The man rose staring, like a stake; But ere he gave the mighty nod, Nor with long streets and longer roads ، What boots his hand, his heart, his head, Were what I gave removed away? Thy part's an idle shape of clay.' 6 Halves, more than halves!' cried honest Care, ، Your pleas would make your titles fair ; You claim the body, you the soul, But I, who join'd them, claim the whole.' Thus with the gods debate began On such a trivial cause as man. And can celestial tempers rage? Quoth Virgil in a later age. As thus they wrangled, Time came by; (There's none that paint him such as I, For what the fabling ancients sung Makes Saturn old when Time was young.) As yet his winters had not shed Their silver honours on his head; He just had got his pinions free From his old sire Eternity. A serpent girdled round he wore, The tail within the mouth, before; By which our almanacs are clear That learned Egypt meant the year. A staff he carried, where on high A glass was fix'd to measure by, As amber boxes made a show For heads of canes an age ago. His vest, for day and night, was pied; A bending sickle arm'd his side; And Spring's new months his train adorn! Known by the gods, as near he draws, Then leaning heard the nice debate, D Till Jove and Earth shall part these two, To Care, who join'd them, man is due.' He said, and sprung with swift career To trace a circle for the year, Where ever since the Seasons wheel, "Tis well,' said Jove; and for consent Thundering he shook the firmament. 'Our umpire Time shall have his way; With Care I let the creature stay: Let business vex him, avarice blind, Let doubt and knowledge rack his mind, Let error act, opinion speak, And want afflict, and sickness break, A FAIRY TALE. IN THE ANCIENT ENGLISH STYLE. IN Britain's isle, and Arthur's days, Edwin, I wis, a gentle youth, His mountain back mote well be said Yet spite of all that Nature did He felt the charms of Edith's eyes, But one Sir Topaz dress'd with art, Edwin, if right I read my song, 'Twas near an old enchanted court, His heart was drear, his hope was cross'd; 'Twas late, 'twas far, the path was lost That reach'd the neighbour-town : With weary steps he quits the shades, Resolved, the darkling dome he treads, And drops his limbs adown. But scant he lays him on the floor, And, trembling, rocks the ground: Now sounding tongues assail his ear, Come prankling o'er the place. But (trust me, gentles!) never yet The country lent the sweet perfumes, Now, whilst he gazed, a gallaut dress'd 'What mortal of a wretched mind, Has here presumed to hide ?' |