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Why should'st thou weep? let Nature judge our HENRY,


I saw thee young and fair ; pursued the chase O wildest thoughts of an abandon's mind !

Of Youth and Beauty: I another saw Name, habit, parents, woman, left behind,

Fairer and younger : yielding to the law Ev'n honour dubious, thou preferr'st to go

Of our all-ruling mother, I pursued Wild to the woods with me : said Emma so ?

More youth, more beauty : blest vicissitude ! Or did I dream what Emma never said?

My active heart still keeps its pristine flame; O guilty errour! and O wretched maid!

The object alter'd, the desire the same. Whose roving fancy would resolve the same

This younger, fairer, pleads her rightful charms; With him, who next should tempt her easy fame;

With present power compels me to her arms. And blow with empty words the susceptible flame.

And much I fear, from my subjected mind, Now why should doubtful terms thy mind perplex? |

(If Beauty's force to constant love can bind,) Confess thy frailty, and avow the sex :

That years may roll, ere in her turn the maid No longer loose desire for constant love [to rove.

Shall weep the fury of my love decay'd; Mistake: but say, 'tis man with whom thou long'st

And weeping follow me, as thou dost now,

With idle clamours of a broken vow.

Nor can the wildness of thy wishes err

So wide, to hope that thou may'st live with hier. Are there not poisons, racks, and flames, and

Love, well thou know'st, no partnership allows : swords, That Emma thus must die by Henry's words ?

Cupid averse rejects divided vows : Yet what could swords or poison, racks or flame,

Then, from thy foolish heart, vain nraid, remove

An useless sorrow, and an ill-starr'd love; But mangle and disjoint this brittle frame! (fame.

And leave me, with the fair, at large in woods to More fatal Henry's words; they murde, Emma's

And fall these sayings from that gentle tongue,
Where civil speech and soft persuasion hung;

Whose artful sweetness and harmonious strain,
Courting my grace, yet courting it in vain,

Are we in life through one great errour led ?
Call'd sighs, and tears, and wishes, to its aid; Is each man perjur'd, and each nymph betray'd ?
And, whilst it Henry's glowing flame convey'd, Of the superior sex art thou the worst ?
Still blam'd the coldness of the Nut-brown Maid? Am I of mine the most completely curst?

Let envious Jealousy and canker'd Spite Yet let me go with thee ; and going prove, Produce my actions to severest light,

From what I will endure, how much I love.
And tax my open day, or secret night.

This potent beauty, this triumphant fair,
Did e'er my tongue speak my unguarded heart This happy object of our different care,
The least inclin'd to play the wanton's part ?

Her let me follow ; her let me attend
Did e'er my eye one inward thought reveal, A servant (she may scorn the name of friend).
Which angels might not hear, and virgins tell ?

What she demands, incessant I'll prepare :
And hast thou, Henry, in my conduct known

I'll weave her garlands; and I'll plait her hair :
One fault, but that which I must never own, My busy diligence shall deck her board,
That I, of all mankind, have lov'd but thee alone? (For there at least I may approach my lord,)

And, when her Henry's softer hours advise

His servant's absence, with dejected eyes

Far I'll recede, and sighs forbid to rise. Vainly thou talk'st of loving me alone :

Yet, when increasing grief brings slow disease, Each man is man; and all our sex is one.

And ebbing life, on terms severe as these, False are our words, and fickle is our mind : Will have its little lamp no longer fed; Nor in Love's ritual can we ever find

When Henry's mistress shows him Emma dead; Vows made to last, or promises to bind.

Rescue my poor remains from vile neglect, By Nature prompted, and for empire made, With virgin honours let my hearse be deckt, Alike by strength or cunning we invade :

And decent emblem ; and at least persuade When, arm'd with rage, we march against the foe, This happy nymph, that Emma may be laid · We lift the battle-axe, and draw the bow :

Where thou, dear author of my death, where she, When, fir'd with passion, we attack the fair, With frequent eye my sepulchre may see. Delusive sighs and brittle vows we bear;

The nymph amidst her joys may haply breathe
Our falsehood and our arms have equal use; One pious sigh, reflecting on my death,
As they our conquest or delight produce.

