« ZurückWeiter »
TN every town where Tharais rolls his tyde,
A narrow pass there is, with houses low;
Vhere, ever and anon, the stream is ey'd.
And many a boat soft sliding to and fro.
There oft are heard the notes of infant woe,
The short thick sob, lond scream, and shriller
How can ye, mothers, vex your children so?
Some play, some eat, some cack against the wall.
And as they crouches low, for bread and butter
And on the broken pavement, here and there,
Doth many a stinking sprat and herring lie;
A brandy and tobacco shop is near,
And hens, and dogs, and hogs are feeding by;
And here a sailor's jacket hangs to dry.
At every door are sun-burnt matrons seen,
Mending old nets to catch the scaly fry,
How singing shrill, and scolding eft between;
Scolds answer foul-mouth'd scolds; bad neighbour,
hood I ween.
The snappish cur (the passenger's annoy)
Close at my heqj with yelping treble flies;
The whimp'ring girl, and hoarser screaming boy,
Join to the yelping treble, shrilling cries;
The scolding quean to londer notes doth rise,
And her full pipes those shrilling cries confound;
To her full pipes the grunting hog replies;
The grunting hogs alarm the neighbours round.
And curs, girls, boys, and scolds, in the deep base
Hard by a sty, beneath a roof of thatch,
Dwelt Obloqny, who in her early days
Baskets of fish at Billingsgate did watch,!
Cod, whiting, oyster, mackrel, sprat, or plaice: There leani'd she speech from tongues that never cease.
Slander beside her, like a magpie, chatters,
"With Envy (spitting cat), dread foe to peace;
Like a curs'd cur, Malice before her clatters,
And, vexing every wight, tears clothes and all to
Her dugs were mark'd by every collier's hand.
Her mouth was black as bull-dog's at the suit:
She scratched, bit, and spar'd ne lace ne band,
And bitch and rogue her answer was to all;
Nay, e'en the parts of shame by name would call;
Yea, when she passed by or lane or nook,
'Would greet the man who turn'd him to the wall.
And by his hand obscene the porter took,
Kor ever did askance like modest virgin look.
Such place hath Deptford, navy-building town,
Woolwich and Wapping, smelling strong of pitch:
Such Lambeth, envy of each band and gown;
And Twickenham such, which fairer scenes enrich,
Grots, statues, urns, and Jo—n's dog and bitch.
Me village is without, on either side,
All up the silver Thames, or all adown;
Ne Richmond's self, from whose tall front are ey'd
Vales, spires, meandering streams, and Windsor's
OF A LADY SINGING TO HER LUTE.
FAIR charmer, cease, nor make your voice's prize
A heart resign'd the conquest of your eyes:
Well might, alas! that threaten'd vessel fail,
Which winds and lightning both at once assail.
We were too blest with these enchanting lays.
Which must be heavenly when an angel plays:
But killing charms your lover's death contrite,
Lest heavenly music should be heard alive.
Orphens could charm the trees; but thus a tree,
Taught by your hand, can charm no less than he:
A poet made the silent wood pursue,
This vocal wood had drawn the poet too.
ON A FAN OF THE AUTHOR'S DESIGN,
In which was painted the Story of Ccphalus and
Procris, with the Motto, 'Aura veriW
1/"lOME, gentle air!' th' ^olian shepherd said,
w While Procris panted in the secret shade;
* Come, gentle air,* the fairer Delia cries,
While at her feet her swain expiring lies.
Ix,, the glad gales o'er all her beauties stray.
Breathe on her lips, and in her bosom play!
In Delia's hand this toy is fatal found,
Nor could that fabled dart more surely wound;
Both gifts destructive to the givers prove;
Alike both lovers fall by those they love.
Tet guiltless too this bright destroyer lives,
At random wounds, nor knows the wound she gives;
She views the story with attentive eyes,
And pities Prociis, while her lover dies.
FAIN would my muse the flowery treasure sing,
And humble glories of the youthful spring:
Where opening roses breathing sweets diffuse,
And soft carnations shower their balmy dews;
Where lilies smile in virgin robes of white,
The thin undress of superficial light.
And varied, tulips show so dazzling gay,
Blushing in bright diversities of day.
Each painted flow'ret in the lake below
Surveys its beanties, whence its beanties grow;
And pale Narcissus on the bank, in vain
Transformed, gazes on himself again.
Here aged trees cathedral walks compose,
And mount the hill in venerable rows;
There the green infants in their beds are laid,
The garden's hope, and its expected shade.
Here orange trees with blooms and pendants shine,
And vernal honours to their antumn join;
Exceed their promise in their ripen'd store,
Yet in the rising blossom promise more.
There in bright drops the crystal fountains play.
By lanrels shielded from the piercing day:
Where Daphne, now a tree, as once a maid,
Still from Apollo vindicates her shade,
Still turns her beanties from th' invading beam,
'hot seeks in vain for succour to the stream;
The stream at once preserves her virgin leaves,
At once a shelter from her boughs receives,
Where summer's beanty midst of winter stays,
And winter's coolness spite of summer's rays.
WHILE Celia's tears make sorrow bright.
Prond grief sits swelling in her eyes:
The sun, next those the fairest light,
Thus from the ocean first did rise:
And thus through mists we see the sun,
Which else we durst not gaze upon.
These silver drops, like morning dew,
Foretel the fervour of the day:
So from one clond soft showers we view,
And blasting lightnings burst away.
The stars that fall from Celia's eye,
Declare our doom is drawing nigh.
The baby in that sunny sphere
So like a Phaeton appears,
That heav'n, the threaten'd world to spare,
Thought fit to drown him in her tears:
Else might th' ambitious nymph aspire
To set, like him, heaven too on fire.
E. OF ROCHESTER.
SILENCE! coeval with eternity, Thou wert, ere nature's self began to be; 'Twas one vast nothing, all, and all slept fast in thee.
Thine was the sway, ere heaven was form'd or earth,
Ere fruitful thought conceiv'd creation's birth, Or midwife word gave aid, and spoke the infant forth.
Then various elements against thee join'd, In one more various animal combin'd, And fram'd the clamorous race of busy humankind.
The tongue mov'd gently first, and speech was low,
Till wrangling science tanght it noise and show, And wicked wit arose, thy most abusive foe.