Of Gilderoy sae fraid they were,
They bound him mickle strong,

Tull Edenburrow they led him thair,
And on a gallows hung:

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They hung him high aboon the rest,

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He was sae trim a boy;

Thair dyed the youth whom I lued best,
My handsome Gilderoy.

Thus having yielded up his breath,

I bare his corpse away,

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Wi' tears, that trickled for his death,

I washt his comelye clay;

And

And siker in a grave sae deep,

I laid the dear-lued boy,
And now for evir maun I

My winsome Gilderoy.

weep,

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XIII.

WINIFREDA.

This beautiful address to conjugal love, a subject too much neglected by the libertine Muses, was, I believe, first printed in a volume of "Miscellaneous Poems, by several hands, published by D. [David] Lewis, 1726, 8vo."

It is there said, how truly I know not, to be a translation" from the ancient British language."

AWAY; let nought to love displeasing,
My Winifreda, move your care;
Let nought delay the heavenly blessing,

Nor squeamish pride, nor gloomy fear.

What tho' no grants of royal donors

With pompous titles grace our blood;
We'll shine in more substantial honors,
And to be noble we'll be good.

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Our name, while virtue thus we tender,

Will sweetly sound where-e'er 'tis spoke :

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And all the great ones, they shall wonder
How they respect such little folk.

What

What though from fortune's lavish bounty
No mighty treasures we possess ;
We'll find within our pittance plenty,

And be content without excess.

Still shall each returning season
Sufficient for our wishes give;

For we will live a life of reason,

And that's the only life to live.

Through youth and age in love excelling,
We'll hand in hand together tread;
Sweet-smiling peace shall crown our dwelling,
And babes, sweet-smiling babes, our bed.

How should I love the pretty creatures,

While round my knees they fondly clung;

To see them look their mothers features,
To hear them lisp their mothers tongue.

And when with envy time transported,
Shall think to rob us of our joys,
You'll in your girls again be courted,
And I'll go a wooing in my boys.

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XIV. THE

XIV.

THE WITCH OF WOKEY

was published in a small collection of poems, entitled, EUTHEMIA, OR THE POWER OF HARMONY, &C. 1756, written, in 1748, by the ingenious Dr. HARRINGTON, of Bath, who never allowed them to be published, and withheld his name till it could no longer be concealed. The following copy was furnished by the late Mr. SHENSTONE, with some variations and corrections of his own, which he had taken the liberty to propose, and for which the Author's indulgence was intreated. In this edition it was intended to reprint the Author's own original copy; but, as that may be seen correctly given in PEARCH'S Collection, vol. i. 1783, p. 161, it was thought the reader of taste would wish to have the variations preserved; they are therefore still retained here, which it is hoped the worthy Author will excuse with his wonted liberality.

WOKEY-HOLE is a noted cavern in Somersetshire, which has given birth to as many wild fanciful stories as the Sybils Cave, in Italy. Through a very narrow entrance, it opens into a very large vault, the roof whereof, either on account of its height, or the thickness of the gloom, cannot be discovered by the light of torches. It goes winding a great way under ground, is crost by a stream/of very cold water, and is all horrid with broken pieces of rock: many of these are evident petrifactions; which, on account of their singular forms, have given rise to the fables alluded to in this poem.

IN

In aunciente days tradition showes

A base and wicked elfe arose,

The Witch of Wokey hight: Oft have I heard the fearfull tale From Sue, and Roger of the vale, On some long winter's night.

Deep in the dreary dismall cell,
Which seem'd and was ycleped hell,
This blear-eyed hag did hide :
Nine wicked elves, as legends sayne,
She chose to form her guardian trayne,
And kennel near her side.

Here screeching owls oft made their nest,
While wolves its craggy sides possest,

Night-howling thro' the rock :

No wholesome herb could here be found;

She blasted every plant around,

And blister'd every flock.

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