And young and old come forth to play
On a fun-fhine holy-day,
Till the live-long day-light fail,
Then to the spicy nut-brown ale,
With stories told of many a feat,
How fairy Mab the junkets eat;
She was pinch’d, and pull’d, she said,
And by the Friar's lanthorn led;
Tells how the drudging goblin sweat,
To earn his cream-bowl duly set,
When in one night, ere glimpse of morn,
His shadowy fail hath thresh'd the corn
That ten day-labourers could not end,
Then lies him down the lubbar fiend,
And stretch'd out all the chimny's length,
Basks at the fire his hairy strength;
And crop-full out of doors he Alings,
Ere the first cock his nfattin fings.
Thus done the tales, to bed they creep,
By whispering winds foon lull’d alleep.
Towred cities please us then,
And the busy humm of men,
Where throngs of knights and barons bold,
In weeds of peace high triumph hold,
With store of ladies, whose bright eyes
Rain influence, and judge the prize
Juvenesque ludunt, et senes promiscui,
Melius nitente sole propter ferias.
Jam quando vesperascit, omnes allicit
Auro liquenti Bacchus hordiaceus,
Phyllisque narrat fabulofa facinora,
Lamia ut paratas Mabba consumpsit dapes,
Se vapulasse, et esse preffam ab Incubo,
Fatuoque tritâ ab igne seductam viâ;
Ut et laborem subiit Idolon gravem,
Floremque lactis meritus eft ftipendium;
Unius (inquit) ante noctis exitum
Tot grana frugis fuste trivit veneficus,
Quot expedire rustici nequeunt decem,
Quo jam peracto plumbeum monstrum cubat,
Focumque totum latere longo metiens
Crinita membra fessus igne recreat;
Dein, priusquam gallus evocat diem,
Tandem satur phantasma sese proripit.
Sic absolutis fabulis ineunt toros,
Atque ad susurros dormiunt favonii,
Turrita deinde perplacebunt oppida,
Et gentis occupatæ mixta murniura,
Equitumque turba, nobilesque spendidi,
Qui pacis ipsâ vel triumphant in togâ,
Nurusque, quarum lumen impetus viris
Jaculatur acres, præmiumque destinat
Of wit or arms, while both contend
To win her grace whom all commend.
There let Hymen oft appear,
In saffron robe, with taper clear,
And pomp, and feast, and revelry,
With mask and antique pageantry,
Such sights as youthful poets dream
On summer eves by haunted stream.
Then to the well-trod stage anon,
If Johnson's learned sock be on,
Or sweetest Shakespear, Fancy's child,
Warb'e his native wood-notes wild,
And ever against eating cares
Lap me in soft Lydian airs,
Married to immortal verse,
Such as the meeting foul may pierce
In notes, with many a winding bout
Of linked sweetness long drawn out
With wanton heed, and giddy cunning,
The melting voice thro' mazes running;
Untwisting all the chains that tye
The hidden foul of harmony:
Marti aut Minervæ, quorum uterque nititur
Nymphæ probari, quæ probatur omnibus :
Hymenæus illic fæpe prætendat facem
Clarisfimam, croceumque velamen trahat,
Spectac’la, mimi, pompa, commiffatio,
Veterumque ritu nocte fint convivia,
Talesque visus, quos vident in fomniis
Juvenes poetæ, dum celebris rivuli
Securi ad oram vespere æstivo jacent.
Tunc ad theatra demigrem frequentia
Johnsone, fi tu, docte soccum proferas ;
Sive * Ille musæ filius fundat fonos,
Quam dulcè, quam felicitèr temerarios !
Curæque carmen semper antidotos modis
Mentem relaxet involutam Lydiis ;
Oh! fim perenni emancipatus carmini,
Quod tentet usque ad intimum cor emicans,
Auresque gratis detinens ambagibus
Pedibus ligatis suaviter nectat moras,
Dum liquida vox, labyrinthus ut, deflectitur
Dolo perita et negligenti industriâ,
Variàque cæcos arte nodos explicat,
Animam latentem qui coercent musices;
That Orpheus self may heave his head
From golden slumber on a bed
Of heap'd Elysian flow'rs, and hear
Such strains as would have won the ear
Of Pluto, to have quite set free
His half-regain’d Eurydice.
These delights, if thou canst give,
Mirth, with thee I mean to live.
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