I come, thy genius, to command thy ftay;
Truft not the winds, for fatal is the day,
And death unhop'd attends the watry way.
The vifion faid: and vanish'd from his fight:
The dreamer waken'd in a mortal fright:
Then pull'd his drowsy neighbour, and declar'd
What in his flumber he had feen and heard.
His friend fmil'd fcornful, and with proud contempt
Rejects as idle what his fellow dreamt.
Stay, who will ftay: for me no fears restrain,
Who follow Mercury the god of gain ;
Let each man do as to his fancy feems,
I wait, not I, till you have better dreams.
Dreams are but interludes which fancy makes
When monarch reafon fleeps, this mimic wakes:
Compounds a medley of disjointed things,
A mob of coblers, and a court of kings:
Light fumes are merry, groffer fumes are sad:
Both are the reasonable foul run mad:
And many monftrous forms in fleep we fee,
That neither were, nor are, nor e'er can be.
Sometimes forgotten things long caft behind
Rush forward in the brain, and come to mind.
The nurfe's legends are for truths receiv'd,
And the man dreams but what the boy believ❜d.
Sometimes we but rehearse a former play,
The night restores our actions done by day;
As hounds in fleep will
for their prey.
open
In fhort the farce of dreams is of a piece,
Chimeras all; and more abfurd, or lefs:
You, who believe in tales, abide alone;
Whate'er I get this voyage is my own.
Thus while he spoke, he heard the fhouting crew
That call'd aboard, and took his last adieu.
The veffel went before a merry gale,
And for quick paffage put on ev'ry fail:
But when leaft fear'd, and ev'n in open day,
The mischief overtook her in the way:
Whether the fprung a leak, I cannot find,
Or whether she was overfet with wind,
Or that fome rock below her bottom rent;
But down at once with all her crew fhe went:
Her fellow-fhips from far her lofs descry'd ;
But only fhe was funk, and all were fafe befide.
By this example you are taught again,
That dreams and vifions are not always vain:
But if, dear Partlet, you are still in doubt,
Another tale fhall make the former out.
Kenelm the son of Kenulph, Mercia's king,
Whofe holy life the legends loudly fing,
Warn'd in a dream, his murder did foretel
From point to point as after it befel:
All circumftances to his nurse he told,
(A wonder from a child of sev'n years old :)
The dream with horror heard, the good old wife
From treafon counsell'd him to guard his life;
But clofe to keep the fecret in his mind,
For a boy's vifion fmall belief would find.
The pious child, by promife bound, obey'd,
Nor was the fatal murder long delay'd:
By Quenda flain, he fell before his time,
Made a young martyr by his fifter's crime.
The tale is told by venerable Bede,
Which at your better leisure, you may read.
Macrobius too relates the vifion fent
To the great Scipio, with the fam'd event:
Objections makes, but after makes replies,
And adds, that dreams are often prophefies.
Of Daniel you may read in holy writ,
Who, when the king his vifion did forget,
Cou'd word for word the wond'rous dream repeat.
Nor lefs of patriarch Jofeph understand,
Who by a dream enflav'd th' Egyptian land,
The years of plenty and of dearth foretold,
When, for their bread, their liberty they fold.
Nor muft th' exalted butler be forgot,
Nor he whofe dream prefag'd his hanging lot.
And did not Croefus the fame death foresee,
Rais'd in his vision on a lofty tree?
The wife of Hector, in his utmost pride,
Dreamt of his death the night before he dy'd;
Well was he warn'd from battle to refrain,
But men to death decreed are warn'd in vain :
He dar'd the dream, and by his fatal foe was flain.
Much more I know, which I forbear to speak,
For fee the ruddy day begins to break ;
Let this fuffice, that plainly I foresee
My dream was bad, and bodes adverfity:
But neither pills nor laxatives I like,
They only ferve to make the well-man fick :
Of these his gain the sharp phyfician makes,
And often gives a purge, but feldom takes:
They not correct, but poifon all the blood,
And ne'er did any but the doctors good.
Their tribe, trade, trinkets, I defy them all;
With ev'ry work of 'pothecary's hall.
Thefe melancholy matters I forbear:
But let me tell thee, Partlet mine, and swear,
That when I view the beauties of thy face,
I fear not death, nor dangers, nor disgrace:
So may my foul have bliss, as when I fpy
The fcarlet red about thy partridge eye,
While thou art conftant to thy own true knight,
While thou art mine, and I am thy delight,
All forrows at thy prefence take their flight.
For true it is, as in principio,
Mulier eft hominis confufio.
Madam, the meaning of this Latin is,
That woman is to man his fovereign bliss.
For when by night I feel your tender fide,
Tho' for the narrow perch I cannot ride,
Yet I have fuch a folace in my mind,
That all my boding cares are caft behind;
And ev'n already I forget my dream:
He faid, and downward flew from off the beam.
For day light now began apace to spring,
The thrush to whistle, and the lark to fing.
Then crowing clapp'd his wings, th' appointed call,
To chuck his wives together in the hall,
By this the widow had unbarr'd the door,
And Chanticleer went ftrutting out before,
With royal courage, and with heart fo light,
As fhew'd he fcorn'd the vifions of the night.
Now roaming in the yard he fpurn'd the ground,
And gave to Partlet the first grain he found.
Then often feather'd her with wanton play,
And trod her twenty times ere prime of day:
And took by turns and gave fo much delight,
Her fifters pin'd with envy at the fight.
He chuck'd again, when other corns he found,
And scarcely deign'd to set a foot to ground.
But fwagger'd like a lord about his hall,
And his fev'n wives came running at his call.
'Twas now the month in which the world began,
(If March beheld the first created man:
And fince the vernal equinox, the fun,
In Aries twelve degrees, or more, had run;
When cafting up his eyes against the light,
Both month and day, and hour he measur'd rights.
And told more truly, than th' Ephemeris:
For art may err, but nature cannot miss.
Thus numb'ring times and feafons in his breaft,
His fecond crowing the third hour confefs'd.
Then turning, faid to Partlet, See, my dear,
How lavish nature has adorn'd the year;
How the pale primrose and blue violet spring,
And birds effay their throats difus'd to fing:
All these are ours; and I with pleasure see
Man ftrutting on two legs, and aping me:
An unfledg'd creature, of a lumpish frame,
Endow'd with fewer particles of flame,
Our dame fits couring o'er a kitchen fire,
I draw fresh air, and nature's works admire:
And ev❜n this day in more delight abound,
Than, fince I was an egg, I ever found.
The time fhall come when Chanticleer shall wish
His words unfaid, and hate his boafted blifs:
The crested bird fhall by experience know,
Jove made not him his mafter-piece below;
And learn the latter end of joy is woe.
The veffel of his blifs to dregs is run,
And Heav'n will have him tafte his other tun.
Ye wife draw near, and hearken to my tale,
Which proves that oft the proud by flatt'ry fall:
The legend is as true I undertake
As Triftran is, and Launcelot of the lake:
Which all our ladies in fuch rev'rence hold,
As if in book of martyrs it were told.
A fox full-fraught with feeming fanctity,
That fear'd an oath, but, like the devil, would lie;
Who look'd like Lent, and had the holy leer,
And durft not fin before he faid his pray'r;
This pious cheat, that never fuck'd the blood,
Nor chew'd the flesh of lambs, but when he cou'd;
Had pafs'd three fummers in the neighb'ring wood:
And mufing long, whom next to circumvent,
On Chanticleer his wicked fancy bent:
And in his high imagination caft,
By ftratagem to gratify his tafte.
The plot contriv'd, before the break of day, Saint Reynard thro' the hedge had made his way;
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