Imágenes de página
PDF
ePub

» You stare-but Sirs, I've got it yet, » And can produce it. » (C Pray, Sir, do: » I'll lay my life the thing is blue. »>

« And I'll be sworn that when you've seen » The reptile, you'll pronounce him green ».

» Well then, at once to ease the doubt, » Replies the man, « l'll turn him out: » And when before your eyes I've set him, » If you don't find him black, I'll eat him. » He said; then full before their sight Produc'd the beast, and lo!-'twas white. Both star'd, the man look'd wond'rous wiseMy children,» the Cameleon cries,

«

(Then first the creature found a tongue)
» You all are right, and all are wrong :
>> When next you talk of what you view,
» Think others see as well as you:
» No wonder, if you find that none
» Prefers your eye-sight to his own. »

A

CHA P. XIII.

MERRICK.

The Youth and the Philosopher.

Grecian Youth, of talents rare,
Whom Plato's philosophic care
Had form'd for Virtue's nobler view,
By precepts and example too,

Would often boast his matchles skill,
To curb the steed, and guide the wheel;
And as he pass'd the gazing throng,
With graceful ease, and smack'd the thong,
The idiot wonder they express'd

Was praise and transport to his breast.
At length, quite vain, he needs would shew
His master what his art could do ;

And bade his slaves the chariot lead
To Academus' sacred shade.

The trembling grove confess'd its fright,
The wood-nymphs started at the sight;

The Muses drop the learned lyre,
And to their inmost shades retire.

[ocr errors]

Howe'er the Youth with forward air,
Bows to the sage, and mounts the car:
The lash resounds, the coursers spring,
The chariot marks the rolling ring;
And gath'ring crouds with eager eyes
And shouts pursue him as he flies.
Triumphant to the goal return'd,
With nobler thirst his bosom burn'd;
And now along th' indented plain,
The self-same track he marks again;
Pursues with care the nice design,
Nor ever deviates from the line.

Amazement seiz'd the circling crowd;
The Youths with emulation glow'd;
Ev'n bearded sages hail'd the boy,
And all, but Plato, gaz'd with joy;
For he, deep-judging sage, beheld
With pain the triumphs of the field;
And when the charioteer drew nigh,
And, flush'd with hope, had caught his eye:
Alas! unhappy youth, he cry'd,

Expect no pre from me, (and sigh’d)
With indignation I survey

Such skill and judgment thrown away.
The time profusely squander'd there,
On vulgar arts beneath thy care,
If well employ'd, at less expence,
Had taught thee honour, virtue, sense
And rais'd thee from a coachman's fate,
To govern men and guide the state.

[ocr errors]

WHITEHEAD.

CHA P. XI V..

Sir Balaam..

WHERE London's column, pointing at the skies,

Like a tall bully, lifts the head, and lies :

There dwelt a Citizen of sober fame ?

A plain good man, and Balaam was his name;
Religious, punctual, frugal, and so forth:
His word would pass for more than he was worth.
One solid dish his week-day meal affords,

An added pudding solemniz'd the Lord's :
Constant at Church, and 'Change; his gains were

sure,

His givings rare, save farthings to the poor.

The devil was piqued such saintship to behold, And long'd to tempt him, like good Job of old. But Satan now is wiser than of yore,

And tempts by making rich, not making poor. Rous'd by the Prince of Air the whirlwinds

sweep

The surge, and plunge his Father in the deep;
Then full against his Cornish lands they roar,
And two rich shipwrecks bless the lucky shore.
Sir Balaam now, he lives like other folks,
He takes his chirping pint, and cracks his jokes:
« Live like yourself, was soon my Lady's word;
And lo! two puddings smok'd upon the board.
Asleep and naked as an Indian lay,

An honest factor stole a gem away;

He pledg'd it to the knight; the knight had wit, So kept the di'mond, and the rogue was bit.. Some scruple rose, but thus he cas'd his thought: a I'll now give six-pence where I gave a groat; >> Where once I went to Church, I'll now go >> twice

» And am so clear too of all other vice. >>

མ་

The Tempter saw his time; the work he ply'd; Stocks and subscriptions pour on ev'ry side, 'Till all the Dæmon makes his full descent In one abundant show'r of Cent per Cent; Sinks deep within him, and possesses whole, Then dubs Director, and secures his soul. Behold sir Balaam now a man of spirit, Ascribes his gettings to his parts and merit; What late he call'd a Blessing, now was Wit, And God's good Providence, a lucky Hit. Things change their titles, as our manners turn:

His Compting-house employ'd the Sunday morn :
Seldom at Church ('twas such a busy life)
But duly sent his family and wife.

There (so the Devil ordain'd) one Christmas-tide
My good old Lady catch'd a cold and died.

A Nymph of Quality admires our Knight:
He marries, bows at Court, and grows polite:
Leaves the dull Cits, and joins (to please the fair)
The well-bred cuckolds in St. James's air:
In Britain's Senate he a seat obtains,

And one more Pensioner St. Stephen gains.
My Lady falls to play; so bad her chance,
He must repair it; takes a bribe from France;
The House impeach him; Coningsby harangues;
The Court forsake him, and Sir Balaam hangs.
Wife, son, and daughter, Satan! are thy own,
His wealth, yet dearer, forfeit to the Crown:
The Devil and the King divide the prize,
And sad Sir Balaam curses God and dies.

CHA P. X V.

Edwin and Emma.

FAR in the windings of a vale,

.

Fast by a sheltering wood,

The safe retreat of health and peace,
A humble cottage stood.

There beauteous Emma flourish'd fair
Beneath her mother's eye,

Whose only wish on earth was now
To see her blest, and die.

The softest blush that nature spreads,
Gave colour to her cheek;

Such orient colour smiles thro' heav'n
When May's sweet mornings break.

Nor let the pride of great ones scorn
The charmers of the plains;

That sun which bids their diamond blaze,
To deck our lily deigns.

POPE.

Long had she fired each youth with love,
Each maiden with despair;

And though by all a wonder own'd,
Yet knew not she was fair;

'Till Edwin came, the pride of swains, A soul that knew no art,

And from whose eyes serenely mild,
Shone forth the feeling heart.

A mutual dame was quickly caught,
Was quickly too reveal'd;
For neither bosom lodg'd a wish
Which virtue kept conceal'd.
What happy hours of heartfelt bliss
Did love on both bestow!
But bliss too mighty long to last,
Where fortune proves a foe.
His sister who like envy form'd,
Like her in mischief joy'd,

To work them harm, with wicked skill
Each darker art employ'd.

The father too, a sordid

man

Who love nor pity knew,

[ocr errors]

Was all unfeeling as the rock
From whence his riches grew.

Long had he seen their mutual flame
And seen it long unmov'd;
Then with a father's frown at last,
He sternly disapprov'd.

In Edwin's gentle heart a war

Of differing passions strove;
His heart which durst not disobey,
Yet could not cease to love.

Deny'd her sight, he oft behind

The spreading hawthorn crept, To snatch a glance, to mark the spot Where Emma walk'd and wept. Oft too in Stanemore's wintry waste Beneath the moonlight shade

[ocr errors]
« AnteriorContinuar »