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In Imitation of SPEN S E R.

By William Shenstone, Efq;

Auditæ voces, vagitus & ingens,
Infantumque anima flentes in Limine primo.


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- ADVERTISEMEN T.. What particulars in Spenser were imagind most proper

for the Author's imitation on this occasion, are his language, bis simplicity, his manner of description, and a peculiar tenderness of sentiment remarkable throughout his works.

A H me! full forely is my heart forlorn,

To think how modest worth neglected lies ; While partial Fame doth with her blasts adorn Such deeds alone, as pride and pomp disguise ;



Deeds of ill fort, and mischievous emprize!
Lend me thy clarion, goddess ! let me try
To found the praise of merit, ere it dies;

Such as I oft have chaunced to espy,
Lost in the dreary shades of dull obscurity.,

' II.
In every village mark'd with little spire,
Embow'r'd in trees, and hardly known to Fame,
There dwells, in lowly shed, and mean attire,
A matron old whom we school-mistress name;
Who boasts unruly brats with birch to tame.
They grieven fore, in piteous durance pent,
Aw'd by the pow'r of this relentless dame;

And oft-times on vagaries idly bent, For unkempt hair, or task unconn'd, are forely shent.

III. And all in fight doth rise a birchen tree, Which Learning near her little dome did ftowe; Whilom a twig of small regard to see, Though new so wide its waving branches flow; And work the simple vaffáls mickle woe ; For not a wind might curl the leaves that blew, But their limbs shudder'd, and their pulse beat low;

And, as they look’d, they found their horror grew, And shap'd it into rods, and tingled at the view.

* IV. So

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; IV.
So have I seen (who has not may conceive,)
A lifeless phantom near a garden plac’d: .
So doth it wanton birds of peace bereave,
Of sport, of song, of pleasure, of repaft ;
They start, they stare, they wheel, they look aghaft :
Sad servitude ! such comfortless annoy
May no bold Briton's riper age e'er taste !

Ne Superstition clog his dance of joy,
Ne vision empty, vain, his native bliss destroy.

Near to this dome is found a patch fo green,
On which the tribe their gambols do display ;
And at the door impris’ning board is seen,
Left weakly wights of smaller size should stray ;
Eager, perdie, to bask in sunny day!
The noises intermix'd, which thence resound,
Do Learning's little tenement betray :

Where fits the dame, disguis’d in look profound,
And eyes her fairy throng, and turns her wheel around.

. . VI.
Her cap, far whiter than the driven snow, ..
Emblem right meet of decency does yield:
Her apron dy'd in grain, as blue, I trowe,
As is the Hare-bell that adorns the field:


And in her hand, for scepter, she does wield
Tway birchen sprays ; with anxious Fear entwin'd,
With dark Distrust, and fad Repentance fill'd;

And stedfast Hate, and sharp Affliction join'd,
And Fury uncontrould, and Chastisement unkind.

VII: Few but have ken’d, in semblance meet pourtray'd, The childish faces of old Eol's train ; Libs, Notus, Auster : these in frowns array'd, How then would fare or earth, or sky, or main, Were the stern god to give his saves the rein? And were not she rebellious breasts to quell, And were not the her statutes to maintain,

The cott no more, I ween, were deem'd the cell, Where comely peace of mind, and decent order dwell.

VIII. A ruffet stole was o'er her shoulders thrown; . A rufset kirtle fenc'd the nipping air ; 'Twas simple russet, but it was her own ; ?Twas her own country bred the fock fo fair ; 'Twas her own labour did the fleece prepare ; And footh to say, her pupils, rang’d around,

Thro' pious awe, did term it passing rare ; · For they in gaping wonderment abound, føround. And think, no doubt, she been the greatest wight on

IX. Albeit

Albeit ne fatt'ry did corrupt her truth,
Ne pompous title did debauch her ear ;
Goody, good-woman, goffip, n’aunt, forsooth,
Or dame, the fole additions she did hear ;
Yet these she challeng'd, these she held right dear :
Ne would esteem him act as mought behove,
Who should not honour'd eld with these revere :

For never title yet so mean could prove,
But there was eke a Mind which did that title love.

One ancient hen she took delight to feed,
The plodding pattern of the busy dame;
Which, ever and anon, impell’d by need,
Into her school, begirt with chickens, came ;
Such favour did her past deportment claim:
And, if Neglect had lavish'd on the ground
Fragment of bread, she would collect the same ;

For well she knew, and quaintly could expound, What sin it were to waste the smallest crumb she found.

. XI. Herbs too she knew, and well of each could speak, That in her garden sipp'd the filv'ry dew; Where no vain flow'r disclos’d a gaudy streak ; But herbs for use, and physic, not a few,


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