And the sad fate which she may one day prove,
The foolish heart thou gav'st, again receive, Who hopes from Henry's vows eternal love.
The only boon departing love can give.

And thou forsworn, thou cruel, as thou art,
To be less wretched, be no longer true;

If Emma's image ever touch'd thy heart; (tear What strives to fly thee, why should'st thou pursue ? Thou sure must give one thought, and drop one Forget the present flame, indulge a new;

To her, whom love abandon'd to despair;
Single the loveliest of the amorous youth:

To her, who, dying, on the wounded stone
Ask for his vow; but hope not for his truth. Bid it in lasting characters be known,
The next man (and the next thou shalt believe) That, of mankind, she lov'd but thee alone.
Will pawn his gods, intending to deceive;
Will kneel, implore, persist, o'ercome, and leave.

Hence let thy Cupid aim his arrows right;
Be wise and false, shun trouble, seek delight: | Hear, solemn Jove ; and conscious Venus, hear :
Change thou the first, nor wait thy lover's Aigbt. | And thou, bright maid, believe me whilst I swear:
No time, no change, no future flame, shall move | Nor happiness can I, nor misery feel,
The well-plac'd basis of my lasting love.

From any turn of her fantastic wheel :
O powerful virtue ! O victorious fair!

Friendship's great laws, and Love's superior powers, At least, excuse a trial too severe :

Must mark the colour of my future hours. Receive the triumph, and forget the war.

From the events which thy commands create No banish'd man, condemn'd in woods to rove, I must my blessings or my sorrows date; Entreats thy pardon, and implores thy love : And Henry's will must dictate Emma's fate. No perjur'd knight desires to quit thy arms,

Yet, while with close delight and inward pride Fairest collection of thy sex's charms,

(Which from the world my careful soul shall hide) Crown of my love, and honour of my youth ! I see thee, lord and end of my desire, Henry, thy Henry, with eternal truth,

Exalted ligh as virtue can require; As thou may'st wish, shall all his life employ, With power invested, and with pleasure cheer'd; And found his glory in his Emma's joy.

Sought by the good, by the oppressor fear'd ; In me behold the potent Edgar's heir,

Loaded and blest with all the affluent store, Illustrious earl : him terrible in war

Which human vows at smoking shrines implore ; Let Loyre confess, for she has felt his sword, Grateful and humble grant me to employ And trembling fled before the British lord.

My life subservient only to thy joy ; Him great in peace and wealth fair Deva knows; And at my death to bless thy kindness shown For she amidst his spacious meadow's flows; To her, who of mankind could love but thee alone. Inclines her urn upon his fatten'd lands; And sees his numerous herds imprint her sands. WHILE thus the constant pair alternate said, And thou, my fair, my dove, shalt raise thy Joyful above them and around them play'd thought

| Angels and sportive Loves, a numerous crowd; To greatness next to empire : shalt be brought Smiling they clapt their wings, and low they bow'd : With solemn pomp to my paternal seat;

They tumbled all their little quivers o'er, Where peace and plenty on thy word shall wait. To choose propitious shafts, a precious store ; Music and song shall wake the marriage-day: That, when their god should take his future darts, And, whilst the priests accuse the bride's delay, To strike (however rarely) constant hearts, Myrtles and roses shall obstruct her way.

His happy skill might proper arms employ, Friendship shall still thy evening feasts adorn; All tipt with pleasure, and all wing'd with joy : And bloorning Peace shall ever bless thy morn. And those, they vow'd, whose lives should imitate Succeeding years their happy race shall run, These lovers' constancy, should share their fate. And Age, unheeded, by delight come on:

The queen of beauty stopt her bridled doves; While yet superior Love shall mock his power : Approv'd the little labour of the Loves ; And when old Time shall turn the fated hour, Was proud and pleas'd the mutual vow to hear; Which only can our well-tied knot unfold,

And to the triumph call'd the god of war : What rests of both, one sepulchre shall hold. Soon as she calls, the god is always near.

