impotence of wit had ta'en. Teffion of my mufe-ftruck brain. had my birth, with fortune fit, rnish'd the dunce, or made the wit; had not held a fhameful place, or letters paid me with difgrace. -O! for a pittance of my own, hat I might live unfought, unknown! etir'd from all this pedant ftrife, r from the cares of butt'ling life;

r from the wits, the fools, the great, nd all the little world I hate.

THE MILK-MAID.

W

́HOE'ER for p'easure plans a scheme,
Will find it vanish like a dream,
Affording nothing found or real,
Where happiness is all ideal;
In grief, in joy, or either ftate,
Fancy will always antedate,

And when the thoughts on evil pore,
Anticipation makes it more.
Thus while the mind the future fees,
It cancels all its prefent ease.

Is Pleasure's fcheme the point in view;

How eagerly we all purfue!

Well-Tuesday is th' appointed day;
How flowly wears the time away!
How dull the interval between,
How darken'd o'er with clouds of fpleen,
Did not the mind unlock her treasure,
And fancy feed on promis'd pleafure.

DELIA furveys, with curious eyes,
The clouds collected in the skies;
Wishes no ftorm may rend the air,
And Tuefday may be dry and fair;
And I look round, my boys, and pray,
That Tuesday may be holiday.
Things duely fettled-what remains ?
Lo! Tuesday comes-alas! it rains;
And all our vifionary schemes
Have died away, like golden dreams,

r

Once on a time, a ruftic dame, (No matter for the lady's name) Wrapt up in deep imagination, Indulg'd her pleafing contemplation; While on a bench fhe took her feat, And plac'd the milk-pail at her feet, Oft in her hand the chink'd the pence, The profits which arofe from thence; While fond ideas fill'd her brain,

Of layings up, and monftrous gain,

Till every penny which the told,

Creative fancy turn'd to gold;

And reasoning thus from computation, She spoke aloud her meditation,

"Please heav'n but to preferve my health, "No doubt I shall have ftore of wealth; "It muft of consequence enfue "Ifhall have ftore of lovers too,

Oh! how I'll break their ftubborn hearts, "With all the pride of female arts.

"What Suitors then will kneel before me. "Lords, Earls, and Viscounts fhall adore me. "When in my gilded coach I ride, "My Lady at his Lordship's fide, "How will I laugh at all I meet "Clatt'ring in pattens down the street! "And LOBBIN then I'll mind no more, "Howe'er I lov'd him heretofore; "Or, if he talks of plighted truth, "I will not hear the fimple youth, "But rife indignant from my feat, "And fpurn the lubber from my feet." Action, alas! the fpeaker's grace, Ne'er came in more improper place, For in the toffing forth her fhoe, What fancied blifs the maid o'erthrew ! While down at once, with hideous fall, Came lovers, wealth, and milk, and all. Thus fancy ever loves to roam, To bring the gay materials home; Imagination forms the dream, And actident deftroys the scheme.

A FAMILIAR EPISTLE.

FROM THE REV. MR. HANBURY'S HORSE,

A

THE REV. MR. SCOT.

MONGST you bipeds, reputation
Depends on Rank and Situation;
And men increafe in fame and worth,
Not from their merits, but their Birth.
Thus he is born to live obfcure,
Who has the fin of being poor;
While wealthy dullness lolls at cafe,
And is as witty as you please.

"What did his Lord/hip fay ?-O! fine! "The very Thing! Bravo! Divine !” And then 'tis buzz'd from Route to Route, While ladies whisper it about, "Well, I proteft, a charming hit! "His Lordship has a deal of wit : "How elegant that double fenfe! "Perdigious! vaftly fine! immenfe !" When all my lord has faid or done, Was but the letting off a pun.

up

Mark the fat Cit, whofe good round fum,
Amounts at leaft to half a Plumb;
Whofe chariot whirls him and down
Some three or four miles out of town;
For thither fober folks repair,
To take the Duft which they call air,
Dull folly (not the wanton wild
Imagination's younger child)
Has taken lodgings in his face,
As finding that a vacant place,
And peeping from his windows, tells
To all beholders, where the dwells.
Yet once a week, this purse-proud cit]
Shall ape the fallies of a wit,

And after ev'ry Sunday's dinner,
To priestly faint, or city finner,
Shall tell the story o'er and`o'er,
H'as told a thousand times before ;

Then, like your heathen idols, we
Have eyes indeed, but cannot fee.
We, for I take the poet's part,
And for my blood, am Bard at heart)
For in reflection deep immerst,
The man mufe-bitten and be-verft,
Neglectful of externals all,
Will run his head against a wall,
Walk, through a river as it flows,
Nor fee the bridge before his nofe.

