[From Poems, wherein it is attempted to Defcribe certain Views of Nature, and of Ruftic Manners, &c.].

Ο

N village green, whofe fmooth and well worn fod,
Crofs path'd with every gollip's foot is trod

By cottage door where playful children run,
And cats and curs fit bafking the fun:

Where o'er the earthen feat the thorn is bent,
Crofs-arm'd, and back to wall, poor William leant.
His bonnet broad drawn o'er his gather'd brow,
His hanging lip and lengthen'd vifage fhew
A mind but ill at eafe,, With motions ftrange,
His liftlefs limbs their wayward poftures change;
Whilst many a crooked line and curious maze,
With clouted fhoon, he on the fand pourtrays.
The half chew'd ftraw fell flowly from his month:
And to himself low-mutt'ring, fpoke the youth.
"How fimple is the lad! and reft of skill,
"Who thinks with love to fix a woman's will
"Who every Sunday morn, to please her fight,
"Knots up his neck-cloth gay, and hofen white:
"Who for her pleasure keeps his pockets bare,
"And half his wages fpends on pedlar's ware
"When every niggard clown, or dotard old,
"Who hides in fecret nooks his oft told gold,

N4

"Whofe

"Whose field or orchard tempts with all her pride;
"At little coft may win her for his bride;
"Whilft all the meed her filly lover gains
"Is but the neighbours' jeering for his pains.
"On Sunday laft when Sufan's bans were read,
"And I aftonifh'd fat with hanging head,

"Cold grew my fhrinking limbs, and loose my knee,
"Whilft every neighbour's eye was fixed on me.
"Ah, Sue! when last we work'd at Hodge's hay,
"And still at me you jeer'd in wanton play;
"When laft at fair well pleas'd by fhow-man's ftand,
"You took the new-hought fairing from my hand;
"When at old Hobb's you fung that fong fo gay,
"Sweet William ftill the burthen of the lay,
"I little thought, alas! the lots were caft,
"That thou fhould'st be another's bride at laft:
"And had, when Jaft we tripp'd it on the green
"And laugh'd at stiff back'd Rob, fmall thought I ween,
"Ere yet another fcanty month was flown,

"To fee thee wedded to the hateful clown.

"Ay, lucky fwain, more gold thy pockets line;
"But did these fhapely limbs refemble thine,
"I'd ftay at home, and tend the household geer,
"Nor on the green with other lads appear.
"Ay, lucky fwain, no ftore thy cottage lacks,

"And round thy barn thick stand the shelter'd stacks;
"But did fuch, features hard my vifage grace,
"I'd never budge the bonnet from my face.
"Yet let it be: it fhall not break my ease:
"He beft deferves who doth the maiden please,
"Such filly caufe no more fhall give me pain,
"Nor ever maiden crofs my reft again.
"Such grizzly fuitors with their taste agree
"And the black fiend may take them all for, me!"
Now thro' the village rife confufed founds,
Hoarfe lads, and children fhrill, and yelping hounds,
Straight ev'ry matron at the door is feen,
And paufing hedgers on their mattocks lean.
At every narrow lane, and alley mouth,
Loud laughing laffes stand, and joking youth.
A near approaching band in colours gay,
With minstrels blythe before to cheer the way,
From clouds of curling duft which onward fly
In rural splendour break upon the eye.
As in their way they hold fo gayly on,
Caps, beads, and buttons glancing in the fun,
Each village wag, with eye of roguish caft,
Some maiden joys, and vents the ready jeft;
Whilft village toafts the paffing belles deride,
And fober matrons marvel at their pride.

г

But

grace,

But William, head erect, with fettled brow,
In fullen filence view'd the paffing fhew;
And oft' he scratch'd his pate with manful
And fcorn'd to pull the bonnet o'er his face;
But did with fteady look unmoved wait,
Till hindmost man had turn'd the church-yard gate;
Then turn'd him to his cot with visage flat,
Where honeft Tray upon the threshold fat.
Up jump'd the kindly beaft his hand to lick,
And, for his pains, receiv'd an angry kick.
Loud fhouts the flapping door with thund'ring din;
The echoes round their circling courfe begin,
From cot to cot, in wide progreffive fwell,

Deep groans the church-yard wall and neighb'ring dell,
And Tray responsive joins with long and piteous yell.

STANZAS from the ODE for the 14th of July, 1791, the Anniverfary of the Revolution in France. By Robert Merry A. M. Set to Mufic, and fung at the Crown and Anchor Tavern.

[From Curiofities of Literature, &c.]

AH woods for ever dear, whole branches spread

Their verdant arch o'er Hafel's breezy head,

When fhall I once again, fupinely laid,
Hear Philomela charm your lift'ning shade;

L

Where

When shall I stretch my careless limbs again,
Where, gently rifing from the velvet plain,
O'er the green hills, in eafy curve that bend,
The moffy carpet Nature's hands extend ;
Where all is filent! fave the gales that move
The leafy umbrage of the whifp'ring grove;
Or the foft murmurs of the rivulet's wave,
Whofe chearing streams the lonely meadows lave.

O Heav'n! when fhall once more these eyes be caft
On fcenes where all my fpring of life was pafs'd;
Where, oft refponfive to the fallen rill
Sylvia and Love my artlefs lays would fill.

While Zephyr's fragrant breeze, foft breathing, fiole
A pleañug fadnefs o'er my penfive foul

Care, and her ghaftly train, were far away;
While calm, beneath the fheltering woods, I lay
Mid fhades, impervious to the beams of day

Here-fad reverfe! from fcenes of pleasure far,
I wage with forrow unremitting war:
Opprefs'd with grief, my ling ring moments flow,
Nor aught of joy, or aught of quiet, know.
Far from the fcenes that gave my being birth
From parents far, an outcaft of the earth!
In youth's warm hours, from each reftriction free,
Left to myfelf in dangerous liberty. brea

Now pale difeafe fhoots through my languid frame,
And checks the zeal for wifdom and for fame.
Now droops fond Hope, by Difappointment crofs'd;
Chill'd by heglect, each fanguine with is loft.
O'er the weak mound fiern Ocean's billows ride,
And waft deftruction in with every tides
While Mars, defcending from his crimson car,
Fans with fierce hands, the kindling flames of

Ah! icenes of early joy! ah, much-lov'd shades!
Soon may my footsteps tread your vernal glades.
Ah; fhould kind Heav'n permit me to explore
Your feats of still tranquillity once more!
E'en now, to Fancy's vifionary eye,

Hope fhews the flattering hour of tranfport nigh."
Blue fbines the æther, when the ftorm is pass'd;
And calm Repofe fucceeds to Sorrow's blast.
Flourish, ye fcenes of ever new delight!
Wave wide your branches to my raptur'd fight!
While, ne'er to roam again, my wearied feet
Seek the kind refuge of your calm retreat.