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ePub and lambkin with black-staring eyes,

parrots with twin cherries in their beak.

Now came the cane from India, smooth and bright With nature's varnish; fever'd into stripes That interlac'd each other, these supplied Of texture firm a lattice-work, that brac'd The new machine, and it became a chair. But restless was the chair; the back erect Distress'd the weary loins, that felt no ease ; The flipp'ry feat betray'd the Niding part That press'd it, and the feet hung dangling down, Anxious in vain to find the distant floor. These for the rich : the rest, whom fate had plac'd. In modest mediocrity, content With base materials, fat on well tann'd hides, Obdurate and unyielding, glaffy smooth, With here and there a tuft of crimson yarn, Or scarlet crewel, in the cushion fix'd; If cushion might be call'd, what harder seem'd Than the firm oak of which the frame was form'da No want of timber then was felt or fear'd In Albion's happy ifle. The umber stood Pond'rous and fix'd by its own maffy weight. But elbows Aill were wanting; these, fome fay,

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An alderman of Cripplegate contriv'd;
And some ascribe th' invention to a priest
Burly and big, and studious of his ease.
But, rude at first, and not with easy flope
Receding wide, they press'd against the ribs,
And bruis'd the fide; and, elevated high,
Taught the rais'd shoulders to invade the ears,
Long time elaps'd or e'er our rugged fires
Complain'd, though incommodiously pent in,
And ill at ease behind. The ladies first
'Gan murmur,

as became the fofter sex.
Ingenious fancy, never better pleas'd
Than when employ'd t'accommodate the fair,
Heard the sweet moan with pity, and devis'd
The soft settee; one elbow at each end,
And in the midst an elbow, it receiv'd,

yet divided, twain at once. So sit two kings of Brentford on one thrones And so two citizens who take the air, Clofe pack'd, and smiling, in a chaise and one, But relaxation of the languid frame, By soft recumbency of outstretch'd limbs, Was bliss reserv'd for happier days. So flow The growth of what is excellent; so hard T'attain perfection in this nether world.

Thus first necessity invented stools;
Convenience next suggested elbow-chairs,
And luxury th’accomplish'd sora laft.

The nurse sleeps sweetly, hit'd to watch the acking Whom snoring she disturbs. As sweetly he Who quits the coach-box at the midnight hour To fleep within the carriage more secure, His legs depending at the open door. Sweet sleep enjoys the corate in his desk, The tedious rector drawling o'er his head; And sweet the clerk below. But neither sleep Of lazy nurse, who fnores the fick man deado Nor his who quits the box at midnight hour To flumber in the carriage more secure, Nor sleep enjoy'd by curate in his desk, Nor yet the dozings of the clerk, are sweets Compar'd with the repofe the sofa yields.

Oh may 1 live exempted (while I live
Guildless of pamper'd appetite obscene)
From pangs arthritic, that infest the toe
Of libertine excess. The sofa suits
The goaty limb, 'tis true; but gouty limb,

on a sofa, may I never feel :
For I have lov'd the rural walk through lapes


Of graffy swarth, clofe cropt by nibbling sheep,
And skirted thick with intertexture firm
Of thorny boughs; have lov'd the rural walk
O'er hills, through valleys, and by rivers' brink,
E’er since a truant boy I pass’d my

T' enjoy a ramble on the banks of Thames;
And still remember, nor without regret,
Of hours that forrow lince has much endear'd,
How oft, my sice of pocket store consum'd,
Still hung'ring, pennyless and far from home,
I fed on scarlet hips and stony haws,
Or blushing crabs, or berries, that imboss
The bramble, black as jet, or floes austere:
Hard fare! but such as boyish appetite
Disdains not; nor the palate, undeprav'd
By culinary arts, unsav'ry deems,
No sofa then awaited my return;
Nor sofa then I needed. Youth repairs
His wasted spirits quickly, by long toil
Incurring short fatigue; and, though our years
As life declines speed rapidly away,
And not a year but pilfers as he goes
Some youthful grace that age would gladly keep;
A tooth or auburn lock, and by degrees
Their length and colour from the locks they fpare;
Th elastic spring of an unwearied foot

That mounts the style with ease, or leaps the fence,
That play of lungs, inhaling and again
Respiring freely the fresh air, that makes

pace or steep ascent no toil to me,
Mine have not pilfer'd yet; nor yet impair’d
My relish of fair prospect; scenes that footh'd
Or charm'd me young, no longer young, I find
Still soothing, and of pow'r to charm me still.
And witness, dear companion of my walks,
Whose arm this twentieth winter I perceive
Fast lock'd in mine, with pleasure such as love,
Confirm'd by long experience of thy worth
And well-tried virtues, could alone inspire-
Witness a joy that thou hast doubled long.
Thou know'st my praise of nature most sincere,
And that my raptures are not conjur'd up
To serve occasions of poetic pomp,
But genuine, and art partner of them all.
How oft

upon yon eminence our pace
Has llacken'd to a pause, and we have borne
The ruffling wind, scarce conscious that it blew,
While admiration, feeding at the eye,
And still unsated, dwelt upon the scene.
Thence with what pleasure have we just discern'd
The distant plough flow moving, and beside
His lab'ring team, that swery'd not from the track,

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