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I should be glad to drink your Honour's health in
A Pot of Beer, if you will give me Sixpence ;
But for my part, I never love to meddle

With politics, Sir.

Friend of Humanity.

I give thee Sixpence! I will see thee damned first-
Wretch whom no sense of wrongs can rouse to vengeance-
Sordid, unfeeling, reprobate, degraded,

Spiritless outcast !

(Kicks the Knife-grinder, overturns his wheel, and exit in a transport of Republican Enthusiasm and Universal Philanthropy.)

G. CANNING.

180. ASK ME NO MORE WHERE JOVE BESTOWS

Ask me

no more where Jove
bestows,
When June is past, the fading rose;
For in your beauty's orient deep
These flowers, as in their causes,
sleep.

Ask me no more whither do stray
The golden atoms of the day;
For in pure love heaven did

prepare

Those powders to enrich your hair.

Ask me no more whither doth

haste

The nightingale when May is past;
For in your sweet dividing throat
She winters, and keeps warm her
note.

Ask me no more where those stars
'light

That downwards fall in dead of
night;

For in your eyes they sit, and there
Fixed become as in their sphere.

Ask me no more if east or west
The Phoenix builds her spicy nest;
For unto you at last she flies,
And in your fragrant bosom dies.

181. MEDIOCRITY IN LOVE REJECTED
GIVE me more love, or more disdain;
The torrid or the frozen zone
Bring equal ease unto my pain;

The temperate affords me none:
Either extreme, of love or hate,
Is sweeter than a calm estate.
Give me a storm; if it be love-
Like Danaë in that golden shower,
I'll swim in pleasure; if it prove

Disdain, that torrent will devour
My vulture hopes; and he's possessed
Of heaven, that's from hell released.
Then crown my joys, or cure my pain;
Give me more love, or more disdain.

T. CAREW.

T. CAREW.

182. DISDAIN RETURNED

HE that loves a rosy cheek,
Or a coral lip admires ;
Or from star-like eyes doth

seek

Fuel to maintain his fires :
As old Time makes these decay,
So his flames must waste away.

183.

But a smooth and steadfast mind,
Gentle thoughts, and calm
desires,
Hearts with equal love combined,
Kindle never-dying fires:
Where these are not, I despise
Lovely cheeks or lips or eyes.
T. CAREW.

UNGRATEFUL BEAUTY THREATENED

KNOW, Celia, since thou art so proud,
'Twas that gave thee thy renown;
Thou hadst in the forgotten crowd

Of common beauties lived unknown,
Had not my verse exhaled thy name,
And with it imped the wings of Fame.
That killing power is none of thine:
I gave it to thy voice and eyes;
Thy sweets, thy graces, all are mine;

Thou art my star, shin'st in my skies;
Then dart not from thy borrowed sphere
Lightning on him that fixed thee there.
Tempt me with such affrights no more,
Lest what I made I uncreate;
Let fools thy mystic forms adore,
I know thee in thy mortal state:
Wise poets, that wrapt Truth in tales,
Knew her themselves through all her veils.

184. MARK HOW THE BASHFUL MORN

MARK how the bashful morn in vain
Courts the amorous marigold
With sighing blasts and weeping rain,
Yet she refuses to unfold;

But when the planet of the day
Approacheth with his powerful ray
Then she spreads, then she receives
His warmer beams into her virgin leaves.
So shalt thou thrive in love, fond boy;
If thy tears and sighs discover
Thy grief, thou never shalt enjoy

The just reward of a bold lover.
But when with moving accents thou
Shalt constant faith and service vow,
Thy Celia shalt receive those charms
With open ears, and with unfolded arms.

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T. CAREW.

T. CAREW.

88

CAREW-CAREY

Ecclesiastical evrics.

185. TO HIS INCONSTANT MISTRESS
WHEN thou, poor Excommunicate

From all the joys of Love, shalt see
The full reward and glorious fate

Which my strong faith shall purchase me,
Then curse thine own inconstancy!

A fairer hand than thine shall cure

That heart which thy false oaths did wound;
And to my soul a soul more pure

Than thine shall by Love's hand be bound,
And both with equal glory crowned.

Then shalt thou weep, entreat, complain
To Love, as I did once to thee;
When all thy tears shall be in vain
As mine were then: for thou shalt be
Damned for thy false apostasy.

186. A LOYAL SONG

[SUNG AT THE THEATRES ROYAL. GOD save great George our King, Long live our noble King,

God save the King! Send him victorious, Happy and glorious, Long to reign over us,

God save the King!

T. CAREW.

FOR TWO VOICES Published 1742].
O Lord, our God, arise,
Scatter our enemies,

And make them fall;
Confound their politics,

Frustrate their knavish tricks!
On Thee our hopes we fix-
God save us all!

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188. FROM THE MOUNTAINS TO THE CHAMPAIGN

FROM the mountains to the Champaign,

By the glens and hills along,
Comes a rustling and a tramping,
Comes a motion as of song:

And this undetermined roving

Brings delight, and brings good heed;

Life's no resting, but a moving,

Let thy life be Deed on Deed !

Keep not standing fixed and rooted,
Briskly venture, briskly roam :
Head and hand, where'er thou foot it.
And stout heart, are still at home.
In each land the sun does visit
We are gay, whate'er betide :
To give room for wandering is it
That the world was made so wide.

T. CARLYLE.

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