Darts sloping, and to Thetis' watery lap
Hastens in prone career, with friends select
Swiftly we hie to Devil3, young or old,
Jocund and boon; where at the entrance stands
A stripling, who, with scrapes and humil cringe,
Greets us in winning speech, and accent bland:
With lightest bound, and safe unerring step,
He skips before, and nimbly climbs the stairs.
Melampus thus, panting with lolling tongue,
And wagging tail, gambols and frisks before
His sequent lord, from pensive walk return'd,
Whether in shady wood or pasture green,
And waits his coming at the well-known gate.—
Nigh to the stairs' ascent, in regal port,
Sits a majestic dame, whose looks denounce
Command and sovereignty: with haughty air,
And studied mien, in semicircular throne
Enclosed, she deals around her dread commands:
Behind her (dazzling sight!) in order ranged,
Pile above pile, crystalline vessels shine:
Attendant slaves with eager strides advance,
And, after homage paid, bawl out aloud
Words unintelligible, noise confused:
She knows the jargon sounds, and straight describes,
In characters mysterious, words obscure;
More legible are algebraic signs,
Or mystic figures by magicians drawn,
When they invoke the' infernal spirit's aid.
Drive hence the rude and barbarous dissonance
Of savage Thracians and Croatian boors;
The loud Centaurian broils with Lapithæ
3 The Devil Tavern, Temple Bar.
Sound harsh, and grating to Lenæan god;
Chase brutal feuds of Belgian skippers hence,
(Amid their cups whose innate temper's shown)
In clumsy fist wielding scymetrian knife,
Who slash each other's eyes, and blubber'd face,
Profaning Bacchanalian solemn rites:
Music's harmonious numbers better suit
His festivals, from instruments or voice:
Or Gasperini's hand the trembling string
Should touch; or, from the dulcet Tuscan dames,
Or warbling Toft's far more melodious tongue,
Sweet symphonies should flow: the Delian god
For airy Bacchus is associate meet.
The stairs' ascent now gain'd, our guide unbars The door of spacious room, and creaking chairs (To ear offensive) round the table sets.
We sit; when thus his florid speech begins:
'Name, sirs! the wine that most invites your taste!
Champaign, or Burgundy, or Florence pure,
Or Hock antique, or Lisbon new or old,
Bourdeaux, or neat French white, or Alicant,'
For Bourdeaux we with voice unanimous
Declare, (such sympathy's in boon compeers.)
He quits the room alert, but soon returns;
One hand capacious glistering vessels bears
Resplendent, the' other, with a grasp secure,
A bottle (mighty charge!) upstaid, full fraught
With goodly wine. He, with extended hand
Raised high, pours forth the sanguine frothy juice,
O'erspread with bubbles, dissipated soon:
We straight to arms repair, experienced chiefs:
Now glasses clash with glasses (charming sound!)
And glorious Anna's health, the first, the best,
Crowns the full glass;-at her inspiring name
The sprightly wine results, and seems to smile:
With hearty zeal, and wish unanimous,
Her health we drink, and in her health our own.
A pause ensues: and now with grateful chat
We' improve the interval, and joyous mirth
Engages our raised souls: pat repartee,
Or witty joke, our airy senses moves
To pleasant laughter; straight the echoing room
With universal peals and shouts resounds.
The royal Dane, bless'd consort of the queen, Next crowns the ruby'd nectar, all whose bliss In Anna's placed :—with sympathetic flame, And mutual endearments, all her joys, Like the kind turtle's pure untainted love, Centre in him, who shares the grateful hearts Of loyal subjects, with his sovereign queen; For by his prudent care united shores Were saved from hostile fleets' invasion dire.
The hero Marlborough next, whose vast exploits Fame's clarion sounds; fresh laurels, triumphs new We wish, like those he won at Hochstet's field. Next Devonshire illustrious, who from race Of noblest patriots sprang, whose worthy soul Is with each fair and virtuous gift adorn'd, That shone in his most worthy ancestors; For then distinct in separate breasts were seen Virtues distinct, but all in him unite.
Prudent Godolphin, of the nation's weal Frugal, but free and generous of his own, Next crowns the bowl; with faithful Sunderland, And Halifax, the Muses' darling son,
In whom conspicuous, with full lustre, shine
+ Prince George of Denmark.
The surest judgment and the brightest wit,
Himself Mecænas and a Flaccus too:-
And all the worthies of the British realm,
In order ranged, succeed; such healths as tinge
The dulcet wine with a more charming gust.
Now each his mistress toasts, by whose brighteye
He's fired; Cosmelia fair, or Dulcibell',
Or Sylvia, comely black, with jetty eyes
Piercing, or airy Celia, sprightly maid!—
Insensibly thus flow unnumber'd hours;
Glass succeeds glass, till the Dircean god
Shines in our eyes, and with his fulgent rays
Enlightens our glad looks with lovely dye;
All blithe and jolly, that like Arthur's knights
Of rotund table, famed in old records,
Now most we seem'd-Such is the power of Wine!
Thus we the winged hours in harmless mirth
And joys unsullied pass, till humid Night
Has half her race perform'd; now all abroad
Is hush'd and silent, nor the rumbling noise
Of coach, or cart, or smoky link-boy's call,
Is heard but universal silence reigns;
When we in merry plight, airy and gay,
Surprised to find the hours so swiftly fly,
With hasty knock, or twang of pendant cord,
Alarm the drowzy youth from slumbering nod;
Startled he flies, and stumbles o'er the stairs
Erroneous, and with busy knuckles plies
His yet clung eyelids, and with staggering reel
Enters confused, and muttering asks our wills;
When we with liberal hand the score discharge,
And homeward each his course with steady step
Unerring steers, of cares and coin bereft.
IN western climes, where the bright god of day Darts on the gladsome earth a warmer ray, While smiling Spring led on the jocund hours, And early months bestrew'd the fields with flowers, In bloom of youth Cephisa, lovely maid!
Traced the wide lawns, and through the forests stray'd;
Not all the nymphs who swell Diana's train,
From Cynthus' top when, issuing on the plain,
With hound and horn they raise the cheerful cry,
And the rocks echo and the floods reply;
Not all their train for beauty could compare,
Their goddess' self scarce like Cephisa fair.-
Struck with the sight of such transcendent charms,
With gifts the shepherds woo'd her to their arms.
The amorous toys no grace nor favour gain'd,
The gifts and givers she alike disdain'd,
Resolved in happy solitude to rove
A silvan huntress through the leafy grove.
But envious Fate the nymph no respite gives,
In every heart her loved idea lives;
Even Pan himself, with ardent passion fired,
The god of woods, the woodland nymph desired;
Still as he views, he pants to clasp the maid,
And, softly sighing to himself, he said;
O happy winds! which kiss that snowy breast, O happy garments! which those limbs invest;
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