Graceful Ease in artless stole, Mirth of the loosely-flowing hair. Whose tearful cheeks are lovely to the view, IX. Unboastful Maid! though now the Lily pale THE RAVEN. A CHRISTMAS TALE, TOLD BY A SCHOOL-BOY TO HIS LITTLE BROTHERS AND SISTERS. UNDERNEATH an old oak tree There was of swine a huge company That grunted as they crunch'd the mast: For that was ripe, and fell full fast. Then they trotted away, for the wind grew high: Flew low in the rain, and his feathers not wet. He went high and low, Over hill, over dale, did the black Raven go. Travelled he with wandering wings: Many Summers, many Winters I can't tell half his adventures. At length he came back, and with him a She, The boughs from the trunk the woodman did sever; MUSIC. HENCE, soul-dissolving Harmony That lead'st th' oblivious soul astray Though thou sphere descended be Hence away! Thou mightier Goddess, thou demand'st my lay, Born when earth was seiz'd with cholic; Or as more sapient sages say, What time the Legion diabolic Compelled their beings to enshrine Precipitate adown the steep With hideous rout were plunging in the deep, Wert thou begot by Discord on Confusion! What tho' no name's sonorous power While concords wing their distant flight. Sable clerk of Tiverton. And oft where Otter sports his stream, Clappest hoarse thy raven wings! DEVONSHIRE ROADS. THE indignant Bard compos'd this furious ode, Dull sounds the Bard's bemudded lyre; Was darkly shadow'd out in Milton's lay, When the sad fiends thro' Hell's sulphureous roads Or when the fall'n Archangel fierce Dar'd through the realms of Night to pierce, 1790. Nor cheering pipe, nor Bird's shrill note INSIDE THE COACH. 'Tis hard on Bagshot Heath to try Who lov'st with Limbs supine to lie ; Listen, listen to my prayer; And to thy votary dispense Thy soporific influence! What tho' around thy drowsy head The seven-fold cap of night be spread, Yet lift that drowsy head awhile And yawn propitiously a smile; In drizzly rains poppean dews O'er the tir'd inmates of the Coach diffuse; And when thou'st charm'd our eyes to rest Bid many a dream from thy dominions We snore quartettes in ecstacy of nose. To dreary Bagshot Heath again! 1790. 1790. If Pegasus will let thee only ride him, DEAR BROTHER, I have often been surprised that Mathematics, the quintessence of Truth, should have found admirers so few and so languid. Frequent consideration and minute scrutiny have at length unravelled the case; viz. that though Reason is feasted, Imagination is starved; whilst Reason is luxuriating in its proper Paradise, Imagination is wearily travelling on a dreary desert. To assist Reason by the stimulus of Imagination is the design of the following production. In the execution of it much may be objectionable. The verse (particularly in the introduction of the ode) may be accused of unwarrantable liberties, but they are liberties equally homogeneal with the exactness of Mathematical disquisition, and the boldness of Pindarie daring. I have three strong champions to defend me against the attacks of Criticism; the Novelty, the Difficulty, and the Utility of the work. I may justly plume myself, that I first have drawn the nymph Mathesis from the visionary caves of abstracted Idea, and caused her to unite with Harmony. The first-born of this Union I now present to you; with interested motives indeed-as I expect to receive in return the more valuable offspring of your Muse. March 31, 1791. To the Rev. G. C. Thine ever, S. T. C. This is now-this was erst, Proposition the first-and Problem the first. I. On a given finite line Which must no way incline; -A, N, G, E, L, E. Be the given line Which must no way incline; The great Mathematician Makes this Requisition, That we describe an Equi-lateral Tri -angle on it: Aid us Reason-aid us Wit! |