An alderman of Cripplegate contriv'd;
And some ascribe th' invention to a priest
Burly and big, and ftudious of his ease.
But, rude at first, and not with easy nope
Receding wide, they prefs'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 foft fettee; one elbow at each end,
And in the midft an elbow, it receiv'd,
United yet divided, twain at once.
So fit two kings of Brentford on one throne;
And fo two citizens who take the air,
Clofe pack'd, and smiling, in a chaise and one.
But relaxation of the languid frame,
By foft recumbency of outstretch'd limbs,
Was blifs referv'd for happier days. So flow
The growth of what is excellent; fo hard
T' attain perfection in this nether world.
Thus firft neceffity invented ftools,
Convenience next fuggefted elbow-chairs,
And luxury th' accomplish'd sora last.
The nurse fleeps sweetly, hir'd to watch the fick,
Whom fnoring she disturbs. As sweetly he
Who quits the coach-box at the midnight hour
To fleep within the carriage more fecure,
His legs depending at the open door.
Sweet fleep enjoys the curate 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 dead,
Nor his who quits the box at midnight hour
To flumber in the carriage more fecure,
Nor fleep enjoy'd by curate in his desk,
Nor yet the dozings of the clerk, are sweet,
Compar'd with the repole the soFA yields..
Oh may I live exempted (while I live
Guiltless of pamper'd appetite obfcene)
From pangs arthritic, that infest the toe
Of libertine excefs. The SOFA fuits
The gouty limb, 'tis true; but gouty limb,
Though on a soFA, may I never feel:
For I have lov'd the rural walk through lanes
Of graffy fwarth, clofe cropt by nibbling sheep,
And fkirted thick with intertexture firm
Of thorny boughs; have lov'd the rural walk
O'er hills, through vallies, and by rivers' brink,
E'er fince a truant boy I pafs'd my bounds
T'enjoy a ramble on the banks of Thames;
And ftill remember, nor without regret
Of hours that forrow fince has much endear'd,
How oft, my flice of pocket flore confum,'d,
Still hung'ring pennylefs and far from home,
I fed on fcarlet hips and ftony haws,
Or blushing crabs, or berries, that imboss
The bramble, black as jet, or floes auftere.
Hard fare! but fuch as boyish appetite
Difdains pot; nor the palate, undeprav’d
By culinary arts, unfav'ry deems.
No SOFA then awaited my return;
Nor SOFA then I needed. Youth repairs
His wafted fpirits 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 spare;
Th' elaftic fpring of an unwearied foot
That mounts the ftile with ease, or leaps the fence
That play of lungs, inhaling and again
Refpiring freely the fresh air, that makes
Swift pace or steep ascent no toil to me,
Mine have not pilfer'd yet; nor yet impair'd
My relish of fair profpect; fcenes that footh'd
Or charm'd me young, no longer young, I find
Still foothing, and of pow'r to charm me still.
And witnefs, dear companion of my walks,
Whose arm this twentieth winter I perceive
Faft lock'd in mine, with pleasure fuch 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 moft fincere,
And that my raptures are not conjur'd up
To ferve occafions of poetic pomp,
But genuine, and art partner of them all.
How oft upon yon eminence our pace
Has flacken'd to a pause, and we have born
The ruffling wind, fcarce confcious that it blew,
While admiration, feeding at the eye,
And ftill unfated, dwelt upon the scene.
Thence with what pleasure have we just difcern'd
The diftant plough flow moving, and befide
His lab'ring team, that fwerv'd not from the track,
The sturdy fwain diminish'd to a boy!
Here Oufe, flow. winding through a level plain
Of fpacious meads with cattle sprinkled o'er,
Conducts the eye along its finuous courfe
Delighted. There, faft rooted in their bank,
Stand, never overlook'd, our fav'rite elms,
That fcreen the herdfman's folitary hut;
While far beyond, and overthwart the stream
That, as with molten glass, inlays the vale,
The floping land recedes into the clouds;
Difplaying on its varied fide the grace
Of hedge-row beauties numberlefs, fquare tow'r,
Tall fpire, from which the found of cheerful bells
Juft undulates upon the lift'ning ear,
Groves, heaths, and (moking villages, remote.
Scenes must be beautiful which, daily view'd,
Please daily, and whofe novelty furvives
Long knowledge and the fcrutiny of years.
Praife juftly due to thofe that I defcribe.
Nor rural fights alone, but rural founds,
Exhilarate the fpirit, and restore
The tone of languid Nature. Mighty winds,
That fweep the skirt of some far-fpreading wood
Of ancient growth, make mufic not unlike
The dash of ocean on his winding shore,
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