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§ 162. To a Mouse, on turning ber up in ber Ne? Bending thee 'mang the dewy weet !
W' fpreckl'd breast,
The purpling east :
Cauld blew the bitter-biting north
Upon thy early, humble birth;
Yet cheerfully thou glinted forth
Amid the storm,
Scarce rear'd above the parent-carth Has broken nature's social union,
Thy tender forin.
The Haunting Aow'rs our gardens yield,
High fhieltering woods an’ wa’s maun Thield; Acme, thy poor earth-born companion,
But thou, beneath the random bield
O'clod or ftane,
Adorns the hifiie ftibble-field, What then ? poor beastie, thou maunl ive!
Unseen, alane. A diamen-icker in a brave
There in thy scanty mantle clad, 'S a (ima' request;
Thy fnawie bosom lun-ward spread,
Thou lifts thy unassuming head
In humble guise ;
But now the bare up tears thy bed, Its filly wa's the wins are strewing;
And low thou lies!
Such is the fate of artless maid,
Sweet flouret of the rural shade!
By love's fimplicity betray'd,
And guilelers trust,
Till me, like thee, all soil'd, is laid
Low i' the dust.
Such is the fate of simple bard,
On life's rough ocean luckless starr'd!
Unskilful he to note the card
Of prudent lore,
Till billows rage, and gales blow hard, Has cost thee monie a weary nibble !
And whelm him o'er ! Now thou 's turn'd out, for a'thy trouble, Such fate to suffering Worth is giv'n, But house or hald,
Who long with wants and woes has ftris'n,To thole the winter's fleety dribble,
By human pride or cunning driv'n
To Mis'ry's brink,
Till wrench'd of every stay but Heaven, In proving forefight may be vain :
He, ruin d, fink!
Ev'n thou who mourn'st the Daisy's fate,
Tbat fate is tbine-no distant date :
Stern ruin's plougb-fare drives, elate,
Fuli on thy bloom,
Till, crush'd, beneath the furrow's weight, Still thou art bleft, compar'd wi' me!
Shall be thy doom!
$164. An Ejay ufon unnatural Fligbts in Poetry. An' forward, tho' I canna fee,
LANSDOWNE. I guess an' fear.
A S when some image of a charming face,
In living paint, an artist tries to trace,
He carefully consults each beauteous line, § 163. To a Mountain Daisy, on turning one
| Adjusting to his object his design; down with the Plough, in April 1786. BURNS.
We praise the piece, ard give the painter fame, W EE, modest, crimson-tipped Aow'r,
But as the bright resemblance speaks the dame : V Thou 's met me in an evil hour;
Poets are limners of another kind,
To copy out ideas in the mind;
Words are the paint by which their thoughts are To spare thee now is past my pow'r,
thewn, . Thou bonie gem!
And Nature is their object to be drawn; Alas ! its no thy neebor sweet
The written picture we applaud or blame The bonic lark, companion meci!
But as thc juft proportions are the same.
Who, driven with ungovernable fire,
Like castles built by magic art in air, Or void of art, beyond these bounds aspire, | Chat vanish at approach, such thoughts appear; Gigantic forms and monstrous births alone | But, rais'd on truth by fome judicious hand, Produce, which Nature shock'd disdains to own. As on a rock they shall for ages stand. By true reflection I would see my face,
Our king return'd, and banish'd peace restor'd, Why brings the fool a magnifying glass? The Muse ran mad to fee her exil'd lord ; " But poetry in fiction takes delight,
On the crack'd stage the Bedlam heroes roar'd, “ And, mounting in bold figures out of sight, } | And scarce could speak one reasonable word: " Leaves Truth behind in her audacious fight: J Dryden himself, to please a frantic age, “ Fables and mctaphors, that always lye,
Was forc'd to let his judgment stoop to rage; “ And rath hyperboles that soar so high,
To a wild audience he conform'd his voice, « And er'ry ornament of verfe muft die." Complied to custom, but not err'd through choice, Mistake me not : no figures I exclude,
Deem then the people's, not the writer's fin, And but forbid intemperance, nor food. Almansor's rage, and rants of Maximin ; Who would with care some happy fiction frame, That fury fpent in each elaborate piece, So mimics truth, it looks the very fame; He vies for fame with ancient Rome and Greece. Not rais'd to force, or feign'd in Nature's scorn, Roscoinmon first, then Mulgrave role, like light, But meant to grace, illustrate, and adorn. To clear our darkness, and to guide our fight; Important truths still let your fables hold, With ftçady judgment, and in lofty sounds, And moral mysteries with art unfold :
