughty object hit.

(1) [See, in the Arabian Nights' Entertainments, the History of Aladdin, or the Wonderful Lamp.]

From ancient times, the borough where they dwelt Had mighty contest at elections felt:

Sir Godfrey Ball, 'tis true, had held in pay
Electors many for the trying day;

But in such golden chains to bind them all
Required too much for e'en Sir Godfrey Ball.
A member died, and to supply his place,
Two heroes enter'd for th' important race;
Sir Godfrey's friend and Earl Fitzdonnel's son,
Lord Frederick Damer, both prepared to run;
And partial numbers saw with vast delight
Their good young lord oppose the proud old knight.

Our poet's father, at a first request,

Gave the young lord his vote and interest;
And what he could our poet, for he stung
The foe by verse satiric, said and sung.
Lord Frederick heard of all this youthful zeal,
And felt as lords upon a canvass feel;
He read the satire, and he saw the use

That such cool insult, and such keen abuse,

Might on the wavering minds of voting men produce; Then too his praises were in contrast seen,

"A lord as noble as the knight was mean."

"I much rejoice," he cried, "such worth to find;

"To this the world must be no longer blind : "His glory will descend from sire to son,

"The Burns of English race, the happier Chatterton." Our poet's mind, now hurried and elate,

Alarm'd the anxious parent for his fate;

Who saw with sorrow, should their friend succeed, That much discretion would the poet need.

Their friend succeeded, and repaid the zeal The poet felt, and made opposers feel,

By praise (from lords how soothing and how sweet!) And invitation to his noble seat.

The father ponder'd, doubtful if the brain

Of his proud boy such honour could sustain;
Pleased with the favours offer'd to a son,
But seeing dangers few so ardent shun.

Thus, when they parted, to the youthful breast The father's fears were by his love impress'd : "There will you find, my son, the courteous ease "That must subdue the soul it means to please ; “That soft attention which ev'n beauty pays "To wake our passions, or provoke our praise: "There all the eye beholds will give delight, "Where every sense is flatter'd like the sight: "This is your peril; can you from such scene "Of splendour part, and feel your mind serene, "And in the father's humble state resume "The frugal diet and the narrow room?" To this the youth with cheerful heart replied, Pleased with the trial, but as yet untried; And while professing patience, should he fail, He suffer'd hope o'er reason to prevail.

Impatient, by the morning mail convey'd, The happy guest his promised visit paid;

And now arriving at the Hall, he tried For air composed, serene and satisfied; As he had practised in his room alone, And there acquired a free and easy tone: There he had said, "Whatever the degree "A man obtains, what more than man is he?" And when arrived "This room is but a room; "Can aught we see the steady soul o'ercome? "Let me in all a manly firmness show,

Upheld by talents, and their value know.”

This reason urged; but it surpass'd his skill
To be in act as manly as in will:

When he his Lordship and the Lady saw,
Brave as he was, he felt oppress'd with awe;
And spite of verse, that so much praise had won,
The poet found he was the Bailiff's son.

But dinner came, and the succeeding hours Fix'd his weak nerves, and raised his failing powers; Praised and assured, he ventured once or twice On some remark, and bravely broke the ice; So that at night, reflecting on his words, He found, in time, he might converse with lords.

Now was the Sister of his Patron seen
A lovely creature, with majestic mien;
Who, softly smiling while she look'd so fair,
Praised the young poet with such friendly air;
Such winning frankness in her looks express'd,
And such attention to her brother's guest;