Are things like these equeftrians fit
To mount the back of mettled tit?
Are-but farewell, for here comes Bob,
And I must serve some hackney job;
Fetch letters, or, for recreation,
Transport the bard to our Plantation.

Roberts joins compts with Burnam Black, Your humble fervant, Hanbury's hack.

What BEROALDUS gravely told;
I read it in that found divine.
And for indecency, you know
He had a fashionable turn,
As prim obfervers clearly thew

In t'other Parfon, Doctor STERNE.
Yet POPE denies it all defence,
And call it, blefs us! Want of fenfe.
But e'en the decent POPE can write

* Of bottles, corks, and maiden fighs,
Of charming beauties lefs in fight,
Of the more fecret precious hair,
It"And fomething else of little Size,
You know where.

If fuch Authorities prevail,

To vanish o'er this petty fin,

I plead a pardon for my tale,

And having hemm'd and cough'd-begin. A Genius (one of those I mean,

We read of in the Arabian nights;

Not fuch as every day are feen

At Bob's or Arthur's, whilom White's ; For how foe'er you change the name,

A TALE.

ATTEMPTED IN THE MANNER OF MR. C.

DENIS.

Labitur&labetur in omne volubilis ærum.

D

EAR WILKES, whofe lively focial Wit
Difdains the prudish Affectation
Of gloomy Folks, who love to fit
As Doctors should at Consultation,
Permit me, in familiar Strain

To steal you from the idle hour
Of combating the NORTHERN THANE,
And all his pupper tools of Pow'r.
Shame to the Wretch, if fenfe of fhame
Can ever touch the mifcreant's breast,
Who dead to virtue as to fame,

(A Monster whom the Gods deteft) Turns traitor to himself. to court,

Or Minifter or Monarch's fmile ; And dares, in infolence of fport,

Invade the CHARTER of our isle. But why should I, who only ftrive By telling of an easy tale,

To keep attention half alive

'Gaint BODGOLAM and FLIMNAP rail? For whether ENGLAND be the name, (Name which w're taught no more to prize) Or BRITAIN, it is all the fame,

The Lilliputian Statesmen rife
To malice of gigantic size.
Let them enjoy their warmth a while,
Truth fhall regard them with a smile.
While you, like GULLIVER, in fport
Pifs out the fire and fave the Court.
But to return-The tale is old;
Indecent, truly none of mine

Nor thofe prodigious learned folks,
Your Haberdashers of ftale Jokes,
Who drefs them up fo neat and clean
For News-paper or Magazine;
But one that could play wond'rous tricks,
Changing the very courfe of Nature,
Not ASMODEUS on two sticks

Or fage URGANDA could do greater.)
Once on a time incog came down
From his equivocal dominions,
And travell'd o'er a country town
To try folks' tempers and opinions.
When to accomplish his intent

(For had the cobler known the king. Lord! it would quite have fpoil'd the thing). In ftrange disguise he flily went And ftump'd along the high-way track, With greafy knapsack at his back; And now the night was pitchy dark, Without one star's indulgent spark, Whether he wanted fleep or not,

Is of no confequence to tell ; A bed and lodging must be got, For genuifes live always well. At the best houfe in all the town,

(It was th' attorney's you may fwear) He knock'd as he'd have beat it down, Knock as you would, no entrance there. But from the window cried the dame, Go, firrah go, from whence you came. Here, Nell, John, Thomas, fee who knocks, Fellow, I'll put you in the stocks. Be gentle ma'am, the Genius cried :

Have mercy on the wand'ring poor, Who knows not where his head to hide,

And asks a pittance at your door. A mug of beer, a cruft of breadHave pity on the houseless head;

Your husband keeps a lordly tables I afk but for the offal crumbs,

*Rape of the Lock. + Pope's Letters.

