Infancy, straining backward from the breast, 165
Tetchy and wayward, what he loveth best
Refusing in his fits, whilst all the while
The mother eyes the wrangler with a smile,
And the fond father sits on t' other side,
Laughs at his moods,and views his spleen with pride,
Shall murmur forth my name,
while at his hand 171
Nurse stands interpreter thro' Gothan's land.
Childhood, who, like an April morn, appears
Sunshine and rain, hopes clouded o'er with fears,
Pleas'd and displeas'd by starts, in passion warm,
In reason weak; who, wrought into a storm, 176
Like to the fretful billows of the deep,
Soon spends his rage, and cries himself asleep;
Who, with a fev'rish appetite oppress'd,
For trifles sighs, but hates them when possess'd,
His trembling lash suspended in the air,
Half-bent, and stroking back his long lank hair,
Shall to his mates look up with eager glee,
And let his top go down to prate of me.
Youth, who, fierce, fickle, insolent and vain,
Impatient urges on to Manhood's reign,
Impatient urges on, yet with a cast
Of dear regard looks back on Childhood past, In the mid chase, when the hot blood runs high, And the quick spirits mount into his eye;
When pleasure, which he deems his greatest wealth, Beats in his heart, and paints his cheeks with health Volume III.
When the chaf'd steed tugs proudly at the rein,
And ere he starts hath run o'er half the plain;
When, wing'd with fear, the stag flies full in view,
And in full cry the eager hounds pursue, 195
Shall shout my praise to hills which shout again,
And ev'n the huntsman stop to cry Amen.
Manhood, of form erect, who would not bow Tho' worlds should crack around him; on his brow Wisdom serene, to passion giving law, Bespeaking love, and yet commanding awe; Dignity into grace by mildness wrought, Courage attemper'd, and refin'd by thought; Virtue supreme enthron'd, within his breast The image of his Maker deep imprest; Lord of this earth, which trembles at his nod, With reason bless'd, and only less than God; Manhood, tho' weeping Beauty kneels for aid, Tho' Honour calls, in Danger's form array'd, 210 'Tho' cloth'd with sackcloth, Justice in the gates, By wicked elders chain'd, Redemption waits, Manhood shall steal an hour, a little hour, (Is 't not a little one?) to hail my pow'r.
Old Age, a second child, by Nature curst With more and greater evils than the first; Weak, sickly, full of pains, in ev'ry breath; Railing at life, and yet afraid of death; Putting things off, with sage and solemn air, From day to day, without one day to spare;
Without enjoyment covetous of pelf,
Tiresome to friends, and tiresome to himself;
His faculties impair'd, his temper sour'd,
His memory of recent things devour'd
Ev'n with the acting on his shatter'd brain,
Tho' the false registers of youth remain;
From morn to ev'ning babbling forth vain praise
Of those rare men who liv'd in those rare days,
When he, the hero of his tale, was young,
Dull repetitions falt'ring on his tongue;
Praising gray hairs, sure mark of Wisdom's sway,
Ev'n whilst he curses Time, which made him gray;
Scoffing at youth, ev'n whilst he would afford
All but his gold to have his youth restor❜d,
Shall for a moment, from himself set free,
Lean on his crutch, and pipe forth praise to me.
Rejoice, ye happy Gothamites! rejoice;
Lift up your voice on high, a mighty voice,
The voice of gladness ; and on ev'ry tongue,
In strains of gratitude, be praises hung,
The praises of so great and good a king;
Shall Churchill reign, and shall not Gotham sing?
Things without life shall in this chorus join,
And dumb to others praise be loud in mine.
The snow-drop, who, in habit white and plain,
Comes on the heraid of fair Flora`s train ;
The coxcomb crocus, flow'r of simple note,
Who by her side struts in a herald's coat;
The tulip, idly glaring to the view,
Who, tho' no clown, his birth from Holland drew,
Who, once full dress'd, fears from his place to stir,
The fop of flow'rs, the More of a parterre ;
The woodbine, who her elm in marriage meets,
And brings her dowry in surrounding sweets;
The lily, silver mistress of the vale,
The rose of Sharon, which perfumes the gale;
The jessamine, with which the queen of flow'rs
To charm her god adorns his fav'rite bow`rs,
Which brides, by the plain hand of Neatness drest,
Unenvy'd rival, wear upon their breast,
Sweet as the incense of the morn, and chaste
As the pure zone which circles Dian's waist;
All flow'rs of various names and various forms,
Which the sun into strength and beauty warms,
From the dwarf daisy, which like infants clings 265
And fears to leave the earth from whence it springs,
To the proud giant of the garden race,
Who, madly rushing to the sun's embrace,
O'ertops her fellows with aspiring aim,
Demands his wedded love, and bears nis name; 270
All, one and all, shall in this chorus join,
And dumb to others praise be loud in mine.
Rejoice, ye happy Gothamites! rejoice;
Lift up your voice on high, a mighty voice,
1 The voice of gladness; and on ev'ry tongue,
In strains of gratitude, be praises hung,
The praises of so great and good a king;
Shall Churchill reign, and shall not Gotham sing ?
Forming a gloom thro' which, to spleen-struck
Religion horror-stamp'd a passage finds, [minds,
The ivy crawling o'er the hallow'd cell 281
Where some old hermit 's wont his beads to tell
By day, by night; the myrtle ever green,
Beneath whose shade Love holds his rites unseen;
The willow, weeping o'er the fatal wave
Where many a lover finds a watry grave;
The cypress, sacred held when lovers mourn
Their true love snatch'd away; the laurel, worn
By poets in old time, but destin'd now
In grief to wither on a Whitehead's brow;
The fig, which, large as what in India grows,
Itself a grove, gave our first parents clothes ;
The vine, which, like a blushing new-made bride,
Clust'ring, empurples all the mountain's side;
The yew,which in the place of sculptur'd stone, 295
Marks out the resting-place of men unknown;
The hedge-row elm, the pine, of mountain race;
The fir, the Scotch fir, never out of place;
The cedar, whose top mates the highest cloud,
Whilst his old father Lebanon grows proud
Of such a child, and his vast body, laid
Out many a mile, enjoys the filial shade ;
The oak, when living monarch of the wood,
The English oak, which dead commands the flood:
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