But this great maxim must be understood,
"Be fure, nay very fure, thy cork be good:"
Then future ages fhall of Peggy tell,

That nymph that brew'd and bottled ale fo well.

40

45

How fleet is air! how many things have breath... Which in a moment they resign to death, Depriv'd of light and all their happiest state Not by their fault but some o'erruling Fate! Altho' fair flow'rs that juftly might invite Are cropt, nay torn away, for man's delight, Yet ftill thofe flow'rs, alas can make no moan,

Nor has Narciffus now a pow'r to groan,

49

But all those things which breathe in diff'rent frame By tie of common breath man's pity claim.

}

A gentle lamb has rhetorick to plead,

And when the fees the butcher's knife decreed,
Her voice entreats him not to make her bleed:
But cruel gain and luxury of tafte

With pride ftill lays man's fellow-mortals wafte.
What earth and waters breed or air infpires
Man for his palate fits by tort'ring fires.

55

Mully, a cow fprung from a beauteous race, With spreading front did Mountown's pastures grace': Gentle she was, and with a gentle stream

61

Each morn and night gave milk that equall'd cream.
Offending none, of none she stood in dread,
Much lefs of perfons which the daily fed;

"But innocence cannot itself defend

[" Friend."

"'Gainft treach'rous arts veil'd with the name of

Robin of Derbyshire, whose temper shocks The conftitution of his native rocks,

67

Born in a place which, if it once be nam'd,
Would make a blushing modesty asham'd,
He with indulgence kindly did appear
To make poor Mully his peculiar care;
But inwardly this fullen churlish thief
Had all his mind plac'd upon Mully's beef:
His fancy fed on her; and thus he 'd cry,

Mully, as fure as I'm alive you die!

70

75

"'Tis a brave cow! O, Sirs! when Christmas comes "These shins shall make the porridge grac'd with plums;

80

“Then 'midst our cups whilft we profusely dine This blade fhall enter deep in Mully's chine. "What ribs, what rumps, what bak'd, boil'd, stew'd,

"and roast!

"There fha' n't one fingle tripe of her be loft !"

When Peggy, nymph of Mountown, heard these She griev'd to hear of Mully's future wounds. [founds, "What crime," faid fhe, " has gentle Mully done? "Witness the rifing and the setting fun, "That knows what milk she constantly would give! “Let that quench Robin's rage and Mully live.”

*

86

The Devil's Arfe of Peak, described by Hobbes in a poen De Mirabilibus Pecci, the beft of his poetical performances.

Daniel, a sprightly fwain, that us’d to flash
The vig'rous fleeds that drew his lord's calaíh,
To Peggy's fide inclin'd; for it was well known
How well he lov'd those cattle of his own.

Then Terence spoke, oraculous and fly ;
He'd neither grant the question nor deny ;
Pleading for milk his thoughts were on mince pie:
But all his arguments so dubious were

That Mully thence had neither hopes nor fear.

༡༠

96

100

"You've spoke," fays Robin; "but now let me tell' ""Tis not fair spoken words that fill the belly: ["ye "Pudding and beef I love; and cannot stoop "To recommend your bonny-clabber foup. "You fay she is innocent; but what of that? "'Tis more than crime fufficient that she is fat! "And that which is prevailing in this cafe Is, there is another cow to fill her place: "And granting Mully to have milk in store, "Yet ftill this other cow will give us more. "She dies."-Stop here, my Muse! forbear the rest, And veil that grief which cannot be expreft.

105

ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE.

FIRST PRINTED BY THE AUTHOR IN 1704.

As poets fay, one Orpheus went

To hell upon an odd intent.

First tell the story, then let 's know
If any one will do so new.

This Orpheus was a jolly boy,
Born long before the fiege of Troy;
His parents found the lad was sharp,
And taught him on the Irish harp;
And when grown fit for marriage life
Gave him Eurydice for wife;
And they as foon as match was made
Set up the ballad-finging trade.

The cunning varlet could devife
For country folks ten thousand lies,
Affirming all those monftrous things
Were done by force of harp and strings;
Could make a tiger in a trice
Tame as a cat and catch your mice;
Could make a lion's courage flag,
And ftraight could animate a stag;
And by the help of pleafing ditties
Make millftones run and build up
Each had the use of fluent tongue;
If Dice fcolded Orpheus fung;
And fo by difcord without ftrife
Compos'd one harmony of life;
And thus as all their matters flood
They got an honeft livelihood.

cities.

Happy were mortals could they be
From any
fudden danger free!
Happy were poets could their fong
The feeble thread of life prolong!

ΤΟ

15

20

25

30

But as these two went ftrolling on Poor Dice's fcene of life was done; Away her fleeting breath must fly,

Yet no one knows wherefore or why.

This caus'd the genʼral lamentation
To all that knew her in her ftation;
How brifk fhe was ftill to advance
The harper's gain and lead the dance;
In ev'ry tune observe her thrill,
Sing on, yet change the money ftill.

Orpheus best knew what lofs he had,
And thinking on it fell almost mad,

35

40

And in despair to Linus ran,

45

Who was efteem'd a cunning man;

Cry'd, "He again muft Dice have,

"Or else be bury'd in her grave."

Quoth Linus, "Soft; refrain your forrow; "What fails to-day may speed to-morrow: "Thank you the gods for whate'er happens, "But don't fall out with your fat capons. ""Tis many an honeft man's petition "That he may be in your condition. "If fuch a bleffing might be had "To change a living wife for dead "I'd be your chapman; nay, I'd do 't, "Tho' I gave forty pounds to boot. "Confider first you fave her diet; "Confider next you keep her quiet:

150

55