He said, that Heaven would take her soul, no

doubt,

And spoke the hour-glass in her praise— quite out.
To her sweet memory, flowery garlands strung,
O'er her now empty seat aloft were hung.
With wicker rods we fenc'd her tomb around,
To ward from man and beast the hallow'd ground;
Lest her new grave the parson's cattle raze,
For both his horse and cow the church-yard graze.
Now we trudg'd homeward to her mother's farm,
To drink new cyder mull'd, with ginger warm. 150
For Gaffer Treadwell told us, by the by,
"Excessive sorrow is exceeding dry."

While bulls bear horns upon their curled brow,
Or lasses with soft stroakings milk the cow;
While paddling ducks the standing lake desire,
Or battening hogs roll in the sinking mire;
While moles the crumbled earth in hillocks raise;
So long shall swains tell Blouzelinda's praise.

Thus wail'd the louts in melancholy strain,
Till bonny Susan sped across the plain.
They seized the lass in apron clean array'd,
And to the ale-house forc'd the willing maid;
In ale and kisses they forget their cares,
And Susan Blouzelinda's loss repairs.

Ver. 153

160

Dum juga montis aper, fluvios dum piscis amabit, Dumque thymo pascentur apes, dum rore cicada, Semper honos, nomenque tuum, laudesque mane

bunt.

VIRG.

SATURDAY; OR, THE FLIGHTS.

BOWZYBEUS.

SUBLIMER strains, O rustic Muse! prepare;
Forget awhile the barn and dairy's care;
Thy homely voice to loftier numbers raise,
The drunkard's flights require sonorous lays;
With Bowzybeus' songs exalt thy verse,

While rocks and woods the various notes rehearse.
'Twas in the season when the reapers' toil
Of the ripe harvest 'gan to rid the soil;
Wide through the field was seen a goodly rout,
Clean damsels bound the gather'd sheaves about; 10
The lads, with sharpen'd hook and sweating brow,
Cut down the labours of the winter plough.
To the near hedge young Susan steps aside,
She feign'd her coat or garter was unty'd;
Whate'er she did, she stoop'd adown unseen,
And merry reapers what they list will ween.
Soon she rose up, and cry'd with voice so shrill,
That Echo answer'd from the distant hill;

The youths and damsels ran to Susan's aid,
Who thought some adder had the lass dismay'd. 20
When fast asleep they Bowzybeus spy'd,

His hat and oaken staff lay close beside;
That Bowzybeus who could sweetly sing,
Or with the rosin'd bow torment the string;
That Bowzybeus who, with fingers speed,

Could call soft warblings from the breathing reed;

Ver. 22.

Serta procul tantum capiti delapsa jacebant. VIRG.

30

That Bowzybeus who, with jocund tongue, Ballads and roundelays and catches sung : They loudly laugh to see the damsel's fright, And in disport surround the drunken wight. "Ah, Bowzybee, why didst thou stay so long? The mugs were large, the drink was wondrous strong!

Thou should'st have left the fair before 'twas night; But thou sat'st toping till the morning light."

Cicely, brisk maid, steps forth before the rout, And kiss'd with smacking lip the snoaring lout: (For custom says, "Whoe'er this venture proves, For such a kiss demands a pair of gloves.") By her example Dorcas bolder grows, And plays a tickling straw within his nose. He rubs his nostril, and in wonted joke

40

[spoke :

The sneering swains with stammering speech be"To you, my lads, I'll sing my carols o'er,

As for the maids.

I've something else in store." No sooner 'gan he raise his tuneful song, But lads and lasses round about him throng.

Not ballad-singer plac'd above the crowd

Sings with a note so shrilling sweet and loud;

Ver. 40.

Sanguineis frontem moris et tempora pingit. VIRG. Ver. 43.

Carmina, quæ vultis, cognoscite! carmina vobis ; Huic aliud mercedis erit.

Ver. 47.

Nec tantum Phobo gaudet Parnassia rupes:

VIRG.

Nec tantum Rhodope mirantur et Ismarus Orphea.

VIRG.

Nor parish-clerk, wno calls the psalm so clear,
Like Bowzybeus soothes th' attentive ear.

50

Of Nature's laws his carols first begun, Why the grave owl can never face the Sun. For owls, as swains observe, detest the light, And only sing and seek their prey by night. How turnips hide their swelling heads below : And how the closing coleworts upwards grow; How Will-o-wisp misleads night-faring clowns O'er hills, and sinking bogs, and pathless downs. Of stars he told, that shoot with shining trail, And of the glow-worm's light that gilds his tail. 6C He sung where woodcocks in the Summer feed, And in what climates they renew their breed, [tend, (Some think to northern coasts their flight they Or to the Moon in midnight hours ascend); Where swallows in the Winter's season keep, And how the drowsy bat and dormouse sleep; How Nature does the puppy's eyelid close Till the bright Sun has nine times set and rose; (For huntsmen by their long experience find, That puppies still nine rolling suns are blind.) 70 Now he goes on, and sings of fairs and shows, For still new fairs before his eyes arose. How pedlars' stalls with glittering toys are laid, The various fairings of the country maid. Long silken laces hang upon the twine, And rows of pins and amber bracelets shine;

Ver. 51. Our swain had possibly read Tusser, from whence he might have collected these philosophical observations:

Namque canebat, uti magnum per inane coacta, &c.

How the tight lass knives, combs, and scissars spies,
And looks on thimbles with desiring eyes.

Of lotteries next with tuneful note he told,
Where silver spoons are won, and rings of gold. 80
The lads and lasses trudge the street along,
And all the fair is crowded in his song.

The mountebank now treads the stage, and sells
His pills, his balsams, and his ague-spells;
Now o'er and o'er the nimble tumbler springs,
And on the rope the venturous maiden swings;
Jack Pudding in his party-colour'd jacket
Tosses the glove, and jokes at every packet.
Of raree-shows he sung, and Punch's feats,
Of pockets pick'd in crowds, and various cheats. 90
Then sad he sung the Children in the Wood:
(Ah, barbarous uncle, stain'd with infant blood!)
How blackberries they pluck'd in deserts wild,
And fearless at the glittering falchion smil'd;
Their little corpse the robin-red-breasts found,
And strow'd with pious bill the leaves around.
(Ah, gentle birds! if this verse lasts so long,
Your names shall live for ever in my song.)

For Buxom Joan he sung the doubtful strife,
How the sly sailor made the maid a wife.

100

To louder strains he rais'd his voice, to tell What woeful wars in Chevy-chace befell, When Percy drove the deer with hound and horn, Wars to be wept by children yet unborn!

Ver. 97.

Fortunati ambo, si quid mea carmina possunt, Nulla dies unquam memori vos eximet ævo. VIRG. Ver. 99. A song in the comedy of Love for Love, beginning "A soldier and a sailor," &c.