HOWE'ER this fair, amid adventures dire, More sufferings shared than malice could desire; Though eight times, doubtless, she exchanged her knight No proof, that she her spouse was led to slight; 'Twas gratitude, compassion, or good will; The dread of worse;—she'd truly had her fill; Excuses just, to vindicate her fame, Who, spite of troubles, fanned the monarch's flame: Of eight the relict, still a maid received;— Apparently, the prince her pure believed; For, though at times we may be duped in this, Yet, after such a number—strange to miss! And I submit to those who've passed the scene, If they, to my opinion, do not lean.

THE king of Alexandria, Zarus named, A daughter had, who all his fondness claimed, A star divine Alaciel shone around, The charms of beauty's queen were in her found; With soul celestial, gracious, good, and kind, And all-accomplished, all-complying mind.

THE rumour of her worth spread far and wide, The king of Garba asked her for his bride, And Mamolin (the sov'reign of the spot,) To other princes had a pref'rence got.

THE fair, howe'er, already felt the smart Of Cupid's arrow, and had lost her heart; But 'twas not known: princesses love conceal, And scarcely dare its whispers fond reveal; Within their bosoms poignant pain remains, Though flesh and blood, like lasses of the plains.

THE noble Hispal, one of zarus' court, A handsome youth, as histories report, Alaciel pleased; a mutual flame arose, Though this they durst not venture to disclose Or, if expressed, 'twas solely by the eyes:— Soul-speaking language, nothing can disguise!

AFFIANCED thus, the princess, with a sigh, Prepared to part, and fully to comply. The father trusted her to Hispal's care, Without the least suspicion of the snare; They soon embarked and ploughed the briny main; With anxious hopes in time the port to gain.

WHEN they, from Egypt's coast had sailed a week; To gain the wind they saw a pirate seek, Which having done, he t'wards them bore in haste, To take the ship in which our fair was placed.

THE battle quickly raged; alike they erred; The pirates slaughter loved, and blood preferred, And, long accustomed to the stormy tide, Were most expert, and on their skill relied. In numbers, too, superior they were found; But Hisipal's valour greatly shone around, And kept the combat undecided long; At length Grifonio, wond'rous large and strong; With twenty sturdy, pirates got on board, And many soon lay gasping by the sword. Where'er he trod, grim death and horrour reigned; At length, the round the noble Hispal gained. His nervous arm laid many wretches low Rage marked his eyes, whene'er he dealt a blow:

BUT, while the youth was thus engaged in fight, Grifonio ran to gain a sweeter sight; The princess was on board full well he knew; No time he lost, but to her chamber flew; And, since his pleasures seemed to be her doom; He bore her like a sparrow from the room: But not content with such a charming fair, He took her diamonds, ornaments for hair, And those dear pledges ladies oft receive, When they a lover's ardent flame believe. Indeed, I've heard it hinted as a truth, (And very probable for such a youth,) That Hispal, while on board, his flame revealed; And what chagrin she felt was then concealed, The passage thinking an improper time, To shew a marked displeasure at his crime.

THE pirate-chief who carried off his prey, Had short-lived joy, for, wishing to convey His charming captive from the ship with speed; One vessel chanced a little to recede, Although securely fastened by the crew, With grappling hooks, as usually they do, When quite intent to pass, young Hispal made A blow, that dead at once the ruffian laid; His head and shoulders, severed from the trunk; Fell in the sea, and to the bottom sunk, Abjuring Mahomet, and all the tribe Of idle prophets, Catholics proscribe; Erect the rest upon the legs remained; The very posture as before retained; This curious sight no doubt a laugh had raised,— But in the moment, she, so lately praised, With dread Grifonio, fell beyond their view; To save her, straight the gallant Hispal flew. The ships, for want of pilots at the helm, At random drifted over Neptune's realm.

GRIM death the pirate forced to quit his slave; Buoyed up by clothes, she floated on the wave, 'Till Hispal succour lent, who saw 'twas vain To try with her the vessel to regain. He could, with greater ease, the fair convey To certain rocks, and thither bent his way; Those rocks to sailors oft destruction proved, But now the couple saved, who thither moved: 'Tis even said the jewels were not lost, But sweet Alaciel, howsoever tost, Preserved the caskets, which with strings were tied; And seizing these, the treasure drew aside.

OUR swimmer on his back the princess bore; The rock attained; but hardships were not o'er; Misfortunes dire the noble pair pursued And famine, worst of ills, around was viewed. No ship was near; the light soon passed away; The night the same; again appeared the day; No vessel hove in sight; no food to eat; Our couple's wretchedness seemed now complete; Hope left them both, and, mutual passion moved, Their situation more tormenting proved.

LONG time in silence they each other eyed At length, to speak the lovely charmer tried Said she, 'tis useless, Hispal, to bewail: Tears, with the cruel Parcae, naught avail; Each other to console be now our aim; Grim death his course will follow still the same. To mitigate the smart let's try anew; In such a place as this few joys accrue.

CONSOLE each other, say you? Hispal cried; What can console when forced one's love to hide? Besides, fair princess, ev'ry way 'tis clear, Improper 'twere for you to love while here; I equally could death or famine brave; But you I tremble for, and wish to save.

THESE words so pained the fair, that gushing tears Bedewed Alaciel's cheeks, her looks spoke fears; The ardent flame which she'd so long concealed; Burst forth in sighs, and all its warmth revealed; While such emotion Hispal's eyes expressed, That more than words his anxious wish confessed. These tender scenes were followed by a kiss, The prelude sweet of soft enchanting bliss; But whether taken, or by choice bestowed, Alike 'twas clear, their heaving bosoms glowed.

THOSE vows now o'er, said Hispal with a sigh, In this adventure, if we're doomed to die, Indiff'rent surely 'tis, the prey to be Of birds of air, or fishes of the sea; My reason tells me ev'ry grave's the same, Return we must, at last, from whence we came, Here ling'ring death alone we can expect; To brave the waves 'tis better to elect; I yet have strength, and 'tis not far to land; The wind sets fair: let's try to gain the strand; From rock to rock we'll go: I many view, Where I can rest; to THIS we'll bid adieu.

TO move, Alaciel readily agreed; Again our couple ventured to proceed; The casket safe in tow; the weather hot; From rock to rock with care our swimmer got; The princess, anxious on his back to keep:— New mode of traversing the wat'ry deep.

WITH Heav'n's assistance, and the rocks for rest, The youth, by hunger and fatigue oppressed, Uneasiness of mind, weighed down with care, Not for himself, but safety of the fair, A fast of two long tedious days now o'er, The casket and the belle he brought on shore:

I THINK you cry—how wond'rously exact, To bring the casket into ev'ry act! Is that a circumstance of weight I pray? It truly seems so, and without delay, You'll see if I be wrong; no airy flight, Or jeer, or raillery, have I in sight. Had I embarked our couple in a ship Without or cash or jewels for the trip, Distress had followed, you must be aware; 'Tis past our pow'r to live on love or air; In vain AFFECTION ev'ry effort tries Inexorable hunger ALL defies.

THE casket, with the diamonds proved a source, To which 'twas requisite to have recourse; Some Hispal sold, and others put in pawn, And purchased, near the coast, a house and lawn; With woods, extensive park, and pleasure ground; And many bow'rs and shady walks around, Where charming hours they passed, and this 'twas plain, Without the casket they could n'er obtain.

BENEATH the wood there was a secret grot, Where lovers, when they pleased, concealment got, A quiet, gloomy, solitary place, Designed by nature for the billing race.

ONE day, as through the grove a walk they sought, The god of love our couple thither brought; His wishes, Hispal, as they went along, Explained im part by words direct and strong; The rest his sighs expressed, (they spoke the soul;)— The princess, trembling, listened to the whole.

SAID he, we now are in a place retired, Unknown to man, (such spots how oft desired!) Let's take advantage of the present hour: No joys, but those of LOVE, are in our pow'r; All others see withdrawn! and no one knows We even live; perhaps both friends and foes Believe us in the belly of a whale; Allow me, lovely princess, to prevail; Bestow your kindness, or, without delay, Those charms to Mamolin let me convey. Yet, why go thither?—happy you could make The man, whose constancy no perils shake, What would you more?—his passion's ardent grown; And surely you've enough resistance shown.

SUCH tender elocution Hispal used, That e'en to marble, 'Twould have warmth infused; While fair Alaciel, on the bark of trees, With bodkin wrote, apparently at ease. But Cupid drew her thoughts to higher things, Than merely graving what from fancy springs. Her lover and the place, at once assured, That such a secret would be well secured; A tempting bait, which made her, with regret, Resist the witching charm that her beset.

UNLUCKILY, 'twas then the month of May, When youthful hearts are often led astray, And soft desire can scarcely be concealed, But presses through the pores to be revealed. How many do we see, by slow degrees, And, step by step, accord their ALL to please, Who, at the onset, never dreamed to grant The smallest favour to their fond gallant. The god of love so archly acts his part, And, in unguarded moments, melts the heart, That many belles have tumbled in the snare, Who, how it happened, scarcely could declare.

WHEN they had reached the pleasing secret spot; Young Hispal wished to go within the grot; Though nearly overcome, she this declined; But then his services arose to mind; Her life from Ocean's waves, her honour too, To him she owed; what could he have in view? A something, which already has been shown, Was saved through Hispal's nervous arm alone: Said he, far better bless a real friend, Than have each treasure rifled in the end, By some successful ruffian; think it o'er; You little dream for whom you guard the store.

THE princess felt the truth of this remark, And half surrendered to the loving spark; A show'r obliged the pair, without delay, To seek a shed:—the place I need not say; The rest within the grotto lies concealed:— The scenes of Cupid ne'er should be revealed. Alaciel blame, or not—I've many known, With less excuses, who've like favours shown.

ALONE the cavern witnessed not their bliss; In love, a point once gained, naught feels amiss, If trees could speak that grew within the dell, What joys they viewed—what stories they might tell! The park, the lawn, the pleasure grounds, and bow'rs, The belts of roses, and the beds of flow'rs, All, all could whisper something of the kind; At length, both longed their friends again to find, Quite cloyed with love, they sighed to be at court; Thus spoke the fair her wishes to support.

