Merely to drive the time away he ficken'd,
Fainted, and died, nor would with ale be quicken'd;
Nay, quoth he, on his fooning bed out-ftretch'd,
If I mayn't carry, fure I'll ne'er be fetch'd,
But vow, though the crofs doctor's all food hearers,
For one carrier put down to make fix bearers.
Eafe was his chief difeafe, and to judge right,
He dy'd for heaviness that his cart went light:
His leifure told him that his time was come,
And lack of load made his life burdenfome,
That even to his last breath (there be that say't)
As he were prefs'd to death, he cry'd more weight;
But had his doings lafted as they were,
He had been an immortal carrier.
Obedient to the moon he fpent his date,
In courfe reciprocal, and had his fate
Link'd to the mutual flowing of the feas,
Yet (ftrange to think) his wain was his increafe:
His letters are deliver'd all and gone,
Only remains this fuperfcription.
ENCE loathed Melancholy,
Of Cerberus and blackeft Midnight born,
In Stygian cave forlorn
'Mong'ft horrid fhapes, and fhrieks, and fights unholy,
This and the following poem are exquifitely beautiful in themfelves, but appear much more beautiful when they are confider'd, as they were written, in contraft to each other. There is a great variety of pleafing images in each of them, and it is remarkable
Find out fome uncouth cell,
Where brooding darkness spreads his jealous wings, And the night raven fings;
There under ebon fhades, and low-brow'd rocks, As rágged as thy locks,
In dark Cimmerian defert ever dwell.
But come thou Goddess fair and free,
In Heav'n ycleap'd Euphrofyne,
And by men heart-eafing Mirth,
Whom lovely Venus at a birth
With two fifter Graces more
To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore;
Or whether (as some sages fing)
The frolic wind that breathes the spring,
Zephyr with Aurora playing,
As he met her once a Maying
There on beds of violets blue,
And fresh blown roses wash'd in dew,
Fill'd her with thee a daughter fair,
So buxom, blithe, and debonair.
Hafte thee Nymph, and bring with thee
Jeft and youthful Jollity,
Quips and Cranks and wanton Wiles,
Nods and Becks, and wreathed Smiles
Such as hang on Hebe's cheek,
And love to live in dimple sleek;
that the poet reprefents feveral of the fame objects as exciting both mirth and melancholy, and affecting us differently according to the different difpofitions and affections of the foul. This is nature and experience. He derives the title of both poems from the Italian, which language was then principally in vogue. L'Allegre is the chearful merry man; and in this poem he defcribes the course of mirth in the country and in the city from morning to noon, and from noon till night.
12. Euphrofyne, is the name of one of the three Graces mentioned by Hefiod
Sport that wrinkled Care derides,
And Laughter holding both his fides.
Come, and trip it as you go
On the light fantastic toe,
And in thy right hand lead with thee,
The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty;
And if I give thee honor due,
Mirth, admit me of thy crew
To live with her, and live with thee,
In unreproved pleasures free;
To hear the lark begin his flight,
And finging startle the dull night,
From his watch-tow'r in the skies,
Till the dappled dawn doth rife;
Then to come in fpite of forrow,
And at my window bid good-morrow,
Through the fweet briar, or the vine,
Or the twisted eglantine:
While the cock with lively din
Scatters the rear of darkness thin,
And to the ftack, or the barn-door,
Stoutly ftruts his dames before:
Oft lift'ning how the hounds and horn
Chearly roufe the flumb'ring morn,
From the fide of fome hoar hill,
Through the high wood echoing fhrill :
Some time walking not unseen
By hedge-row elms, on hillocs green,
Right against the eastern gate,
Where the great fun begins his ftate,
36. The mountain nymph, fweet Liberty;] Liberty is call'd the mountain nymph, because the people in mountainous countries have generally preferved their Liberties longeft, as the inhabitants of Wales formerly, and thofe of Switzerland at this day,
Rob'd in flames, and amber light,
The clouds in thousand liveries dight,
While the plowman near at hand
Whistles o'er the furrow'd land,
And the milk-maid fingeth blithe,
And the mower whets his fithe,
And every fhepherd tells his tale
Under the hawthorn in the dale.
Strait mine eye hath caught new pleasures
Whilft the landskip round it measures,
Ruffet lawns, and fallows gray,
Where the nibbling flocks do ftray,
Mountains on whose barren breast
The lab'ring clouds do often rest,
Meadows trim with daifies pied,
Shallow brooks, and rivers wide.
Towers and battlements it fees
Bofom'd high in tufted trees,
Where perhaps fome beauty lies,
The Cynofure of neighb'ring eyes.
Hard by, a cottage chimney smokes,
From betwixt two aged oaks,
Where Corydon and Thyrfis met,
Are at their favory dinner fet
Of herbs, and other country meffes,
Which the neat-handed Phillis dreffes;
And then in hafte her bow'r fhe leaves,
With Theftylis to bind the sheaves;
Or if the earlier feafon lead
To the tann'd haycock in the mead.
Sometimes with fecure delight
The upland hamlets will invite,
When the merry bells ring round,
And the jocund rebecs found
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