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And stop and eat-for well you may
Said John-" It is my wedding day;
*Twas for your pleasure you came here,
Ah! luckless speech, and bootless boast,
And gallop'd off with all his might
Into the country, far away,
She pull'd out half a crown:
And thus unto the youth she said
That drove them to the Bell,
This shall be yours, when you bring back
My husband safe and well."
The youth did ride, and soon they met ;
By seizing fast the flowing rein;
Went postbay at his heels ;
The postboy's horse righ glad to miss
The lumb'ring of the wheels.
Six gentlemen upon the road,
Thus seeing Gilpin fly,
With postboy scamp'ring in the rear,
They rais'd the hue and cry.
Stop thief! stop thief! a highwayman (”
Not one of them was mute;
So they, and all that pass'd that way,
Nor stopp'd till where he had got up,
Now let us sing" Long live the king;
And Gilpin, long live he :
And when he next doth ride abroad,
May I be there to see!"
VII The Creation of the World.-MILTON.
MEANWHILE the Son
On his great expedition now appear'd,
On heavenly ground they stood, and from the shore
Far into Chacs, and the world unborn;
This universe, and all created things.
Thus God the heaven created, thus the earth, Matter unform'd and void! Darkness profound Cover'd th' abyss; but on the watery calm His brooding wings the spirit of God outspread, And vital virtue infus'd, and vital warmth Throughout the fluid mass; but downward purg'd The black, tartareous, cold, infernal dregs, Adverse to life; then founded, then conglob'd Like things to like, the rest to several place Disparted; and between, spun out the air; And earth self-balanced, on her centre hung.
VIII-Overthrow of the Rebel Angels.—I§. So spake the Son, and into terror chang'd His countenance, too severe to be beheld, And full of wrath bent on his enemies. At once the four spread out their starry wings, With dreadful shape contiguous, and the orbs Of his fierce chariot roll'd, as with the sound Of torrent floods, or of a numerous host. He on his impious foes, right onward drove, Gloomy as night. Under his burning wheels The steadfast empirean shook throughout, All but the throne itself of God. Full soon Among them he arriv'd; in his right hand Grasping ten thousand thunders, which he sent Before him, such as in their souls infix'd Plagues. They astonish'd, all resistance lost, All courage; down their idle weapons drop'd: O'er shields, and helms, and helmed heads he rode, Of thrones and mighty seraphim prostrate, That wish'd the mountains, now, might be again Thrown on them as a shelter from his ire. Nor less on either side, tempestuous fell His arrows, from the fourfold visag'd four Distinct with eyes, and from the living wheels Distinct alike with multitude of eyes: One spirit in them rul'd; and every eye Glar'd lightning, and shot forth pernicious fire Among th' accurs'd, that wither'd all their strength, And, of their wonted vigor, left them drain'd, Exhausted, spiritless, afflicted, fall'n.
Yet half his strength he put nat forth; but check'd His thunder in mid volley; for he meant
Not to destroy but to root them out of heaven,
The overthrown hę rais'd; and as a herd
Of goats or timorous flock together throng'd,
And chrystal wall of heaven; Which opening wide
IX-Alexander's Feast; or the Power of Music-An Ode for St. Cicilia's Day.-DRYDEN.
'TWAS at the royal feast, for Persia won
By Philip's warlike son.
Aloft in awful state,
The godlike hero sat
On his imperial throne.
His valient peers were plac'd around,
The lovely Thais by his side,
Sat like a blooming eastern bride,
None but the brave,
None but the brave, deserve the fair.
Amid the tuneful choir,
With flying fingers touch the lyre;
The song began from Jove,
When he to fair Olympia press'd,
And stamp'd an image of himself, a sovereign of the world. The list'ning crowd admire the lofty sound
A present deity, they shout around;
A present deity; the vaulted roofs rebound.
And seems to shake the spheres.
The praise of Bachus, then, the sweet musician sung;
The jolly god in triumph comes!
Flush'd with a purple grace,
He shows his honest face;
Now give the hautboys breath-he comes! he comes!
Drinking joys did first ordain:
Bachus blessings are a treasure ;
Drinking is the soldier's pleasure:
Rich the treasure ;
Sweet the pleasure ;
Sweet is pleasure, after pain.
Sooth'd with the sound, the king grew vain;
Fought all his battles o'er again;
And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he slew the
The master saw the madness rise;
His glowing cheeks, his ardent eyes;
And, while he heaven and earth defy'd,
S.ft pity to infuse:
He sung Darius, great and good,
By those his former bounty fed,
On the bare earth expos'd he lies,
With not a friend to close his eyes.
With downcast look the joyless victor sat,
Revolving, in his alter'd soul,
The various turns of fate below;
The mighty master smil❜d to see
That love was in the next degree;
"Twas but a kindred sound to move;
For pity melts the mind to love.
Softly sweet, in Lydian measures,
Never ending, still beginning,
Take the good the gods provide thee,