And for a lodging-barn or ftable
Will shroud me till the morning comes.
"Twas all in vain the rang the bell,
The fervants trembl'd at the knell';
Down Hew the maids to tell the men,
To drive the vagrant back again.
He trudg'd away in angry mind,
And thought but cheaply of mankind,
Till throught a cafement's dingy pane,
A rush light's melancholy ray,

Bad him e'en try his luck again;
Perhaps beneath a houfe of clay
A wand'ring paffenger might find,
A better friend to human kind,
And far more hospitable fare,
Though not fo coftly, nice, or rare,
As fmokes upon the filver plate
Of the luxurious pamper'd great.
So to this cot of homely thatch,
In the fame plight the genius came :
Down comes the dame, lifts up the latch ;
What want ye fir?

God fave you, dame.

And fo he told the piteous tale,

Which you have heard him tell before ; Your patience and my own would fail Were I to tell it o'er and o'er. Suffice it, that my goody's care Brought forth her beft, though fimple fare, And from the corner-cupboard's board, Her ftranger gueft the more to please, Befpread her hofpitable board

With what he had 'twas bread and cheese. "Tis honeft though but homely cheer;

Much good may't do ye, eat your fill. Would I cou'd treat you with ftrong beer, But for the action take the will, You fee my cot is clean though small, Pray heav'n encrease my fiender stock! You're welcome, friend, you fee

all;

my And for your bed, Sir there's a flock.

No matter what was after said,

He eat and drank and went to bed.

And now the cock his mattins fung,

(Howe'er fuch finging's light efteem'd, "Tis precious in the Mufes' tongue

When fung, rhimes better than he fcream'd ;) The dame and pedlar both arofe,

At early dawn of rifing day,
She for her work of folding clothes,
And He to travel on his way;

But much he thought himself to blame.
If, as in duty furely bound,

He did not thank the careful dame
For the reception he had found,
Hotels, quoth He, before I go,
I thank you for your hearty Fare;
Would it were in my pow'r to pay
My gratitude a better way;

But money now runs very low,
And I have not a doit to spare;

But if you'll take this piece of Stuff

-No, quoth the dame, I'm as poor as you,

Your kindeft wishes are enough,

You're welcome, friend, farewell-Adieu.

But first reply'd the wand'ring gueft,
For bed and board and homely dish
May all things turn out for the best,
So take my bleffing and my wish.

May what you first begin to do.
Create fuch profit and delight,
That you may do it all day through,
Nor finish till the depth of night.

Thank you, faid she, and shut the door,
Turn'd to her work, and thought no more,
And now the napkin which was spread
To treat her gueft with good brown bread,
She folded up with nicest care;
When lo another napkin there!
And every folding did beget
Another and another yet.

She folds a fhift-by strange encrease,
The remnant fwells into a piece.
Her Caps, her Laces, all the fame,
Till fuch a quantity of Linen,

From fuch a very fmall beginning,
Flow'd in at once upon the Dame,
Who wond'ted how the deuce it came,
That with the drap'ry she had got
Within her little shabby cot,

She might for all the town provide,
And break both York-street and Cheapfide.
It happen'd that th' attorney's wife,

Who to be fure, took much upon her,
As being one in higher Life,

Who did the Parish mighty honour,
Sent for the Dame, who poor and willing,
Would take a job of charing work,
And sweat and toil like any Turk,
To earn a fixpence or a fhilling.

She could not come, not the indeed!
She thank'd her much but had no need.
Good news will fly as well as bad,

So out this wond'rous ftory came,
About the Pedlar and the Dame,
Which made th' Attorney's wife fo mad,
That the refolv'd at any rate,
Spite of her pride and Lady airs,

To get the Pedlar tete-a-tete,
And make up all the past affairs

And though the wish'd him at the devil
When he came there the night before,
Determin'd to be monftrous civil,
And drop her curtfie at the door.

Now all was racket, noife and pother.
Nell running one way, John another,
And Tom was on the coach-horse fent,
To learn which way the Pedlar went.
Thomas return'd;-the Pedlar brought
-What could my dainty Madam fay,
For not behaving as he ought,
And driving honeft folks away?
Upon my word, it fhocks me much,

-But there's fuch thieving here of late→ Not that I dream'd that you were fuch, When you came knocking at my gate,

I must confefs myself to blame,

And I'm afraid you lately met

Sad treatment with that homely dame,
Who lives on what her hands can get,
Walk in with me at least to-night,
And let us fet all matters right.
I know my duty, and'indeed

Would help a friend in time of need.
Take fuch refreshment as you find,

I'm fure I mean it for the best,

And give it with a willing mind,
To fuch a grave and fober guest.
So in they came, and for his picking,
Behold the table covers spread,