Hence then for ever from my Emma's breast, “ Now, Mars,” she said, “ let Fame exalt her (That heaven of softness, and that seat of rest,)

voice: Ye doubts and fears, and all that know to move Nor let thy conquests only be her choice : Tormenting grief, and all that trouble love,

But, when she sings great Edward from the field Scatter'd by winds recede, and wild in forests rove. Return'd, the hostile spear and captive shield

In Concord's temple hung, and Gallia taught to EMMA.

And when as prudent Saturn shall complete O day, the fairest sure that ever rose !

The years design'd to perfect Britain's state, Period and end of anxious Emma's woes !

The swift-wing d power shall take her trump again, Sire of her joy, and source of her delight;

To sing her favourite Anna's wondrous reign; 0! wing'd with pleasure, take thy happy flight, To recollect unweary'd Marlborough's toils, And give each future morn a tincture of thy white. Old Rufus' hall unequal to his spoils; Yet tell thy votary, potent queen of love,

The British soldier from his high command Henry, my Henry, will he never rove?

Glorious, and Gaul thrice vanquish'd by his hand : Will he be ever kind, and just, and good ?

Let her, at least, perform what I desire ;
And is there yet no mistress in the wood ?

With second breath the vocal brass inspire ;
None, none there is; the thought was rash and vain; And tell the nations, in no vulgar strain,
A false idea, and a fancy'd pain.

What wars I manage, and what wreaths I gain. Doubt shall for ever quit my strengthen'd heart, And, when thy tumults, and thy fights are past; And anxious jealousy's corroding smart;

And when thy laurels at my feet are cast ; Nor other inmate shall inhabit there,

Faithful mayst thou, like British Henry, prove : But soft Belief, young Joy, and pleasing Care. And, Emma-like, let me return thy love. Hence let the tides of plenty ebb and How,

“ Renown'd for truth, let all thy sons appear; And Fortune's various gale unheeded blow. And constant beauty shall reward their care." If at my feet the suppliant goddess stands,

Mars smil'd, and bow'd : the Cyprian deity And sheds her treasure with unweary'd hands; Turn'd to the glorious ruler of the sky; Her present favour cautious I'll embrace

“ And thou," she smiling said, “great god of days And not unthankful use the proffer'd grace : And verse, behold my deed, and sing my praise; If she reclaims the temporary boon,

As on the British earth, my favourite isle, ind tries her pinions, fluttering to be gone; Thy gentle rays and kindest influence smile, Becure of mind, I'll obviate her intent,

Through all her laughing fields and verdant groves, And unconcern'd return the goods she lent. Proclaim with joy these memorable loves.

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From every annual course let one great day

The eyes might have conspir'd her ruin, To celebrated sports and floral play

And she not known what they were doing. Be set aside ; and, in the softest lays

Foolish it had been, and unkind, Of thy poetic sons, be solemn praise

That they should see, and she be blind. And everlasting marks of honour paid

« Wise Nature likewise, they suppose, To the true lover, and the Nut-brown Maid.”

Has drawn two conduits down our nose :
Could Alma else with judgment tell
When cabbage stinks, or roses smell?
Or who would ask for her opinion
Between an oyster and an onion ?

For from most bodies, Dick, you know,

Some little bits ask leave to flow;

And, as through these canals they roll,

Bring up a sample of the whole;

Like footmen running before coaches, THE PROGRESS OF THE MIND. To tell the inn what lord approaches.

“ By nerves about our palate plac'd, IN THREE CANTOS.

She likewise judges of the taste.

Else (dismal thought!) our warlike men Itávragónws, xri záytu xóvis, mai rústa tò pendiye Might drink thick port for fine champagne ; Πάντα γάρ εξ αλόγων εστι τα γιγνόμενα.

And our ill-judging wives and daughters
Incert. ap. Stobæum.

Mistake small-beer for citron-waters.

“ Hence, too, that she might better hear Casto I.

She sets a drum at either ear :

And, loud or gentle, harsh or sweet, MATTHEW met Richard +, when or where

Are but th' alarums which they beat. From story is not mighty clear :

“ Last, to enjoy her sense of feeling, Of many knotty points they spoke,

(A thing she much delights to deal in,) And pro and con by turns they took.

