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THE POEMS OF POPE.

But after many a hearty struggle past,
I condescended to be pleas'd at last.

Soon as he said, My mistress and my wife!
Do what you list the term of all your life;'
I took to heart the merits of the cause,
And stood content to rule by wholesome laws;
Receiv'd the reins of absolute command,
With all the government of house and land,
And empire o'er his tongue and o'er his hand.
As for the volume that revil'd the dames,
'Twas torn to fragments, and condemn'd to flames.

Now Heaven on all my husbands gone bestow Pleasures above, for tortures felt below:

That rest they wish'd for, grant them in the grave, And bless those souls my conduct help'd to save!

IMITATIONS OF ENGLISH POETS.

IMITATIONS OF ENGLISH POETS.

CHAUCER.

WOMEN ben full of ragerie,

Yet swinken nat sans secresie.
Thilke moral shall ye understond,

From schoole-boy's tale of fayre Irelond;
Which to the fennes hath him betake,
To filche the grey ducke fro the lake.
Right then there passen by the way
His aunt, and eke her daughters tway.

Ducke in his trowses hath he hent,
Not to be spy'd of ladies gent.

"But ho! our nephew," crieth one;
"Ho!" quoth another, "Cozen John;"
And stoppen, and lough, and callen out-
This sely clerke full low doth lout:
They asken that, and talken this,
"Lo, here is coz, and here is miss."
But, as he glozeth with speeches soote,
The ducke sore tickleth his erse roote:
Fore-piece and buttons all-to-brest

Forth thrust a white neck and red crest.

medailes: terke nought spake :

Is cringer fuese trieth

quaake.”

I moter cth the daughter, •Be the are ng mas engen a'ter? Bettes e mais and chalke,

Then rust a man whose yerde can talke."

SPENSER.

THE ALLEY.

Iy every town where Thamis rolls his tyde,
A narrow pass there is, with houses low,
Where ever and anon the stream is ey'd,
And many a boat soft sliding to and fro :
There oft are heard the notes of infant woe,
The short thick sob, loud scream, and shriller

squail:

How can ye, mothers, vex your children so? Some play, some eat, some cack against the wall, And as they crouchen low, for bread and butter call.

And on the broken pavement, here and there,
Doth many a stinking sprat and herring lie;
A brandy and tobacco shop is neare,

And hens, and dogs, and hogs, are feeding by;