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§ 95. The School Mistress. In Imitation of Spenser.
SHENSTONE.
-Auditæ voces, vagitus et ingens,
Infantumque animæ fientes in limine primo. Virg.
AH me! full sorely is my heart forlorn,
To think how modest worth neglected lies,
While partial Fame doth with her blasts adorn
Such deeds alone as pride and pomp disguise;
Deeds of ill sort, and mischievous emprize :
Lend me thy clarion, Goddess! let me try
To sound the praise of merit ere it dies;

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Such as 1 oft have chanced to espy, Lost in the dreary shades of dull obscurity. Inev'ry village, mark'd with little spire,[fame, Embower'd in trees, and hardly known to There dwells, in lowly shade and mean attire, A matron old, whom we School-mistress name;

Who boasts unruly brats with birch to tame : They grieven sore, in piteous durance pent, Aw'd by the pow'r of this relentless dame,.

And oft-times, on vagaries idly bent, [shent. For unkempt hair, or task unconn'd, are sorely And all in sight doth rise a birchin tree,

Which Learningnearherlittle dome did stow, Whilome a twig of small regard to see,

Tho' now so wide its waving branches flow, And work the simple vassals mickle woe, For not a wind might curl the leaves that blew; (low; But their limbs shudder'd, and their pulse beat And, as they look'd, they found their horror grew,

And shap'd it into rods, and tingled at the view. So have I seen (who has not, may conceive)

A lifeless phantom near a garden plac'd; So doth it wanton birds of peace bereave,

Of sport, of song, of pleasure, of repast: They start, they stare, they wheel, they look aghast ;

Sad servitude! Such comfortless anuoy May no bold Briton's riper age e'er taste! Ne superstition clog his dance of joy, Ne vision empty, vain, his native bliss destroy! Near to this dome is found a patch so green, On which the tribe their gambols do display; And at the door impris'ning board is seen,

With dark distrust, and sad repentance fill'd,

And stedfast hate, and sharp affliction join'd, And fury uncontrol'd, and chastisement unkind. Few but have kenn'd, in semblance meet pourtray'd,

The childish faces of old Æol's train,

Lest weakly wightsofsmallersizeshouldstray, Eazer, perdie, to bask in sunny day! [sound,

The noises intermix'd, which thence reDo Learning's little tenement betray;

Where sits the dame, disguis'd in look profound [around. And eyes her Fairy throng, and turns her wheel Her cap, far whiter than the driven snow,

Emblem right meet of decency does yield; Her apron dyed in grain, as blue, I trowe,

As is time baie bell that adorns the field: And in her hand, for sceptre, she does wield Tway birchi sprays, with anxious fear en

twin'd,

Libs, Notns, Auster*: these in frowns array'd. How then would fareonearth, or sky,ormain, Were the stern God to give his slaves the rein?

And were not she rebellious breasts to quell, And were not she her statutes to maintain,

The cot no more, I ween, weredeem'd the cell Where comely peace of mind and decent order dwell.

A russet stole was o'er her shoulders thrown; A russet kirtle fene'd the nipping air; "Twas simple russet, but it was her own,

Twas her own country bred the flock so fait; "Twas her own labor did the fleece prepare,

And, sooth to say, her pupils, rang daround, Thro' pious awe did term it passing rare:

For they in gaping wonderment abound, And think, no doubt, she been the greatest wight on ground.

Albeit, ne flattery did corrupt her truth;
Ne pompous title did debauch her ear;
Goody, good-woman, gossip, n'aunt, forsooth,

Or dame, the sole additions she did hear; Yet these she challeng'd, these she held right

dear;

Ne would esteem him act as mought behove, Who should not honor'd eld with these revere;

For never title yet so mean could prove, But there was ekea mind which did that title love. One antient hen she took delight to feed,

came,

The plodding pattern of the busy dame, Which ever and anou, impell'd by need, Into her school, begirt with chickens, Such favor did her past deportment claim : And if neglect had lavish'd on the ground Fragment of bread, she would collect the same, For well she new, and quaintly cold expound.

What sin it were to waste the smallest crumb

she found.

