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OON as Glumdalclitch miss’d her pleasing care,
She wept, she blubber'd, and she tore her hair. No Brit sh miss fincerer grief has known, Her squirrel missing, or her sparrow flown. She furl'd her sampler, and haul'd-in her thread, 5 And fuck her needle into Grildrig's hed; Then spread her hands, and with a bounce let fall Her baby, like the giant in Guildhall. In peals of thunder now she roars, and now She gently whimpers like a lowing cow: Yet lovely in her sorrow still appears, Her locks dishevel'd, and her flood of tears, Seem like the lofty barn of some rich swain, When from the thatch drips fast a shower of rain.
In vain the search'd each cranny of the house, 15 Each gaping chink impervious to a mouse. “ Was it for this (the cry'd) with daily care “ Within thy reach I set the vinegar; "Andfilld the cruet with the acid tide, “ While pepper-water worms thy bait supply'd,
“ Where twin'd the filver eel around thy hook, < And all the little monsters of the brook ? “ Sure in that lake he dropt : My Grilly 's drown'd." She dragg'd the cruet, but no Grildrig found.
“ Vain is thy courage, Grilly, vain thy boast : “ But little creatures enterprize the most.
Trembling, I've seen thee dare the kitten's paw, - Nav, mix with children as they play'd at taw, “ Nor fear'd the marbles, as they bounding flew : « Marbles to them, but rolling rocks to you.
" Why did I trust thee wi h that giddy youth ! “ Who from a page can ever learn the truth? 66 Vers’d in court-tricks that money-loving boy “ To some loni's daughter fold the living toy; “ Or rent him limb from limb, in cruel play, 35 “ As children tear the wings of Aies away. • From place to place o'er Brobdingnag I 'll roam, “ And never will return, or bring thee home. “ Bui who hathieves to trace the passing wind? - How then thy fairy footsteps can I find ? “ Dost thou bewilder'd wander all alone, “ In the green thicket of a molly stone ; “ Or, tumbled from the toad ool's slippery round, “ Perhaps all maim'd, lie groveling on the ground? " Doft thou imbosom’d in the lovely rose, 45 “ Or funk within the peach's down, repofe? “ Within the king.cup if thy limbs are spread, “ Or in the golden cowlip's velvet head : “ O fhew me, Flora, 'midst those sweets, the flower “ Where sleeps my Grildrig in his fragrant bower! 50
“ But ah! I fear thy little fancy roves « On little females, and on little loves ; * Thy pigmy children, and thy tiny spouse, “ The baby-playthings that adorn thy house, “ Doors, windows, chimneys, and the spacious rooms “ Equal in fize to cells of honeycombs. « Hast thou for these now ventur'd from the shore, “ Thy bark a bean-Shell, and a straw thy oar? “ Or in thy box now bounding on the main ? “ Shall I ne'er bear thyself and house again? « And shall I set thee on my hand no more, “ To see thee leap the lines, and traverse o'er “ My spacious palm? of ftature scarce a span, « Mimic the actions of a real man? “ No more behold thee turn my watch's key, « As seamen at a capstern anchors weigh? “ How wast thou wont to walk with cautious tread, “ A dish of tea, like milk-pail, on thy head ? “ How chace the mite that bore thy cheese away, « And keep the rolling maggot at a bay?”
70 She said; but broken accents stopt her voice, Soft as the speaking-trumpet's mellow noise. She lobb’d a storm, and wip'd her flowing eyes, Which seem'd like two broad suns in misty skies ! Q! squander not thy grief; those tears command
75 To weep upon our cod in Newfoundland : The plenteous pickle shall preserve the filho And Europe taste thy sorrows in a dish.
Can our eyes
TO QUINBUS FLESTRIN,
Left his spurn
Man and steed.
Troops, take heed ! Reach thy fize?
Left and right May my lays
Speed your flight! Swell with praise,
Lest an host Worthy thee!
Beneath his foot be loft. Worthy me!
III. Muse, inspire
Turn'd aside All thy fire!
From his hide, Bards of old
Safe from wound Of him told,
Darts rebound. When they said
From his nose Atlas' head
Clouds he blows ; Propt the skies :
When he speaks,
Thunder breaks !
When he eats,
Famine threats !
When he drinks, Over woods,
Neptune shrinks! Over floods.
Nigh thy ear, When he treads,
In mid air, Mountains heads
On thy hand,
Let me stand,
So shall I
V E R S E S
TO BE PLACED UNDER THE PICTURE
SIR RICHARD BLACKMORE,
CONTAINING A COMPLEAT CATALOGUE OF HIS WORKS.
Who first sang (1) Arthur, then fang (2) Alfred;
(1) Two Heroic Poems, in folio, twenty books. (2) Heroic Poem, in twelve books. (3) Heroic Poem, in folio, ten books. (4) Instructions to Vanderbank, a tapettry-weaver. (5) Hymn to the light. (6) Satire against wit. (7) Of the nature of man. (8) Creation, a Poem, in feren books. . ( Redemption, another Heroic Pocin in fix books.