Thus fall'n by cunning's sneaking plot,
With joy they strip his horny coat;
('Twas wondrous to behold!)
"By heavens !' I cried, at length I've found
A skin that's proof 'gainst mortal wound!
'Tis worth its weight in gold!'
Torn from the side it lately grac'd,
A slice I cut with eager haste;
A tough, tenacious slip!
And hurrying home to British land,
Gave it to Kelly in the Strand,*
Who form'd it to a whip.
Thus arm'd, with virtue on your side,
Unconquer'd reign, undaunted ride,
Nor fear e'en Ladet or Archer.†
Some dame indeed may whoop and crack,
But let Rhinoceros touch her back,
It will both blue and starch her.
O could its virtues but repair
The lungs of thy half-winded mare,
How great would be thy glory!
From Linsted town thy fame would trot
E'en to the house of Johnny Grot,
Then should we hear in clam'rous boast,
How one young fair one rul'd the roast,
As Pitt now rules the nation;
Whipmaker to the Prince of Wales.
Sir John Lade and Lady Archer, two of the most celebrated phaeton drivers in England.
Made female jockies bounce and skip, And by the pow'r of one fam'd Whip, Flogg'd vice from freedom's station!
But since, alas! no cure we know,
Since Phill must puff, or you move slow,
Mark well a friend's direction.
Hold fast the reins of female pride,
Whip ev'ry coxcomb from your side,
To listen is-infection.
Yet should the man, of worth possest,
Fair candour glowing at his breast,
Confess thy power of charms;
List to his tale, be frank, be kind,
Unfashion'd blush to love refin'd,
And whip into his arms!
Sæpius ventis agitatur ingens
Pinus; et celsæ graviore casu
Decidunt turres, feriuntque summos
Fulmina montesHOR.
How varied lies the chequer'd scene!—
Dunmait capt with snow;
While humbler smiles, in vernal green,
The sun-clad vale below:
Gay spring her cheering task performs,
Regardless of the wintry storms
That sweep proud Ochil's lofty side;
And shelter'd from the whirling gale,
Secure smooth glides the winding sail
Down Forth's meandering tide.
Alas! how like the chequer'd state
Of man's contrasted lot!
The storms that whirl round Grandeur's gate,
The peasant's shelter'd cot;
Disdainful pride, with wintry brow;
Rough labour, jocund at his plough,
Still cheer'd by health's unclouded beam;
While safe from luxury's whelming tide
Peace, hope, and resignation glide
Down life's untroubled stream.
To meditation's musing mind
Still moral pictures rise :
Ambition, dash'd by fortune's wind,
When tow'ring to the skies:
Exalted beauty, doom'd to move
In climes unwarm'd by genial love,
Tost by the storms of sordid strife!—
While nurtur'd in some vale obscure,
The humbler fair one blooms secure
The mistress and the wife!
But late in strength and beauty's prime,
The tow'ring Plane arose ;
Proud, o'er Strevlina's height sublime
It wav'd its mantling boughs!
What time mild evening gilds her star,
The trav❜ller spy'd it from afar
And, raptur'd wonder'd where it grew ;
Fond fancy plac'd its magic height
Mid regions streak'd with golden light
Through Heav'n's ethereal blue !—
Embosom'd in the bank below,
That courts the southern breeze,
The humbler Hawthorn's doom'd to blow,
Mid kindred shrubs and trees!
Obscure, its balmy sweets diffuse,
Unmark'd, save by the moral muse,
That nightly breathes the rich perfume !—
Ah! what is Grandeur's splendid show!-
Ambition, mark !-the Plane laid low!*
The Hawthorn left to bloom.
• The cutting down of this beautiful tree (a circumstance that gave general dissatisfaction) occasioned the present ode.
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