Ar length escap'd from ev'ry human eye, ss, the woe, happiest love, I now may give my burthen'd heart relief, But never shall you now behold her more: Oft would the Dryads of these woods rejoice For her despising, when she deigned to sing, The nightingale was mute, In vain I look around, O'er all the well-known ground, We saw the summer sun go down the sky; But those, the gentlest and the best, Whose holy flames with energy divine The virtuous heart enliven and improve, The conjugal and the maternal love. Sweet babes! who like the little playful fawns, Where wont to trip along these verdant By your delighted mother's side, [lawns, Who now your infant steps shall guide? Ah! where is now thehand, whose tender care, To every virtue would have forin'd your youth, And strew'd with flow'rs the thorny ways of truth? O loss beyond repair! O wretched father! left alone, Where were ye, Muses, when relentless Fate Couldnot, alas! your power prolong her date; For whom so oft, in these inspiring shades, Or under Camden'smoss-clad mountains hoar, You open'd all your sacred store; Whate'er your antient sages taught, Your antient bards sublimely thought And bade her raptur'd breast with all your spirit glow? Nor then did Pindus or Castalia's plain, * The Mincio runs by Mantua, the birth-place of Virgil. Nor low'd tomb; But foremost thou, in sable vestment clad, A more impassion'd tear, a more pathetic lay! spoke! Tell how to more than manly sense She join'd the soft'ning influence soft ning Of more than feinale tenderness: [agree How, in the thoughtless days of wealth and joy, Which oft the care of others good destroy; Her kindly-melting heart, The Clitumnus is a river of To every want, and every woe, To guilt itself when in distress, The balm of pity would impart; And all relief that bounty could bestow! E'en for the kid or lamb, that pour'd its life Beneath the bloody knife, [to all. Her gentle tears would fall; Not only good and kind, On Fortune's spile or frown; All pleasing shone; nor ever pass'd In life's and glory's freshest bloom, [tomb. Death came remorseless on, and sunk her to the So, where the silent streams of Liris glide, In the soft bosom of Campania's vale, When now the wint'ry tempests all are Aed, And genial summer breathes her gentle gale, The verdant orange lifts its beauteous head; From ev'ry brauch the balmy flow'rets rise, On ev'ry bough the golden fruits are seen; With odors sweet it fills the smiling skies, The wood-nymphs tend it, and the Idalian queen: But, in the midst of all its blooming pride, A sudden blast from Apenninus blows, Cold with perpetual snows; [and dies. The tender brighted plant shrinks up its leaves, Arise, O Petrarch! from th' Elysian bow'rs, With never-fading myrtles twin'd, And fragrant with ambrosial flow'rs, Where to thy Laura thou again art join'd; Arise, and hither bring the silver lyre, Tun'd by thy skilful hand. To the soft notes of elegant desire, With which o'er many a land Was spread the fame of thy disastrous love; To me resign the vocal shell, Umbria, the residence of Propertius. The Anio runs Through Tibur or or Tivoli, where Horace had a villa, The Meles is a river of Ionia, from whence Homer, supposed to be born on its banks, is called Mellisigenes. クリ The Wisus is a river at Athens, And Would thy fond love his grace to her control, Is every mortal bliss? Then down she sunk despairing upon the drift [loud her wor And, wrung with killing anguish, lamented She kiss'd her babe's pale lips, and laid it by Then cast her eyes to heaven, then bow'd bet head, and died. ed snow, her side; § 97. § 95. The School Mistress. In Imitation of Spenser. SHENSTONE. -Auditæ voces, vagitus et ingens, Infantumque animæ fientes in limine primo. Virg. Ан me! full sorely is my heart forlorn, To think how modest worth neglected lies, While partial Fame doth with her blasts adorn Such deeds alone as pride and pomp disguise; Deeds of ill sort, and mischievous emprize : Lend me thy clarion, Goddess! let me try To sound the praise of merit ere it dies; Such as I oft have chanced to espy, Lost in the dreary shades of dull obscurity. Inev'ryvillage, mark'd with little spire, [fame, Embower'd in trees, and hardly known There dwells, in lowly shade and mean attire, A matron old, whom we School-mistress name; to Who boasts unruly brats with birch to tame : They grieven sore, in piteous durance pent, Aw'd by the pow'r of this relentless dame,. And oft-times, vagaries idly bent, [shent. For unkempt hair, or task unconn'd, are sorely And all in sight doth rise a birchin tree, on Which Learningnearherlittle dome did stow, Whilonte a twig of small regard to see, Tho' now so wide its waving branches flow, And work the simple vassals mickle woe, For not a wind might curl the leaves that [low; But their limbs shudder'd, and their pulse beat And, as they look'd, they found their horror + blew; aghast; Sad servitude! Such comfortless annoy May no bold Briton's riper age e'er taste! Ne superstition clog his dance of joy, Ne vision empty, vain, his native bliss destroy! Near to this dome is found a patch so green, On which the tribe their gambols do display; And at the door impris'ning board is seen, Lest weakly wightsofsmallersizeshouldstray, Eazer, perdie, to bask in sunny day! [sourid, The noises intermix'd, which thence reDo Learning's little tenement betray; Where sits the dame, disguis'd in look pro[around. And eyes hor Fairy throng, and turns her wheel Her cap, far whiter than the driven snow, Emblem right meet of decency does yield ; Herapron dyed in grain, as blue, I trowe, As is the hate-bell that adorns the field: And in her hand, for sceptre, she does wield Tway binchiysprays, with anxious fear entwin'd, found i With dark distrust, and sad repentance fill'd, And stedfast hate, and sharp affliction join'd, And fury uncontrol'd, and chastisement unkind. Few but have kenn'd, in semblance meet pourtray'd, The childish faces of old Æol's train, Libs, Notus, Auster*: these in frowns array'd. How then would fareonearth, or sky, ormain, Were the stern God to give his slaves the rein? And were not she rebellious breasts to quell, And were not she her statutes to maintain, The cot no more, I ween, weredeem'd the cell Where comely peace of mind and decent order dwell. A russet stole was o'er her shoulders thrown; A russet kirtle fene'd the nipping air; "Twas simple russet, but it was her own, 'Twas her own country bred the flock so fait; "Twas her own labor did the fleece prepare, And, sooth to say, her pupils, rang'daround, Thro' pious awe did term it passing rare; For they in gaping wonderment abound, And think, no doubt, she been the greatest wight on ground. Albeit, ne flattery did corrupt her truth; Ne pompous title did debauch her ear; Goody, good-woman, gossip, n'aunt, forsooth, Or dame, the sole additions she did hear; Yet these she challeng'd, these she held right dear; Ne would esteem him act as moughtbehove, Who should not honor'd eld with these revere; For never title yet so mean could prove, But there was ekea mind which did that title love. One antient hen she took delight to feed, The plodding pattern of the busy dame, Which ever and anou, impell'd by need, Into herschool, begirt with chickens, came Such favor did her past deportment claim: And if neglect had lavish'd on the ground Fragment of bread, she would collect the same, For well she new, and quaintly cold expound. she found. What sin it were to waste the smallest crumb Herbs too she knew, and well of each could speak, That in her garden sipp'd the silv'ry dew, no vain flow'r disclos'd a gaudy streak.. Where T But herbs for use and physic not a few, Of grey renown, within those borders grew; The tufted basil, pun-provoking thyme, Fresh baom, and marygold of cheerful hue, The lowly gill, that never dares to climb, And more I fain would sing, disdaining here to rhyme. Yet euphrasy may not be left unsting, Thatgivesdimeyes to wander leagues around; And pungent radish, biting infant's tongue And plantain ribb'd, that heals the reaper wound; * The south-west wind, south, &c. And For she was just, and friend to virtuous lore, And pass'd much time in truly virtuous deed; And in those elfins' ears would oft deplore 'The times when Truth by Popisa rage did bleed, And tortions Death was true Devotion's meed; And simple Faith in iron chains did mourn, That nould on wooden image place her creed; And lawny saints in smould'ring flames did [return. burn: Ah! dearest Lord! forefend thilk days should e'er grac'd, The source of children's and of courtier's pride! [pass'd) Redress'd affronts (for vile affronts there And warn'd them not the fretful to deride, But love each other dear, whatever them betide. Right well she knew each temper to descry, thwart the proud, and the submiss toraise; Some with vile copper prize exalt on high, Andsomeentice with pittance small of praise; And other some with baleful sprig she frays; E'en absent, she the reins of pow'r doth hold, While with quaint arts the giddy crowd she sways; Forewarn'd, iflittle bird their pranks behold, light! And down they drop; appears his dainty skin, Fair as the furry coat of whitest ermilin. O ruthful scene! when from a nook obsure His little sister doth his peril see: All playful as she sate, she grows demure, She finds full soon her wonted spirits flee; She meditates a pray'r to set him free: Nor gentle pardon could this dame deny (If gentle pardon could with dames agree) To her sad grief that swells in either eye, And wrings her so, that all for pity she could die. No longer can she now her shrieks command, And hardly she forbears, thro' awful fear, Torushen forth, and, with presumptuonshand, To stay harsh justice in its mid career. On thee she calls, on thee, her parent dear! (Ah! too remote to ward the shameful blow!) She sees no kind domestic visage near, And soon a flood of tears begins to flow, And gives a loose at last to unavailing woe. Butah! what penhis piteous plight may trace? Or what device his loud laments explain? The form uncouth of his disguised face? The pallid hue that dyes his looks amain? Theplenteous show'rthatdoeshis cheekdistain? When he in abject wise implores thedame, Ne hopeth aught of sweet reprieve to gain; Or when from high she levels well her aim, And, thro' the thatch, his cries each falling stroke proclaim. The other tribe, aghast with sore disma ware, meet, Knowing, Iwist, how each the same may share; Till fear has taught them a performance And to the well-known chest the dame repait, Wheace oft with sugar'd cates she doth 'em greet, Twill whisper in her ear, and all the scene un- And gingerbread y-rare; now, certes, doubly fold, sweet! |