LOVED youth, to ME you must be ever dear; To doubt it would ungen'rous now appear; But tell me, pray, what's love without desire, Devoid of fear, and nothing to acquire? Flame unconfined is soon exhausted found, But, thwarted in its course 'twill long abound; I fear this spot, which we so highly prize, Will soon appear a desert in our eyes, And prove at last our grave; relieve my woe; At once to Alexandria, Hispal go; Alive pronounced, you presently will see, What worthy people think of you and me; Conceal our residence, declare you came, My journey to prepare, (your certain aim,) And see that I've a num'rous escort sent, To guard me from a similar event. By it, believe me, you shall nothing lose; And this is what I willingly would choose; For, be I single, or in Hymen's band, I'd have you follow me by sea and land, And be assured, should favour I withdraw, That I've observed in you some glaring flaw.

WERE her intentions fully as expressed, Or contrary to what her lips confessed, No matter which her view, 'twas very plain, If she would Hispal's services retain, 'Twere right the youth with promises to feed, While his assistance she so much must need: As soon as he was ready to depart She pressed him fondly to her glowing heart, And charged him with a letter to the king; This Hispal hastened to the prince to bring; Each sail he crowded:—plied with ev'ry oar; A wind quite fair soon brought him to shore; To court he went, where all with eager eyes, Demanded if he lived, amid surprise, And where he left the princess; what her state? These questions answered, Hispal, quite elate, Procured the escort, which, without delay, Though leaving him behind, was sent away: No dark mistrust retained the noble youth; But Zarus wished it: such appeared the truth.

BY one of early years the troop was led, A handsome lad, and elegantly bred. He landed with his party near the park. And these in two divided ere 'twas dark.

ONE half he left a guard upon the shore, And with the other hastened to the door, Where dwelled the belle, who daily fairer grew: Our chief was smitten instantly at view; And, fearing opportunity again, Like this, perhaps, he never might obtain, Avowed at once his passion to the fair; At which she frowned, and told him, with an air; To recollect his duty, and her rank:— With equals only, he should be so frank.

ON these occasions, prudent 'tis to show Your disappointment by a face of woe; Seem ev'ry way the picture of despair:— This countenance our knight appeared to wear; To starve himself he vowed was his design; To use the poniard he should ne'er incline, For then no time for penitence would rest.— The princess of his folly made a jest. He fasted one whole day; she-tried in vain To make him from the enterprise refrain.

AT length, the second day she 'gan to feel, And strong emotion scarcely could conceal. What! let a person die her charms could save! 'Twas cruel, thus to treat a youth so brave. Through pity, she at last, to please the chief, Consented to bestow on him relief; For, favours, when conferred with sullen air, But little gratify she was aware.

WHen satisfied the smart gallant appeared, And anxiously to putting off adhered, Pretending that the wind and tide would fail; The galleys sometimes were unfit to sail, Repairs required; then further heard the news, That certain pirates had unpleasant views; To fall upon the escort they'd contrived: At length, a pirate suddenly arrived, Surprized the party left upon the shore, Destroyed the whole; then sought the house for more, And scaled the walls while darkness spread around. The pirate was Grifonio's second found, Who, in a trice, the noble mansion took, And joy gave place to grief in ev'ry look.

THe Alexandrian swore and cursed his lot; The pirate soon the lady's story got, And, taking her aside, his share required Such impudence Alaciel's patience tired, Who, ev'ry thing refused with haughty air; Of this, howe'er, the robber was aware; In Venus' court no novice was he thought; To gain the princess anxiously he sought; Said he, you'd better take me as a friend; I'm more than pirate, and you'll comprehend, As you've obliged one dying swain to fast, You fast in turn, or you'll give way at last; 'Tis justice this demands: we sons of sea Know how to deal with those of each degree; Remember you will nothing have to eat, Till your surrender fully is complete.

NO haggling, princess pray, my word receive; What could be done, her terror to relieve? Above all law is might:—'twill take its course; Entire submission is the last resource.

OF'T what we would not, we're obliged to do, When fate our steps with rigour will pursue. No folly greater than to heighten pain, When we are sensible relief is vain. What she, through pity, to another gave, Might well be granted when herself 'twould save.

AT length she yielded to this suitor rude:— No grief so great, but what may be subdued. 'Twould in the pirate doubtless have been wise, The belle to move, and thus prevent surprise; But who, from folly in amours is free? The god of love and wisdom ne'er agree.

WHILE our gay pirate thought himself at ease, The wind quite fair to sail when he might please, Dame Fortune, sleepy only while we wake, And slily watching when repose we take, Contrived a trick the cunning knave to play, And this was put in force ere break of day.

A LORD, the owner of a neighb'ring seat, Unmarried;—fond of what was nice and neat, Without attachment, and devoid of care, Save something new to meet among the FAIR; Grew tired of those he long around had viewed, Now constantly, in thought, our belle pursued. He'd money, friends, and credit all his days, And could two thousand men at pleasure raise: One charming morn, together these he brought; Said he, brave fellows, can it well be thought, That we allow a pirate, (dire disgrace!) To plunder as he likes before our face, And make a slave of one whose form 's divine? Let's to the castle, such is my design, And from the ruffian liberate the fair; This evening ev'ry one will here repair, Well armed, and then in silence we'll proceed, (By night 'tis nothing will impede,) And ere Aurora peeps, perform the task; The only booty that I mean to ask Is this fair dame; but not a slave to make, I anxiously desire to let her take Whate'er is her's:—restore her honour too; All other things I freely leave to you; Men, horses, baggage, in a word, the whole Of what the knavish rascals now control. Another thing, howe'er:—I wish to hang The pirate instantly, before his gang.

THIS speech so well succeeded to inspire, That scarcely could the men retain their ire.

THE evening came, the party soon arrived; They ate not much, but drink their rage revived. By such expensive treats we've armies known, In Germany and Flanders overthrown; And our commander was of this aware 'Twas prudent, surely, no expense to spare.

THEY carried ladders for the escalade, And each was furnished with a tempered blade; No other thing embarrassing they'd got; No drums; but all was silent as the grot.

THEY reached the house when nearly break of day, The time old Morpheus' slumbers often weigh; The gang, with few exceptions, (then asleep), Were sent, their vigils with grim death to keep.

THE chief hung up:—the princess soon appeared; Her spirits presently our champion cheered; The pirate scarcely had her bosom moved:— No tears at least a marked affection proved; But, by her prayers she pardon sought to gain, For some who were not in the conflict slain; Consoled the dying, and lamented those, Who, by the sword, had closed their book of woes: Then left the place without the least regret, Where such adventures and alarms she'd met. 'Tis said, indeed, she presently forgot The two gallants who last became her lot; And I can easily the fact believe: Removed from sight, but few for lovers grieve.

SHE, by her neighbour, was received, we're told, 'Mid costly furniture and burnished gold; We may suppose what splendour shone around, When all-attracting he would fain be found; The best of wines; each dish considered rare:— The gods themselves received not better fare: Till then, Alaciel ne'er had tasted wine; Her faith forbade a liquor so divine; And, unacquainted with the potent juice, She much indulged at table in its use. If lately LOVE disquieted her brain, New poison now pervaded ev'ry vein; Both fraught with danger to the beauteous FAIR, Whose charms should guarded be with ev'ry care.

THE princess by the maids in bed was placed; Then thither went the host with anxious haste, What sought he? you will ask:—mere torpid charms:— I wish the like were clasped within my arms. Give me as much, said one the other week, And see if I'd a neighbour's kindness seek. Through Morpheus' sleepy pow'r, and Bacchus' wine: Our host, at length, completed his design.

ALACIEL, when at morn, she oped her eyes, Was quite o'ercome with terror and surprise, No tears would flow, and fear restrained her voice; Unable to resist, she'd got no choice.

A NIGHT thus passed, the wily lover said, Must surely give a license to your bed. The princess thought the same; but our gallant, Soon cloyed, for other conquests 'gan to pant.

THE host one evening from the mansion went; A friend he left himself to represent, And with the charming fair supply his place, Which, in the dark he thought, with easy grace, Might be effected, if he held his tongue, And properly behaved the whole night long. To this the other willingly agreed; (What friend would be refused, if thus in need?) And this new-comer had complete success He scarcely could his ecstacy express.

THE dame exclaimed:—pray how could he pretend; To treat me so, and leave me to a friend? The other thought the host was much to blame; But since 'tis o'er, said he, be now your aim, To punish his contempt of beauteous charms; With favours load me—take me to your arms; Caress with fond embrace; bestow delight; And seem to love me, though in mere despite.

SHE followed his advice: avenged the wrong; And naught omitted, pleasures to prolong. If he obtained his wishes from the fair, The host about it scarcely seemed to care.

THE sixth adventure of our charming belle, Some writers one way, some another tell; Whence many think that favour I have shown, And for her, one gallant the less would own. Mere scandal this; from truth I would nor swerve, To please the fair: more credence I deserve; Her husband only eight precursors had; The fact was such;—I none suppress nor add.

THE host returned and found his friend content; To pardon him Alaciel gave consent; And 'tween them things would equally divide Of royal bosoms clemency's the pride.

WHILE thus the princess passed from hand to hand She oft amused her fancy 'mong a band Of charming belles that on her would attend, And one of these she made an humble friend. The fav'rite in the house a lover had, A smart, engaging, handsome, clever lad, Well born, but much to violence inclined A wooer that could scarcely be confined To gentle means, but oft his suit began, Where others end, who follow Cupid's plan.

IT one day happened, that this forward spark; The girl we speak of, met within the park, And to a summer-house the fav'rite drew; The course they took the princess chanced to view As wand'ring near; but neither swain nor fair, Suspicion had, that any one was there; And this gallant most confidently thought, The girl by force, might to his terms be brought! His wretched temper, obstacle to love, And ev'ry bliss bestowed by heav'n above, Had oft his hopes of favours lately marred; And fear, with those designs, had also jarred: The girl, howe'er, would likely have been kind, If opportunities had pleased her mind.