They gave us patterns, and they set us bounds, Ladies and beaus to please, is all the task ; The Stagyrite and Horace laid aside, But the sharp critic will instruction ask. Informd by them, we need no foreign guide. As veils transparent cover, but not hide,
Who seek from poetry a lasting name, Such metaphors appear, when right applied; May from their lessons learn the road to fame; When through the phrase we plainly see the sense, But let the bold adventurer be sure Truth with such obvious meanings will difpenfe. That ev'ry line the test of truth endure; The reader what in reason 's due believes, On this foundation may the fabric rise Nor can we call that false which not deceives : Firm and unshaken, till it touch the skies. Hyperboles, fo daring and so bold,
Frem pulpits banish'a, from the court, from love, Disdaining bounds, are yet by rules controul'd; Abandon d Truth feeks shelter in the grove; Above the clouds, but yet within our light, Cherish, ye Muses, the forsaken fair, They mount with Truth, and make a tow'ring And take into your train this beauteous wanderer, Presenting things impossible to view, [Alight: They wander through incredible to true. § 165. To Mr. Spence, prefixed to the Ejay or Falsehoods thus mix'd like metals are refin'd;
Pitt. And Truth, like silver, leaves the dross behind. I'TIS donc-restor'd by thy immortal pen, Thus Poetry has ample space to foar,
1 The critic's noble name revives again ; Nor needs forbidden regions to explore ;
Once more that great, that injur'd name we see Such vaunts as his, who can with patience read, Shine forth alike in Addison and thee. Who thus describes his hero when he's dead | Like curs, our critics haunt the poet's fealt, “ In heat of action slain, yet scorns to fall, And feed on scraps refus'd by ev'ry guest; • But ftill maintains the war, and fights at--All:" From the old Thracian * dog they learn d the way The noisy culverin, o'er-charg'd, lets fly, To foarl in want, and grumble o'er their prey : And bursts, unaiming, in the rended sky; | As though they grudg'a themselves the joys they Such frantic flights are like a madman's dream, I feel, And Nature fuiters in the wild extreme. Vex'd to be charm’d, and pleas'd against their will, The captive cannibal, opprest with chairs, Such their inverted taste, that we expect Yet braves his foes, reviles, provokes, dildains; For faults their thanks, for beauties their neglect, Of nature fierce, untameable, and proud, So the fell snake rejeets the fragrant flow'rs, He bids defiance to the gaping crowd;
And ev'ry poison of the field devours. And spent at last, and speechless, as he lies,
Like bold Longinus of immortal fame, With fiery glances mocks their rage, and dies. | You read your poet with a poet's flame; This is the utmost stretch that Nature can, With his, your gen'rous raptures ftill aspire; And all beyond is fulloine, false, and vain. The critic kindles when the bard 's on fire. The Roman wit, who impiously divides
But when some lame, some limping line demands His hero and his gods to different sides, | The friendly succour of your healing hands; I would condemn, but that, in spite of sense, | The feather of your pen drops balm around, Th' admiring world still stands in his defence : | And plays, and tickles, while it cures the wound. The gods permitting traitors to succeed,
While Pope's immortal labour we survey, Become not parties in an impious deed; | We stand all dazzled with excess of day, And, by the tyrant's murder, we may find Blind with the glorious blaze-to vulgar fight That Cato and the gods were of a mind. | 'Twas one bright mass of undistinguish'd light; Thus forcing truth with such prepoft 'rous praise, But, like the tow'ring caglc, you alone Our characters we leffen when we 'd raise; | Discern'd the spots and splendors of the sun.
* Zoilus, so called by the ancients.
To point out faults, yet never to offend; I am a linen-draper bold,
And my good friend the callender
Will lend his horse to go. A strict integrity, devoid of art;
Quoth Mistress Gilpin, That 's well said;
And, for that wine is dear,
John Gilpin kiss d his loving wife;
O'erjoy'd was he to find $ 166. The Enquiry. Written in the last Century.
That, though on pleasure lhe was bent,
She had a frugal mind. , A MONGST the myrtles as I walk'd,
The morning came, the chaise was brought, n Love and my fighs thus intertalk'd : • Tell me, faid 1, in deep distress,
But yet was not allow'd
(To drive up to the door, left all • Where may I find my ihepherdess?' “ Thou fool, said Love, know'st thou not this?
Should say that the was proud. “ In ev'ry thing that 's good, she is;
So three dooss off the chaise was stay'a, “ In yonder tulip go and seck,
| Where they did all ger in, " There thou may ft find her lip, her cheek; Six precious souls, and all agog * In yon enameli'd pansy by,
To dath through thick and thin. “ There thou shalt have her curious eye ; Smack went the whip, round went the wheels, * In bloom of peach, in rosy bud,
Were never folks so glad; “ There wave the streamers of her blood; The stones did rattle underneath " In brightest lilies that there stand,
| As if Cheapside were mad. « The emolems of her whiter hand;
| John Gilpin at his horse's side “ In yonder rising hill there limell
Seiz'd fast the flowing mane s “ Such sweets as in her bofom divell :
And up he got in hafte to ride, “ 'Tis true," said he. And thercupon
But loon came down again :
For saddle-tree scarce reach'd had he,
His journey to begin, With that I stopp'd. Said Love, “ These be, When, turning round his head, he law “ Fond inan, relemblances of thee;
Three customers come in. « And as there flow'rs thv joys Thall die, So down he came; for loss of time, " E'en in the iwinkling of an eye;
Although it griev'd hiin sore, “ And all thy hopes of her shall wither, Yer loss of pence, full well he knew, “ Like these fort sweets that knit together," Would trouble him much more.
'Twas long before the customers $ 167. The Diverting History of John Gilpin;
Were suited to their mind;
When Betty screaming came down stairs, Thewing bow be went furtber than he intended,
« The wine is left behind !" and came fafe bome again. Cow PER. JOHN GILPIN was a citizen
Good lack! quoth he-yet bring it me, J Of credit and renown,
My leathern belt likewise,
In which I bear my trusty sword
When I do exercise.
Now Mistress Gilpin, careful soul ! Though wedded we have been
Had two stone bottles found, These twice ten tedious years, yet we
To hold the liquor that she lovid, No holiday have seen.
Avd keep it safe and sound. Tomorrow is our wedding-day,
Each bottle had a curling ear, And we will then repair
Through which the belt he drew Unto the Beil at Edmonton,
And hung a bottle on each side, All in a chaise and pair.
To make his balance true; My fifter and my Gifter's child,
Then over all, that he might be Myself and children three,
Equipp'd from top to toe, Will fill the chaise, so you must side
His long red cloak, well brush'd and ncat, On horseback after we.
He manfully did tlırow. He soon replied, I do admire
Now see him mounted once again Of womankind but one ;
Upon his nimble steed, And you are the, my dearest dear,
Full Nowly pacing o'er the stones Therefore it shall be done.
With caution and good heed,
Buc But finding foon a smoother road
| At Edmonton his loving wife Beneath his well-shod feet,
From balcony efpied The snorting beast began to trot,
Her tender husband, wond'ring much Which gail'd him in his feat.
To see how he did ride. So, fair and fofily, John he cried,
Stop, stop, John Gilpin ! here's the house – But John be cried in vain ;
They all at once did cry; That trot became a gallop soon,
The dinner waits, and we are tir'd: In spite of curb and rein.
Said Gilpin-So am I. So fooping down, as needs he must
But yet his horse was not a whit
Inclin'd to tarry there;
Fullien miles off, at Ware.
So like an arrow swift he few, Had handled been before,
Shot by an archer strong; What thing upon his back had got
So did he fly-which brings me to Did wonder more and more.
The middle of iny song. Away went Gilpin, neck or nought,
Away went Gilpin, out of breath, Away went hat and wig;
And fore against his will, He litle dreamt, when he fat out,
Till at his friend's the callender's Of running such a rig.
His horse at last stood ftill. The wind did blow, the cloak did fly,
The callender, ainaz’d to see Like streamer long and gay,
His neighbour in such trim, Till, loop and button failing both,
Laid down his pipe, flew to the gate, At last it flew away.
And thus accofied him : Then might all people well discera
What news! what news! your tidings tell, The bottles he had flung;
Tell me you must and shallA bottle swinging at each fide,
Say why bare-headed you are come, As hath been laid or fung.
Or why you come at all? The dogs did bark, the children scream’d, Now Gilpin had a pleasant wit, Up flew the windows ail;
And loyd a timely joke; And ev'ry soul cried out, Well done!
And thus unto the callender As loud as he could bawl.
In merry guise he spoke: Away went Gilpin—who but he ;
I came because your horse would come : His fame foon fpread around
And, if I well forebode, He carries weight! he rides a race!
My hat and wig will soon be here, 'Tis for a thousand pound.
They are upon the road. And fill as fast as be drew near
The callender, right glad to find 'Twas wonderful to vic'y
His friend in merry pin, How in a trice the turnpike-men
Return'd him not a lingle word, Their gates wide open threw.
But to the houie went in ; And now as he went bowing down
When straight he came with hat and wig, His recking head full low,
A wig that flow'd behind, The bottles twain behind his back
A hat not much the worse for wear, Were shatter'd at a blow.
Each comely in its kind. Don ran the wine into the road,
He held them up, and in his turn Molt piteous to be seen,
Thus thew'd his ready wit: Which made his horse's flanks to smoke My head is twice as big as yours, As they had bafted been.