A thousand little nerves she sends Rats half the manuscript have eat:

Quite to our toes and fingers' ends; Dire hunger! which we still regret.

And these, in gratitude, again O! may they ne'er again digest

Return their spirits to the brain; The horrours of so sad a feast !

In which their figure being printed, Yet less our grief, if what remains,

(As just before, I think, I hinted,) Dear Jacob ř, by thy care and pains

Alma, inform’d, can try the case, Shall be to future times convey'd.

As she had been upon the place. It thus begins :

“ Thus, while the judge gives different journies . . . . . Here Matthew said,

To country council and attornics, “ Alma in verse, in prose the Mind,

He on the bench in quiet sits, By Aristotle's pen defin'd,

Deciding, as they bring the writs. Throughout the body, squat or tall,

The pope thus prays and sleeps at Rome, Is, bona fide, all in all.

And very seldom stirs from home : And yet, slap-dash, is all again

Yet, sending forth his holy spies, In every sinew, nerve, and vein :

And having heard what they advise, Runs here and there, like Hamlet's ghost;

He rules the church's blest dominions, While every where she rules the roast.

And sets men's faith by bis opinions. “ This system, Richard, we are told,

“ The scholars of the Stagyrite, The men of Oxford firinly hold.

Who for the old opinion fight, The Cambridge wits, you know, deny

Would make their modern friends confess With ipse dixit to comply.

The difference but froin more to less. They say, (for in good truth they speak

The Mind, say they, while you sustain With small respect of that old Greek,)

To hold her station in the brain; That, putting all his words together,

You grant, at least, she is extended : "Tis three blue beans in one blue bladder,

Ergo the whole dispute is ended. “ Alma, they strenuously maintain,

For, till to-morrow should you plead, Sits cock-horse on her throne, the brain;

From form and structure to the head, And from that seat of thought dispenses

The Mind as visibly is seen Her sovereign pleasure to the senses.

Extended through the whole machine. Two optic nerves, they say, she ties,

Why should all honour then be ta'en Like spectacles, across the eyes;

From lower parts to load the brain, By which the spirits bring her word,

When other limbs, we plainly see, Whene'er the balls are fix'd or stirr'd,

Each in his way as brisk as he ? How quick at park and play they strike;

For music, grant the head receive it, The duke they court; the toast they like;

It is the artist's hand that gave it; And at St. James's turn their grace

And, though the skull may wear the laurel, From foriner friends, now out of place.

The soldier's arm sustains the quarrel. “Without these aids, to be more serious,

Besides, the nostrils, cars, and eyes, Her power, they hold, had been precarious : Are not his parts, but his allies;

Ev'n what you hear the tongue proclaim • Himself. + Mr. Shelton. Tonson. Comes ab origine from thein.

What could the head perform alone,

Still to their size he aim'd his skill : If all their friendly aids were gone?

Else, pr'ythee, who would pay his bill ? A foolish figure he must make;

“ Next, Dick, if Chance herself should vary, Do nothing else but sleep and ake.

Observe, how matters would miscarry : “ Nor matters it, that you can show

Across your eyes, friend, place your shoes ; How to the head the spirits go;

Your spectacles upon your toes : Those spirits started from some goal,

Then you and Memmius shall agree Before they through the veins could roll.

How nicely men would walk, or see. Now, we should hold them much to blame,

“ But Wisdom, peevish and cross-grain'd, If they went back, before they came.

Must be oppos'd, to be sustain'd; “ If, therefore, as we must suppose,

And still your knowledge will increase, They came from fingers, and from toes ;

As you make other people's less. Or teeth, or fingers, in this case,

In arms and science 'tis the same ; Of Num-skul's self should take the place :

Our rival's hurts create our fame. Disputing fair, you grant thus much,

At Faubert's, if disputes arise That all sensation is but touch.

Among the champions for the prize, Dip but your toes into cold water,

To prove who gave the fairer butt, Their correspondent teeth will chatter :

John shows the chalk on Robert's coat. And, strike the bottom of your feet,

So, for the honour of your book, You set your head into a heat.

