THE engUs*) ©ante of 3Beat|) FROM THE DESIGNS OF THOMAS ROWLAND SON, WITH METRICAL ILLUSTRATIONS, BY THE AUTHOR OF "DOCTOR SYNTAX." Pallida Mors aquo pulsat pede pauperum tabernas Regumque turres. Hor. Lib. I. Od. 4. . With equal Pace, impartial Fate Knocks at the Palace, as the Cottage Gate. — »®<* — VOL. II. — »@« — PRINTED BY J. D1GGENS, ST. ANN'S LANE; Published at R. Ackgrmann's Repository of Arts, 101, Struud AND TO BE HAD OF All the Book and Print-sellers in the United Kingdom. 1816. THE €nglts|) ©ance of 3Bea$* ®\)t §>utciTie, THE various ways, the various shapes, By which imprison'd man escapes From Life's enclosure, to the clime That beams beyond the reach of time, The narratives of every day Do to reflection's eye display. Naked we issue from the womb, Naked we seek the destin'd tomb : What troubles are we form'd to brave, Between the cradle and the grave, If 'tis the sacred will of Heaven That years and length of days are given ! VOL. II. A 2 ENGLISH DANCE OP DEATH. The new-born infant, with his breath, Imbibes the mortal seeds of death ; And ev'ry day and ev'ry hour May yield him to the Tyrant's power. While hanging on his mother's breast, Nourish'd and fondled and carest, How oft he mocks the tender care That dotes as he is clinging there : He scarce moans forth one feeble cry, And his first morrow sees him die : Nay, e'er his eyes behold the sun, Perhaps his puny race is run. If Death could feel, its stern decree Would spare our prattling Infancy : That age whose looks, whose words dispense Th' attractive charms of Innocence; That April morn on which appears The blended scene of smiles and tears, Whose pantomimic grace affords The meaning of half utter'd words : ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. $ But Infancy's enchanting smile Does not th' unpitying power beguile ; For when the fatal arrow flies, The prattler's dumb, — the Cherub dies. Nor yet when Reason's dawning hour Beams on the mind its rip'ning power, And from the Nurs'ry goes the Boy, His Father's Heir, his Mother's Joy, To sink beneath the rigid rule Of some leam'd Pedagogue at school ; Yet still he grieves not, as he views The early flowers which Science strews Around his path, while she bestows The chaplet rude to deck his brows. —What though his unform'd thoughts impart The flowing virtues of his heart; What though the lovliest bloom appears, Fair promise of maturer years, While Hyacinthine ringlets grace The rosy honours of his face, A 2 4 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH- Death, in an unexpected hour, May crop at once the op'ning flower, So sweet, so pleasing to the eye; And, as its promis'd virtues die, Leave fond Affection, where they sleep, To rear the sculptur'd tomb, and weep. The Age of Passion next succeeds : — Love wounds ; the tender bosom bleeds ; — Young Honour wakes the glowing fire ; The eager ear to Pleasure's lyre Enraptur'd yields, nor thinks the strain Which Syrens sing can foster pain. Love's arrow rankling in the breast Not only robs each hour of rest, But, barb'd with hopeless passion, proves The dart of Death to her who loves. — How many an ardent warrior stains With his young blood, th* embattled plains When the plum'd helm and pomp of war Are left to grace the funeral car: ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. And ah, too oft, in Life's gay bloom Licentious pleasure finds a tomb. Reason, that grave, and solemn sage, In vain may ope th' instructive page, To guide the ardent hopes of youth In the unerring ways of truth ; In vain with awful voice impart Its sober warnings to the heart, Where the warm passions claim controul, O'er the best impulse of the soul. — If Reason finds her efforts vain, The Dance of Pleasure leads to pain ; And all the gifts that Fortune pours Prove poison, deck'd with fading flowers. — If hurrying passion leads the way, And governs with superior sway, If it looks round for its delights In fev'rish days and wanton nights, 'Tis not the mind alone that lies, Depriv'd of its best energies * But Life itself may find its fate, A painful end, a shorten'd date. 6 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. Then come the years, when other cares And other wants our nature shares ; Ambition claims the anxious hour, And seeks the dang'rous road to power, — Perils surround the giddy heights, Whose sun-clad eminence invites The votaries of Pride to find The Rod by which to rule mankind j The art their rivals to subdue And gain the honours they pursue: But while the cringing croud below To the rais'd Idol humbly bow ; The dark storm lowers, the summit shakes Upon his head the tempest breaks, And from his dream the proud man wakes ; Wakes, in amazement sad, to feel The sudden whirl of Fortune's wheel, Nor daring his disgrace to brave, Forsaken, sinks into the grave. — Wealth too, the busy wish employs, And added gold the mind enjoys. ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. How many, quitting* health and ease, 'Mid storms and tempests plough the seas, To distant climes delighted roam, To bring the gainful venture home, But oft upon some distant coast, They and their treasures all are lost, At length comes the concluding stage Of Life's long, weary pilgrimage; When Age has caught us in its clutch, And the weak limbs demand the crutch ; When wrinkled brow and hoary head Mark that so many years are fled, Too blest, if Wisdom doth befriend And teach our life to love its end. But still unsung the various ills Which man throughout Life's journey feel Or hanging daily o'er our head, We all are doom cl to know, or dread, And serve to checquer every scene, Where casual pleasures intervene. 