THE lover, now convinced that he was feared; In dark designs upon her persevered. No sooner had she entered, than our man Locked instantly the door, but vain his plan; To open it the princess had a key; The girl her fault perceived, and tried to flee; He held her fast; the charmer loudly called; The princess came—or vainly she had squalled.

QUITE disappointed: overcome with ire, He wholly lost respect amid desire, And swore by all the gods, that, ere they went, The one or other should to him consent; Their hands he'd firmly tie to have his way; For help (the place so far) 'twere vain to pray; To take a lot was all that he'd allow; Come, draw, he said; to Fortune you must bow; No haggling I request—comply; be still: Resolved I am with one to have my will.

WHAT has the princess done? the girl replied, That you, to make her suffer, thus decide Yes, said the spark, if on her fall the lot, Then you'll, at least for present, be forgot.

NO, cried Alaciel, ne'er I'll have it said, To sacrifice I saw a maiden led; I'll suffer rather all that you expect, If you will spare my friend as I direct. 'Twas all in vain, the lots were drawn at last, And on the princess was the burthen cast; The other was permitted to retire, And each was sworn that nothing should transpire: But our gallant would sooner have been hung, Than have upon such secrets held his tongue; 'Tis clear, no longer silent he remained, Than one to listen to his tale he'd gained.

THIS change of favourites the princess grieved; That Cupid trifled with her she perceived; With much regret she saw her blooming charms, The Helen of too many Paris' arms.

ONE day it happened, as our beauteous belle Was sleeping in a wood beside a dell, By chance there passed, quite near, a wand'ring knight, Like those the ladies followed with delight, When they on palfreys rode in days of old, And purity were always thought to hold.

THIS knight, who copied those of famed romance, Sir Roger, and the rest, in complisance, No sooner saw the princess thus asleep, Than instantly he wished a kiss to reap. While thinking, whether from the neck or lip, 'Twere best the tempting balm of bliss to sip, He suddenly began to recollect The laws of chivalry he should respect. Although the thought retained, his fervent prayer To Cupid was, that while the nymph was there, Her fascinating charms he might enjoy; Sure love's soft senses were ne'er designed to cloy!

THE princess woke, and great surprise expressed; Oh! charming fair, said he, be not distressed; No savage of the woods nor giant 's nigh, A wand'ring knight alone you now descry, Delighted thus to meet a beauteous belle Such charms divine, what angel can excel!

THIS compliment was followed by his sighs, And frank confession, both from tongue and eyes; Our lover far in little time could go; At length, he offered on her to bestow, His hand and heart, and ev'ry thing beside, Which custom sanctions when we seek a bride.

WITH courtesy his offer was received, And she related what her bosom grieved; Detailed her hist'ry, but with care concealed The six gallants, as wrong to be revealed. The knight, in what he wished, indulgence got; And, while the princess much deplored her lot, The youth proposed Alaciel he should bring, To Mamolin, or Alexandria's king.

TO Mamolin? replied the princess fair, No, no—I now indeed would fain repair, (Could I my wishes have), to Zarus' court, My native country:—thither give support.

IF Cupid grant me life, rejoined the knight, You there shall go, and I'll assist your flight; To have redress, upon yourself depends, As well as to requite the best of friends; But should I perish in the bold design, Submit you must, as wills the pow'rs divine. I'll freely say, howe'er, that I regard, My services enough to claim reward.

ALACIEL readily to this agreed; And favours fondly promised to concede; T'ensure, indeed, his guarding her throughout, They were to be conferred upon the route, From time to time as onward they should go, Not all at once, but daily some to flow.

THINGS thus arranged, the fair behind the knight Got up at once, and with him took to flight. Our cavalier his servants sought to find, That, when he crossed the wood, he left behind; With these a nephew and his tutor rode; The belle a palfrey took, as more the mode, But, by her walked attentively the spark, A tale he'd now relate; at times remark The passing scene; then press his ardent flame; And thus amused our royal, beauteous dame.

THE treaty was most faithfully observed; No calculation wrong; from naught they swerved. At length they reached the sea; on ship-board got; A quick and pleasing passage was their lot; Delightfully serene, which joy increased; To land they came (from perils thought released;) At Joppa they debarked; two days remained: And when refreshed, the proper road they gained; Their escort was the lover's train alone; On Asia's shores to plunder bands are prone; By these were met our spark and lovely fair; New dangers they, alas! were forced to share.

TO cede, at first, their numbers forced the train; But rallied by our knight they were again; A desp'rate push he made; repulsed their force; And by his valour stopt, at length, their course; In which attack a mortal wound he got, But was not left for dead upon the spot.

BEFORE his death he full instructions gave, To grant the belle whatever she might crave; He ordered too, his nephew should convey, Alaciel to her home without delay, Bequeathing him whatever he possessed, And—what the princess owed among the rest.

AT length, from dread alarms and tears released, The pair fulfilled the will of our deceased; Discharged each favour was, of which the last Was cancelled just as they the frontiers passed.

THE nephew here his precious charge resigned, For fear the king should be displeased to find, His daughter guarded by a youthful swain:— The tutor only with her could remain.

NO words of mine, no language can express The monarch's joy his child to re-possess; And, since the difficulty I perceive, I'll imitate old Sol's retreat at eve, Who falls with such rapidity of view, He seems to plunge, dame Thetis to pursue.

THE tutor liked his own details to hear, And entertaining made his tales appear: The num'rous perils that the fair had fled, Who laughed aside, no doubt, at what he said.

I SHOULD observe, the aged tutor cried, The princess, while for liberty she sighed, And quite alone remained (by Hispal left,) That she might be of idleness bereft, Resolved most fervently a god to serve, From whom she scarcely since would ever swerve, A god much worshipped 'mong the people there, With num'rous temples which his honours share, Denominated cabinets and bow'rs, In which, from high respect to heav'nly pow'rs, They represent the image of a bird, A pleasing sight, though (what appears absurd) 'Tis bare of plumage, save about the wings; To this each youthful bosom incense brings, While other gods, as I've been often told, They scarcely notice, till they're growing old.

DID you but know the virtuous steps she trod, While thus devoted to the little god, You'd thank a hundred times the pow'rs above, That gave you such a child to bless your love. But many other customs there abound:— The FAIR with perfect liberty are found: Can go and come, whene'er the humour fits; No eunuch (shadow like) that never quits; But watches ev'ry movement:—always feared; No men, but who've upon the chin a beard: Your daughter from the first, their manners took: So easy is her ev'ry act and look, And truly to her honour I may say, She's all-accommodating ev'ry way.

THE king delighted seemed at what he heard; But since her journey could not be deferred, The princess, with a num'rous escort, tried Again o'er seas t'wards Garba's shores to glide, And, there arrived, was cordially received By Mamolin, who loved, she soon believed, To fond excess; and, all her suite to aid, A handsome gift to ev'ry one was made.

THE king with noble feasts the court regaled, At which Alaciel pleasantly detailed just what she liked, or true or false, 'twas clear; The prince and courtiers were disposed to hear.

AT night the queen retired to soft repose, From whence next morn with honour she arose; The king was found much pleasure to express; Alaciel asked no more, you well may guess.

BY this we learn, that husbands who aver Their wond'rous penetration often err; And while they fancy things so very plain, They've been preceded by a fav'rite swain. The safest rule 's to be upon your guard; Fear ev'ry guile; yet hope the full reward.

SWEET, charming FAIR, your characters revere; The Mamolin's a bird not common here. With us Love's fascination is so soon Succeeded by the licensed honey moon, There's scarcely opportunity to fool, Though oft the husband proves an easy tool.

YOUR friendships may be very chaste and pure, But strangely Cupid's lessons will allure. Defeat his wiles; resist his tempting charms E'en from suspicion suffer not alarms. Don't laugh at my advice; 'twere like the boys, Who better might amuse themselves with toys.

IF any one, howe'er unable seem, To make resistance 'gainst the flame supreme Turn ALL to jest; though right to keep the crown Yet lost, 'there wrong, yourself to hang or drown.



THE MAGICK CUP

THE worst of ills, with jealousy compared, Are trifling torments ev'ry where declared.

IMAGINE, to yourself a silly fool, To dark suspicion grown an easy tool; No soft repose he finds, by night or day; But rings his ear, he's wretched ev'ry way! Continually he dreams his forehead sprouts; The truth of reveries he never doubts. But this I would not fully guaranty, For he who dreams, 'tis said, asleep should be; And those who've caught, from time to time, a peep, Pretend to say—the jealous never sleep.

A MAN who has suspicions soon will rouse; But buz a fly around his precious spouse, At once he fancies cuckoldom is brought, And nothing can eradicate the thought; In spite of reason he must have a place, And numbered be, among the horned race; A cuckold to himself he freely owns, Though otherwise perhaps in flesh and bones.

GOOD folks, of cuckoldom, pray what's the harm, To give, from time to time, such dire alarm? What injury 's received, and what 's the wrong, At which so many sneer and loll their tongue? While unacquainted with the fact, 'tis naught; If known:—e'en then 'tis scarcely worth a thought. You think, however, 'tis a serious grief; Then try to doubt it, which may bring relief, And don't resemble him who took a sup, From out the celebrated magick cup. Be warned by others' ills; the tale I'll tell; Perhaps your irksomeness it may dispel.

BUT first, by reason let me prove, I pray, That evil such as this, and which you say, Oft weighs you down with soul-corroding care; Is only in the mind:—mere spright of air: Your hat upon your head for instance place, Less gently rather than's your usual case; Pray, don't it presently at ease remain? And from it do you aught amiss retain? Not e'en a spot; there's nothing half so clear; The features, too, they as before appear? No difference assuredly you see? Then how can cuckoldom an evil be? Such my conclusion, spite of fools or brutes, With whose ideas reason never suits.