It tells where other folks mistook : The bully beat, and happy lover,

And, as their notions you confound, Confess that feeling lies all over.

Those you invent get farther ground. « Note here, Lucretius dares to teach

“ The commentators on old Ari. (As all our youth may learn from Creech) stotle ('tis urg'd) in judgment vary : That eyes were made, but could not view,

They to their own conceits have brought Nor hands embrace, nor feet pursue:

The image of his general thought; But heedless Nature did produce

Just as the melancholic eye The members first, and then the use.

Sees fleets and armies in the sky; What each must act was yet unknown,

And to the poor apprentice ear Til all is mov'd by Chance alone.

The bells sound, Whittington, lord-mayor.' “ A man first builds a country-seat,

The conjuror thus explains his scheme; Then finds the walls not good to eat.

Thus spirits walk, and prophets dream; Another plants, and wondering secs

North Britons thus have second-sight; Nor books nor medals on his trees.

And Germans, free from gun-shot, fight. Yet poet and philosopher

“ Theodoret and Origen, Was he, who durst such whims aver.

And fifty other learned men, Blest, for his sake, be human reason,

Attest, that, if their comments find That came at all, though late in season.

The traces of their master's mind, But no man, sure, e'er left his house,

Alma, can ne'er decay nor die : And saddled' Ball, with thoughts so wild,

This flatly t' other sect deny ; To bring a inidwife to his spouse,

Simplicius, Theophrast, Durand, Before he knew she was with child.

Great names, but hard in verse to stand. And no man ever reapt his corn,

They wonder men should have mistook Or from the oven drew his bread,

The tenets of their master's book, Ere hinds and bakers yet were born,

And hold, that Alma yields her breath, That taught them both to sow and knead.

O'ercome by age, and seiz'd by death. Before they're ask'd, can maids refuse ?

Now which were wise? and which were fools? Can" -“ Pray,” says Dick,“ hold in your Muse. Poor Alma sits between two stogls : While you Pindaric truths rehearse,

The more she reads, the more perplext; She hobbles in allernate verse.” —

The comment ruining the text : * Verse," Mat reply'd ; " is that my care ?"

Now fears, now hopes, her doubtful fate : * Go on," quoth Richard, “ soft and fair.”

But, Richard, let her look to that “ This looks, friend Dick, as Nature had Whilst we our own affairs pursue. But exercis'd the salesman's trade ;

“ These different systems, old or new, As if she haply had sat down,

A man with half an eye may see, And cut out clothes for all the town;

Were only form'd to disagree. Then sent them out to Monmouth-street,

Now, to bring things to fair conclusion, To try what persons they would fit.

And save much Christian ink's effusion, But every free and licens'd taylor

Let me propose an healing scheme, Would in this thesis find a failure.

And sail along the middle stream; Should whims like these his head perplex,

For, Dick, if we could teconcile How could he work for either sex?

Old Aristotle with Gassendus, His clothes, as atoms might prevail,

How many would admire our toil! Might fit a pismire, or a whale.

And yet how few would comprehend us! No, no: he views with studious pleasure

“ Here, Richard, let my scheme commence ; Your shape, before he takes your measure.

Oh! may my words be lost in sense! For real Kate he made the bodice,

While pleas'a Thalia deigns to write And not for an ideal goddess.

The slips and bounds of Alma's fight. No errour near his shop-board lurk'd;

“ My simple system shall suppose He knew the folks for whom he work'd :

That Alma enters at the toes;

That then she mounts by just degrees

In dying accents he complains Up to the ancles, legs, and knees;

Of cruel fires, and raging pains. Next, as the sap of life does rise,

The nymph too longs to be alone, She lends her vigour to the thighs;

Leaves all the swains, and sighs for one. And all these under-regions past,

The nymph is warm'd with young desire, She nestles somewhere near the waist;

And feels, and dies to quench his fire. Gives pain or pleasure, grief or laughter,

They meet each evening in the grove; As we shall show at large hereafter.

Their parley but augments their love : Mature, if not improv'd by time,

So to the priest their case they tell : Up to the heart she loves to climb;

He ties the knot; and all goes well. From thence, compell’d by craft and age,

“ But, U my Muse, just distance keep ;. She makes the head her latest stage.

