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Or when from high she levels well her aim,

And, through the thatch, his cries each falling stroke pro

claim.

The other tribe, aghast, with sore dismay,
Attend, and con their tasks with mickle care:
By turns, astonied, every twig survey,

And, from their fellow's hateful wounds, beware,
Knowing, I wist, how each the same may share,
Till fear has taught them a performance meet,
And to the well-known chest the dame repair;
Whence oft with sugar'd cates she doth them greet,
And ginger-bread y-rare; now certes, doubly sweet.

See to their seats they hie with merry glee,
And in beseemly order sitten there;
All but the wight of bum y-galled, he

Abhorreth bench, and stool, and form, and chair;
(This hand in mouth y-fix'd, that rends his hair ;)
And eke with snubs profound, and heaving breast,
Convulsions intermitting! does declare

His grievous wrong; his dame's unjust behest;
And scorns her offer'd love, and shuns to be caress'd.

His face besprent with liquid crystal shines,
His blooming face that seems a purple flower,
Which low to earth its drooping head declines,
All smear'd and sullied by a vernal shower.
O the hard bosoms of despotic power!
All, all, but she, the author of his shame,

All, all, but she, regret this mournful hour;

Yet hence the youth and hence the flower shall claim, If so I deem aright, transcending worth and fame.

Behind some door, in melancholy thought,
Mindless of food, he, dreary caitiff! pines,
Ne for his fellows' joy aunce careth aught,
But to the wind all merriment resigns;

And deems it shame, if he to peace inclines:
And many a sullen look askance is sent,
Which for his dame's annoyance he designs;
And still the more to pleasure him she 's bent,
The more doth he, perverse, her havior past resent.

Ah me! how much I fear lest pride it be!
But if that pride it be, which thus inspires,
Beware, ye dames, with nice discernment see
Ye quench not too the sparks of nobler fires:
Ah! better far than all the Muses' lyres,
All coward arts, is Valor's generous heat;
The firm fixt breast which fit and right requires,
Like Vernon's patriot soul! more justly great
Than Craft that pimps for ill, or flowery false Deceit.

Yet nurs'd with skill, what dazzling fruits appear!
E'en now sagacious Foresight points to show
A little bench of heedless bishops here,

And there a chancellor in embryo,

Or bard sublime, if bard may e'er be so,

As Milton, Shakespeare, names that ne'er shall die! Though now he crawl along the ground so low, Nor weeting how the Muse should soar on high, Wisheth, poor starveling elf! his paper kite may fly.

And this perhaps, who, censuring the design,
Low lays the house which that of cards doth build,
Shall Dennis be! if rigid Fate incline,

And many an epic to his rage shall yield;

And many a poet quit th' Aonian field;
And, sour'd by age, profound he shall appear,

As he who now with 'sdainful fury thrilled
Surveys mine work; and levels many a sneer,

And furls his wrinkly front, and cries, "What stuff is here?"

But now Dan Phoebus gains the middle skie,
And Liberty unbars her prison-door;

And like a rushing torrent out they fly,
And now the grassy cirque had covered o'er,
With boisterous revel-rout and wild uproar;
A thousand ways in wanton rings they run,
Heaven shield their short-liv'd pastime, I implore!
For well may Freedom erst so dearly won,
Appear to British elf more gladsome than the Sun.

Enjoy, poor imps! enjoy your sportive trade,
And chase gay flies, and cull the fairest flowers;
For when my bones in grass-green sods are laid,
O never may ye taste more careless hours
In knightly castles, or in ladies' bowers.
O vain to seek delight in earthly thing!

But most in courts where proud Ambition towers; Deluded wight! who weens fair Peace can spring Beneath the pompous dome of kesar or of king.

See in each sprite some various bent appear!
These rudely carol most incondite lay ;
Those sauntering on the green, with jocund leer
Salute the stranger passing on his way;

Some builden fragile tenements of clay;

Some to the standing lake their courses bend, With pebbles smooth at duck and drake to play; Thilk to the huxter's savory cottage tend,

In pastry kings and queens th' allotted mite to spend.

Here, as each season yields a different store,
Each season's stores in order ranged been;
Apples with cabbage-net y-covered o'er,
Galling full sore th' unmoney'd wight, are seen;
And goose-b'rie clad in livery red or green;
And here of lovely dye, the Catharine pear,
Fine pear! as lovely for thy juice, I ween:

O may no wight e'er penniless come there, Lest smit with ardent love he pine with hopeless care!

See! cherries here, ere cherries yet abound,
With thread so white in tempting posies tied,
Scattering like blooming maid their glances round,
With pamper'd look draw little eyes aside;
And must be bought, though penury betide.
The plume all azure, and the nut all brown,
And here each season do those cakes abide,
Whose honored names* th' inventive city own,

Rendering through Britain's isle Salopia's praises known;

Admir'd Salopia! that with venial pride

Eyes her bright form in Severn's ambient wave,
Famed for her loyal cares in perils tried,

Her daughters lovely, and her striplings brave:
Ah! 'midst the rest, may flowers adorn his grave
Whose heart did first these dulcet cates display!
A motive fair to Learning's imps he gave,
Who cheerless o'er her darkling region stray;

Till Reason's morn arise, and light them on their way.
WILLIAM SHENSTONE.

The Chameleon.

OFT has it been my lot to mark
A proud, conceited, talking spark,
With eyes, that hardly served at most
To guard their master 'gainst a post,
Yet round the world the blade has been
To see whatever could be seen,

Returning from his finished tour,
Grown ten times perter than before;
Whatever word you chance to drop,
The traveled fool your mouth will stop;

Shrewsbury cakes.

"Sir, if my judgment you 'll allow,
I've seen and sure I ought to know,"
So begs you 'd pay a due submission,
And acquiesce in his decision.

Two travelers of such a cast,
As o'er Arabia's wilds they passed,
And on their way in friendly chat,
Now talked of this, and then of that,
Discoursed awhile, 'mongst other matter,
Of the chameleon's form and nature.
"A stranger animal," cries one,
"Sure never lived beneath the sun.

A lizard's body, lean and long,
A fish's head, a serpent's tongue,
Its foot with triple claw disjoined;
And what a length of tail behind!
How slow its pace; and then its hue-
Who ever saw so fine a blue?"

"Hold, there," the other quick replies, "'T is green, I saw it with these eyes, As late with open mouth it lay, And warmed it in the sunny ray: Stretched at its ease, the beast I viewed And saw it eat the air for food." "I've seen it, sir, as well as you, And must again affirm it blue; At leisure I the beast surveyed, Extended in the cooling shade."

"'T is green, 't is green, sir, I assure ye!" "Green!" cries the other in a fury

"Why, sir!-d' ye think I 've lost my eyes?" “'T were no great loss," the friend replies, "For, if they always serve you thus,

You'll find them of but little use."

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