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The yard's with lines of linen crofs'a,
The hall-door's lock'd, the key is loft :
These difficulties all n'ercome,
We reach at length the drawing-room,
Then there's such trampling over-head,
Madam you'd swear was brought to bed ;
Miss in a hurry bursts the lock,
To get clean sleeves to hide her smock;
The servants run, the pewter clatters,
My lady dresses, calls, and chatters ;
The cook-maid raves for want of butter,
Pigs squeak, fowls scream, and green geese Autter.
Now after three hours tedious waiting,
On all our neighbours faults debating,
And having nine times view'd the garden,
In which there's nothing worth a farthing,
In comes my lady, and the pudden :
You will excuse, fir,-on a sudden-
Then, that we may have four and four,
The bacon, fowls, and colly-flow'r
Their ancient unity divide,
The top one graces, one each fide ;
And by and by the second course
Comes lagging like a diftanc'd horse:
A falver then to church and king,
'The butler sweats, the glasses ring';
The cloth remov'd, the toasts go round,
Bawdy and politicks abound;
And as the knight more tipsy waxes,
We damn all ministers and taxes.
At last the ruddy fun quite funk,
The coachman tolerably drunk,
Whirling o'er hillocks, ruts, and stones,
Enough to dislocate one's bones,
We home return, a wond'rous token
Of heaven's kind care, with limbs unbroken.
Afflict us not, ye Gods, tho' finners,
With many days like this, or dinners !
But if civilities thus teaze me,
Nor business, nor diverfions please me,
You'll ask, my Lord, how time I spend !
I answer, with a book, or friend :
The circulating hours dividing
'Twixt reading, walking, eating, riding:
But books are still my highest joy,
These earlieft please, and latest cloy.
Sometimes o'er diftant climes I ftray,
By guides experienc'd taught the way;
The wonders of each region view,
From frozen LAPLAND to PERU ;
Bound o'er rough seas, and mountains bare,
Yet ne'er forsake my elbow chair.
Sometimes fome fam'd historian's pen.
Recals paft ages back agen,
Where all I fee, through every page,
Is but how men with senseless rage
Each other rob, destroy, and burn,
To serve a priest's, or statesman's turn
Tho' loaded with a diff'rent aim,
Yet always asses much the same.
Sometimes I view with much delight,
Divines their holy game-cocks fight;
Here faith and works at variance set,
Strive hard who shall the victory get;
Presbytery and episcopacy
There fight so long, it would amaze ye :
Here free-will holds a fierce dispute
With reprobation abfolute;
There sense kicks transubftantiation,
And reafon pecks at revelation.
With learned Newton now I fly
O'er all the rolling orbs on high,
Visit new worlds, and for a minute :?
This old one scorn, and all that's in it:
And now with labouring Boyle I trace
Nature thro' ev'ry winding maze, in
The latent qualities admire ...,
Of vapours, water, air, and fire :
With pleasing admiration fee
Matter's surprizing subtlety ;
As how the smallest lamp displays, ti
For miles around, its scatter'd rays;
Or how (the case still more t explain)
* A fart that weighs not half a grain,
a See Boyle's Experiments.
The atmosphere will oft perfume
Of a whole spacious drawing-room.
Sometimes I pass a whole long day
In happy indolence away,
In fondly meditating o’er
Paft pleasures, and in hoping more :
Or wander thro' the fields and woods,
And gardens bath'd in circling floods,
There blooming flow'rs with rapture view,
And sparkling gems of morning dew,
Whence in my mind ideas rise
Of CÆLIA's cheeks, and Chloe's eyes.
'Tis thus, my Lord, I, free from strife,
Spend an-inglorious country life;
These are the joys I still parfue,
When abfent from the town and you :-
Thus pafs long summer funs away,
Busily idle, calmly gay ;
Nor great, nor mean, nor rich, nor poor,
Not having much, or withing more ;
Except that you, when weary grown
Of all the follies of the town,
And seeing, in all publick places,
The same vain fops and painted faces;
Wou'd sometimes kindly condescend
To visit a dull country friend : "
Here vou'll be ever fure to meet
A hearty welcome, tho' no treat,
One who has nothing else to do,
But to divert himself and you :
A house, where quiet guards the door,
No rural wits smoak, drink and roar;
Choice books, fafe horses, wholsome liquor,
Clean girls, backgammon, and the vicar.
To a LADY in Town, foon after her
leaving the Country.
By the Same.
Hilft you, dear maid, o'er thousands born to reign,
For the gay town exchange the rural plain,
The cooling breeze and ev'ning walk forsake
For stifing crowds, which your own beauties make;
Thro' circling joys while you inceffant ftray,
Charm in the Mall, and sparkle at the play ;
Think (if fucceffive vanities can spare
One thought to love) what cruel pangs I bear,
Left in these plains all wretched, and alone,
To weep with fountains, and with echoes groan,
And mourn incessantly that fatal day,
That all my bliss with Chloe snatch'd away.
Say, by what arts I can relieve my pain,
Musick, verse, all I try, but try in vain ;
In vain the breathing flute my hand employs,
Late the companion of my Chloe's voice.