YES, yes, but honour has, you know, a claim: Who e'er denied it?—never 'twas my aim. But what of honour?—nothing else is heard; At Rome a different conduct is preferred; The cuckold there, who takes the thing to heart, Is thought a fool, and acts a blockhead's part; While he, who laughs, is always well received And honest fellow through the town believed. Were this misfortune viewed with proper eyes, Such ills from cuckoldom would ne'er arise.

THAT advantageous 'tis, we now will prove: Folks laugh; your wife a pliant glove shall move; But, if you've twenty favourites around, A single syllable will ne'er resound. Whene'er you speak, each word has double force; At table, you've precedency of course, And oft will get the very nicest parts; Well pleased who serves you!—all the household smarts No means neglect your favour to obtain; You've full command; resistance would be vain. Whence this conclusion must directly spring: To be a cuckold is a useful thing.

AT cards, should adverse fortune you pursue; To take revenge is ever thought your due; And your opponent often will revoke, That you for better luck may have a cloak: If you've a friend o'er head and ears in debt: At once, to help him numbers you can get. You fancy these your rind regales and cheers She's better for it; more beautiful appears; The Spartan king, in Helen found new charms, When he'd recovered her from Paris' arms.

YOUR wife the same; to make her, in your eye, More beautiful 's the aim you may rely; For, if unkind, she would a hag be thought, Incapable soft love scenes to be taught. These reasons make me to my thesis cling,— To be a cuckold is a useful thing.

IF much too long this introduction seem, The obvious cause is clearly in the theme, And should not certainly be hurried o'er, But now for something from th' historick store.

A CERTAIN man, no matter for his name, His country, rank, nor residence nor fame, Through fear of accidents had firmly sworn, The marriage chain should ne'er by him be worn; No tie but friendship, from the sex he'd crave: If wrong or right, the question we will wave. Be this as 't will, since Hymen could not find Our wight to bear the wedded knot inclined, The god of love, to manage for him tried, And what he wished, from time to time supplied; A lively fair he got, who charms displayed, And made him father to a little maid; Then died, and left the spark dissolved in tears: Not such as flow for wives, (as oft appears) When mourning 's nothing more than change of dress: His anguish spoke the soul in great distress.

THE daughter grew in years, improved in mien, And soon the woman in her air was seen; Time rolls apace, and once she's ridded of her bib, Then alters daily, and her tongue gets glib, Each year still taller, till she's found at length; A perfect belle in look, in age, in strength. His forward child, the father justly feared, Would cheat the priest of fees so much revered; The lawyer too, and god of marriage-joys; Sad fault, that future prospects oft destroys: To trust her virtue was not quite so sure; He chose a convent, to be more secure, Where this young charmer learned to pray and sew; No wicked books, unfit for girls to know, Corruption's page the senses to beguile Dan Cupid never writes in convent style:

OF nothing would she talk but holy-writ; On which she could herself so well acquit, That oft the gravest teachers were confused; To praise her beauty, scarcely was excused; No flatt'ry pleasure gave, and she'd reply: Good sister stay!—consider, we must die; Each feature perishes:—'tis naught but clay; And soon will worms upon our bodies prey: Superior needle-work our fair could do; The spindle turn at ease:—embroider too; Minerva's skill, or Clotho's, could impart; In tapestry she'd gained Arachne's art; And other talents, too, the daughter showed; Her sense, wealth, beauty, soon were spread abroad: But most her wealth a marked attention drew; The belle had been immured with prudent view, To keep her safely till a spouse was found, Who with sufficient riches should abound. From convents, heiresses are often led Directly to the altar to be wed.

SOME time the father had the girl declared His lawful child, who all his fondness shared. As soon as she was free from convent walls, Her taste at once was changed from books to balls; Around Calista (such was named our fair) A host of lovers showed attentive care; Cits, courtiers, officers, the beau, the sage, Adventurers of ev'ry rank and age.

FROM these Calista presently made choice, Of one for whom her father gave his voice; A handsome lad, and thought good humoured too Few otherwise appear when first they woo. Her fortune ample was; the dow'r the same; The belle an only child; the like her flame. But better still, our couple's chief delight, Was mutual love and pleasure to excite.

TWO years in paradise thus passed the pair, When bliss was changed to Hell's worst cank'ring care; A fit of jealousy the husband grieved, And, strange to tell, he all at once believed, A lover with success his wife addressed, When, but for him, the suit had ne'er been pressed; For though the spark, the charming fair to gain, Would ev'ry wily method try, 'twas plain, Yet had the husband never terrors shown, The lover, in despair, had quickly flown.

WHAT should a husband do whose wife is sought, With anxious fondness by another? Naught. 'Tis this that leads me ever to advise, To sleep at ease whichever side he lies. In case she lends the spark a willing ear, 'Twill not be better if you interfere: She'll seek more opportunities you'll find; But if to pay attention she's inclined, You'll raise the inclination in her brain, And then the danger will begin again.

WHERE'ER suspicion dwells you may be sure, To cuckoldom 'twill prove a place secure. But Damon (such the husband's name), 'tis clear, Thought otherwise, as we shall make appear. He merits pity, and should be excused, Since he, by bad advice, was much abused; When had he trusted to himself to guide, He'd acted wisely,'—hear and you'll decide.

THE Enchantress Neria flourished in those days; E'en Circe, she excelled in Satan's ways; The storms she made obedient to her will, And regulated with superior skill; In chains the destinies she kept around; The gentle zephyrs were her sages found; The winds, her lacqueys, flew with rapid course; Alert, but obstinate, with pow'rful force.

WITH all her art th' enchantress could not find, A charm to guard her 'gainst the urchin blind; Though she'd the pow'r to stop the star of day, She burned to gain a being formed of clay. If merely a salute her wish had been, She might have had it, easily was seen; But bliss unbounded clearly was her view, And this with anxious ardour she'd pursue. Though charms she had, still Damon would remain, To her who had his heart a faithful swain: In vain she sought the genial soft caress: To Neria naught but friendship he'd express. Like Damon, husbands nowhere now are found, And I'm not certain, such were e'er on ground. I rather fancy, hist'ry is not here, What we would wish, since truth it don't revere, I nothing in the hippogriff perceive, Or lance enchanted, but we may believe; Yet this I must confess has raised surprise, Howe'er, to pass it will perhaps suffice; I've many passed the same,—in ancient days; Men different were from us: had other ways; Unlike the present manners, we'll suppose; Or history would other facts disclose.

THE am'rous Neria to obtain her end, Made use of philters, and would e'en descend; To ev'ry wily look and secret art, That could to him she loved her flame impart. Our swain his marriage vow to this opposed; At which th' enchantress much surprise disclosed. You doubtless fancy, she exclaimed one day, That your fidelity must worth display; But I should like to know if equal care, Calista takes to act upon the square. Suppose your wife had got a smart gallant, Would you refuse as much a fair to grant? And if Calista, careless of your fame, Should carry to extremes a guilty flame, Would you but half way go? I truly thought, By sturdy hymen thus you'd not be caught. Domestick joys should be to cits confined; For none but such were scenes like those designed.

BUT as to you:—decline Love's choice pursuit! No anxious wish to taste forbidden fruit? Though such you banish from your thoughts I see, A friend thereto I fain would have you be. Come make the trial: you'll Calista find, Quite new again when to her arms resigned. But let me tell you, though your wife be chaste, Erastus to your mansion oft is traced.

AND do you think, cried Damon with an air, Erastus visits as a lover there? Too much he seems, my friend, to act a part, That proves the villain both in head and heart.

SAID Neria, mortified at this reply, Though he's a friend on whom you may rely, Calista beauty has; much worth the man, With smart address to execute his plan; And when we meet accomplishments so rare; Few women but will tumble in the snare.

THIS conversation was by Damon felt, A wife, brisk, young, and formed 'mid joys to melt; A man well versed in Cupid's wily way; No courtier bolder of the present day; Well made and handsome, with attractive mind; Wo what might happen was the husband blind? Whoever trusts implicitly to friends, Too oft will find, on shadows he depends. Pray where's the devotee, who could withstand, The tempting glimpse of charms that all command; Which first invite by halves: then bolder grow, Till fascination spreads, and bosoms glow? Our Damon fancied this already done, Or, at the best, might be too soon begun: On these foundations gloomy views arose, Chimeras dire, destructive of repose.

TH' enchantress presently a hint received, That those suspicions much the husband grieved; And better to succeed and make him fret, She told him of a thing, 'mong witches met, 'Twas metamorphose-water (such the name) With this could Damon take Erastus' frame; His gait, his look, his carriage, air and voice Thus changed, he easily could mark her choice, Each step observe:—enough, he asked no more, Erastus' shape the husband quickly bore; His easy manner, and appearance caught: With captivating smiles his wife he sought. And thus addressed the fair with ev'ry grace:— How blithe that look! enchanting is your face; Your beauty's always great, I needs must say, But never more delightful than to-day.

CALISTA saw the flatt'ring lover's scheme; And turned to ridicule the wily theme. His manner Damon changed, from gay to grave: Now sighs, then tears; but nothing could enslave; The lady, virtue firmly would maintain; At length, the husband, seeing all was vain, Proposed a bribe, and offered such a sum, Her anger dropt: the belle was overcome. The price was very large, it might excuse, Though she at first was prompted to refuse; At last, howe'er her chastity gave way: To gold's allurements few will offer nay! The cash, resistance had so fully laid, Surrender would at any time be made. The precious ore has universal charms, Enchains the will, or sets the world in arms!

THOUGH elegant your form, and smart your dress, Your air, your language, ev'ry warmth express Yet, if a banker, or a financier, With handsome presents happen to appear, At once is blessed the wealthy paramour, While you a year may languish at the door.

THIS heart, inflexible, it seems, gave ground, To money's pow'rful, all-subduing sound; The rock now disappeared—and, in its stead, A lamb was found, quite easy to be led, Who, as a proof, resistance she would wave, A kiss, by way of earnest freely gave. No further would the husband push the dame, Nor be himself a witness of his shame, But straight resumed his form, and to his wife, Cried, O Calista! once my soul and life Calista, whom I fondly cherished long; Calista, whose affection was so strong; Is gold more dear than hearts in union twined? To wash thy guilt, thy blood should be assigned. But still I love thee, spite of evil thought; My death will pay the ills thou'st on me brought.

THE metamorphosis our dame surprised; To give relief her tears but just sufficed; She scarcely spoke; the husband, days remained, Reflecting on the circumstance that pained. Himself a cuckold could he ever make, By mere design a liberty to take? But, horned or not? the question seemed to be, When Neria told him, if from doubts not free, Drink from the cup:—with so much art 'tis made, That, whose'er of cuckoldom 's afraid, Let him but put it to his eager lips If he's a cuckold, out the liquor slips; He naught can swallow; and the whole is thrown About his face or clothes, as oft 's been shown. But should, from out his brow, no horns yet pop— He drinks the whole, nor spills a single drop.

THE doubt to solve, our husband took a sup, From this famed, formidably, magick cup; Nor did he any of the liquor waste:— Well, I am safe, said he, my wife is chaste, Though on myself it wholly could depend; But from it what have I to apprehend? Make room, good folks, who leafless branches wear; If you desire those honours I should share. Thus Damon spoke, and to his precious wife A curious sermon preached, it seems, on life.

IF cuckoldom, my friends, such torments give; 'Tis better far 'mong savages to live!

LEST worse should happen, Damon settled spies, Who, o'er his lady watched with Argus' eyes. She turned coquette; restraints the FAIR awake, And only prompt more liberties to take. The silly husband secrets tried to know, And rather seemed to seek the wily foe, Which fear has often rendered fatal round, When otherwise the ill had ne'er been found.

FOUR times an hour his lips to sip he placed; And clearly, for a week was not disgraced. Howe'er, no further went his ease of mind; Oh, fatal science! fatally designed! With fury Damon threw the cup away, And, in his rage, himself inclined to slay.

HIS wife he straight shut up within a tower, Where, morn and night, he showed a husband's pow'r, Reproach bestowed: while she bewailed her lot, 'Twere better far, if he'd concealed the blot; For now, from mouth to mouth, and ear to ear, It echoed, and re-echoed far and near.

MEANWHILE Calista led a wretched life; No gold nor jewels Damon left his wife, Which made the jailer faithful, since 'twere vain To hope, unbribed, this Cerberus to gain.

AT length, the wife a lucky moment sought, When Damon seemed by soft caresses caught. Said she, I've guilty been, I freely own; But though my crime is great, I'm not alone; Alas! how few escape from like mishap; 'Mong Hymen's band so common is the trap; And though at you the immaculate may smile, What use to fret and all the sex revile?

WELL I'll console myself, and pardon you, Cried Damon, when sufficient I can view, Of ornamented foreheads, just like mine, To form among themselves a royal line; 'Tis only to employ the magick cup, From which I learned your secrets by a sup.

HIS plan to execute, the husband went, And ev'ry passenger was thither sent, Where Damon entertained, with sumptuous fare; And, at the end, proposed the magick snare: Said he, my wife played truant to my bed; Wish you to know if your's be e'er misled? 'Tis right how things go on at home to trace, And if upon the cup your lips you place, In case your wife be chaste, there'll naught go wrong; But, if to Vulcan's troop you should belong, And prove an antlered brother, you will spill The liquor ev'ry way, in spite of skill.

TO all the men, that Damon could collect, The cup he offered, and they tried th' effect; But few escaped, at which they laughed or cried, As feelings led, or cuckoldom they spied, Whose surly countenance the wags believed, In many houses near, might be perceived.

ALREADY Damon had sufficient found, To form a regiment and march around; At times they threatened governors to hang, Unless they would surrender to their gang; But few they wanted to complete the force, And soon a royal army made of course. From day to day their numbers would augment, Without the beat of drum, to great extent; Their rank was always fixed by length of horn: Foot soldiers those, whose branches short were borne; Dragoons, lieutenants, captains, some became, And even colonels, those of greater fame. The portion spilled by each from out the vase Was taken for the length, and fixed the place. A wight, who in an instant spilled the whole, Was made a gen'ral: not commander sole, For many followed of the same degree, And 'twas determined they should equals be.

THE rank and file now nearly found complete, And full enough an enemy to beat, Young Reynold, nephew of famed Charlemain, By chance came by: the spark they tried to gain, And, after treating him with sumptuous cheer, At length the magick cup mas made appear; But no way Reynold could be led to drink: My wife, cried he, I truly faithful think, And that's enough; the cup can nothing more; Should I, who sleep with two eyes, sleep with four? I feel at ease, thank heav'n, and have no dread, Then why to seek new cares should I be led? Perhaps, if I the cup should hold awry, The liquor out might on a sudden fly; I'm sometimes awkward, and in case the cup Should fancy me another, who would sup, The error, doubtless, might unpleasant be: To any thing but this I will agree, To give you pleasure, Damon, so adieu; Then Reynold from the antlered corps withdrew.

SAID Damon, gentlemen, 'tis pretty clear, So wise as Reynold, none of us appear; But let's console ourselves;—'tis very plain, The same are others:—to repine were vain.

AT length, such numbers on their rolls they bore; Calista liberty obtained once more, As promised formerly, and then her charms Again were taken to her spouse's arms.

LET Reynold's conduct, husbands, be your line; Who Damon's follows surely will repine. Perhaps the first should have been made the chief; Though, doubtless, that is matter of belief. No mortal can from danger feel secure; To be exempt from spilling, who is sure? Nor Roland, Reynold, nor famed Charlemain, But what had acted wrong to risk the stain.



THE FALCON

I RECOLLECT, that lately much I blamed, The sort of lover, avaricious named; And if in opposites we reason see, The liberal in paradise should be. The rule is just and, with the warmest zeal, To prove the fact I to the CHURCH appeal.

IN Florence once there dwelled a gentle youth, Who loved a certain beauteous belle with truth; O'er all his actions she had full controul;— To please he would have sold his very soul. If she amusements wished, he'd lavish gold, Convinced in love or war you should be bold; The cash ne'er spare:—invincible its pow'rs, O'erturning walls or doors where'er it show'rs. The precious ore can every thing o'ercome; 'Twill silence barking curs: make servants dumb; And these can render eloquent at will:— Excel e'en Tully in persuasive skill; In short he'd leave no quarter unsubdued, Unless therein the fair he could include.

SHE stood th' attack howe'er, and Frederick failed; His force was vain whenever he assailed; Without the least return his wealth he spent: Lands, houses, manors of immense extent, Were ev'ry now and then to auction brought; To gratify his love was all he thought.

THE rank of 'squire till lately he had claimed; Now scarcely was he even mister named; Of wealth by Cupid's stratagems bereft, A single farm was all the man had left; Friends very few, and such as God alone, Could tell if friendship they might not disown; The best were led their pity to express; 'Twas all he got: it could not well be less; To lend without security was wrong, And former favours they'd forgotten long; With all that Frederick could or say or do, His liberal conduct soon was lost to view.

WITH Clytia he no longer was received, Than while he was a man of wealth believed; Balls, concerts, op'ras, tournaments, and plays, Expensive dresses, all engaging ways, Were used to captivate this lady fair, While scarcely one around but in despair, Wife, widow, maid, his fond affection sought; To gain him, ev'ry wily art was brought; But all in vain:—by passion overpow'red, The belle, whose conduct others would have soured, To him appeared a goddess full of charms, Superior e'en to Helen, in his arms; From whence we may conclude, the beauteous dame Was always deaf to Fred'rick's ardent flame.

ENAMOURED of the belle, his lands he sold; The family estates were turned to gold; And many who the purchases had made, With pelf accumulated by their trade, Assumed the airs of men of noble birth:— Fair subjects oft for ridicule and mirth!

RICH Clytia was, and her good spouse, 'tis said, Had lands which far and wide around were spread; No cash nor presents she would ever take, Yet suffered Frederick splendid treats to make, Without designing recompense to grant, Or being more than merely complaisant.

ALREADY, if my mem'ry do not fail, I've said, the youth's estates were put to sale, To pay for feasts the fair to entertain, And what he'd left was only one domain, A petty farm to which he now retired; Ashamed to show where once so much admired, And wretched too, a prey to lorn despair, Unable to obtain by splendid care, A beauty he'd pursued six years and more, And should for ever fervently adore. His want of merit was the cause he thought, That she could never to his wish be brought, While from him not a syllable was heard, Against the lovely belle his soul preferred.

'MID poverty oft Fred'rick sighed and wept; A toothless hag—his only servant kept; His kitchen cold; (where commonly he dwelled;) A pretty decent horse his stable held; A falcon too; and round about the grange, Our quondam 'squire repeatedly would range, Where oft, to melancholy, he was led, To sacrifice the game which near him fed; By Clytia's cruelty the gun was seized, And feathered victims black chagrin appeased.

'TWAS thus the lover whiled his hours away; His heart-felt torments nothing could allay; Blessed if with fortune love he'd also lost, Which constantly his earthly comforts crossed; But this lorn passion preyed upon his mind:— Where'er he rode, BLACK CARE would mount behind.

DEATH took at length the husband of the fair; An only son appointed was his heir, A sickly child, whose life, 'twas pretty plain, Could scarcely last till spring returned again, Which made the husband, by his will, decree, His wife the infant's successor should be, In case the babe at early years should die, Who soon grew worse and raised the widow's sigh.

TOO much affection parents ne'er can show:— A mother's feelings none but mothers know.

FAIR Clytia round her child with anxious care, Watched day and night, and no expense would spare; Inquired if this or that would please his taste; What he desired should be procured with haste; But nothing would he have that she proposed; An ardent wish howe'er the boy disclosed, For Fred'rick's Falcon, and most anxious grew:— Tear followed tear, and nothing else would do. When once a child has got a whim in brain, No peace, no rest, till he the boon obtain.

