Now has thy' keftrell courage fell; And fairies, fince a lye you tell, Are free to work thee woe.' Then Will, who bears the wifpy fire There, like a tortoise in a shop, The revel now proceeds apace, They fit, they drink, and eat; The time with frolick mirth beguile, By this the ftars began to wink; They fhriek, they fly, the tapers fink, For never spell by fairie laid With strong enchantment bound a glade Chill, dark, alone, adreed, he lay ; Till up the welkin rofe the day, Then deem'd the dole was o'er: But wot ye well his harder lot! This tale a Sybil-nurfe ared: She foftly stroak'd my youngling head, And when the tale was done, • Thus Thus fome are born, my fon,' fhe cries, • With base impediments to rise, And fome are born with none. But virtue can itfelf advance To what the favourite fools of chance. • Virtue can gain the odds of fate, THE FABLE OF JOTHAM, TO THE BOROUGH-HUNTERS. BY RICHARD OWEN CAMBRIDGE, ESQ Jotham's fable of the trees is the oldeft that is extant, and as beautiful as any which have been made fince that time. JUDGES, CHAP. IX. ADDISON. LD Plumb, who though bless'd in his Kentish retreat, Still thrives by his oilfhop in Leadenhall Street, Tho' much they difcours'd, the long way to beguile, They came filent and tir'd into Exeter city. Some books, pr'ythee, landlord, to pafs a dull hour! No nonsense of parfons, or methodists four; No poetical stuff, a damn'd jingle of rhymes, But fome pamphlet that's new, and a touch on the times.' 6 O Lord!' fays mine hoft, you may hunt the town round, I question if any fuch thing can be found : • I never was afk'd for a book by a guest ; And I'm fure I have all the great folk in the West. None of thefe, to my knowledge, e'er call'd for a book. But fee, Sir, the woman with fish, and the cook! • Here's the fatteft of carp; fhall we dress you a brace? • Would you have any foals, or a mullet or plaice?' A place,' quoth the knight, we must have, to be fure, • We'll talk of the place when we've settled the poll: Sir Freeport began with this verse, tho' no rhyme- • But by both were refus'd, and their answer the fame : Quoth the olive," Shall I leave my fatnefs and oil "For an unthankful office, a dignify'd toil ?" "Shall I leave," quoth the fig-tree, "my sweetness and fruit, "To be envy'd or flav'd in fo vain a pursuit !" Thus rebuff'd and furpriz'd they apply to the vine : He answer'd, "Shall I leave my grapes and my wine, (Wine, the fovereign cordial of god and of man!) “To be made or the tool or the head of a clan ?” At laft, as it always falls out in a scramble, The mob gave the cry for "A bramble! a bramble! "A bramble "A bramble for ever!" O chance unexpected! But bramble prevail'd, and was duly elected.' O! ho!' quoth the knight, with a look most profound, • Now I fee there's fome good in good books to be found. • I wish I had read this fame bible before; Of long miles, at the leaft, 'twould have fav'd us fourscore. You, Plumb, with your olives and oil might have staid, And myself might have tarry'd my wines to unlade. What have merchants to do from their business to ramble! Your electioneer-errant should still be a bramble." Thus ended at once the wife comment on Jotham, And our citizens jaunt to the borough of Gotham, THE TRANSFORMATION OF LYCON AND EUPHORMIUS. BY WILLIAM MELMOTH, ESQ. EEM not, ye plaintive crew, that suffer wrong, DE Ne thou, O man! who deal'ft the tort, misween What time Arcadia's flow'ret vallies fam'd, There wonn'd a wight, and Lycon was he nam'd, Ne Ne juftice rul'd his heart, ne mercy sway'd. Some held him kin to that abhorred race, Which heaven's high towers with mad emprize affay'd; And fome his cruel lynage did ytrace From fell Erynnis join'd in Pluto's dire embrace. But he, perdy, far other tale did feign, And claim'd alliaunce with the Sifters nine; Vaunting that every foe fhould rue it's tine. One only impe he had, Paftora hight, Whose fweet amenaunce pleas'd each fhepherd's eye: Clear, without fpot, as fummer's cloudlefs fky." In Lycon's form, enflam'd with paffion high, • Deceiv'd her mother in the covert glade, And from the ftol'n embrace yfprong the heavenly maid:" Thus fabling they. Meanwhile, the damfél fair She deffly pac'd along fo debonair; Seem'd fhe as one of Dian's chosen train. Full many a fond excuse he knew to feign, Till love unwares his heedlefs heart did gain. Now |