Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB

To fweet repaft th' unwary partridge flies,
With joy amid the fcatter'd harvest lies;
Wandring in plenty, danger he forgets,
Nor dreads the flav'ry of entangling nets.
The subtle dog fcours with fagacious nofe
Along the field, and fnuffs each breeze that blows;
Against the wind he takes his prudent way,
While the strong gale directs him to the prey;
Now the warm fcent affures the covey near,
He treads with caution, and he points with fear,
Then (left fome centry fowl the fraud defcry,
And bid his fellows from the danger fly)
Close to the ground in expectation lies,
Till in the fnare the flutt'ring covey rife.
Soon as the blushing light begins to fpread,
And glancing Phabus gilds the mountain's head,
His early flight th' ill-fated partridge takes,
And quits the friendly fhelter of the brakes:
Or when the fun cafts a declining ray,
And drives his chariot down the western way,
Let your obfequious ranger fearch around,
Where yellow stubble withers on the ground e
Nor will the roving spy direct in vain,
But numerous covies gratify the pain.
When the meredian fun contracts the shade,"
And frifking heifers feek the cooling glade,
Or when the country floats with fudden rains,
Or driving mifts deface the moiften'd plains ; ́
In vain his toils th' unfkilful fowler tries,
While in thick woods the feeding partridge lies.
Nor muft the sporting verfe the gun forbear,
But what's the fowler's be the mufe's care.
See how the well-taught pointer leads the way:
The scent grows warm; he ftops; he fprings the prey;
The flutt'ring coveys from the ftubble rise,

And on swift wing divide the founding skies;
The fcattering lead purfues the certain fight,
And death in thunder overtakes their flight.
Cool breathes the morning air, and winter's hand
Spreads wide her hoary mantle o'er the land;
Now to the copfe thy leffer spaniel take,

Teach him to range the ditch and force the brake;

Not closest coverts can protect the game:
Hark! the dog opens; take thy certain aim;
The woodcock flutters; how he wav'ring flies!
The wood refounds: he wheels, he drops, he dies.
The tow'ring hawk let future poets fing,
Who terror bears upon his foaring wing :
Let them on high the frighted hern furvey,
And lofty numbers paint their airy fray.
Nor fhall the mountain lark the muse detain,
That greets the morning with his early strain ;
When, 'midft his fong, the twinkling glafs betrays,
While from each angle flash the glancing rays,
And in the fun the tranfient colours blaze :
Pride lures the little warbler from the skies,
The light enamour'd bird deluded dies.

;

But ftill the chafe, a pleasing task, remains The hound muft open in these rural strains. Soon as Aurora drives away the night, And edges eaftern clouds with roly light, The healthy huntsman, with a chearful horn, Summons the dogs, and greets the dappled morn; The jocund thunder wakes th' enliven'd hounds, They roufe from fleep, and answer founds for founds; Wide through the furzy field their route they take, Their bleeding bofoms force the thorny brake: The flying game their fmoaking noftrils trace, No bounding hedge obftructs their eager pace; The diftant mountains echo from afar, And hanging woods refound the flying war: The tuneful noise the sprightly courfer hears, Paws the green turf, and pricks his trembling ears; The flacken'd rein now gives him all his fpeed, Back flies the rapid ground beneath the fteed Hills, dales, and forefts far behind remain, While the warm fcent draws on the deep-mouth'd train, Where shall the trembling hair a fhelter find? Hark! death advances in each gust of wind! New ftratagems and doubling wiles she tries, Now circling turns, and now at large fhe flies; Till spent at laft, fhe pants and heaves for breath, Then lays her down, and waits devouring death.

d;

We cannot part from Mr. Gay without taking fome notice of his Trivia, or Art of Walking the Streets; a didactic poem of the burlesque kind, which he has heighten'd and made entertaining, by many diverting fictions, fimilies, digreffions and defcriptions, very poetically and artfully introduced. Of these the following fable, by which he accounts for the rife of the Patten, is finely conceived.

Good housewives all the winter's rage defpife,
Defended by the riding-hood's disguise:
Or underneath th' umbrella's oily shed,
Safe through the wet on clinking pattens tread.
Let Perfian dames th' umbrella's ribs display,
To guard their beauties from the funny ray;
Or fweating flaves fupport the fhady load,
When eastern monarchs fhow their state abroad;
Britain in winter only knows its aid,

To guard from chilly fhow'rs the walking maid.
But, O! forget not, mufe, the patten's praife,
That female implement fhall grace thy lays
Say from what art divine th' invention came,
And from its origin deduce its name.

