BY THE SAME.

When now, mature in cla.s.sic knowledge, The joyful youth is sent to college, His father comes, an humble suitor, With bows and speeches to his tutor, "Sir, give me leave to recommend him, "I'm sure you cannot but befriend him; "I'll warrant that his good behav'our "Shall justify your future favour; "And for his parts, to tell the truth, "My son's a very forward youth; "He's young indeed, but has a spirit, "And wants but means, to shew his merit; "Has _Horace_ all by heart,--you'd wonder, "And mouths out _Homer_'s greek like thunder.

"If you'd but venture to admit him, "A scholarship would nicely fit him; "That he succeeds 'tis ten to one, "Your vote and interest, Sir,--'tis done."

Our candidate at length gets in, A hopeful scholar of Coll. Trin.

A scholarship not half maintains, And college-rules are heavy chains; So scorning the late wish'd-for prize, For a fat fellowship he sighs.

When, nine full tedious winters past, His utmost wish is crown'd at last; That utmost wish no sooner got, Again he quarrels with his lot.-- "These fellowships are pretty things, "We live indeed like petty kings; "But who can bear to spend his whole age "Amid the dullness of a college; "Debarr'd the common joys of life, "And what is worse than all--a wife!

"Would some snug benefice but fall, "Ye feasts, and gaudies, farewell all!

"To offices I'd bid adieu "Of Dean, Vice-Praes,--nay Bursar too; "Come t.i.thes, come glebe, come fields so pleasant, "Come sports, come partridge, hare and pheasant."

Well--after waiting many a year, A living falls,--two hundred clear.

With breast elite beyond expression, He hurries down to take possession; With rapture views the sweet retreat,-- "What a convenient house! how neat!

"The garden how compleatly plann'd!

"And is all this at my command!

"For fuel here's good store of wood,-- "Pray G.o.d, the cellars be but good!

Continuing this fantastic farce on, He now commences country parson; To make his character entire, He weds a----cousin of the 'squire; Not over-weighty in the purse; But many doctors have done worse.

Content at first,--he taps his barrel, Exhorts his neighbours not to quarrel; Finds his church-wardens have discerning Both in good liquor and good learning; With tythes his barns replete he sees, And chuckles o'er his surplice-fees; Studies to find out latent dues, Smokes with the 'squire,--and clips his yews; Of Oxford pranks, facetious tells, And, but on sundays, hears no bells.

But ah! too soon his thoughtless breast By cares domestic is opprest; Each day some scene of woe commences By new and unforeseen expences; And soon the butcher's bill, and brewing, Threaten inevitable ruin; For children more expences yet, And d.i.c.key now for school is fit.

"Why did I sell my college life (He cries) "for benefice and wife!

"Oh could the days once more but come, "When calm I smoak'd in common room, "And din'd with breast untroubled, under "The picture of our pious founder; "When, for amus.e.m.e.nt, my tyrannic "Sway could put freshmen in a pannic; "When impositions were supplied "To light my pipe--or sooth my pride!

"No cares of family oppress'd me, "Nor wife by day--nor night distress'd me.

"Each day receiv'd successive pleasure, "Or spent in reading, or in leisure; "And every night I went to bed "Without a christ'ning in my head."

O trifling head, and fickle heart!-- Chagrin'd at whatsoe'er thou art!

A dupe to follies yet untry'd, And sick of pleasure's scarce enjoy'd; Each prize obtain'd, thy rapture ceases, And in the search alone it pleases.

ODE[14]

TO

ARTHUR ONSLOW, ESQ.

I.

This goodly frame what virtue so approves, And testifies the pure etherial spirit As mild Benevolence?

She with her sister Mercy still awaits Beside th' eternal throne of Jove, And measures forth with unwithdrawing hand The blessings of the various year, Sunshine or show'r, and chides the madding tempest.

II.

With her the heaven-bred nymph meek Charity, Shall fashion ONSLOW forth in fairest portrait; And with recording care Weave the fresh wreath that flow'ring virtue claims.

But oh, what muse shall join the band?

He long has sojourn'd in the sacred haunts, And knows each whisp'ring grot and glade Trod by Apollo, and the light-foot Graces.

III.

How then shall awkward grat.i.tude And the presumption of untutor'd duty Attune my numbers all too rude?

Little he recks the meed of such a song; Yet will I stretch aloof, And when I tell of Courtesy, Of well-attemper'd Zeal, Of awful Prudence soothing fell Contention, Where shall the lineaments agree But in thee, ONSLOW? You, your wonted leave Indulge me, nor misdeem a Soldier's bold emprize;

IV.

Who in the dissonance of barb'rous war, Long train'd, revisits oft the sacred treasures Of antique memory; Or where sage Pindar reins his fiery car, Through the vast vault of heaven secure, Or what the Attic muse that Homer fill'd, Her other son, thy Milton taught, Or range the flow'ry fields of gentle Spenser.

V.

And ever as I go, allurements vain Cherish a feeble fire, and feed my idle Fancy: O cou'd I once Charm to their melody my shrilling reeds!

To HENRYS and to EDWARDS old, Dread names! I'd meditate the faithful song; Or tell what time BRITANNIA, Whilom the fairest daughter of old Ocean,

VI.

In loathly disarray, dull eyes, And faded cheek, wept o'er her abject sons: Till WILLIAM, great deliverer, Led on the comely train, gay Liberty, Religion, matron staid, With all her kindred G.o.ddesses; Justice with steady brow, Trim Plenty, laureat Peace, and green-hair'd Commerce, In flowing vest of thousand hues.

Fain would I shadow out old Bourbon's pile Tott'ring with doubtful weight, and threat'ning c.u.mbrous fall;

VII.

Or trace our navy, where in tow'ring pride O'er the wide-swelling waste it rolls avengeful.

As when collected clouds Forth from the gloomy south in deep array, Athwart the dark'ning landscape throng, Fraught with loud storms, and thunder's dreadful peal, At which the murd'rer stands aghast, And wasting Riot ill dissembles terror.

VIII.

How headlong Rhone and Ebro erst distain'd With moorish carnage, quakes thro' all her branches!

Soon shall I greet the morn, When, Europe sav'd, BRITAIN and GEORGE'S name Shall sound o'er Flandria's level field, Familiar in domestic meriment; Or by the jolly mariner Be carol'd loud adown the echoing Danube.

IX.

The just memorial of fair deeds Still flourishes, and like th' untainted soul Blossoms in freshest age, above The weary flesh, and envy's rankling wound.

Such after years mature In full account shall be thy meed.

O! may your rising hope Well principled in ev'ry virtue bloom!

Till a fresh-springing flock implore With infant hands a grandsire's pow'rful pray'r, Or round your honour'd couch their prattling sports persue.

FOOTNOTE:

[14] This elegant Poem was written by a Gentleman well known in the Learned World, as a token of grat.i.tude for favours conferred on his father, during the last war, whose character he has therein affirmed.

JOB, CHAPTER x.x.xIX.