8 ENGLISH DANCE OP DEATH. The noisome pestilence by day That makes of crowds a sudden prey ; The dart that in the darksome ni^ht Swiftly wings its secret flight : The slow disease and subtle paiu Which Nature's destin'd to sustain ; The loud and agonising groan That waits upon the racking stone ; The shaking Ague's wasting power, And the fierce Fever's raging hour : The Paralytic's trembling hand That its own Master's fond command Refuses to obey ; the ear That numb'd and deafen'd cannot hear When all the organs of the eye, Darken'd, in dim suffusion lie ; And every ray of cheering light Is lost in everlasting night. Such are among the evils sent To plague our fleshly tenement ; But there are others which we find The busy Tort'rers of the mind. ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. Do we not see what numbers prove The wounds of disappointed Love ; And all the jealous pangs that wait Upon a favour'd rival's fate? —What anxious cares disturb his breast, Who early rises— late takes rest; And, though borne on by Fortune's gale, At length may find his prospects fail : Just as he thinks the voyage o'er, ^ Resolv'd to risk and toil no more, T He may be wreck' d upon the shore. — To-day a hated foe is seen, With scornful air and haughty mien, Enjoying all the prosp'rous state, Which Chance has given to make him great To-morrow, weeping we attend The Dirges of a faithful Friend. —The loss of Honour's due reward ; By Vice the meed of Virtue shar'd,— The noblest feelings of the heart, Become the Dupes of knavish art. VOL. II. » 10 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. — Justice perverted, and the Laws Check'd in their course by quirks and flaws,. Or, turn'd and twin'd, too often prove Worse than the wrongs they should remove. ; — Pretending Friendship's fair deceit ; And false caresses of the great ; The Courtier's Lie clad in grimace, Th' unfeeling heart, with smiling face; And Calumny, for ever wrong, With Aspic poison 'neath its tongue, An Angel's virtues will decry, By the shrewd hint or bare-fac'd lie, Which the apt world too well receives, And listens while the Falsehood lives. —Again,— what various trouble fills The Volume of domestic Ills, The wife weeps o'er the Husband's bier, A Husband dead demands the tear; A child with all its promis'd bloom, Sinks prematurely to the tomb, And various accidents befall The common progress of us all. ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. Such are the woes ordain'd by Fate, In which it seems our mortal state Must more, or less, participate : Though thanks to Heaven, while these annoy, We have a portion too of joy. But still, whatever may be our share Of mortal pain and human care, 'Tis Heaven inflicts, and man should bear. What, though self-murd'ring Brutus bled, And Cato made the weapon red In his own blood, the Stoic's rage That shines upon th' Historic page, Must yield, in energy of mind, To him who, patient and resign'd To Heaven's high will and wise decree, Whate'er the heavy trial may be, Beneath it all lives bravely on, Till Nature's doubtful course is run, Philosophy, in all its Pride, Cannot defend the Suicide r 2 12 ENGLISH DANCE OP DEATH, By any Law, by any rule In Reason's or Religion's school : Life's the peculiar gift of Heav'n, And He alone by whom 'tis given, Can have alone the power to give The stroke by which we cease to live. Is Man to say — I've reach 'd the goal, I'll now dismiss th' imprison'd soul ; With my own hand I'll ope the way From its base tenement of clay ; Tir'd of its sufferings here below, I'll loose it from this scene of woe ; I'll prune its wings and let it fly, To seek again its native sky : Yes, I will quench my mortal breath, I'll be the judge of Life and Death, — But should, in its immortal sphere, Say, should th' unsummon'd soul appear What, what may be the sentence there ! Stay then thy hand, e'er 'tis too late, Nor madly rush upon thy Fate ! ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 13 Thou shudd'rest at the horrid mood, When Murder drinks a brother's blood ; And dare you hope for Virtue's crown, When your arm'd hand draws forth your own ! Does He the high behests fulfill, Of Heav'nly power, of Heav'nly will, Who, with a murm'ring tongue complains, That he is charg'd with mortal pains, More than his frame is form'd to bear? Will he his Maker's Laws declare Harsh and unjust ; — shall he, weak man, Through Passion's mist, presume to scan The views mysterious that guide Our passage o'er the tossing tide Of chance and pain ; — Say, shall he dare To fly what he was born to bear, Nor ask of Patience to supply The strong and guardian panoply, That, in each trial, will befriend His warfare to th' appointed end. 14 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. The very structure of our frame Does Self-destruction's crime disclaim. Man may announce, — I'll move,, I'll run, I'll speak, I'll gaze, — and it is done. The limbs are prone to his command : The nimble feet, the grasping hand, And every organic sense Submits to his Omnipotence : — But, if he idly says, — I'll die j — Nature refuses to comply : Weak is his unassisted will ; And his mere wishes do not kill. But, if determin'd to succeed, And perpetrate the fatal deed, He must, alas, call to his aid, Th' exploding burst, the sharpen'd blade, Or poison' d cup, — or end the dream Of Horror in the troubled Stream. Reason 'tis not, as some have said. JSy vain Philosophy betray'd, ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. To Life's apportioned ills to yield, And force Death to th' untimely field. — 'Tis the Disease that's sometimes seen, With pallid look, and haggard mien, Which its black visions doth impart To sadden, and to chill the heart ; While Melancholy, silent maid, Of its own gloomy thoughts afraid, Refines the musings that supply The wish, and the resolve to