Full well 'tis known adown the dale:
Tho' paffing frange indeed the tale,
And doubtfull may appear,

I'm bold to fay, there's never a one.
That has not feen the witch in ftone,
With all her household gear.

But tho' this lernede clerke did well :
With grieved heart, alas! I tell,
She left this curfe behind:

That Wokey-nymphs forfaken quite, Tho' fenfe and beauty both unite, Should find no leman kind.

For lo! even as the fiend did fay,
The fex have found it to this day,
That men are wondrous fcant:

Here's beauty, wit, and fenfe combin'd,
With all that's good and virtuous join'd,
Yet hardly one gallant.

Shall then fich maids unpitied moane? They might as well, like her, be ftone, As thus forfaken dwell.

Since Glafton now can boaft no clerks; Come down from Oxenford, ye fparks,

And, oh! revoke the spell.

Yet flay - nor thus defpond, ye fair;
Virtue's the gods' peculiar care;
I hear the gracious voice:
Your fex fhale foon be bleft agen,
We only wait to fi d fich men,
As beft deferve your choice.

T

BRYAN AND PEREENE.

A WEST-INDIAN BALLAD.

HE north-ea wind did brifkly blow,
The hip was fafely moor'd,

Young Boyan thought the boat's-crew flow,
And foleapt over-board.

Pereene, the pride of Indian dames,
His heart long held in thrall,
And whofo his impatience blames,
I wot, ne'er lov'd at all.

A long long year, one month and day,

He dwelt on English lind,

Nor once in thought or deed would stray,
Tho' ladies lought his hand.

For Bryan he was tall and ftrong,
Right blythfome roll'd his een,
Sweet was his voice whene'er he fung,
He fcant had twenty feen.

But who the countlefs charms-can draw,
That grac'd his mistress true;
Such charms the old world feldom faw,
Nor oft I ween the new.

Her raven hair plays round her neck,
Like tendrils of the vine;

Her cheeks red dewy rofe buds deck,
Her eyes like diamonds fhine.

Soon as his well known fhip fhe fpied,
She caft her weeds away,
And to the palmy fhore fhe hied,
All in her beft array.

In fea-green filk so neatly clad,
She there impatient flood;
The crew with wonder faw the lad.
Repell the foaming flood.

Her hands a handkerchief display'd,
Which he at parting gave;
Well pleas'd the token he furvey'd,
And manlier beat the wave.

Her fair companions one and all,

Rejoicing crowd the ftrand; For now her lover fwam in call,

And almoft touch'd the land.

Then through the white surf did she haste, To clasp her lovely fwain:

When, ah! a shark bit through his waste & His heart's blood dy'd the main!

He fhriek'd! his half sprang from the wave,
Streaming with purple gore,
And foon it found a living grave,
And ah! was feen no more.

Now hafte, now haste, ye maids, I pray,

Fetch water from the spring:

She falls, fhe fwoons, fhe dyes away,
And foon her knell they ring.

Now each May morning round her tomb
Ye fair, fresh flow'rets ftrew,

So may your lovers fcape his doom,
Her hapless fate fcape you.

H

GENTLE RIVER, GENTLE RIVER.

TRANSLATED FROM THE SPANISH

ENTLE river, gentle river,

GLO, the freams are flain d'with gore,

Many a brave and noble captain
Floats along thy willow'd fhore.

All befide thy limped waters,

All befide thy fands so bright,
Moorish Chiefs and Chriftian Warriors
Join'd in fierce and mortal fight.

Lords, and Dukes, and noble Princes
On thy fatal banks were flain:
Fatal banks that gave to flaughter
All the pride and flower of Spain.

There the hero, brave Alonzo,
Full of wounds and glory died:
There the fearless Urdiales
Fell a victim by his fide.

Lo! where yonder Don Saavedra
Thro' the squadrons flow retires;
Proud Seville, his native city,

Proud Seville his worth admires: