'Twas near an old enchaunted court, Where sportive Faeries made refort To revel out the night.
His heart was drear, his hope was crofs'd, 'Twas late, 'twas far, the path was loft That reach'd the neighbour-town; With weary fteps he quits the shades, Refolv'd the darkling dome he treads, And drops his limbs adown.
But fcant he lays him on the floor, When hollow winds remove the door, A trembling rocks the ground: And (well I ween to count aright) At once an hundred tapers light On all the walls around.
Now founding tongues affail his ear, Now founding feet approachen near, And now the founds encrease, And from the corner where he lay He fees a train profufely gay Come prankling o'er the place.
But (truft me Gentles!) never yet Was dight a masking half fo neat, Or half fo, rich before;
The country lent the fweet perfumes, The fea the pearl, the fky the plumes, The town its filken ftore.
Now whilft he gaz'd, a Gallant dreft In flaunting robes above the reft, With awful accent cry'd; What Mortal of a wretched mind, Whofe fighs infect the balmy wind, Has here prefum'd to hide?
At this the Swain, whofe vent'rous four No fears of Magick art controul, Advanc'd in open fight; by
Nor have I caufe of dread, he said, Who view (by no prefumption led) Your revels of the night.
'Twas grief, for fcorn of faithful love, Which made my fteps unweeting rove Amid the nightly dew.'
'Tis well, the Gallant cries again, We Faeries never injure men Who dare to tell us true.
Exalt thy love-dejected heart, Be mine the tafk, or ere we part, To make thee grief refign;
Now take the pleafure of thy chaunce; Whilft I with Mah my partner daunce, Be little Mable thine.
He fpoke, and all a fudden there Light mufick floats in wanton air: The Monarch leads the Queen: The reft their Faerie partners found, And Mable trimly tript the ground With Edwin of the green.
The dauncing paft, the board was laid, And ficker fuch a feaft was made As heart and lip defire; Withouten hands the difhes fly, The glaffes with a wifh come nigh, And with a wish retire.
But now to pleafe the Faerie king, Full ev'ry deal they laugh and fing, And antick feats devife; Some wind and tumble like an ape, And other-fome tranfmute their fhape. In Edwin's wond'ring eyes.
'Till one at laft that Robin hight, (Renown'd for pinching maids by night) As hent him up aloof;
And full again the beam he flung, Where by the back the Youth he hung,
To fprawl unneath the roof.
From thence, "Reverfe my charm, he cries,
And let it fairly now fuffice
"The gambol has been fhewn."
But Oberon answers with a smile,. Content thee, Edwin, for a while, "The vantage is thine own!
Here ended all the phantom-play; They smelt the fresh approach of day,. And heard a cock to crow ;.
The whirling wind that bore the crowd Has clap'd the door, and whiftled loud, To warn them all to go.
Then fcreaming all at once they fly, die;
And all at once the tapers
Poor Edwin falls to floor;: Forlorn his ftate, and dark, the place, Was never wight in fike a cafe Through all the land before..
But foon as dan Apollo rofe,. Full jolly creature home he goes, He feels his back the lefs. His honeft tongue and fteady mind Had rid him of the lump behind, Which made him want fuccefs..
With lufty livelyhed he talks, He feems a dauncing as he walks,, His story foon took wind';; And beauteous Edith fees the youth,. Endow'd with courage, fenfe, and truth Without a bunch behind.
The ftory told, Sir Topaz mov'd: (The youth of Edith erft approv'd)} To fee the revel scene;
At clofe of eve he leaves his home,.. And wends, to find the ruin'd dome All on the gloomy plain.
As there he bides, it fo befell,. The wind came ruftling down a dell, A fhaking feiz'd the wall:
Up fpring the tapers as before, The Faeries bragly foot the floor,. And mufick fills the hall.
But Certes forely funk with woe Sir Topaz fees the Elphin fhow, His fpirits in him die:
When Oberon cries, A man is near, 'A mortal paffion, cleeped fear, Hangs flagging in the fky.'
With that Sir Topaz, (haplefs youth!) In accents fault'ring ay for ruth Intreats them pity graunt; For als he been a mifter wight Betray'd by wand'ring in the night To tread the circled haunt.
Ah lofell vile, at once they roar ! And little skill'd of Faerie lore, Thy caufe to come we know: 'Now has thy keftrell courage fell; And Faeries, fince a lie you tell, • Are free to work thee woe.'
Then Will, who bears the wifpy fire To trail the fwains among the mire, The caitive upward flung; There like a tortoife in a fhop He dangled from the chamber-top, Where whilome Edwin hung.
The revel now proceeds a-pace, Deftly they frifk it o'er the place, They fit, they drink, and eat: The time with frolick mirth beguile, And poor Sir Topaz hangs the while 'Till all the rout retreat.
By this the ftars began to wink, They fhriek, they fly, the tapers fink, And down ydrops the Knight.
For never spell by Faerie laid With ftrong enchantment bound a glade Beyond the length of night.
Chill, dark, alone, adreed, he lay, 'Till up the welkin rofe the day,
Then deem'd the dole was o'er:
But wot ye well his harder lot? His feely back the Bunch has got Which Edwin loft afore.
This tale a Sybil-Nurfe ared'; She foftly ftrok'd my youngling head, And when the tale was done,
Thus fome are born, my fon (fhe cries) With base impediments to rife,
And fome are born with none.
But virtue can itfelf advance
To what the fav'rite fools of chance
By fortune feem'd defign'd;
Virtue can gain the odds of fate,
•And from itself hake off the weight.
The MISERY of a TOWN-LIFE, and the HAPPINESS of a COUNTRY-ONE; exemplified in the STORY of the TowN-MOUSE and COUNTRY-MOUSE.. Imitated from HORACE. [SWIFT and POPE.]
'VE often wifh'd that I had clear
For life, fix hundred pounds a-year, A handfome houfe to lodge a friend, A river at my garden's end,
A terras-walk, and half a rood Of land, fet out to plant a wood.
Well, now I have all this and more,
I afk not to increase my
But here a grievance feems to lie,
All this is mine but till I die;
I can't but think 'twould found more clever, To me and to my y heirs for-ever.
If I ne'er got or loft a groat,.
By any trick, or any fault;. And if I pray by reafon's rules, And not like forty other fools:
As thus, "Vouchfafe, Oh gracious Maker! "To grant me this and t'other acre: "Or, if it be thy will and pleasure, "Direct my plough to find a treafure:"
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