Cursed may he be (as if he were not so)!
Nay doubly cursed be such a breast of steel,
Which never melted at another's woe,
Nor tenderness of bowels knew to feel.
His heart is black as hell, in flowing store
Who hears the needy crying at his door,
Who hears them cry, ne recks*; but suffers them
But bless'd, O more than doubly bless'd be he!
Let Honour crown him and eternal Rest,
Whose bosom, the sweet fount of Charity,
Flows out to noursle + Innocence distress'd.
His ear is open to the widow's cries,
His hand the orphan's cheek of sorrow dries; Like Mercy's self he looks on Want with Pity's eyes.
In this bless'd Season, pregnant with delight,
Ne may the boding owl with screeches wound
The solemn silence of the quiet night,
Ne croaking raven with unhallow'd sound,
Ne damned ghost affray § with deadly yell
The waking lover, raised by mighty spell,
To pale the stars, till Hesper shine it back to hell.
Ne witches rifle gibbets, by the moon
(With horror winking, trembling all with fear),
Of many a clinking chain, and canker'd bone:
Nor' imp in visionary shape appear,
To blast the thriving verdure of the plain;
Ne let hobgoblin, ne the ponk, profane
[brain. With shadowy glare the light, and mad the bursting
Yet fairy elves (so ancient custom's* will)
The green-gown'd fairy elves, by starry sheen †,
May gambol or in valley or on hill,
And leave their footsteps on the circled green.
Full lightly trip it, dapper Mab, around;
Full featly, Oberon, thou, o'er grass turf bound: Mab brushes off no dewdrops, Oberon prints no ground.
Ne bloody rumours violate the ear,
Of cities sack'd and kingdoms desolate,
With plague or sword, with pestilence or war;
Ne rueful murmur stain thy era date;
Ne shameless calumny, for fell despite,
The foulest fiend that e'er blasphemed the light,
At lovely lady rail, nor grin at courteous knight.
Ne wailing in our streets nor fields be heard,
Ne voice of misery assault the heart;
Ne fatherless from table be debarr'd;
Ne piteous tear from eye of sorrow start;
But, plenty, pour thyself into the bowl
Of bounty-head; may never want control [soul.
That good good honest man who feeds the famish'd
Now let the trumpet's martial thunders sleep;
The viol wake alone and tender flute:
The Phrygian lyre with sprightly fingers sweep,
And, Erato, dissolve the Lydian lute.
* The Lemuria, or rites sacred to the Lemures, were celebrated by the Romans in May. See Ovid. Fast. 1, 5, &c. They imagined the Lemures (in English, Fairies) to be like ghosts of deceased persons: but our traditional accounts are very different in respect to the nature of fairies. Shakspeare's Midsummer Night's Dream, Drayton's Fairy Tale, and a celebrated 'Old Ballad,' are masterpieces in their kind.
Yet Clio frets and burns with honest pain,
To rouse and animate the martial strain, [plain. While British banners flame o'er many a purpled
The trumpet sleeps, but soon for thee shall wake,
Illustrious chief! to sound thy mighty name
(Snatch'd from the malice of Lethean lake),
Triumphant swelling from the mouth of Fame.
Meanwhile, disdain not (so the virgins pray)
This rosy crown, with myrtle wove and bay
(Too humble crown I ween), the offering of May.
And while the virgins hail thee with their voice,
Heaping thy crowded way with greens and flowers,
And in the fondness of their heart rejoice
To soothe, with dance and song, thy gentler hours;
Indulge the season, and with sweet repair
Embay thy limbs, the vernal beauties share :
Then blaze in arms again, renew'd for future war.
Britannia's happy isle derives from May
The choicest blessings liberty bestows:
When royal Charles (for ever hail the day!)
In mercy triumph'd o'er ignoble foes.
Restored with him, the arts the drooping head
Gaily again uprear'd; the Muses' shade [ray'd.
With fresher honours bloomed, in greener trim ar-
And thou, the goodliest blossom of our isles!
Great Frederick's and his Augusta's joy,
Thy native month approved with infant smiles,
Sweet as the smiling May, imperial boy!
Britannia hopes thee for her future lord,
Loved as thy parents, only not adored! [tored.
Whene'er a George is born, Charles is again res-
O, may his father's pant for finer fame,
And boundless bounty head to humankind;
His grandsires' glory, and his uncle's name,
Renown'd in war! inflame his ardent mind:
So arts shall flourish 'neath his equal sway,
So arms the hostile nations wide affray;
The laurel Victory, Apollo wear the bay.
Through kind infusion of celestial power,
The dullard earth May quickeneth with delight:
Full suddenly the seeds of joy recure
Elastic spring, and force within empight+.
If senseless elements invigorate prove
By genial May, and heavy matter move, [love?
Shall shepherdesses cease, shall shepherds fail to
Ye shepherdesses, in a goodly round,
Purpled with health, as in the greenwood shade,
Incontinent ye thump the echoing ground
And deftly lead the dance along the glade;
(0, may no showers your merry-makes affray!)
Hail at the opening, at the closing day,
All hail, ye bonnibels §, to your own season,
Nor ye absent yourselves, ye shepherd swains,
But lend to dance and song the liberal May,
And while in jocund ranks you beat the plains,
Your flocks shall nibble and your lambkins play,
Frisking in glee. To May your garlands bring,
And ever and anon her praises sing: [ring.
The woods shall echo May, with May the valleys
* Recover.
§ Pretty women.
VOL. III.
Your Maypole deck with flowery coronal;
Sprinkle the flowery coronal with wine;
And in the nimble-footed galliard, all,
Shepherds and shepherdesses, lively, join.
Hither from village sweet and hamlet fair,
From bordering cot and distant glen repair,
Let youth indulge its sport, to eld* bequeath its
Ye wanton Dryads and light-tripping Fawns,
Ye jolly Satyrs, full of lustyhead +,
And ye that haunt the hills, the brooks, the lawns;
O, come with rural chaplets gay dispread:
With heel so nimble wear the springing grass,
To shrilling bagpipe, or to tinkling brass;
Or foot it to the reed: Pan pipes himself apace.
In this soft season, when creation smiled,
A quivering splendour on the ocean hung,
And from the fruitful froth, his fairest child,
The queen of bliss and beauty, Venus sprung.
The dolphins gambol o'er the watery way,
Carol the Naiads, while the Tritons play,
And all the seagreen Sisters bless the holiday.
In honour of her natal month, the queen
Of bliss and beauty consecrates her hours,
Fresh as her cheek, and as her brow serene,
To buxom ladies, and their paramours.
Love tips with golden alchymy his dart;
With rapturous anguish, with a honey'd smart,
Eye languishes on eye, and heart dissolves on heart.
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