Where Lincoln wide extends her fenny soil,
A goodly yeoman liv'd grown white with toil:
One only daughter bleft his nuptial bed,
Who from her infant hand the poultry fed:
Martha (her
er careful mother's name) the bore,
But now her careful mother was no more.
Whilft on her father's knee the damfel play'd,
Patty he fondly called the fmiling maid;
As years increas'd, her ruddy beauty grew,
And Patty's fame o'er all the village flew.
Soon as the grey-ey'd morning ftreaks the skies,
And in the doubtful day the woodcock flies,
Her cleanly pail the pretty housewife bears,
And finging to the distant field repairs :

And when the plains with ev'ning dews are spread,
The milky burden fmokes upon her head,
Deep, thro' a miry-lane the pick'd her way,
Above her ancle rofe the chalky clay.

Vulcan by chance the blooming maiden fpies,
With innocence and beauty in her eyes,

He saw, he lov'd, for yet he ne'er had known
Sweet innocence and beauty meet in one.
Ah Mulciber! recal thy nuptial vows,
Think on the graces of thy Paphian spouse,
Think how her eyes dart inexhausted charms,
And canft thou leave her bed for Patty's arms?
The Lemnian power forfakes the realms above,
His bofom glowing with terrestrial love :
Far in the lane a lonely hut he found,
No tenant ventur'd on th' unwholesome ground.
Here fmokes his forge, he bares his finewy arm,
And early strokes the founding anvil warm:
Around his fhop the fteely fparkles flew,
As for the steed he shap'd the bending fhoe.
When blue-ey'd Patty near his window came,
His anvil refts, his forge forgets to flame.
To hear his foothing tales fhe feigns delays;
What woman can refift the force of praife?
At first she coyly ev'ry kifs withstood,
And all her cheek was flufh'd with modeft blood:
With headless nails he now furrounds her fhoes,
To fave her steps from rains and piercing dews;
She lik'd his foothing tales, his prefents wore,
And granted kiffes, but would grant no more:
Yet winter chill'd her feet, with cold the pines,
And on her cheek the fading rofe declines;
No more her humid eyes their luftre boast,
And in hoarfe founds her melting voice is lost.
This Vulcan faw, and in his heav'nly thought,
A new machine mechanic fancy wrought,
Above the mire her fhelter'd fteps to raise,
And bear her fafely through the wintry ways;
Straight the new engine on the anvil glows,
And the pale virgin on the patten rofe.

[ocr errors]

No more her lungs are fhook with dropping rheums,
And on her cheek reviving beauty blooms.
The God obtain'd his fuit; though flatt'ry fail,
Prefents with female virtue muft prevail.
The patten now fupports each frugal dame,
Which from the blue ey'd Patty takes the name.

[ocr errors]

Another

Another fable, or rather episode, he has inferted, in which, with great humour he employs the heathen Gods and Goddeffes in making materials to fet up a black-shoeboy, who was fon to the Goddess Cloacina, whence the poet derives the origin of that trade; and what makes it yet more droll and diverting, he has gravely introduced it with a ridicule on one of the rules laid down to render thefe fort of poems the more agreeable.

[ocr errors]

What though the gath'ring mire thy feet befmear,
The voice of induftry is always near.

Hark, the boy calls thee to his destin'd stand,
And the shoe shines beneath his oily hand,
Here let the mufe, fatigu'd amid the throng,
Adorn her precepts with digreffive fong;
Of fhirtless youths the fecret rife to trace,
And show the parent of the fable race.

[ocr errors]

Like mortal man, great Jove (grown fond of change)
Of old was wont this nether world to range
To feek amours; the vice the monarch lov'd
Soon through the wide ethereal court improv'd,
And e'en the proudest Goddess now and then
Would lodge a night among the fons of men;
To vulgar deities defcends the fashion,
Each, like her better:, had her earthly paffion.
Then Cloacina (Goddefs of the tide
Whose fable streams beneath the city glide)
Indulg'd the modish flame; the town fhe rov'd;
A mortal scavenger fhe faw, fhe lov'd;
The muddy spots that dry'd upon his face,
Like female patches, heighten'd ev'ry grace:
She gaz'd, the figh'd. For love can beauties spy
In what feems faults to every common eye.

Now had the watchman walk'd his fecond round;
When Cloacina hears the rumbling found
Of her brown lover's cart, for well she knows
That pleafing thunder: fwift the Goddess rofe,
And through the streets purfu'd the diftant noife,
Her bofom panting with expected joys.
With the night-wandring harlot's airs the paft,
Brush'd near his fide, and wanton glances cast;

In

« ZurückWeiter »