XXV.

Life is a scene of conteck and distress,

Ne is it longer than a winter's day;

And shall we make our few enjoyments less?

Far from my cot, thou blatant-beast away.
No husband's noul will I with horns array,
Ne fhall my tongue its venom'd malice wreak
On tuneful bards, whom laurel crowns apay;
Ne will I 'gainft the comely matron speak,
Or draw one pearly drop down beauty's rofy cheek.
XXVI.

The Squire of Dames rode on with muchel tine,

And, as he caft afkaunce his greedy look, He faw empight beneath an auncient pine A hoary fhepherd leaning on his crook; His falling tears increas'd the fwelling brook: And he did figh as he would break his heart. "O thou deep-read in forrow's baleful book, "The Squire exclaim'd, areed thy burning smart;` "Our dolors grow more light when we the tale impart." XXVII.

To whom the fwain reply'd,

66

"O gentle youth,

Yon fruitful meads my num'rous herds poffefs'd,

My days roll'd on unknown to pain or ruth,

"And one fair daughter my old age ybless'd.

ป

6. Oh,

"Oh, had you feen her for the wake ydrefs'd "With kirtle ty'd with many a colour'd ftring,

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Thy tongue to all the world had then confefs'd "That she was sheener than the pheafant's wing,

"And, when she rais'd her voice, ne lark fo foot could

१

"In virtue's thews I bred the lovely maid, "And fhe right well the leffons did pursue; "Too wife fhe was to be by man betray'd; "But the curft blatant-beaft her form did view, "And round our plains did spread a tale untrue, "That Rofabella, fpurning marriage band, “ແ Had felt those pangs which virgin never knew, "And that Sir Topas my poor girl trepann'd; He, who in fable stole doth in our pulpit stand. XXIX.

"Nay, more, the hellish monfter has invented, "How a young fwain on Shannon's banks yborn "(Had not my care the deep-laid plot prevented) "Would from my arms my Rofabel have born. "Have I not caufe to weep from rifing morn

" "Till Phoebus welketh in the western main,

"To see my dearling's fame thus vildly torn? "Have I not cause to nourish endless pain?"

At this he deeply figh'd, and wept full fore again. XXX. "Curst

XXX.

"Curft be this blatant-beaft, reply'd the Squire, "That thus infefts your fea-begirted ifle;

"Shew me his face, that I may wreak mine ire

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Upon this imp of hell, this monster vile."

Away from hence not paffing fure a mile,

"Might I advise you, you had better wend," Return'd the fwain,

deep-read in magic-style

"There Merlin wons, fue him to be your friend;

"And left you miss your way, myself will you attend. XXXI.

Together now they seek the hermitage

Deep in the covert of a dufky glade,
Where in his dortour wons the hoary fage.

The moss-grown trees did förm a gloomy shade,
Their ruftling leaves a folemn mufic made,
And fairies nightly tripp'd the aweful green,
And if the tongue of fame have truth display'd,
Full many a spectre was at midnight seen,
Torn from his earthly grave, a horrid fight! I ween.
XXXII.

Ne rofe, ne vi'let glads the chearless bow'r,

Ne fringed pink from earth's green bofom grew. But hemlock dire, and every baleful flow'r Might here be found, and knots of mystic rue. VOL. IV.

L

Clofe

Clofe to the cell fprong up an auncient yew,
And store of imps were on its boughs ypight,
At his behefts they from its branches flew,
And, in a thousand various forms bedight,

Frisk'd to the moon's pale wain, and revell'd all the night.
XXXIII.

Around the cave a cluft'ring ivy fpread
In wide embrace his over-twining arms,
Within, the walls with characters bespread
Declar'd the pow'rful force of magic charms.
Here drugs were plac'd deftructive of all harms,
And books that deep futurity could fcan:
Here stood a spell that of his rage difarms
The mountain lyon 'till he yields to man;
With many

fecrets more, which fcarce repeat I can.
XXXIV.

The Squire of Dames deep enters in the cell:
What will not valiant heart for beauty dare?
His borrel fere here bids his friend farewell,

And home he wends renewing cark and care.
When, louting low with a becoming air,

The youth cry'd out,

O thrice renowned mage,

"Vouchsafe to cure me of my black difpair;

"For thou not only art grown wife through age,

"But art of mortal man by far the wifeft fage.'

I

99.

XXXV. Then

XXXV.

Then Merlin with a look benign reply'd,

(For he was bred with every courteous thew)'

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"I

I know to make fair Columbel your bride "The blatant-beaft you through the lond pursue,

"The fate of empires now demands my view,
"And for awhile denys my prefence here;
"Soon in this cell I'll thee again falew,

"What most thou lik'ft partake withouten fear,'

"Share all my cave affords, nor think I grudge my chear. XXXVI.

"Yet mark my counfel, open not that door, "Left thou repent thy follies when too late, "Ten thoufand pangs fhall make thy heart full fore, "For horror fcouls behind that heben gate, "And future ills fhall thy dear peace amate; "There stands a mirror, wrought by magic leer, "In which are read the dark decrees of fate, " And whom you wish to fee will streit appear, "Devoid of art's falfe mafk, to human eye-fight clear.

XXXVII.

"Ah how unlike the godlike man he seem'd "In this my glass the patriot I've defcry'd,

"By the vile rabblement a faint esteem'd? "He's oft a wretch compos'd of floth and pride: