Nor could he like his present place, He ne'er lov'd water in his days. At length he takes a second bout, Enough to turn him inside out: With vehemence so sore he strains, As would have split another's brains. "Ah! here the Cobbler comes, I swear!" And truth it was, for he was there; And, like a rude ill-manner'd clown, Kick'd, with his foot, the vomit down. The patient, now grown wond'rous light, Whipt off the napkin from his sight; Briskly lift up his head, and knew The breeches and the jerkin's hue; And smil'd to hear him grumbling say, As down the stairs he ran away, He'd ne'er set foot within his door, And jump down open throats no more: No, while he liv'd, he'd ne'er again Run, like a fox, down the red lane. Our patient thus (his inmate gone) Cured of the crotchets in his crown, Joyful, his gratitude expresses, With thousand thanks and hundred pieces; And thus, with much of pains and cost, Regain'd the health-he never lost. THOMAS WARTON. BORN 1687.-DIED 1745. THOMAS WARTON, the elder, father of Joseph and Thomas Warton, was of Magdalen College, Oxford, vicar of Basingstoke and Cobham, and twice chosen Poetry Professor. RETIREMENT. AN ODE. ON beds of daisies idly laid, In Joy, rose-lipt dryad, loves to dwell While beauty, health, and innocence, Not fresco'd roofs, not beds of state, Nymphs of the groves, in green array'd, Where haunts the lonesome nightingale ; Oh, virtue's nurse, retired queen, Where slaves and madmen, young and old, Meet to adore some calf of gold? VERSES WRITTEN A FTER SEEING WINDSOR CASTLE. FROM beauteous Windsor's high and story'd halls, AN AMERICAN LOVE ODE. FROM THE SECOND VOLUME OF MONTAIGNE'S ESSAYS. STAY, stay, thou lovely, fearful snake, Then ages hence, when thou no more Thy copy'd beauties shall be seen; THOMAS SOUTHERN Was born in Dublin, in the year 1660, and died in 1746. FROM THE TRAGEDY OF ISABELLA. ACT IV. SCENE II. Isabella meeting with Biron after her marriage with Villeroy. Enter Nurse. Nurse. MADAM, the gentleman's below. Isabella. I had forgot; pray let me speak with him. [Exit Nurse, This ring was the first present of my love To Biron, my first husband; I must blush To think I have a second. Biron died (Still to my loss) at Candy; there's my hope. Oh, do I live to hope that he died there? It must be so: he's dead, and this ring left [BIRON introduced-Nurse retires. That's all I have to trust to |