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Libs, Notus, Auster:'t these in frowns array'd;
How then would fare or earth, or sky, or main,
Were the stern god to give his Naves the rein ?
And were not she rebellious breasts to quell,
And were not the her statutes to maintain,

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

A ruffet stole was o'er her shoulders thrown,
A russet kirtle fenc'd the nipping air ;
'Twas fimple russet, but it was her own;
'Twas her own country bred the flock fo fair:
'Twas her own labour did the fleece prepare ;
And, footh, to say, her pupils rang'd around,
Through pious awe, did term it passiug rare;

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

Albeit ne flatt'ry did corrupt her truth,
Ne pompous

title did debauch her ear,
Goody, Good Woman, Gossip, n'Aunt, forsooth,
Or Daine, the sole additions she did hear;
Yet these she challeng'd, these she held right dear;
Ne would esteen him act as mought behove,
Who should not honour'd eld with these revere;

For never title yet so mean could prove,
But there was eke a mind which did that title love.

One ancient hen she took delight to feed,
The plodding pattern of the busy dame;
Which, ever and anun, impell’d by need,
Into her school, begirt with chickens, came :

+ The south-west wind, south, &c.

Such favour did her paft deportment claim:
And if neglect had lavish'd on the ground
Fragment of bread the would collect the same;

For well me knew, and quaintly could expound, What sin it were to waste the smallest crumb she found,

Herbs, too, she knew, and well of each could speak,
That in her garden fipt the filv'ry dew;
Where no vain flow'r disclos'd a gaudy streak,
But herbs for use, and physic, not a few,
Of grey renown, within thuse borders grew;
The tufted basil, pun-provoking thyme,
Fresh baum, and marygold of cheerful hue,

The lowly gil, that never dạres to climb,
And more I fain would fing, aisdaining here to shyme.

Yet euphrafy may not be left unsung,
That gives dim eyes to wand'ring leagues around,
And pungent radish, biting infant's tongue ;
And plantain ribb'd, that heals the reaper's wound;
And marj'ram sweet, in shepherd's polie found ;
And lavender, whose spikes of azure bloom
Shall be, erewhile, in arid bundles bound,

To lurk amid the labours of her loom,
And crown her kerchiefs clean with mickle rare perfume.

And here trim rosemarine, that whiļom crown'd
The daintief garden of the proudest peer,
Ere, driven from its envy'd fite, it found
A sacred shelter for its branches here,
Where, edg'd with gold, its glitt'ring skirts appear,
O waffel days! O cuttoms meet and well!
Ere this was banish'd from its lofty sphere;

Simplicity then fought this humble cell,
Nor eyer would the more with thane and lordling dwell.



Here oft the dame, on Sabbath's decent eve,
Hymned such pfalms as Sternhold forth did mete :
If winter 'twere, the to her hearth did cleate :
But in her garden found her summer seat :
Sweet melody! to hear her then repeat
How Ifrael's fons, beneath a foreign king,
While taunting foe-men did a song entreat,

All for the nonce, untuning every tring,
Up-hung their useless lyres-small heart had they to

For she was just, and friend to virtuous lore,
And pass'd much time in truly virtuvus deed ;
And in those elfins' ears would oft deplore
The times when Truth by Popish 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 faints on smould'ring flames did burn :
Ah, deareft Lord! forefend thilk days Mould e'er return,

In elbow-chair, like that of Scottish fiem,
By the sharp tooth of cank’ring eld defac'd,
In which, when he receives his diadem,
Our sov'reign prince and liefeft liege is plac'd,
The matron fate : and some with rank he grac'd,
(The source of children's and of courtier's pride !)
Redress'd affronts (for vile affronts there pass’d;)

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 to raise ;
Some with vile copper prize exalt on high,
And some entice with pittance small of praise ;

And other some with baleful sprig The 'frays :
E'en absent, she the reins of pow'r doth hold,
While with quaint arts the giddy crowd the fways ;

Forewarn'd, if little bird their pranks behold, "Twill whisper in her ear, and all the scene unfold.

Lo! now with state the utters the command !
Eftsoons the urchins to their tasks repair;
Their books, of stature small, they take in hand,
Which with pellucid horn secured are,
To save from finger-wet the letters fair :
The work fo gay, that on their back is seen,
St. George's high atchievements does declare,

On which thilk wight that has y-gazing been,
Kens the forth-coming rod, unpleasing fight, I ween!

Ah! luckless he, and born beneath the beam
Of evil ftar! it irks me whilft I write !
As erft the bard,t 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, the 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 whiteit erinilin.

O ruthful scene! when, from a nook obscure,
His little sister doth his peril see;
* All playful as the fate, the grows demure,
She finds full foon her wonted spirits flee ;
She meditates a pray'r to set him free ;
Nor gentle pardon could this dame deny,

of Spenser.

(If gentle pardon could with dames agree)

To her fad grief that swells in either eye,
And wrings her so that all for pity he could die.

No longer can she now her shricks command ;
And hardly fhę forbears, through awful fear,
To rushen forth, and with presumptuous hand,
To stay harth justice in its mid career.
On thee the 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.

But ah! 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 ?
The plenteous show's that does his cheek distain ?
When he in abject wise implores the dame,
Ne hopeth aught of sweet reprieve to gain ;

Or when from high the levels well her aim,
And through the thatch his cries each falling ftroke

The other tribe, aghast, with fore dismay,
Attend, and con their tasks with mickle care ;
By turns, aftony'd, ev'ry twig survey,
And from their fellows hateful wounds beware;
Knowing, I wist, how each the same may sare;
Till fear has taught them a performance meet,
And to the well-known ches the dame repair,

Where oft with sugar'd cates she doth 'em grect, And gingerbread y-sare, now, certes, doubly sweet!

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