AN IMITATION OF SPENSER.

GOLD

OLDEN Apollo, that through heaven wide Scatter'st the rays of light, and truth his beams,

In lucent words my darkling voices dight,

And wash my earthly mind in thy clear streams, That wisdom may descend in fairy dreams, All while the jocund Hours in thy train

Scatter their fancies at thy poet's feet;

And, when thou yield'st to Night thy wide domain, Let rays of truth enlight his sleeping brain.

For brutish Pan in vain might thee assay

With tinkling sounds to dash thy nervous verse, Sound without sense; yet in his rude affray

(For Ignorance is folly's leasing nurse,

And love of Folly needs none other's curse) Midas the praise hath gained of lengthened ears, For which himself might deem him ne'er the

worse

To sit in council with his modern peers,

And judge of tinkling rhymes and elegances terse.

And thou, Mercurius, that with winged bow

Dost mount aloft into the yielding sky,

And through heaven's halls thy airy flight dost throw,

Entering with holy feet to where on high

Jove weighs the counsel of futurity;

Then laden with eternal fate, dost go

Down, like a fallen star, from Autumn sky,
And o'er the surface of the silent deep dost fly:

If thou arrivest at the sandy shore

Where nought but envious hissing adders dwell, Thy golden rod thrown on the dusty floor, Can charm to harmony with potent spell; Such is sweet Eloquence, that does dispel Envy and Hate that thirst for human gore; And cause in sweet society to dwell

Vile savage minds that lurk in lonely cell.

O Mercury, assist my labouring sense

That round the circle of the world would fly, As the winged eagle scorns the towery fence Of Alpine hills round his high aëry,

And searches through the corners of the sky, Sports in the clouds to hear the thunder's sound, And see the winged lightnings as they fly; Then, bosomed in an amber cloud, around Plumes his wide wings, and seeks Sol's palace high.

And thou, O warrior maid invincible,

Armed with the terrors of Almighty Jove,

Pallas, Minerva, maiden terrible,

Lov'st thou to walk the peaceful solemn grove, In solemn gloom of branches interwove?

Or bear'st thy ægis o'er the burning field
Where like the sea the waves of battle move?
Or have thy soft piteous eyes beheld

The weary wanderer through the desert rove? Or does the afflicted man thy heavenly bosom move?

BLIND-MAN'S BUFF.

WHE

HEN silver snow decks Susan's clothes,
And jewels hang at th' shepherd's nose,

The blushing bank is all my care,

With hearth so red, and walls so fair.
"Heap the sea-coal, come, heap it higher;
The oaken log lay on the fire.”

The well-washed stools, a circling row,
With lad and lass, how fair the show!
The merry can of nut-brown ale,
The laughing jest, the love-sick tale-
Till, tired of chat, the game begins.
The lasses prick the lads with pins.
Roger from Dolly twitched the stool;
She, falling, kissed the ground, poor fool!
She blushed so red, with sidelong glance
At hobnail Dick, who grieved the chance.
But now for Blind-man's Buff they call ;
Of each incumbrance clear the hall.

Jenny her silken kerchief folds,

And blear-eyed Will the black lot holds.

Now laughing stops, with "Silence, hush!"
And Peggy Pout gives Sam a push.
The blind-man's arms, extended wide,
Sam slips between :-"Oh, woe betide
Thee, clumsy Will!”—but tittering Kate
Is penned up in the corner strait !
And now Will's eyes beheld the play;
He thought his face was t'other way.
"Now, Kitty, now! what chance hast thou?
Roger so near thee trips, I vow!"
She catches him-then Roger ties
His own head up-but not his eyes;
For through the slender cloth he sees,
And runs at Sam, who slips with ease
His clumsy hold; and, dodging round,
Sukey is tumbled on the ground.

"See what it is to play unfair!

Where cheating is, there's mischief there." But Roger still pursues the chase, "He sees! he sees!" cries softly Grace; "O Roger, thou, unskilled in art,

Must, surer bound, go through thy part!"