UBLIMER strains, O rustick muse, prepare;

Long silken laces hang upon the twine, And rows of pins and amber bracelets shine ; How the tight lass, knives, combs and fciflars spys, And looks on thimbles with desiring eyes- Oi‘ lott’ries next with tuneful note he told, Where filver fpoons are won and rings-of gold. 80 The lads and laffes trudge the fireet along, And all the fair is crouded in his fong. Ehe mountebank now treads the flags; and fells, His pills, his balfams, and his ague fpells ; Now o’er and o’ervthe nimble tumbler fprings, 85 And on the rope the 'vent’rous maiden fwings; 1a ck-pudding in his parti-coloured jacket, Toffes the glove, andrjoltes at ev’ry packet. Of raree-lhows he fungyand szch’s feats, Of pockets‘pick’din crowds, and various cheats. 96 Then fad he fung the Children in the wood: Ah barb’rous uncle, flain’d with infant blood ! How blackberrys they pluek’d in defarts wild, And fearlefs at the glittiring faulC-hion fmilhl; Their little corps the robin-red-breait found, 95 _ And firow‘d with piousbill the leaves around. Ah gentle birds !, ifithis verl‘e lafis ['0 long, Your names {hall live for ever in my fong. For buxom yohanhe fung the doubtful firife, How the fly failor made-the maid a wife. , me: To louder firains he rai5°d his voice, to tell What woeful warsin thy—chafe befell, , When Pz’en'y drove the dear with hound and horn, Wars to be wept by chi'ldtez’i yet unborn ! Ah With’ringten, more years thy life. had crown’d, 105 If thou hadst never Lheglrd the horn, or hound !

^[1] ​Yet shall the fqguire, who fought on bloody (lumps, By future bards be wail’d in doleful dumps. All in the land of Efl'm next he chaunts, How to {leek mares fiarch Quaker: turn gallants; I m How the grave brother flood on bank to green: Happy for him if mares had never been ! Then he was feiz’d with a religious qualm, And on a fudden fung the hundredth Pfalm. He fung of Tafey-Wel/lq, and Sawney-Sut, I I; Lilly-éullero and the [rifle Trot7 Why fhould I tell of Batman or of Share, Or Wantley’s dragon flain by valiant Moore, The bow’r of Rofamond, or Roéin Hood, I :9 And how the grafs now grows where Troy town flood ‘3 His carrols ceas’d : The lifi’ning maids and. fwaius Seem fiill to hear fome foft imperfea firains. Sudden he rofe ; and as he reels along, Swears kifl‘es fweet fliould well reward his fang. , The dami‘els laughing fly; the giddy clown {25 Again upon a wheat-{heaf drops adown ; The pow°r that guards the drunk, his fleep atends, ”Till ruddy, like his face, the sun descends.

Line 109. A song of Sir I. Denham’s See his poems. I 1 2. Etfortunatumfi nunquam Armenia fuzflfint Pafip/zaeu. Virg- x 17. Quid laquar aut Scyllzm Nz'fi, 8w. Virg. 117. Old English Ballads. @fl