Herbs too she knew, and well of cach could speak,

That in her garden sipp'd the silv'ry dew, Where no vain flow'r disclos'd a gaudý streak, But herbs for use and physic not a few, Of grey renown, within those borders grew;

The tufted basil, pun-provoking thyme, Fresh baum, and marygold of cheerful hue,

The lowly gill, that never dares to climb, And more I then would sing, disdaining here to rhyme.

Yet euphrasy may not be left unsung, Thatgivesdimeyes to wander leagues around; And pungent radish, biting infant's tongue, And plantain ribble, that heals the reaper' wound;

And

If winter 'twere she to her hearth did cleave: But in her garden found a summer seat : Sweet melody! to hear her then repeat

How Israel's sons, bencath a foreign king, While taunting foe-men did a song entreat,

All for the nonce untuning every string, Uphung their useless lyres-small heart had they to sing.

For she was just, and friend to virtuous lore,

And pass'd much time in truly virtuous deed; And in those elfins' ears would oft deplore

The times when Truth by Popisha rage did bleed,

And tortious Death was true Devotion's meed; And simple Faith in iron chains did mourn, That nould on wooden image place her creed; And lawny saints in sinould'ring flames did burn: [return. Ah! dearest Lord! forefend thilk days should c'er In elbow chair, like that of Scottish stem,

By the sharp tooth of cank'ring Eld defac'd, In which, when he receives his diadem,

Our sov'reign prince and liefest liege is plac'd, The matron fate: and some with rank she grac'd, The source of children's and of courtier's pride! [pass'd) Redress'd affronts (for vile affronts there And warn'd them not the fretful to deride, But love each other dear, whatever them betide. Right well she knew each temper to descry,

To thwart the proud, and the submiss toraise; Some with vile copper prize exalt on high,

Andsomeentice with pittance small of praise; And other some with baleful sprig she 'frays;

Lo! now with state she utters the command!

Eftsoons the urchins to their tasks repair; Their books of stature small, they take in hand,

E'en absent, she the reins of pow'r doth hold, While with quaint arts the giddy crowd she

Which with pellucid horn secured are, To save from finger wet the letters fair.

The word so gay that on their back is seen St. George's high achievements does declare,

Kens the forth-coming rod; unpleasing sight, I On which thilk wight that has ygazing been,

ween!

Ah! luckless he, and born beneath the beam Of evil star! it irks me whilst I write! As erst the bard* by Mulla's silver stream,

Oft as he told of deadly dolorous plight, Sigh'd as he sung, and did in tears indite

For, brandishing the rod, she doth begin To loose the brogues, the stripling's late delight!

And down they drop; appears his dainty skin, Fair as the furry coat of whitest ermilin. O ruthful scene! when from a nook obsure His little sister doth his peril see: All playful as she sate, she grows demure, She finds full soon her wonted spirits flee; She meditates a pray'r to set him free:

Nor gentle pardon could this dame deny (If gentle pardon could with dames agree)

To her sad grief that swells in either eye, And wrings her so, that all for pity she could die. No longer can she now her shrieks command,

And hardly she forbears, thro' awful fear, Torushen forth, and, with presumptuons hand,

To stay harsh justice in its mid career. On thee she calls, on thee, her parent dear!

(Ah! too remote to ward the shameful blow!) She sees no kind domestic visage near,

And soon a flood of tears begins to flow, And gives a loose at last to unavailing woe. Butah! what pen his piteous plight may trace?

Or what device his loud laments explain? The form uncouth of his disguised face?

The pallid hue that dyes his looks amain? Theplenteous show'rthatdoeshis cheekdistain?

When he in abject wise implores the dame, Ne hopeth aught of sweet reprieve to gain;

Or when from high she levels well her aim, And, thro' the thatch, his cries each falling stroke proclaim.

The other tribe, aghast with sore disma

Attend, and conntheir tasks withinickle care, By turns, astenied, ev'ry twig survey,

And from their fellows hateful wounds beware,

Knowing, Iwist, how each the same may share; Till fear has taught them a performance

meet,

And to the well-known chest the dame repair, Whence oft with sugar'd cates she doth 'em greet,

1.

gingerbread y-rare; now, certes, doubly

sweet!

