there was published, under his name, a comedy called The Distressed Wife, the second edition of which was printed in 1550: and in 1754 there appeared a humorous piece inscribed to him, with the title of The Rehearsal at Goatham.
Or manners gentle, of affections mild;
In wit a man, simplicity a child :
With native humour temp'ring virtuous rage;
Form'd to delight, at once, and lash the age:
Above temptation in a low estate,
And uncorrupted ev'n amongst the great:
A safe companion, and an easy friend;
Unblam'd thro' life, lamented in thy end :-
These are thy honours! Not that here thy bust
Is mix'd with heroes, or with kings thy dust;
But that the worthy and the good shall say,
Striking their pensive bosoms, ---Here lies GAY.
Then follows this farther Inscription:
Here lie the ashes of Mr. JOHN GAY,
The warmest friend,
The most benevolent man:
Who maintained
Independency
In low circumstances of fortune;
Integrity
In the midst of a corrupt age;
And that equal serenity of mind
Which conscious goodness alone can give,.
Thro' the whole course of his life.
Favourite of the Muses,
He was led by them to every elegant art;
Refin'd in taste,
And fraught with graces all his own:
In various kinds of poetry
Superior to many,
Inferior to none.
His Works continue to inspire
What his example taught,
Contempt of folly, however adorned; Detestation of vice, however dignified;
Reverence of virtue, however disgraced.
You, who the sweets of rural life have known,
Despise th' ungrateful hurry of the Town;
In Windsor groves your easy hours employ,
And undisturb'd yourself and Muse enjoy:
Thames listens to thy strains, and silent flows,
And no rude wind thro' rustling osiers blows,
While all his wond'ring Nymphs around thee throng,
To hear the Syrens warble in thy song.
But I, who ne'er was bless'd by Fortune's hand,
Nor brighten'd ploughshares in paternal land;
Long in the noisy Town have been immur'd;
Respir'd its smoke, and all its cares endur'd;
Where news and politics divide mankind,
And schemes of state involve th' uneasy mind;
Faction embroils the world, and ev'ry tongue
Is mov'd by Hatt'ry, or with scandal hung:
Friendship, for sylvan shades, the palace flies,
Where all must yield to int'rest's dearer ties;
Each rival Machiavel with envy burns,
And honesty forsakes them all by turns;
While calumny upon each party's thrown,
Which both promote, and both alike disown.
Fatigu'd at last, a calm retreat I chose,
And sooth'd my harass'd mind with sweet repose:
Where fields, and shades, and the refreshing clime,
Inspire the sylvan song, and prompt my rhyme.
My Muse shall rove thro' flow'ry meads and plains,
And deck with Rural Sports her native strains;
And the same road ambitiously pursue,
Frequented by the Mantuan swain and you.
'Tis not that Rural Sports alone invite,
But all the grateful country breathes delight;
Here blooming Health exerts her gentlé reign,
And strings the sinews of th' industrious swain.
Soon as the morning lark salutes the day,
Through dewy fields I take my frequent way,
Where I behold the farmer's early care
In the revolving labours of the year.
When the fresh Spring in all her state is crown'd, And high luxuriant grass o'erspreads the ground, 40 The lab'rer with the bending scythe is seen
Shaving the surface of the waving green;
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