WE should observe our belle, near Fred'rick's cot, A handsome house and many lands had got; 'Twas there the lovely babe had lately heard, Most wondrous stories of the bird averred; No partridge e'er escaped its rapid wing:— On every morn down numbers it would bring; No money for it would its owner take; Much grieved was Clytia such request to make. The man, for her, of wealth had been bereft; How ask the only treasure he had left? And him if she were led to importune, Could she expect that he'd accord the boon? Alas! ungratefully she oft repaid, His liberal treats, his concerts, serenade, And haughtily behaved from first to last: How be so bold, (reflecting on the past,) To see the man that she so ill had used? And ask a favour?—could she be excused? But then her child!—perhaps his life 'twould save; Naught would he take; the falcon she must crave.

THAT her sweet babe might be induced to eat, So meant the bird of Fred'rick to intreat; Her boy was heard continually to cry, Unless he had the falcon, he should die.

THESE reasons strongly with the mother weighed; Her visit to the 'squire was not delayed; With fond affection for her darling heir, One morn, alone she sought the lorn repair.

TO Fred'rick's eye an angel she appeared; But shame he felt, that she, his soul revered, Should find him poor:—no servants to attend, Nor means to give a dinner to a friend. The poverty in which he now was viewed, Distressed his mind and all his griefs renewed. Why come? said he; what led you thus to trace, An humble slave of your celestial face? A villager, a wretched being here; Too great the honour doubtless must appear; 'Twas somewhere else you surely meant to go? The lady in a moment answered no. Cried he, I've neither cook nor kettle left; Then how can I receive you, thus bereft? But you have bread, said Clytia:—that will do;— The lover quickly to the poultry flew, In search of eggs; some bacon too he found; But nothing else, except the hawk renowned, Which caught his eye, and instantly was seized, Slain, plucked, and made a fricassee that pleased.

MEANWHILE the house-keeper for linen sought; Knives, forks, plates, spoons, cups, glass and chairs she brought; The fricassee was served, the dame partook, And on the dish with pleasure seemed to look.

THE dinner o'er, the widow then resolved, To ask the boon which in her mind resolved. She thus begun:—good sir, you'll think me mad, To come and to your breast fresh trouble add; I've much to ask, and you will feel surprise, That one, for whom your love could ne'er suffice, Should now request your celebrated bird; Can I expect the grant?—the thought 's absurd But pardon pray a mother's anxious fear; 'Tis for my child:—his life to me is dear. The falcon solely can the infant save; Yet since to you I nothing ever gave, For all your kindness oft on me bestowed; Your fortune wasted:—e'en your nice abode, Alas! disposed of, large supplies to raise, To entertain and please in various ways: I cannot hope this falcon to obtain; For sure I am the expectation's vane; No, rather perish child and mother too; Than such uneasiness should you pursue: Allow howe'er this parent, I beseech, Who loves her offspring 'yond the pow'r of speech, Or language to express, her only boy, Sole hope, sole comfort, all her earthly joy, True mother like, to seek her child's relief, And in your breast deposit now her grief. Affection's pow'r none better know than you,— How few to love were ever half so true! From such a bosom I may pardon crave Soft pity's ever with the good and brave!

ALAS! the wretched lover straight replied, The bird was all I could for you provide; 'Twas served for dinner.—Dead?—exclaimed the dame, While trembling terror overspread her frame. No jest, said he, and from the soul I wish, My heart, instead of that, had been the dish; But doomed alas! am I by fate, 'tis clear, To find no grace with her my soul holds dear: I'd nothing left; and when I saw the bird, To kill it instantly the thought occurred; Those naught we grudge nor spare to entertain, Who o'er our feeling bosoms sov'reign reign: All I can do is speedily to get, Another falcon: easily they're met; And by to-morrow I'll the bird procure. No, Fred'rick, she replied, I now conjure You'll think no more about it; what you've done Is all that fondness could have shown a son; And whether fate has doomed the child to die, Or with my prayers the pow'rs above comply; For you my gratitude will never end— Pray let us hope to see you as a friend.

THEN Clytia took her leave, and gave her hand; A proof his love no more she would withstand. He kissed and bathed her fingers with his tears; The second day grim death confirmed their fears:

THE mourning lasted long and mother's grief; But days and months at length bestowed relief; No wretchedness so great, we may depend, But what, to time's all-conqu'ring sithe will bend:

TWO famed physicians managed with such care; That they recovered her from wild despair, And tears gave place to cheerfulness and joy:— The one was TIME the other Venus' Boy. Her hand fair Clytia on the youth bestowed, As much from love as what to him she owed.

LET not this instance howsoe'r mislead; 'Twere wrong with hope our fond desires to feed, And waste our substance thus:—not all the FAIR, Possess of gratitude a decent share. With this exception they appear divine; In lovely WOMAN angel-charms combine; The whole indeed I do not here include; Alas; too many act the jilt and prude. When kind, they're ev'ry blessing found below: When otherwise a curse we often know.



THE LITTLE DOG

THE key, which opes the chest of hoarded gold. Unlocks the heart that favours would withhold. To this the god of love has oft recourse, When arrows fail to reach the secret source, And I'll maintain he's right, for, 'mong mankind, Nice presents ev'ry where we pleasing find; Kings, princes, potentates, receive the same, And when a lady thinks she's not to blame, To do what custom tolerates around; When Venus' acts are only Themis' found, I'll nothing 'gainst her say; more faults than one, Besides the present, have their course begun.

A MANTUAN judge espoused a beauteous fair: Her name was Argia:—Anselm was her care, An aged dotard, trembling with alarms, While she was young, and blessed with seraph charms. But, not content with such a pleasing prize, His jealousy appeared without disguise, Which greater admiration round her drew, Who doubtless merited, in ev'ry view, Attention from the first in rank or place So elegant her form, so fine her face.

'TWOULD endless prove, and nothing would avail, Each lover's pain minutely to detail: Their arts and wiles; enough 'twill be no doubt, To say the lady's heart was found so stout, She let them sigh their precious hours away, And scarcely seemed emotion to betray.

WHILE at the judge's, Cupid was employed, Some weighty things the Mantuan state annoyed, Of such importance, that the rulers meant, An embassy should to the Pope be sent. As Anselm was a judge of high degree, No one so well embassador could be.

'TWAS with reluctance he agreed to go, And be at Rome their mighty Plenipo'; The business would be long, and he must dwell Six months or more abroad, he could not tell. Though great the honour, he should leave his dove, Which would be painful to connubial love. Long embassies and journeys far from home Oft cuckoldom around induce to roam.

THE husband, full of fears about his wife; Exclaimed—my ever—darling, precious life, I must away; adieu, be faithful pray, To one whose heart from you can never stray But swear to me, my duck, (for, truth to tell, I've reason to be jealous of my belle,) Now swear these sparks, whose ardour I perceive, Have sighed without success, and I'll believe. But still your honour better to secure, From slander's tongue, and virtue to ensure, I'd have you to our country-house repair; The city quit:—these sly gallants beware; Their presents too, accurst invention found, With danger fraught, and ever much renowned; For always in the world, where lovers move, These gifts the parent of assentment prove. 'Gainst those declare at once; nor lend an ear To flattery, their cunning sister-peer. If they approach, shut straight both ears and eyes; For nothing you shall want that wealth supplies; My store you may command; the key behold, Where I've deposited my notes and gold. Receive my rents; expend whate'er you please; I'll look for no accounts; live quite at ease; I shall be satisfied with what you do, If naught therein to raise a blush I view; You've full permission to amuse your mind; Your love, howe'er, for me alone's designed; That, recollect, must be for my return, For which our bosoms will with ardour burn.

THE good man's bounty seemingly was sweet; All pleasures, one excepted, she might greet; But that, alas! by bosoms unpossessed, No happiness arises from the rest: His lady promised ev'ry thing required:— Deaf, blind, and cruel,—whosoe'er admired; And not a present would her hand receive At his return, he fully might believe, She would be found the same as when he went, Without gallant, or aught to discontent.

HER husband gone, she presently retired Where Anselm had so earnestly desired; The lovers came, but they were soon dismissed, And told, from visits they must all desist; Their assiduities were irksome grown, And she was weary of their lovesick tone. Save one, they all were odious to the fair; A handsome youth, with smart engaging air; But whose attentions to the belle were vain; In spite of arts, his aim he could not gain; His name was Atis, known to love and arms, Who grudged no pains, could he possess her charms. Each wile he tried, and if he'd kept to sighs, No doubt the source is one that never dries; But often diff'rent with expense 'tis found; His wealth was wasted rapidly around He wretched grew; at length for debt he fled, And sought a desert to conceal his head. As on the road he moved, a clown he met, Who with his stick an adder tried to get, From out a thicket, where it hissing lay, And hoped to drive the countryman away: Our knight his object asked; the clown replied, To slay the reptile anxiously I tried; Wherever met, an adder I would kill: The race should be extinct if I'd my will.

WHY would'st thou, friend, said Atis, these destroy? God meant that all should freely life enjoy. The youthful knight for reptiles had, we find, Less dread than what prevails with human kind; He bore them in his arms:—they marked his birth; From noble Cadmus sprung, who, when on earth, At last, to serpent was in age transformed; The adder's bush the clown no longer stormed; No more the spotted reptile sought to stay, But seized the time, and quickly crept away.

AT length our lover to a wood retired; To live concealed was what the youth desired; Lorn silence reigned, except from birds that sang, And dells that oft with sweetest echo rang. There HAPPINESS and frightful MIS'RY lay, Quite undistinguished: classed with beasts of prey; That growling prowled in search of food around: There Atis consolation never found. LOVE thither followed, and, however viewed, 'Twas vain to hope his passion to elude; Retirement fed the tender, ardent flame, And irksome ev'ry minute soon became. Let us return, cried he, since such our fate: 'Tis better, Atis, bear her frowns and hate, Than of her beauteous features lose the view; Ye nightingales and streams, ye woods adieu! When far from her I neither see nor hear: 'Tis she alone my senses still revere; A slave I am, who fled her dire disdain; Yet seek once more to wear the cruel chain.