Sce, to their seats they hye with merry glee, And in beseeinly order sitten there, All but the wight of bum y-galled; he Abhorreth bench, and stool, and form, and chair [hair); (This hand in mouth y-fixed, that rends his And eke with snubs profound, and heaving breast, Convulsions intermitting! does declare

His grievous wrong, his dame's unjust behest, Andscornsheroffer'd love, and shuns to be caress'd. His face besprent with liquid crystal shines;

His blooming face, that seemsa purple flow'r, Which low to earth his drooping head decines,

All smear'd and sullied by a vernal show'r Oh the hard bosoms of despotic pow'r!

All, all but she, the author of his shame, All, all but she, regret this mournful hour: Yet hence the youth, and hence the flow'r shall claim, [fame. If so, I deem aright, transcending worth and Behind some door in melancholy thought,

Mindless of food, he, dreary caitiff! pines; Ne for his fellows joyaunce careth onght,

But to the wind all merriment resigns, And deems it shame if he to peace inclines;

And many a sullen look askaunce is sent, Which for his dame's annoyance he designs;

And still the more to pleasure him she's bent, The more doth he, perverse, her 'haviour past

resent.

Ah me! how much I fear lest pride it be!

But if that pride it be which thus inspires, Beware, ye dames! with nice discernment see, Ye quench not too the sparks of nobler fires: Ah! better far than all the Muse's lyres

(All coward arts) is valor's gen'rous heat, The firm fix'd breast which fit and right requires,

Like Vernon's patriot soul, more justly great Than craft that pimps for ill, or flow'ry false deceit.

Yet, nurs'd with skill, what dazzling fruits appear!

Een now sagacious foresight points to show A little bench of heedless bishops here,

And there a chancellor in embryo, Or bard sublime, if hard may e'er be so; As Milton, Shakspeare, names that ne'er shall die!

Tho' now he crawl along the ground so low; Nor weeting how the Muse should soar on high, [fly. Wisheth, poor starv'ling elf! his paper kite may And this perhaps, who cens'ring the design, Low lays the house which that of cards doth build,

Shall Dennis be, if rigid Fates incline; And many an epic to his rage shall yield,

A thousand ways in wanton rings they run, Heaven shield their short liv'd pastimes, I implore!

For well may Freedom, erst so dearly won, Appear to British elf more gladsome than the sun. Enjoy, poor imps! enjoy your sportive trade, Andchasegayflies, and cull the fairest flow'rs, For when my bones in grass green sods are laid, For never may ye taste more careless hours In knightly castles, or in ladies' bow'rs.

( vain, to seek delight in earthly things! But most in courts, where proud Ambition tow'rs; Deluded wight! who weens fair peace can spring

Beneath the pompous dome of kesar or of king. See in each sprite some various bent appear!

These rudely carol most incondite lay; Those saunt'ring on the green, with jocund leer, Salute the stranger passing on his way: Some builden fragile tenements of clay;

Some to the standing lake their courses hend, With pebbles sinooth, at duck and drake to

play;

Thilk to the huxter's sav'ry cottage tend, Inpastykingsand queens th' allotted mite to spend. Here, as each season yields a different store,

Each season's stores in order ranged been; Apples with cabbage net y-cover'd o'er,

Gallingfullsoreth'unmonied wight, arc seen; And gooseb'rie, clad in liv'ry red or green:

And here of lovely dye the Cath'rine pear; Fine pear! as lovely for thy juice I ween;

O may no wight e'er pennyless come there, Lest, smit with ardent love, he pine with hopeless care!

Admir'd Salopia! that with venial pride

EyesherbrightforminSevern'sambientwave, Fam'd for her loyal cares in perils tried; Herdaughterslovely, and her striplings brave: Amidst the rest, may flow'rs adorn his grave Whose art did first these dulcet cates display! A motive fair to Learning's imps he gave,

Who cheerless o'er her darkling region stray, Till Reason's morn arise, and light them on their way.

§ 96. Oriental Eclogues. By Mr. COLLINS.

ECLOGUE 1.

Selim; or the Shepherd': Moral.

Scene, a Valley, near Bagdat.-Time, the Morning.