Instead of Goody's cheese and bread,
With tarts, and fish, and flesh, and chicken.
And to appear in greater state,
The knives and forks with filver handles,

The candlesticks of bright (French) plate
To hold her beft mould (tallow) candles.
Were all brought forth to be difplay'd,
In female housewifry parade,

And more the Pedlar to regale,

And make the wond'rous man her friend, Decanters foam'd of mantling ale,

And port and claret without end;

They hobb'd and nobb'd, and smil'd and laugh'd,
Touch'd glaffes, nam'd their toafts, and quaff'd ;
Talk'd over every friend and foe,
Till eating, drinking, talking paft,
The kind houfe-clock ftruck twelve at last,
When withing Madam bon repos,
The pedlar pleaded weary head,
Made his low bow, and want to bed.
Wishing him then at perfect eafe,
A good soft bed, a good found fleep,
Now, gentle reader, if you please,
We'll at the lady take a peep.

She could not reft, but turn'd and tofs'd
While fancy whisper'd in her brain,

That what her indifcretion laft,
*Her art and cunning `might regain.

Such Linen to fo poor a dame!

For fuch coarse fare! perplex'd her head;
Why might not the expect the fame,
So courteous, civil, and wel!-bred ?
And now the reckon'd up her store

Of Cambricks, Hollands, Muflins, Lawns, Free gifts, and Purchases, and Pawns, Refolv'd to multiply them more,

Till fhe had got a Stock of Linen.
Fit for a Dowager to fin in.

The morning came, when up the got,
Moft ceremoniously inclin'd
To wind up her fagacious plot,

With all that civil ftuff we find
'Mongst those who talk a wond'rous deal
Of what they neither mean nor feel.
How fhall I, Ma'm, reply'd the Guest,
Make you a fuitable return,
For your attention and concern,
And fuch civilities exprest

To one, who must be still in debt
For all the kindness he has met?

For this vour eutertainment's fake,
If ought of good my wish can do,

May what you first shall undertake,
Laft without ceafing all day through.
Madam, who kindly understood
His wish effectually good,
Strait dropp'd a curtfie wond'rous low,
For much the wanted him to go,
That the might look up all her ftore,
And turn it into thoufands more.
Now all the maids were fent to look
In every cranny, hole and nook,

For every rag which they could find

Of any fize, or any kind.

Draw'rs, Boxes, Clofets, Chefts and Cafes
Were unlock'd at once to get

Her Point, her Gawz, her Pruffla-net,
With fifty names of fifty kinds,
Which fuit variety of minds.

How shall I now my tale purfue,"
So paffing strange, fo paffing true?
When every bit from every hoard,
Was brought and laid upon the board,
Left fome more urgent obligation
Might interrupt her pleafing toil,

And marting half her application. The promif'd hopes of profit fpoil, Before the folds a fingle rag,

Or takes a cap from board or bag, That nothing might her work prevent, (For fhe was now refolv'd to labour, With earnest hope and full intent

To get the better of her neighbour)
Into the garden fhe would go

To do that neceffary thing,
Which must by all be done, you know,
By rich and poor, and high and low,

By Male and Female, Queen and King;
She little dream'd a common action,
Practis'd as duly as her pray'rs,
Should prove fo tedious a tranfaction,
Or coft her fuch a fea of cares.
In fhort the ftreams fo plenteous flow'd,
That in the dry and dufty weather,
She might have water'd all the road

For ten or twenty miles together..
What could the do? as it began,
Th' involuntary torrent ran.

Inftead of folding Cap or Mob,
So dreadful was this diftillation.
That from a fimple watering job,
She fear'd a general Inundation,

While for her Indifcretion's crime, And coveting too great a store,

She made a river at a time, Which fure was never done before.

A FAMILIAR LETTER OF RHIMES.

Y

TO A LAD T.

ESI could rifle grove and bow'r And strip the beds of every flow'r, And deck them in their faireft hue, Merely to be out blush'd by you. The lilly, pale, by my direction, Should fight the rose for your complexion : Or I could make up fweeteft pofies, Fit fragrance for the ladies' nofes, Which drooping, on your breast reclining, Should all be withering, dying, pining, Which every fongster can display, I've more authorities than GAY; Nay, I could teach the globe its duty all homage to your beauty, And, wit's creative pow'r to fhow, The very fire fhould mix with now; Your eyes, that brandish burning darts To fcorch and finge our tinder hearts,

To pay