When bold Sir Plume had drawn Clar

issa down,

Chloe stepped in and killed him with a frown;

She smiled to see the doughty hero slain, But, at her smile, the beau revived again. Now Jove suspends his golden scales in air,

71 Weighs the men's wits against the lady's hair;

The doubtful beam long nods from side to side;

At length the wits mount up, the hairs subside.

See, fierce Belinda on the Baron flies, With more than usual lightning in her eyes;

Nor feared the chief th' unequal fight to try,

Who sought no more than on his foe to die.

But this bold lord with manly strength

endued,

And hence th' egregious wizard shall foredoom

139 The fate of Louis and the fall of Rome. Then cease, bright nymph! to mourn thy ravished hair,

Which adds new glory to the shining sphere!

Not all the tresses that fair head can boast,

Shall draw such envy as the lock you lost. For, after all the murders of your eye, When, after millions slain, yourself shall die;

When those fair suns shall set, as set they must,

And all those tresses shall be laid in dust: This lock, the Muse shall consecrate to fame,

And 'midst the stars inscribe Belinda's

THE PAINTER WHO PLEASED

NOBODY AND EVERYBODY
JOHN GAY

So very like a painter drew,
That every eye the picture knew.
He hit complexion, feature, air,
So just, the life itself was there.
No flattery with his colors laid
To bloom restored the faded maid;
He gave each muscle all its strength,-
The mouth, the chin, the nose's length;
His honest pencil touched with truth,
And marked the date of age and youth. 10
He lost his friends, his practice failed;
Truth should not always be revealed.
In dusty piles his pictures lay,
For no one sent the second pay.3

Two bustos, fraught with every grace, A Venus' and Apollo's face,

I Mall. A walk in St. James's Park, where was also the lake of line 136.

2 Partridge. An almanac-maker and astrologer of the period.

3 Sitters would pay a deposit, but refuse to send more money when they saw the work.

4 bustos.

Busts,

“Oh, pardon me," the artist cried; "In this we painters must decide. The piece ev'n common eyes must strike,I warrant it extremely like." My lord examined it anew;

50

No looking-glass seemed half so true.
A lady came; with borrowed grace,
He from his Venus formed her face.
Her lover praised the painter's art;
So like the picture in his heart!
To every age some charm he lent;
Ev'n beauties were almost content.
Through all the town his art they praised;
His custom grew, his price was raised.
Had he the real likeness shown,
Would any man the picture own?
But, when thus happily he wrought,
Each found the likeness in his thought.
(1727)

Which, like the heavens' o'erarching skies,
Are spangled with a thousand eyes.
The circling rays and varied light
At once confound their dazzled sight;
On every tongue detraction burns,
And malice prompts their spleen by turns.
"Mark with what insolence and pride
The creature takes his haughty stride,"
The turkey cries. "Can spleen contain ?1
Sure never bird was half so vain!
But, were intrinsic merit seen,
We turkeys have the whiter skin!"
From tongue to tongue they caught
abuse;

And next was heard the hissing goose:
"What hideous legs! what filthy claws!
I scorn to censure little flaws.
Then what a horrid squealing throat!
Ev'n owls are frighted at the note."

20

"True; those are faults," the peacock cries;

31

"My scream, my shanks, you may despise;
But such blind critics rail in vain.
What! overlook my radiant train!
Know, did my legs-your scorn and
sport-

The turkey or the goose support,
And did ye scream with harsher sound,
Those faults in you had ne'er been found.
To all apparent beauties blind,
Each blemish strikes an envious mind."
Thus in assemblies have I seen

A nymph of brightest charms and mien 40
Wake envy in each ugly face,
And buzzing scandal fills the place.
(1727)

BOADICEA

WILLIAM COWPER

[Boadicea was Queen of a tribe of Britons. After the death of her husband she quarreled with the Romans, was publicly flogged by them, and led an uprising against their authority. For a time she was successful, but subsequently was defeated and committed suicide. Cowper makes the Druid prophesy the glories of modern Britain.]

When the British warrior queen,
Bleeding from the Roman rods,
Sought, with an indignant mien,
Counsel of her country's gods,

I spleen contain. Indignation be restrained.

