Wild Fancy whispers in her ear, She whirls away the rolling year! Youth, manhood comes! she marks afar Her heart leaps quick! elate with pride! His barns with swelling sheaves are stor'd, 'For hopes like these who would not toil, Struck with the glitt'ring vest he wore, } Inflam'd with fury and surprise, Red anger flashes from his eyes: • Must I,' he cried, and scratch'd his head, Supply this prattling thing with bread? • Must farmers sweat, and wear their clothes, To furnish equipage for beaux? 'We, drudges doom'd to ceaseless toil, For others tear the stubborn soil, 'Our thoughts suspense and fears inflame, • Wretched and slav'd beyond a name; • While these amid the balmy bower, 'Spend in soft ease the fleeting hour;"How fine they look! what charms they shew, "Ah! would that I were but a Beau!' And soon-most wond'rous to relate,→ His furrow'd brow became more smooth, But rapt in dreams of bliss, the Fool When thus transform'd, our glittering Beau Survey'd himself from top to toe, Struck at the change with vast surprise, And, while the swains in rude amaze, Leads the gay dance, and rules the ball. Ah! what a shape! fair Daphne cries, 'How fine his mien ! how bright his eyes!" Some prais'd the paint, and some the feather E'er match'd the sleeve that grac'd his wrist; The lace, from Brussels last ;-by chance He pick'd the brilliant up in France. His coat so trim ! so neat his shoe! His limbs so shap'd to strut, or-bow! But, ah! what grief the Muse proceeds: What power can mend the vulgar's deeds! One night a coachman set him down, FABLE XLIV. THE THREE WARNINGS. By Mrs. Thrale, afterwards Mrs. Piozzi. THE tree of deepest root is found This great affection to believe, こ Which all confess, but few perceive, Be pleas'd to hear a modern tale. When mirth went round, and all were gay On neighbour Dobson's wedding day, Death call'd aside the jocund groom With him into another room; And looking grave, you must,' says he, 'Quit your sweet bride, and come with me.' "With you! and quit my Susan's side! "With you!' the hapless husband cry'd: Young as I am, 'tis monstrous hard; 'Besides, in truth, I'm not prepar'd: 'My thoughts on other matters go; 'This is my Wedding-day, you know.' What more he urg'd I have not heard ;His reasons could not well be stronger; So Death the poor delinquent spar'd, And left to live a little longer. Yet calling up a serious look, His hour-glass trembling while he spoke; ' Neighbour,' he said, 'Farewell! no more 'Shall Death disturb your mirthful hour; 'And, farther, to avoid all blame 'Of cruelty upon my name, 'To give you time for preparation, 'And fit you for your future station, 5 |