They therefore needs must fit. But still he feem'd to carry weight,
But let me scrape the dirt away With leathern girdle brac’d;
Thar hangs upon your face; For all inight ice the bottle-necks
| And stop and cat, for well you may Still danglırg at his waist.
Be in a hungry case. Thus all through merry Illington
Said John, It is my wedding day; These gambols he did play,
And all the world would stare, And till he came unto the Wash
If wife should dine at Edmonton, Of Edmonton fo gay.
And I should dine at Warc. And there he threw the wash about
So turning to his horse he said, On both sides of the way,
1 I am in haste to dine: Just like unto a trundling mop,
'Twas for your pleasure you came herc, Or a wild goose at play.
You shall go back for inine.
Ah luckless speech, and bootless boast ! ( Now shine the spires beneath the paly moon, For which he paid full dear;
And thro' the cloisters peace and filence reign; For while he spake a braying ass
Save where some fidler scrapes a drowsy tune, Did sing most loud and clear;
Or copious bowls inspire a jovial strain; Whereat his horse did short, as he
Save that in yonder cobweb-mantled room, Had heard a lion roar;
Where sleeps a student in profound repofe, And gallop'd off with all his might,
Oppress'd with ale, wide echoes thro' the gloom As he had done before.
The droning music of his vocal nose. Away went Gilpin, and away
Within those walls, where thro' the glimmering Went Gilpin's hat and wig;
Inade He lost them sooner than at first,
Appear the pamphlets in a mouldering heap, For why they were too big.
Each in his narrow bed till morning laid, Now Mistress Gilpin, when she saw
The peaceful fellows of the college ncep. Her husband posting down
The tinkling bell proclaiming early pray’rs, Into the country far away,
The noisy fervants rattling o'er their head, She pull'd out half a crown;
The calls of business, and domeftic cares, And thus unto the youth she said
Ne'er route these feepers from their downy bed. That drove them to the Bell,
No chattering females crowd their social fire, This shall be yours when you bring back
No dread have they of discord and of strife; My husband safe and well.
Unknown the names of husband and of fire, The youth did ride, and soon did meet
Unfelt the plagues of matrimonial life. John coming back amain,
Oft have they bask'd beneath the sunny walls, Whom in a trice he tried to stop
Oft have the benches bow'd beneath their By catching at his rein;
weight, But not performing what he meant,
How jocund are their looks when dinner calls ! And gladly would have done,
How smoke the cutlets on their crowded plate! The frighted steed he frighted more,
O ! let not temperance, too disdainful, hear And made him fafter run.
How long their feasts, how long their dinners last: Away went Gilpin, and away
Nor let the fair, with a contemptuous Incer, Went post-boy at his heels,
Ou these unmarried men reflections caft! The post-boy's horle right glad to miss
The splendid fortune and the beauteous face The lumb'ring of the wheels.
(Themselves confess it, and their fires bemoan) Six gentlemen upon the road
Too foun are caught by scarlet and by lace; Thus seeing Gilpin fly,
These fons of science shine in black alone. With post-boy scamp’ring in the rcar,
Forgive, ye fair, th' involuntary fault, They rais'd the hue and cry :
If these no fears of gaiety display,
Not one of them was mute;
Melodious Frasi trills her quavering lay.
Say, is the sword well suited to the band ? : And now the turnpike gates again
1 Does broider'd coat agree with fable gown? Flew open in short space;
Can Mechlin laces thade a churchman's hand ? The toll-men thinking, as before,
Or learning's rotaries ape the beaus of town? That Gilpin rode a race.
Perhaps in these time-tottering walls refide And so he did, and won it too,
Some who were once the darling of the fair, For he got first to town,
Some who of old could tastes and fathions guide, Nor sopp'd till where he first got up
Control the manager, and awe the player. He did agaiu get down.
But Science now has fill'd their vacant mind Now let us fing, Long live the king,
With Rome's rich spoils, and truth's exalted And Gilpin, long live he;
views, And when he next doth ide abroad,
Fir’d them with transports of a nobler kind, May I be there to fee!
And bade them flight all females—but the muse:
Full many a lark, high towering to the sky, 8 168. An Eveniny Contemplation in a College :: Unheard. unheeded. greets th'approach of light;
in Imitation of Gray's Elegy in a Country Full many a star, unseen by mortal cye, night. Church-yard,
DUNCOMBE. With twinkling luftre gliminers through the THE curfew rolls the hour of closing gates ; Some future Herring, who, with dauntless breast, 1 With jarıing found the porter turns the key; Rebellion's torrent Thall like him oppose, Then in his dreary mansion numb'ring waits, Some mute, unconscious Hardwicke here may reft, And slowly, sternly, quits it, though for mc. Some Pelkam, arcadful to his country's foes.