AS near some noble walls our knight arrived, Which fairy-hands to raise had once contrived, His eyes beheld, at peep of early morn, When bright Aurora's beams the earth adorn, A beauteous nymph in royal robes attired, Of noble mien, and formed to be admired, Who t'ward him drew, with pleasing, gracious air, While he was wrapped in thought, a prey to care.

SAID she, I'd have you, Atis, happy be; 'Tis in my pow'r, and this I hope to see; A fairy greet me, Manto is my name:— Your friend, and one you've served unknown:—the same My fame you've heard, no doubt; from me proceeds The Mantuan town, renowned for ancient deeds; In days of yore I these foundations laid, Which in duration, equal I have made, To those of Memphis, where the Nile's proud course Majestically flows from hidden source. The cruel Parcae are to us unknown; We wond'rous magick pow'rs have often shown; But wretched, spite of this, appears our lot Death never comes, though various ills we've got, For we to human maladies are prone, And suffer greatly oft, I freely own.

ONCE, in each week to serpents we are changed; Do you remember how you here arranged, To save an adder from a clown's attack? 'Twas I, the furious rustick wished to hack, When you assisted me to get away; For recompense, my friend, without delay, I'll you procure the kindness of the fair, Who makes you love and drives you to despair: We'll go and see her:—be assured from me, Before two days are passed, as I foresee, You'll gain, by presents, Argia and the rest, Who round her watch, and are the suitor's pest. Grudge no expense, be gen'rous, and be bold, Your handfuls scatter, lavish be of gold. Assured you shall not want the precious ore; For I command the whole of Plutus' store, Preserved, to please me, in the shades below; This charmer soon our magick pow'r shall know.

THE better to approach the cruel belle, And to your suit her prompt consent compel, Myself transformed you'll presently perceive; And, as a little dog, I'll much achieve, Around and round I'll gambol o'er the lawn, And ev'ry way attempt to please and fawn, While you, a pilgrim, shall the bag-pipe play; Come, bring me to the dame without delay.

NO sooner said, the lover quickly changed, Together with the fairy, as arranged; A pilgrim he, like Orpheus, piped and sang; While Manto, as a dog, skipt, jumped, and sprang.

THEY thus proceeded to the beauteous dame; Soon valets, maids, and others round them came; The dog and pilgrim gave extreme delight And all were quite diverted at the sight.

THE lady heard the noise, and sent her maid, To learn the reason why they romped and played: She soon returned and told the lovely belle, A spaniel danced, and even spoke so well, it ev'ry thing could fully understand, And showed obedience to the least command. 'Twere better come herself and take a view: The things were wond'rous that the dog could do.

THE dame at any price the dog would buy, In case the master should the boon deny. To give the dog our pilgrim was desired; But though he would not grant the thing required; He whispered to the maid the price he'd take, And some proposals was induced to make. Said he, 'tis true, the creature 's not for sale; Nor would I give it: prayers will ne'er prevail; Whate'er I chance to want from day to day, It furnishes without the least delay. To have my wish, three words alone I use, Its paw I squeeze, and whatsoe'er I choose, Of gold, or jewels, fall upon the ground; Search all the world, there's nothing like it found. Your lady's rich, and money does not want; Howe'er, my little dog to her I'll grant If she'll a night permit me in her bed, The treasure shall at once to her be led.

THE maid at this proposal felt surprise; Her mistress truly! less might well suffice; A paltry knave! cried she, it makes me laugh; What! take within her bed a pilgrim's staff! Were such a circumstance abroad to get, My lady would with ridicule be met; The dog and master, probably, were last Beneath a hedge, or on a dunghill cast; A house like this they'll never see agen;— But then the master is the pride of men, And that in love is ev'ry thing we find Much wealth and beauty please all womankind!

HIS features and his mien the knight had changed; Each air and look for conquest were arranged. The maid exclaimed: when such a lover sues, How can a woman any thing refuse? Besides the pilgrim has a dog, 'tis plain, Not all the wealth of China could obtain. Yet to possess my lady for a night, Would to the master be supreme delight:

I SHOULD have mentioned, that our cunning spark; The dog would whisper (feigning some remark,) On which ten ducats tumbled at his feet; These Atis gave the maid, (O deed discreet;) Then fell a diamond: this our wily wight Took up, and smiling at the precious sight, Said he, what now I hold I beg you'll bear, To her you serve, so worthy of your care; Present my compliments, and to her say, I'm her devoted servant from to-day.

THU female quickly to her mistress went; Our charming little dog to represent: The various pow'rs displayed, and wonders done; Yet scarcely had she on the knight begun, And mentioned what he wished her to unfold, But Argia could her rage no longer hold; A fellow! to presume, cried she, to speak Of me with freedom!—I am not so weak, To listen to such infamy, not I A pilgrim too!—no, you may well rely, E'en were he Atis, it would be the same, To whom I now my cruel conduct blame: Such things he never would to me propose; Not e'en a monarch would the like disclose; I'm 'bove temptation, presents would not do:— Not Plutus' stores, if offered to my view; A paltry pilgrim to presume indeed, To think that I would such a blackguard heed, Ambassadress my rank! and to admit A fellow, only for the gallows fit!

THIS pilgrim, cried the maid, has got the means Not only belles to get, but even queens; Or beauteous goddesses he could obtain:— He's worth a thousand Atis's 'tis plain. Bur, said the wife, my husband made me vow. What? cried the maid, you'd not bedeck his brow! A pretty promise truly:—can you think, You less from this, than from the first, should shrink? Who'll know the fact, or publish it around? Consider well, how many might be found, Who, were they marked with spot upon the nose, When things had taken place that we suppose, Would not their heads so very lofty place, I'm well assured, but feel their own disgrace. For such a thing, are we the worse a hair? No, no, good lady, who presumes to swear, He can discern the lips which have been pressed, By those that never have the fact confessed, Must be possessed of penetrating eyes, Which pierce the sable veil of dark disguise. This favour, whether you accord or not, 'Twill not a whit be less nor more a blot. For whom, I pray, LOVE'S treasures would you hoard? For one, who never will a treat afford, Or what is much the same, has not the pow'r? All he may want you'll give him in an hour, At his return; he's very weak and old, And, doubtless, ev'ry way is icy cold!

THE cunning girl such rhetorick displayed, That all she said, her mistress, having weighed, Began to doubt alone, and not deny The spaniel's art, and pilgrim's piercing eye: To her the master and his dog were led, To satisfy her mind while still in bed; For bright Aurora, from the wat'ry deep, Not more reluctantly arose from sleep.

OUR spark approached the dame with easy air, Which seemed the man of fashion to declare; His compliments were made with ev'ry grace, That minds most difficult could wish to trace.

THE fair was charmed, and with him quite content; You do not look, said she, like one who meant Saint James of Compostella soon to see, Though, doubtless, oft to saints you bend the knee.

TO entertain the smiling beauteous dame, The dog, by various tricks, confirmed his flame, To please the maid and mistress he'd in view: Too much for these of course he could not do; Though, for the husband, he would never move, The little fav'rite sought again to prove His wond'rous worth, and scattered o'er the ground, With sudden shake, among the servants round, Nice pearls, which they on strings arranged with care; And these the pilgrim offered to the fair: Gallantly fastened them around her arms, Admired their whiteness and extolled her charms: So well he managed, 'twas at length agreed, In what his heart desired he should succeed; The dog was bought: the belle bestowed a kiss, As earnest of the promised future bliss.

THE night arrived, when Atis fondly pressed, Within his arms, the lady thus caressed; Himself he suddenly became again, On which she scarcely could her joy contain:— Th' ambassador she more respect should show, Than favours on a pilgrim to bestow.

THE fair and spark so much admired the night; That others followed equal in delight; Each felt the same, for where's the perfect shade; That can conceal when joys like these pervade? Expression strongly marks the youthful face, And all that are not blind the truth can trace. Some months had passed, when Anselm was dismissed; Of gifts and pardons, long appeared his list; A load of honours from the Pope he got:— The CHURCH will these most lib'rally allot.

FROM his vicegerent quickly he received A good account, and friends his fears relieved; The servants never dropt a single word Of what had passed, but all to please concurred.

THE judge, both maid and servants, questioned much; But not a hint he got, their care was such. Yet, as it often happens 'mong the FAIR, The devil entered on a sudden there; Such quarrels 'tween the maid and mistress rose, The former vowed she would the tale disclose. Revenge induced her ev'ry thing to tell, Though she were implicated with the belle.

SO great the husband's rage, no words can speak: His fury somewhere he of course would wreak; But, since to paint it clearly would be vain— You'll by the sequel judge his poignant pain.

A SERVANT Anselm ordered to convey His wife a note, who was, without delay, To come to town her honoured spouse to see; Extremely ill (for such he feigned to be.) As yet the lady in the country stayed; Her husband to and fro' his visits paid.

SAID he, remember, when upon the road, Conducting Argia from her lone abode, You must contrive her men to get away, And with her none but you presume to stay.— A jade! she horns has planted on my brow: Her death shall be the consequence I vow.

WITH force a poinard in her bosom thrust; Watch well th' occasion:—die, I say, she must, The deed performed, escape; here's for you aid; The money take:—pursuit you can evade; As I request, proceed; then trust to me:— You naught shall want wherever you may be.

TO seek fair Argia instantly he went; She, by her dog, was warned of his intent. How these can warn? if asked, I shall reply, They grumble, bark, complain, or fawn, or sigh; Pull petticoat or gown, and snarl at all, Who happen in their way just then to fall; But few so dull as not to comprehend; Howe'er, this fav'rite whispered to his friend, The dangers that awaited her around; But go, said he, protection you have found; Confide in me:—I'll ev'ry ill prevent, For which the rascal hither has been sent. As on they moved, a wood was in the way, Where robbers often waited for their prey; The villain whom the husband had employed, Sent forward those whose company annoyed, And would prevent his execrable plan; The last of horrid crimes.—disgrace to man! No sooner had the wretch his orders told, But Argia vanished—none could her behold; The beauteous belle was quickly lost to view: A cloud, the fairy Manto o'er her threw.