YE Persian maids, attend your Poet's lays, And hear how shepherds pass their golden ⚫ days.

Not all are blest, whom Fortune's hand sustains • With wealth in courts, nor all that haunt the ⚫ plains.

Well may your hearts believe the truths I tell; "Tis virtue makes the bliss, where'er we dwell.' Thus Selim sung, by sacred Truth inspir'd; Nor praise but such as Truth bestow'd, desir'd: Wise in himself, his meaning songs convey'd Informing morals to the shepherd maid; Or taught the swains that surest bliss to find, What groves, nor streams bestow, a virtuous mind.

When sweet and blushing, like a virgin bride, The radiant morn resum'd her orient pride; When wanton gales along the vallies play, Breatheoneachflow'r,and bear their sweets away; By Tygris' wandering waves he sat, and sung, This useful lesson for the fair and young:

·

Ye Persian dames,' he said, to you belong (Well may they please) the morals of my song: No fairer maids, I trust, than you are found, "Grac'd with softarts, the peopled world around! The morn that lights you to your loves supplies Each gentler ray, delicious to your eyes; For you those flow'rs her fragrant hands bestow. And yours the love that kings delight to know. Yet think not these, all beauteous as they are, The best kind blessings Heaven cangrantthefair: Who trust alone in beauty's feeble ray, • Boast but the worth Balsora's pearls display! Drawn from the deep, we own thesurface bright: But, dark within, they drink no lustrous light. * Such are the maids, and such the charms they By sense unaided, or to virtue lost. [boast, Self-flatt'ring sex! your hearts believe in vain That Love shall blind, when once he fires the Or hope a lover by your faults to win, [swain; As spots on ermine beautify the skin: Who seeks secure to rule, be first her care Each softer virtue that adorns the fair; Each tender passion man delights to find 'The lov'd perfection of a female mind!

"

·

·

'Blest were the days when Wisdom held her reign,

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And shepherds sought her on the silent plain; With Truth! she wedded in the secret grove, Immortal Truth! and daughters blest their love.

"O haste, fair maids! ye Virtues, come away! 'Sweet peace and Plenty lead you on your way! The balmy shrub for you shall love our shore, By Ind excell'd or Araby, no more.

"Lost to our fields, for so the fates ordain, The dear deserters shall return again.

Come thou, whose thoughts as limpid springs are clear;

To lead the train, sweet Modesty, appear: Here make thy court amidst our rural scene, Andshepherdgirlsshall own thee for theirqueen, With thee be Chastity, of all afraid,

Distrusting all, a wise suspicious maid; But man the most-not more the mountain doe Holds the swift falcon for her deadly for. Cold is her breast, like flow'rs that drink thedew; A silken veil conceals her from the view. 'No wild desires amidst thy train be known, But Faith, whose heart is fix'd on one alone : Desponding Meekness, with her down-casteyes, And friendly Pity, full of tender sighs; And Love the last. By these your hearts approve; These are the virtues that must lead to love. Thus sung the swain; and antient legends say, The maids of Bagdat verified the lay: Dear to the plains, the Virtues came along ; The shepherds lov'd, and Selim bless'd his song.

ECLOGUE II.

Hassan; or the Camel-Driver.

Scene, the Desert. -- Time, Mid-day. IN silent horror o'er the boundless waste, The driver Hassan with his camels pass'd: One cruse of water on his back he bore, And his light scrip contain'd a scanty store; A fan of painted feathers in his hand, To guard his shaded face from scorching sand. The sultry sun had gain'd the middle sky, And not a tree, and not an herb, was nigh: The beasts with pain their dusty way pursue, Shrill roar'd the winds, and dreary was the view, With desperate sorrow wild, th' affrighted man Thrice sigh'd, thrice struck his breast, and thus

began;

Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day, When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way!

"

·

Ah! little thought I of the blasting wind, The thirst or pinching hunger that I find! Bethink thee, Hassan, whereshall thirst assuage, When fails this cruse, his unrelenting rage? Soon shall this scrip its precious load resign; Then what but tears and hunger shall be thing?

Ye mute companions of my toils, that beat In all my griefs a more than equal share!

Here