die, ■ — Or it is Passion's raging burst That seeks the best and does the worst, Whose impulse, to reflection blind, Drives reason from the startled mind ; And aggravating, by its power, The poignant suff'ring of the hour, Hastes the dread comfort to prepare. And finds the refuge of Despair. Alas, I've, such a tale to tell Of one who lov'd, but lov'd too well, 16 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. The Fair was grac'd with every charm That can the coldest bosom warm ; And Virtue's self was seen to shine In the warm breast of Caroline. The Youth, to whom her heart she gave, Was noble, generous and brave ; And that, which in return was given, She thought the precious boon of Heaven. Hymen was summon'd to adorn His Altar on the following morn, At that morn's dawning Henry 'woke, Expected joys his slumbers broke : He saunter'd forfti to catch the breeze That curl'd the bosom of the seas, And while he pac'd along the shore/ Counting his future pleasures o'er, He saw a shallop foundering nigh ; He heard Despair's alarming cry, And boldly plunging in the wave, The sinking Mariner to save, He found himself a wat'ry grave. ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. — The tidings to the Bride were brought, In frantic haste the spot she sought; And viewing, from the heights above, All that remain'd for her to love, She darted headlong to the tide, And on her Henry's bosom died. Their tomb is rais'd upon the shore, And round its base the billows roar : There oft the Seaman slacks the sail, And to the Stranger tells the tale. VOL. II. c 18 ENGLISH DANGE OF DEATH, eijmnjpagne, g>j)ertp, atxtr floater <3ml "TWO aged men, but of what sort, 'Tis not material to report : Suffice it, as the story's told, They both were very, very old, And had attain'd to full fourscore, Though I have heard, 'twas somewhat more. Their cheeks with ruddy colour glow'd, Their hoary locks in ringlets flow'd, And such their strength and sprightly air, That strangers who had view'd the pair, Would have suppos'd they could not boast Of more than sixty years at most. — On being ask'd what means they took To cheat age of its wither'd look, The one, in grave and solemn pride To the Enquirer thus replied." 1 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 19 (( Through the long course that I have run, This maxim I've pursu'd, — to shun Intemperance, and all its brood Of vices that inflame the blood ; Or check its current through the veins, Engend'ring endless aches and pains. I never, like an hungry beast, O'ercharg'd my stomach at a feast; Nor, by a glutton maw misled, With season'd meats the juices fed, Forming gross humours which, by stealth, Prey on the vital source of Health. I never pass'd the feverish nights With Bacchus, and his madd'ning rites ; Ne'er lost my Reason, gift divine, In bowls of riot-stirring wine ; Nay, I can boast, 1 ne'er was found Drunken, and senseless on the ground: Ne'er did I sober hours pollute, By turning man into a brute. My Beverage, let the Drunkard sneer, — Was sought from rill and fountain clear. c % 20 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH- Hence equal spirits cheer'd the day, With calm, but yet, enliv'ning ray ; Nor do wild Fancy's dreams affright The tranquil slumbers of the night. Ne'er sought I sensual Pleasure's bower, To waste and dissipate the hour: Nor did I in those scenes engage, Which shorten youth and hasten age, Hence I see, and who will doubt me, My children all grow old about me ; Who, having liv'd by my sage rule, Do credit to their Father's school. Thus, fearless of the world to come, Time will conduct me to the Tomb ; And for the years that yet remain, If sorrow they should bring, and pain, I still shall bless th' Almighty power, Whose goodness rules Life's every hour, To his decrees submissive bend, And patient wait my Journey's end." He ceas'd, and having told his tale, Approving smiles around prevail. ENGLISH DANCE OP DEATH. — The other then was ask'd to tell What He had done, to look so well : To bear his age with such a grace, And scarce a wrinkle on his face. He, with a smile sarcastic spoke, As half in earnest — half in joke. Through the long course that I have run, My maxim always was to shun, Whate'er I thought a foe to fun. I was a young, unlucky Dog, But honest, and ne'er play'd the rogue : All kinds of Gambols I preferr'd, But then I never broke my word ; And I can say, in looking o'er My life, from twenty to fourscore, It was the burden of my song, Never to do my neigbour wrong ; And, 'twas my practice and delight, Always to do my neighbour right. So far, so good ; and for the rest, Why— I did that which pleas'd me best. 22 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. — I never did my thirst controul When I beheld the flowing bowl; Nor was it known that Thomas Hearty When join'd with any jovial party : E'er felt a melancholy shock To hear the cry " past four o'clock," Unless he felt it as a warning Of the dull period of the morning, When Phoebus, in his gilded cart, Would shortly bid them all depart, I, through my Life, a jolly fellow. Scarce went to bed but I was mellow; And I'd a head, a gift divine, That never felt an ache from wine : Nor did my stomach play the trick, However fill cl, of being sick : Nor was my reason ever lost So as to run against a post ; Nor could my Cups my senses smother, That I took one door for another. Besides my wife, if she were here, But she has reach'd a better sphere, ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 23 Would say that, though her Tom might roam,, He always brought good humour home : — For though I sometimes chang'd the feast, I always lov'd my Dolly best: New Beauties might a flame impart, But she alone possest my heart, i — I ne'er to wine was a Defaulter, And therefore never call'd for water, That meager, mawkish, tasteless thing, From running rill and chrystal spring. 