TAM O' SHANTER

ROBERT BURNS

[Alloway Kirk (Church) was a ruin standing near the "auld Brig o' Doon" (old bridge over the Doon), not far from Burns's birthplace. The legend of this poem he used to relate as current in the neighborhood.]

When chapman billies1 leave the street,
And drouthy2 neibors neibors meet,
As market-days are wearing late,
And folk begin to tak the gate;
While we sit bousin at the nappy,3
An' getting fou and unco happy,
We think na on the lang Scots miles,
The mosses, waters, slaps, and stiles,
That lie between us and our hame,
Whare sits our sulky, sullen dame,
Gathering her brows like gathering storm,
Nursing her wrath to keep it warm.

ΙΟ

That frae November till October,
Ae market-day thou was na sober;
That ilka melder11 wi' the miller,
Thou sat as lang as thou had siller;
That ev'ry naig was ca'd12 a shoe on,
The smith and thee gat roarin fou on;
That at the Lord's house, ev'n on Sunday,
Thou drank wi' Kirkton Jean till Monday.
She prophesied that, late or soon,
Thou would be found, deep drown'd in
Doon,

Or catch'd wi' warlocks13 in the mirk,14
By Alloway's auld, haunted kirk.

30

But to our tale :-Ae market night, Tam had got planted unco right, Fast by an ingle, 16 bleezin finely.

Wi' reamin swats17 that drank divinely; 40
And at his elbow, Souter18 Johnie,
His ancient, trusty, drouthy crony:
Tam lo'ed him like a vera brither;
They had been fou for weeks thegither.
The night drave on wi' sangs and clatter;
And ay the ale was growing better:
The landlady and Tam grew gracious,
Wi' secret favours, sweet and precious:
The souter tauld his queerest stories;
The landlord's laugh was ready chorus; 50
The storm without might rair and rustle,
Tam did na mind the storm a whistle.

The wind blew as 'twad blawn its last; The rattling show'rs rose on the blast; The speedy gleams the darkness swallow'd;

Loud, deep, and lang the thunder bellow'd:

That night, a child might understand, The Deil had business on his hand.

Weel-mounted on his grey mare, Meg, A better never lifted leg, 80 Tam skelpit20 on thro' dub21 and mire, Despising wind, and rain, and fire;

16 ingle. Hearth-fire.

17 reamin swats. Foaming ales.

18 Souter. Shoemaker.

19 maun. Must.

20 skelpit. Hurried.

21 dub. Puddle.

Whiles holding fast his gude blue bonnet, Whiles crooning o'er some auld Scots sonnet,

Whiles glow'rin round wi' prudent cares,
Lest bogles catch him unawares.
Kirk-Alloway was drawing nigh,
Where ghaists and houlets1 nightly cry.

By this time he was cross the ford, Whare in the snaw the chapman smoor'd;2 90

And past the birks3 and meikle stane,
Whare drunken Charlie brak's neck-bane;
And thro' the whins, and by the cairn,"
Whare hunters fand the murder'd bairn;
And near the thorn, aboon the well,
Whare Mungo's mither hang'd hersel.
Before him Doon pours all his floods;
The doubling storm roars thro' the woods,
The lightnings flash from pole to pole,
Near and more near the thunders roll; 100
When, glimmering thro' the groaning
trees,

Kirk-Alloway seem'd in a bleeze,?
Thro' ilka bores the beams were glancing,
And loud resounded mirth and dancing.

He screw'd the pipes and gart them skirl,16

Till roof and rafters a' did dirl.17
Coffins stood round, like open presses,
That shaw'd the dead in their last dresses;
And by some devilish cantraip sleight18
Each in its cauld hand held a light,
By which heroic Tam was able
To note upon the haly table

130

A murderer's banes in gibbet-airns;
Twa span-lang, wee, unchristened bairns;
A thief, new-cutted frae the rape,19
Wi' his last gasp his gab20 did gape;
Five tomahawks, wi' blude red-rusted:
Five scymitars, wi' murder crusted;
A garter, which a babe had strangled:
A knife, a father's throat had mangled,
Whom his ain son o' life bereft,
The grey hairs yet stack to the heft; 140
Wi' mair o' horrible and awfu',
Which ev'n to name wad be unlawfu'.