MARY GULLIVER TO LEMUEL GULLIVER. 377

spouses:

At early morn I to the market haste (Studious in ev'ry thing to please thy taste); A curious fowl and 'sparagus I chose, (For I remember you were fond of those); Three shillings cost the first, the last seven groats; Sullen you turn from both, and call for oats. Others bring goods and treasure to their houses, Something to deck their pretty babes and My only token was a cup like horn, That's made of nothing but a lady's corn. 'Tis not for that I grieve; no, tis to see The groom and sorrel mare preferr'd to me! These, for some moments when you deign to quit, And, at due distance sweet discourse admit, 'Tis all my pleasure thy past toil to know; For pleas'd remembrance builds delight on wo. At ev'ry danger pants thy consort's breast, And gaping infants squall to hear the rest. How did I tremble, when by thousands bound, I saw thee stretch'd on Lilliputian ground! When scaling armies climb'd up every part, Each step they trod I felt upon my heart. But when thy torrent quench'd the dreadful blaze, King, queen, and nation staring with amaze, Full in my view how all my husband came! And what extinguish'd theirs, increas'd my flame. Those spectacles, ordain'd thine eyes to save, Were once my present; love that armour gave. How did I mourn at Bolgolam's decree! For, when he sign'd thy death, he sentenc'd me. When folks might see thee all the country round For sixpence, I'd have given a thousand pound. Lord! when the giant babe that head of thine Got in his mouth, my heart was up in mine! When in the marrow-bone I see thee ramm'd, Or on the house-top by the monkey cramm'd,

The piteous images renew my pain,
And all thy dangers I weep o'er again.
But on the maiden's nipple when you rid,
Pray heaven, 'twas all a wanton maiden did!
Glumdalclitch too!-with thee I mourn her case:
Heaven guard the gentle girl from all disgrace!
may the king that one neglect forgive,
And pardon her the fault by which I live!
Was there no other way to set him free?
My life, alas! I fear prov'd death to thee.

flame!

O teach me, dear, new words to speak my
Teach me to woo thee by the best lov'd name!
Whether the style of Grildrig please thee most,
So call'd on Brobdingnag's stupendous coast,
When on the monarch's ample hand you sate,
And halloo'd in his ear intrigues of state;
Or Quinbus Flestrin more endearment brings,
When like a mountain you look'd down on kings:
If ducal Nardac, Lilliputian peer,

Or Glumglum's humbler title sooth thine ear:
Nay, would kind Jove my organs so dispose,
To hymn harmonious Houyhnhnm thro' the nose,
I'd call thee Houyhnhnm, that high-sounding name;
Thy children's noses all should twang the same.
So might I find my loving spouse of course
Endued with all the virtues of a horse.

TO

QUINBUS FLESTRIN,

THE MAN-MOUNTAIN.

A LILLIPUTIAN ODE.

IN amaze
Lost I gaze!
Can our eyes
Reach thy size!
May my lays
Swell with praise,
Worthy thee!
Worthy me!

Muse, inspire

All thy fire!
Bards of old
Of him told,

When they said
Atlas' head

Propp'd the skies:

See! and believe your eyes!

See him stride

Vallies wide,

Over woods,

Over floods!

When he treads,
Mountains heads

Groan and shake:

Armies quake;

Lest his spurn
Overturn

Man and steed:
Troops take heed!

Left and right,
Speed your flight!

Lest a host

Beneath his foot be lost!

Turn'd aside

From his hide

Safe from wound,
Darts rebound.
From his nose

Clouds he blows:

When he speaks,
Thunder breaks!

When he eats,
Famine threats!

When he drinks,
Neptune shrinks!
Nigh thy ear,
In mid air,

On thy hand

Let me stand;

So shall I,

Lofty poet! touch the sky.

A GENTLE ECHO ON WOMAN.

IN THE DORIC MANNER.

[These verses were supposed, by the late Mr Reed, to have been written either in imitation of Lord Sterling's Aurora, or of a scene of the old play, entitled, "The Hog has lost his Pearl." There is a similar scene in Webster's Duchess of Malfy, and every reader must remember the dialogue between the Bearward and Echo in Hudibras.]

SHEPHERD.

ECHO, I ween, will in the woods reply,
And quaintly answer questions: shall I try;

SHEPHERD.

ECHO. Try.

What must we do our passion to express?

SHEPHERD.

ECHO. Press.

ECHо. Before.

How shall I please her who ne'er lov'd before?

SHEPHERD.

What most moves women when we them address?

SHEPHERD.

ECHо. A dress.

Say, what can keep her chaste, whom I adore!

SHEPHERD,

ECHO. A door.

ECHO. Lyaг.

If music softens rocks, love tunes my lyre.

SHEPHERD.

Then teach me, Echo, how shall I come by her?

SHEPHERD.

ECHO. Buy her.

Eсно. Her deer.

When bought, no question, I shall be her dear?

Shepherd.

But deer have horns: how must I keep her under?

SHEPHERD.

ECHO. Keep her under.

ECHо. A-se under.

How shall I hold her, ne'er to part asunder?

SHEPHERD.

But what can glad me, when she's laid on bier?

SHEPHERD.

ECHO. Beer.

What must I do, when woman will be kind?

Eсно. Be kind.