0 'tis a beverage, I must think Fit but for Fish and Beasts to drink. — Nay, when my dearest Partner died, And I sat sadly down and cried, 1 almost turn'd my sobs to laughter To think my tears were made of water. Besides, I have my children four, Who now are verging to threescore : They all partake their father's joys ; I crack my bottle with my boys. — My daughter has reach 'd fifty-five. The very best Old Maid alive : 24 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. Who, though a beauty, ne'er could find A Husband suited to her mind. 0 how I like my Moll to see Dropping the good thing in her tea ; Nay, I could hug and kiss the Lass, When she says " Sir, another glass." 1 think I should with pleasure throttle To hear her say, " another bottle." Whatever time I'm doom'd to last, 0 may it all be like the past : And till I reach my latter end, Enjoy my bottle and my friend, As it has been my constant song, Never to do my neighbour wrong ; As it has been my fond delight, Ever to do my neighbour right, 1 need not surely be afraid, When Death shall call me to the shade. But if, at length, before I go, The Powers above will have it so, That I should feel the twinging gout, Bacchus shall try to drive it out: ENGLISH DANCE OP DEATH. &5 Though if the Foe's resolv'd to stay, I'll calmly let him have his way ; And if the Doctors breed a riot \ With draught and pill — I '11 scorn their diet ; r I'll take my glass, — and die in quiet." ^ Such was Tom Champagne's pleasant tale, Nor did the boozing mortal fail To toast the man who loves his friend, And fills his bumpers to the end ; Nor e'er will quit the running spout, Till his Life's ruby cask is out : Then, turning to his comely Dame, He bid the Lady do the same — " Here by my side is neighbour Sherry, Who never sorry is, or merry ; Who on a chicken wing can dine, Content with thimble-fulls of wine. He talks, and chuckles as he speaks Of mad Intemp'rance and its freaks : But faith, I laugh at all his prosing A Life like his is only dosing : vol, n. d 26 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. He only can be said to wake Who freely does his bumper take. Ned hints a smile, but if he'd quaff The jovial bowl, he'd learn to laugh : Did he regale on ham and chine, He'd have a shape as round as mine : — His fatten'd cheeks like mine would glow, Where wrinkles are not seen to grow ; But he pursues his mawkish dream, And looks for fat in curds and cream. — Nay, there's Sir Jemmy in the comer, But not like sing-song Jacky Homer, Feeding on beef and Christmas pie, But lapping up his Firmity : He's one of those, as I've heard tell. Who think it vulgar to be well, And deem it elegance to sit, Vap'ring in melancholy fit. He suffers life to run to waste In what your fine-bred folks call taste ; So smooth, so polish'd, so refin'd, That the firm energy of mind, ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 2? Which ought to be our mortal boast, Is in the soft embroid'ry lost j And then each gawdy whim is seen Through the transparent Fillagreen ; While his pure, sentimental flame Relaxes the whole nervous frame, And shows him to the passing eye, A poor, weak, flutt 'ring butterfly. Sago, Panada; and the doses Which the Physician's pen composes, Is the Chevalier's daily theme ; And, I presume, his nightly dream. All this is bad, but, what is worse, He turns his Cook into a Nurse ; And watches her the morning long Lest she should make the broth too strong. 'Tis true, I sometimes steer this way To give his sinking spirits play: To cheer his heart with friendly Joke, And make his wintry chimnies smoke ; To set his wond'ring pots a boiling, And keep his brisk Champagne from spoiling. d % <£» ENGLISH DANCE- OF DEATH. —I've not, my friend, forgot the time, When you and I were in our prime : 'Twas when we both had just left college. Though you, I own, had all the knowledge But then you let loose your caprices, And with your Sisters and your Nieces Humdrumm'd away your fine-spun Life, For you ne'er stumbled on a wife; And though you were so good, 'tis certain, You could play tricks behind the curtain. Come then, throw off your cap and gown-, And let some maiden rub you down. Restore, I pray, each woe-worn feature, And be again a human creature. Change to good fare your starvingdiet: Kick up a dust and breed a riot. Be not so sad, nor shake your head ; And keep those looks till you are dead." " Thou jovial, noisy, pleasant wight," Replied th* exhilarated Knight, " You never will your fancy balk, Whenever you've the itch to talk; ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 29 Nor ever were you known to pass In silence, your too frequent glass : But well I know thy friendly heart, How gen'rous, how devoid of art ! And though you rather stun my ears, Your humour still my spirits cheers, While you the plenteous goblets quaff, And at my whims and fancies laugh, I know full well you cannot steel Your breast, against the pains I feel : And much I wish your Life my Friend, May not to draughts and doses tend : For many a one may laugh to see Tom melted down as thin as me. E'er a few fleeting years are past, He may to slip-slops come at last. That you have laugh 'd at me is true ; 'Tis what you've long been us'd to do; But younger folks may laugh at you." tc You may believe, my good Sir Jambs, I'll sooner plunge me in the Thames, 30 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. Than be like you Mortis Imago, And think it life to live on Sago. When Nature burns out all my fuel And pins me down to water- gruel, I'll call on Death to intervene, And close at once the Milksop scene. Thus in sarcastic tone he spoke, And as he schem'd another Joke, The Spectre from the corner creeps, And o'er the sick man's shoulder peeps. Tom felt surpris'd, then gap'd and star'd. But his stout spirits were not scar'd : Nor did he e'er for mercy crave, When two full bottles made him brave. Thus in his view the Figure stood That cannot boast of flesh and blood. « I see," says Tom, " you've got a glass, But I'll not let the bottle pass : Turn out the sand, and let me fill in, A Nectar that is worth the swilling." ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 31 — Death grinn'd a smile,, and shook his head, And stretch'd his fleshless arm and said : — " Know, that I'm now dispos'd to feel A longing for a meagre meal ; And He on whom I've laid my paw, Is the next morsel for my maw : But I shall surely leave you quiet, Till I'm in search of fatter diet. J Tis true, you Topers sometimes stay, When sober folks are caught away ; But Temp'rance is, as you should know, To Health a Friend, to Pain a Foe ; That Virtue forms a fav'rite rule Which Wisdom teaches in her School; And Master Sherry, who sits there, Nor smiles with joy, nor frowns with care, Will dance with me, in easy pace, Long after you have run your race. — Sir James was well, but not content, To ev'ry learned Doctor went To make him better; and you see His picture of Mortality. 32 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. — As life is ever running fast, And I must have you all at last, I'll tell you, and I'll tell you true, What 'tis you mortals ought to do. If you to Life's remotest date, Would keep my visit from your gate ; — Extremes endeavour to forego — Nor feed too high, — nor feed too low : A medium I would recommend 'Tween Tom and his departed Friend. ENGLISH DANCE OP DEATH. S3 ASK Nature when her powers impart The strongest impulse to the Heart? When she the fondest passion moves, And the most heighten'd feeling proves? — Ask when the first of joys appears. Though often shar'd with tort'ring fears? It is not when she gives the grace Of Beauty to the living face, Or bids the form, with plastic art, To harmonise in ev'ry part; 'Tis not when she the mind prepares For Reason's power and growing cares, Or watches the progressive plan Of Life, through ev'ry stage of man. VOL. II. E 34 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH, — If she should answer, she would tell, What she well knows, and feels so well : — 'Tis when she gives to be caress'd An Infant to the mother's breast; 'Tis in that feeling where excess, Howe'er enjoy'd, is happiness,, In all the forms that Nature jnves To ev'ry work of her's that lives, Whether in fashion weak, or strong, That to the air brings forth its young. Affection's first great Law applies, To nurse their various progenies. — The Tigress tender fondness owns, And the whelps hear her soften'd tones: The fell Hyena gentle grows, As she the liquid food bestows On her young cubs ; and, o'er the brood, Almost forgets the scent of blood. Thus while the soft, maternal name, Is seen the wildest brute to tame ; ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. It wakes the tim'rous fowl to dare The fury of unequal war : She seeks the foe with ruffled plumes, And a fierce, threat'ning mien assumes ; Which, when a Mother's cares are o'er, The coward Bird assumes no more. — As her alarm'd uplifted eye Beholds the mischief in the sky ; When, sailing through his airy way, The Kite is watching for his prey; She spreads her wings to guard her young ; And clucks the Danger with her tongue : While ev'ry bird that flies at large Instructs us in a parent's charge. Can then the woman e'er be found, By the first Laws of Nature bound, Who dares,, in careless mood disclaim The nursing Mother's tender name ? Say, in the breast that yields the tide, Which fost'ring Nature's springs provide, e 2 36 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. The suckling's nurture to supply, Will she by art the channels dry ; And let the new-born babe be thrown Upon a bosom not her own ? 'Tis even so : such Mothers lire Who to their Infants do not give The Milk that Nature's self prepares ; Whose stream their children claim as Heirs, And Heaven's all-sacred Laws ordain The new-born Cherub to sustain. Yes, there are Mothers — yes, who dare, Soon as it breathes the vital air, While it unfolds its opening charms, To yield it to a stranger's arms ; And let the helpless babe be press'd, Unconscious to a stranger's breast. — Does not a chilly stream impart Its shudder to the feeling heart? Does not the mind disgusted turn When the tale's told, and frowning spurn ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 37 Th' unnatural mother, when she tears From her full paps the Child she bears? While thus to chance the bantling's hurl'd, She gives her fondness to the world ; And, as she haunts where Pleasure reigns. Forgets she felt a Mother's pains. — Haste, haste, Dorinda, from the throng, Quit the gay dance and warbling song; You're call'd, with pale and trembling mien, To view a sad, heart-rending scene : — Haste to thy Infant, and prepare To view the Horrors of thy Care : The foster-mother feels no more, Than its own parent felt before : Drown'd in inebriated sleep, No vigils can the Drunkard keep. — Death rocks the Cradle, as you see, And sings his mortal Lullaby. No shrieks, no cries will now its slumbers break ; The Infant sleeps, — ah, never to awake ! 38 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. €|)e gsttonomet. HE, who with care and much ado, Has changed one blade of grass to two ; He, who an acre too has plough'd, And with good seed that acre sow'd ; He, who to the Earth has given A Tree, to rear its boughs to Heaven, And, with a chaste and loving wife, Gives but a single babe to life : Has, as 'tis said, by one whose name Stands foremost on the roll of Fame, Perform'd, in philosophic view, All that a Man's reqtiir'd to do : This done, each social claim is paid ; And when in Earth his bones are laid, The sculptor'd stone may truly tell That he has liv'd and acted well. ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. But what says Science to the Rule Thus taught in simple Nature's school : That Science which pursues her way,, Through gloomy night, or glaring day. Creation's ev'ry work explores ; Digs deep for all the hidden stores Which the Earth's darksome caves contain, And dives within the wat'ry main ; Expatiates through the fields of air, And sees the storms engender'd there ; Or boldly bids her daring eye Explore the wonders of the sky ; — While Genius, to no spot confin'd, That brightest offspring of the mind, Ranges at will, through Space and Time* In ev'ry age, in every clime ; And, oft its glorious toil to crown, Creates new Systems of its own. — Such are the classes that embrace Man's social, cultivated Race: And, as each acts the part assign 'd^ It helps, in due degree.,, to bind,, 40 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. By harmonising, just controul, The gen'ral order of the whole. Now Master Senex, who was bred To guide into the youthful head, Not that poor Two and Two make Four, Or that three Twenties form Threescore ; But the nice, calculating play Of Decimals and Algebra ; With Problems and the curious store That's found in Mathematic Lore, He always felt himself at home When 'mong the Stars he chose to roam. And, for a frisk, would sometimes stray Delighted in the Milky Way. Would bask in the Meridian Noon, And clamber Mountains in the Moon. He would the Comet's course pursue, And tell, with calculation due, How many million miles it posted, While a small Leg of Mutton roasted. And how many a thousand years Will pass before it re-appears. ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. — He never for one moment thought But of the Sciences he taught : Him never did the Fancy seize Of ploughing land, or planting trees; Nor was the sober Sage beguil'd To be the Father of a Child. A Sister, an old saving Elf, Who was as barren as himself, Added a figure to the scene, And dress'd his meat, and kept him clean. One Evening, as he view'd the sky, Through his best tube, with curious eye, And 'mid the azure wilds of air, Pursu'd the progress of a Star, A Figure seem'd to intervene, Which in the sky he ne'er had seen; But thought it some new planet given, To dignify his views of Heaven. " O this will be a precious boon ! Herschell's Volcanos in the Moon, vol. ir. F 42 ENGLISH DANCE OP DEATH. Are nought to this/' Old Senex said % " My Fortune is for ever made." — " It is, indeed/' a voice replied : The Old Man heard it — terrified ; And, as Fear threw him to the ground, Through the long tube Death gave the wound. Though Senex died no thunder roll'd, No lightning flash'd, no tempests growl' d : Nor did the Pleiades descend, In rain, to weep their faithful friend : Nor would the Moon in sorrow shroud Her silver light within a cloud : Nay, not a single sigh was given By any Star that shines in Heaven. 1 \"\'» vP? ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. JW&er of tfje iFatmlp* AT Bristol, as the Story's told. Or in some other place as old, The Healing Doctors, when they strive In vain to keep sick folks alive, Are, by the common Custom led To pay their duties to the Dead : The Patients whom they cannot save, They always usher to the grave, Nor quit at once^ the friends who fee'd 'em, But to their long last home precede 'em; Bearing, if still the traffic thrives, Silk scarfs, and hatbands, to their wives, To whom these presents come so pat To make a bonnet, or a hat ; While half a dozen put together, May form a gown for wintry weather; f % 44» ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. Or serve an (Economic turn, If they should have a cause to mourn : Nay if the Dead Man's rich, d'ye see, They get a ring that's worth a fee. Thus, though they neither sigh nor grieve, It is genteely taking leave : Besides, 'tis right to set before us, Whate'er is decent and decorous. I cannot say I like the Galen, Who, when he finds his Physic failing, Nor can restore, with all his art, The vital pulses of the Heart, Walks off, and feels no other sorrow, But for the Fee, he'll miss to-morrow. — I lately read a curious tale, Where Truth and Fancy both prevail, But few will their assent refuse To this effusion of the Muse. Eugenio was the best of men, I wish there were one such in ten; ENGLISH DANCE Of* DEATH. Nay, 'twould improve the human brood, If a tenth part were half as good. So many virtues, and so rare, Did his benignant bosom share, That, if Man could perfection know, It shone in my Eugenio. He was his parent's darling joy, A lovely, tender, duteous Boy : Prom day to day, from year to year, Along the gradual career, From Youth's gay season to the prime Of Manhood, through that doubtful time. He ne'er disturb'd a Mother's rest, Nor pain'd a watchful Father's breast. — His wedded Love a blessing prov'd.. To her whom he most fondly lov'd ; And after twenty years were past, The well-known Flitch was claim'd at last. — Nor did his virtues less proclaim The Honour of a Parent's name : He watch' d, with never-ceasing eye, O'er his lov'd, num'rous progeny, 46 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH, Who form'd a regulated stage. From infant years to youthful age ; And promis'd all that's good and fair, Beneath his never-ceasing care. His Friendships were to few confin'd, And they were of the noblest kind : But in warm Charity's embrace, His Nature clasp 'd the human race. Whene'er Old England ask'd his aid, Each claim of Loyalty was paid : The manly flame, the patriot zeal, His bosom never ceas'd to feel ; Nor e'er did Misery complain, Or ask his helping hand in vain. — Learning he lov'd, but never sought Delusive Science, that is taught By false and by fantastic rule In Fancy's bower or Sceptic School ; He, from the purest fountains, drew The knowledge which the wise pursue ; Profound and useful and refin'd, To gild and to instruct the mind. ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. While fair Religion's sacred Lore, Sanctified the varied store. —Such was Eugenio :— If to these Are join'd the wish and power to please, Reflection's eye the whole may scan, Of this incomparable man. Wealth did his days with plenty crown, And wide Domains were all his own. — But he was not exempt from fate : The evils of our mortal state He felt like other men : Disease Did on his yielding vitals seize. The Fever rag'd, the Doctor came, But could not cool the fatal flame ; He fear'd the worst, and ask'd the aid Of some learn'd brother of his trade : But the two Doctors both agreed, No mortal Med'cine could succeed ; But still it would be well to try What further Counsels may supply : — A Third appears, and says no more Than what his Brethren said before. *» ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. They saw Death in his pale array, So took their Fees and walk'd away. —Amid the tears, the sobs, the sighs, That round expiring virtue rise, The Tyrant stretch'd his arms well pleas'd, And soon th' expiring victim seiz'd. The Wife around her Husband The Children on their Mother hung ; And all that view'd the scene exprest The moanings of an aching breast. " Cease," said Eugenio, " cease to grieve, " And these my parting words receive : " With patience bear the stroke that's given " Be good,— and leave the rest to Heaven. " O let not Sorrow heave a sigh, " When thus you see a christian die/* ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH- JFall of JTour m tynxto. THE crime by which the Angels fell Who aim'd at Heaven and sunk to Hell, Is known on Earth — nor does it fail In human bosoms to prevail With the like Influence, and extends Its wish to Earth's remotest ends : Nay, if its fierce, subduing Sword, Like that of Macedonia's Lord, Should make th' affrighted world turn pale And many a nation weep and wail, Would weep itself, when all was won, For other realms to be undone. 'Tis strange, alas, 'tis wond'rous strange That mortal man should wish to change VOL. II. G 50 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. The heart-felt pleasures that await On Virtue's all ennobling state And risk his goodness to be great ; Uncertain that he e'er shall gain The point he wishes to attain, Or if attain'd, that in an hour. Fate may not by its deadly power Destroy the labours of his pride, And lay him breathless by their side. The man to whom is handed down Through many an age the regal crown, And bears within his scepter'd hand The power a nation to command, Possesses, from his Royal Birth, The means to be a God on earth ; Honour and Justice to maintain, By wise, protecting Laws to reign; To cherish Industry and Arts, And live within the grateful hearts Of subject millions, who can boast The Sov'reign in the Father lost. ENGLISH DANCE OP DEATH. Is there on earth so bright a state As his on whom a people wait For ev'ry good that Life can give, And from his pow'r that good receive ? What sounds so grateful to the ear Can a wise, patriot monarch hear, As when a Nation's voices raise The song of Universal praise ? Thus may a Sov'reign truly prove Yice-gerent of the Power above. Say, is it Glory's nobler aim To win by War a Conqueror's name ? And is it Honour's highest meed To make a Nation's bosom bleed ; To mount Bellona's armed car, And plunge into the thickest war j Or is it for a people's good To seek for Laurels steep'd in blood ? Is it the guerdon of the brave To murder, ransack, and enslave? b2 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. A monarch gains not fair renown } Nor gives true Lustre to his Throne,, f By seizing countries not his own. r That Diadem's the brightest far Which bears no type of bloody war ; But where sweet peace is seen to shed Its mild beams round the Sov'reign's head. But should some hostile Neighbours dare To force him to reluctant War; Should they with bold, ambitious aim Announce in arms the lawless claim ; Or, tempted by the rich domains Where Fortune smiles and plenty reigns, Should pointed spears and plumed helms Invading threat his peaceful realms, He will assume his martial pride,, With Courage stalking by his side : Then will he sound the loud alarms To call his faithful bands to arms ; Each Peasant then will quit his field, Qlrd on his sword, and poise his shield^ ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. And ev'ry heart with ardor glow T' obey the call and meet the Foe: Then will he find no Bulwarks prove So strong, as is a Nation's Love. Thus as he ev'ry right defends. Just Heaven its fav'rite's cause befriends; Nor will the heroic contest cease, Till the Foe, humbled, sues for peace. Thus ev'ry passion of the mind, As 'tis to good or ill inclined, Advances or recedes in price, And forms a virtue or a vice : Nay, sometimes, as it yields its claim, Is even found to change its name. Thus the fervent, bold desire That does to arduous deeds aspire, Which, in its eager progress warm, Ne'er suffers dangers to alarm ; With Fate and Fortune will contend, To gain some great, momentous end, Is calPd Ambition ; — but applied fo common things, that, on the tide 54 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH Of ev'ry hour we floating see, 'Tis Love of Praise or Vanity : And these, howe'er conceal'd by art, Glow more or less in ev'ry heart; In ev'ry form and shape appear, That Folly or Caprice can wear. Look round, and view the various way Mankind employ to purchase praise ;-— The fulsome Offering to secure, What will not Vanity endure : The sleepless night, the daily toil, The pale lamp and the midnight oil, Are borne or lighted up to gain The flatt'ring tale, th' applausive strain Which Int'rest offers to the vain. 