THIS circumstance astonished much the wretch, Who ran to give our doating spouse a sketch Of what had passed so strange upon the way; Old Anselm thither went without delay, When, marvellous to think! with great surprise, He saw a palace of extensive size, Erected where, an hour or two before, A hovel was not seen, nor e'en a door.

THE husband stood aghast!—admired the place, Not built for man, e'en gods 'twould not disgrace. The rooms were gilt; the decorations fine; The gardens and the pleasure-grounds divine; Such rich magnificence was never seen; Superb the whole, a charming blessed demesne. The entrance ev'ry way was open found; But not a person could be viewed around, Except a negro, hideous to behold, Who much resembled AEsop, famed of old.

OUR judge the negro for a porter took, Who was the house to clean and overlook; And taking him for such, the black addressed, With full belief the title was the best, And that he greatly honoured him, 'twas plain (Of ev'ry colour men are proud and vain:) Said he, my friend, what god this palace owns? Too much it seems for those of earthly thrones; No king, of consequence enough could be; The palace, cried the black, belongs to me.

THE judge was instantly upon his knees, The negro's pardon asked, and sought to please; I trust, said he, my lord, you'll overlook The fault I made: my ignorance mistook. The universe has not so nice a spot; The world so beautiful a palace got!

DOST wish me, said the black, the house to give, For thee and thine therein at ease to live? On one condition thou shalt have the place For thee I seriously intend the grace, If thou 'lt on me a day or two attend, As page of honour:—dost thou comprehend? The custom know'st thou—better I'll expound; A cup-bearer with Jupiter is found, Thou'st heard no doubt.

ANSELM

What, Ganymede?

NEGRO

The same; And I'm that Jupiter of mighty fame; The chief supreme who rules above the skies; Be thou the lad with fascinating eyes, Though not so handsome, nor in truth so young.

ANSELM

You jest, my lord; to youth I don't belong; 'Tis very clear;—my judge's dress—my age!

NEGRO

I jest? thou dream'st.

ANSELM

My lord?

NEGRO

You won't engage? Just as you will:—'tis all the same you'll find.

ANSELM

My lord! . . . The learned judge himself resigned, The black's mysterious wishes to obey;— Alas! curst presents, how they always weigh!

A PAGE the magistrate was quickly seen, In dress, in look, in age, in air, in mien; His hat became a cap; his beard alone Remained unchanged; the rest had wholly flown.

THUS metamorphosed to a pretty boy, The judge proceeded in the black's employ. Within a corner hidden, Argia lay, And heard what Anselm had been led to say. The Moor howe'er was Manto, most renowned, Transformed, as oft the fairy we have found; She built the charming palace by her art,— Now youthful features would to age impart.

AT length, as Anselm through a passage came, He suddenly beheld his beauteous dame. What! learned Anselm do I see, said she, In this disguise?—It surely cannot be; My eyes deceive me:—Anselm, grave and wise; Give such a lesson? I am all surprise.

'TIS doubtless he: oh, oh! our bald-pate sire; Ambassador and judge, we must admire, To see your honour thus in masquerade:— At your age, truly, suffer to be made A—modesty denies my tongue its powr's What!—you condemn to death for freaks like ours? You, whom I've found *** you understand—for shame Your crimes are such as all must blush to name. Though I may have a negro for gallant, And erred when Atis for me seemed to pant, His merit and the black's superior rank, Must lessen, if not quite excuse my prank. Howe'er, old boy, you presently shall see, If any belle solicited should be, To grant indulgencies, with presents sweet, She will not straight capitulation beat; At least, if they be such as I have viewed:— Moor, change to dog; immediately ensued The metamorphose that the fair required, The black'moor was again a dog admired. Dance, fav'rite; instantly he skipped and played; And to the judge his pretty paw conveyed. Spaniel, scatter gold; presently there fell Large sums of money, as the sound could tell. Such strong temptation who can e'er evade? The dog a present to your wife was made. Then show me, if you can, upon the earth, A queen, a princess, of the highest birth, Who would not virtue presently concede, If such excuses for it she could plead; Particularly if the giver proved A handsome lad that elegantly moved.

I, TRULY, for the spaniel was exchanged; What you'd too much of, freely I arranged, To grant away, this jewel to obtain My value 's nothing great, you think, 'tis plain; And, surely, you'd have thought me very wrong, When such a prize I met, to haggle long. 'Twas he this palace raised; but I have done; Remember, since you've yet a course to run, Take care again how you command my death; In spite of your designs I draw my breath. Though none but Atis with me had success, I now desire, he may Lucretia bless, And wish her to surrender up her charms, (Just like myself) to his extended arms. If you approve, our peace at once is made: If not—while I've this dog I'm not afraid, But you defy: I dread not swords nor bowl; The little dog can warn me of the whole; The jealous he confounds; be that no more; Such folly hence determine to give o'er. If you, to put restraints on women choose, You'll sooner far their fond affections lose.

THE whole our judge conceded;—could he less? The secret of his recent change of dress Was promised to be kept: and that unknown, E'en cuckoldom again might there have flown.

OUR couple mutual compensation made, Then bade adieu to hill, and dale, and glade.

SOME critick asks the handsome palace' fate; I answer:—that, my friend, I shan't relate; It disappeared, no matter how nor when. Why put such questions?—strict is not my pen. The little dog, pray what of that became? To serve the lover was his constant aim.

AND how was that?—You're troublesome my friend: The dog perhaps would more assistance lend; On new intrigues his master might be bent; With single conquest who was e'er content?

THE fav'rite spaniel oft was missing found; But when the little rogue had gone his round, He'd then return, as if from work relieved, To her who first his services received. His fondness into fervent friendship grew; As such gay Atis visited anew; He often came, but Argia was sincere, And firmly to her vow would now adhere: Old Anselm too, had sworn, by heav'n above; No more to be suspicious of his love; And, if he ever page became again, To suffer punishment's severest pain.



THE EEL PIE

HOWEVER exquisite we BEAUTY find, It satiates sense, and palls upon the mind: Brown bread as well as white must be for me; My motto ever is—VARIETY.

THAT brisk brunette, with languid, sleepy eye, Delights my fancy; Can you tell me why? The reason 's plain enough:—she 's something new. The other mistress, long within my view, Though lily fair, with seraph features blessed, No more emotion raises in my breast; Her heart assents, while mine reluctant proves; Whence this diversity that in us moves? From hence it rises, to be plain and free, My motto ever is—VARIETY.

THE same in other words, I've often said; 'Tis right, at times, disguise with care to spread. The maxim's good, and with it I agree: My motto ever is—VARIETY.

A CERTAIN spouse the same devise had got, Whose wife by all was thought a handsome lot. His love, howe'er, was over very soon; It lasted only through the honeymoon; Possession had his passion quite destroyed; In Hymen's bands too oft the lover 's cloyed.

ONE, 'mong his valets, had a pretty wife; The master was himself quite full of life, And soon the charmer to his wishes drew, With which the husband discontented grew, And having caught them in the very fact, He rang his mate the changes for the act; Sad names he called her, howsoever just, A silly blockhead! thus to raise a dust, For what, in ev'ry town 's so common found; May we worse fortune never meet around!

HE made the paramour a grave harangue Don't others give, said he, the poignant pang; But ev'ry one allow to keep his own, As God and reason oft to man have shown, And recommended fully to observe; You from it surely have not cause to swerve; You cannot plead that you for beauty pine You've one at home who far surpasses mine; No longer give yourself such trouble, pray: You, to my help-mate, too much honour pay; Such marked attentions she can ne'er require Let each of us, alone his own admire. To others' WELLs you never ought to go, While your's with sweets is found to overflow; I willingly appeal to connoisseurs; If heav'n had blessed me with such bliss as your's, That when I please, your lady I could take, I would not for a queen such charms forsake. But since we can't prevent what now is known, I wish, good sir, contented with your own, (And 'tis, I hope, without offence I speak,) You'll favours from my wife no longer seek.

THE master, neither no nor yes replied, But orders gave, his man they should provide; For dinner ev'ry day, what pleased his taste, A pie of eels, which near him should be placed.

HIS appetite at first was wond'rous great; Again, the second time, as much he ate; But when the third appeared, he felt disgust, And not another morsel down could thrust. The valet fain would try a diff'rent dish; 'Twas not allowed;—you've got, said they, your wish; 'Tis pie alone; you like it best you know, And no objection you must dare to show.

I'M surfeited, cried he, 'tis far too much: Pie ev'ry day! and nothing else to touch! Not e'en a roasted eel, or stewed, or fried! Dry bread I'd rather you'd for me provide. Of your's allow me some at any rate, Pies, (devil take them!) thoroughly I hate; They'll follow me to Paradise I fear, Or further yet;—Heav'n keep me from such cheer!

THEIR noisy mirth the master thither drew, Who much desired the frolick to pursue; My friend, said he, I greatly feel surprise, That you so soon are weary grown of pies; Have I not heard you frequently declare, Eel-pie 's of all, the most delicious fare? Quite fickle, certainly, must be your taste; Can any thing in me so strange be traced? When I exchange a food which you admire; You blame and say, I never ought to tire; You do the very same; in truth, my friend, No mark of folly 'tis, you may depend, In lord or squire, or citizen or clown, To change the bread that's white for bit of brown: With more experience, you'll with me agree,— My motto ever is—VARIETY.

WHEN thus the master had himself expressed, The valet presently was less distressed; Some arguments, howe'er, at first he used; For, after all—are fully we excused, When we our pleasure solely have in view; Without regarding what's to others due? I relish change; well, take it; but 'tis best, To gain the belles with love of gold possessed; And that appears to me the proper plan; In truth, our lover very soon began To practise this advice;—his voice and way Could angel-sweetness instantly convey.