Thou art a maid, and must not pcep. “ From the feet upward to the head”

In nine months time, the bodice loose, “ Pithy and short," says Dick, “ proceed." And petticoats too short, disclose “ Dick, this is not an idle notion :

That at this age the active mind Observe the progress of the motion.

About the waist lies most confin'd; First, I demonstratively prove,

And that young life and quickening sense That feet were only made to move;

Spring from his influence darted thence. And legs desire to come and go,

So from the middle of the world For they have nothing else to do.

The Sun's prolific rays are hurl'd: “ Hence, long before the child can crawl, 'Tis from that seat he darts those beams, He learns to kick, and wince, and sprawl:

Which quicken Earth with genial flames." To hinder which, your midwife knows

Dick, who thus long had passive sat, To bind those parts extremely close ;

Here strok'd his chin, and cock'd his hat; Lest Alma, newly enter'd in,

Then slapp'd his hand upon the board, And stunn'd at her own christening's din,

And thus the youth put in his word. Fearful of future grief and pain,

“ Love's advocates, sweet sir, would find him Should silently sneak out again.

A higher place than you assign'd him." Full piteous seems young Alma's case ;

“Love's advocates! Dick, who are those ?" As in a luckless gamester's place,

“ The poets, you may well suppose. She would not play, yet must not pass.

I'm sorry, sir, you have discarded “ Again; as she grows something stronger, The men with whom till now you herded. And master's feet are swath'd no longer,

Prose-men alone, for private ends, If in the night too oft he kicks,

I thought, forsook their ancient friends. Or shows his loco-molive tricks;

In cor stillavit, cries Lucretius; These first assaults fat Kate repays him ;

If he may be allow'd to teach us. When half asleep, she overlays him.

The self-same thing soft Ovid says, “ Now mark, dear Richard, from the age (A proper judge in such a case,) That children tread this worldly stage,

Horace's phrase is, torret jecur ; Broom-staff or poker they bestride,

And happy was that curious speaker. And round the parlour love to ride;

Here Virgil too has plac'd this passion. Till thoughtful father's pious care

What signifies too long quotation ? Provides his brood, next Smithfield Fair,

In ode and epic, plain the case is, With supplemental hobby-horses :

That Love holds one of these two places." And happy be their infant courses !

“ Dick, without passion or reflection, “ Hence for some years they ne'er stand still : I'll straight demolish, this objection. Their legs, you see, direct their will;

“ First, poets, all the world agrees, From opening morn till setting sun,

Write half to profit, half to please. Around the fields and woods they run;

Matter and figure they produce ; They frisk, and dance, and leap, and play,

For garnish this, and that for use ; Nor heed what Freind or Snape can say.

And in the structure of their feasts, " To her next stage as Alma flies,

They seek to feed and please their guests : And likes, as I have said, the thighs,

But one may balk this good intent, With sympathetic power she warms

And take things otherwise than meant. Their good allies and friends, the arms;

Thus, if you dine with my lord-mayor, While Betty dances on the green,

Roast-beef and venison is your fare ; And Susan is at stool-ball seen;

Thence you proceed to swan and bustard, While John for nine-pins does declare,

And persevere in tart and custard : And Roger loves to pitch the bar :

But tulip-leaves and lemon-peel Both legs and arms spontaneous move;

Help only to adorn the meal ; Which was the thing I meant to prove.

And painted flags, superb and neat, " Another motion now she makes :

Proclaim you welcome to the treat. 0, need I name the seat she takes ?

The man of sense his meat devours, His thought quite chang'd the stripling finds; But only smells the peel and flowers; The sport and race no more he minds;

And he must be an idle dreamer, Neglected Tray and pointer lie,

Who leaves the pie, and gnaws the streamer. And covies unmolested fly.

“ That Cupid goes with bow and arrows, Sudden the jocund plain he leaves,

And Venus keeps her coach and sparrows, And for the nymph in secret grieves.

Is all hut emblem, to acquaint one,
The son is sharp, the mother wanton.

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