'Tis not his darling Country's cause, Or Freedom's violated Laws ; s Tis not the poor who suffering stand, Scourg'd by Oppression's Iron Hand : 'Tis not the vengeance to arrest Which rankles in the angry breast ; ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 'Tis not to check with words austere The cunning Lie, or taunting* Jeer, That Paulo, of his talents proud, Seeks to address th' assembled croud; At Democratic Feasts to dine, And mingle Speeches with his wine, Or in the social circles play, The self-same game another way : No, 'tis to court the loud Huzza ; To hear the plates and tables rattle, At his success in wordy battle ; Or, sitting round the wintry fire, Where Witlings, and fair Dames admire. Thus have I seen a branchy tree Show its fair form and symmetry, That rises stately from the root ; Though not a bough is deck'd with fruit. — But still some talents are required To make these Orators admir'd ; And with the Hear-hims, common Pride May feel itself quite satisfied. 56 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH* But there are those, and often seen, Who feel a pride in being mean ; And chuckle at the very thought How cheap a stinking Mack'rel's bought ; While others, proud to be profuse, Buy costly Blacking for their Shoes, And give what ten poor folks would dine, To make their daily Buskins shine. —Now, of all those who proud of sinking, And of the Art of never thinking, Sam Jehu was, 'tis said, well known As the best Whip about the Town : His Father had been proud of thriving, But Sam was proud of nought but driving And all his old Dad's Will bestow'd Was nobly spent upon the Road. Whate'er Long-Acre could devise Of Curricles and Tilbury s ; Barouches, Gigs, and Phaetons, With every Machine that runs, Form'd, in their turns, Sam's darling Prid At once their Owner and their Guide. ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 57 To-day he drove his matchless Greys, To-morrow, his fast-trotting Bays ; And, in the way of common Hacks, He had a famous set of Blacks. He knew Horse Language to the Letter, Not Gulliver could speak it better : Could swear, drink drams, and chew a Quid, Proud to do all that Coachmen did, And calmly did his teeth displace, That he might spit with better grace ; Delighted that no one could scan He had been bred a Gentleman. And as he drove his steeds along, This was the burden of his song : When House and Land are gone and spent. Driving will be most excellent : And when all other Fortunes fail, Thank Heaven, I can drive a Mail. But Fate, 'tis known vain Fools to humble. Will sometimes give such fools a tumble. tol. n. h 68 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH, Sam, one fine day, in all his pride, With a fair Doxy by his side, Was trotting on to leave behind The common coursers of the wind, In more than Phaetonic state, For every horse had won a Plate: Nay, out of compliment to Fan, He was dress'd like a Gentleman. Now, to avoid the Coachman's ken Or jeering Quiz of Turnpike-men, He left the common-road, afraid Thus to be seen in Masquerade. Through a long range of Lanes he went On the rough roads and ruts intent, Nor was Miss Fanny satisfied Thus to be jolted side from side ; Though, to beguile the shaded way, She made her Hat with Hawthorns gay. At length Sam saw an awkward Bridge ; Beside him was a stony ridge ; And, in the rocky Vale below, A rapid stream was seen to flow : ENGLISH DANCE OP DEATH. 59 The hurrying Eddies hoarse resound ; Th' affrighted Steeds snort, fling and bound. And threaten to refuse command, E'en from their skilful Master's hand. For the first time, the Charioteer Felt his heart palpitate with Fear. — rHe' cried, what can the Cattle mean? And, as by no one I am seen, I do declare I should be glad That I a tight Postillion had, To check those Leaders, who are mad. cc Thou hast thy Longing/* Death replied ; " I'll quickly mount, and be your guide: The useless reins resign to me : I'll lead you to your Destiny." — He spoke, when strait the wheels upflew, And from his seat the Coachman threw ; Who rolling round, and round and round, Flounc'd in the water — and was drown'd. Poor screaming Fanny, in a tree, Was sav'd by dint of Drapery : m Z 60 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. She, for a while, suspended hung, And to the prickly branches clung. A Cottage gave a week's relief, To cure her scratches and her grief ; And, when she came to Town agen, She sorrow 'd — and turn'd Magdalen. But Vanity will oft extend Beyond our Life's extremest end, Will nod in many a sable plume, And flatter on the marble Tomb. Thus Sam had will'd in solemn guise, The order of his obsequies ; And, punctual to his wishes, they Were marshall'd in this sad array. His gloves and whip, in due parade. Were on his sable coffin laid : The Coffin, on the traces slung Of his Barouche, suspended hung. His four unrivall'd Arab Greys* With trappings deck'd^ his corse conveys; ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. His fav'rite Coachman had the Pride To drive it to the Church-yard side ; And, having done that duty, swore He ne'er would mount a Coach-box more. The Parson who before him rode, Was left the Mare which he bestrode, His Horses, in black cloathing led, Add to the Honours of the dead : His Grooms conduct them, clad in sable% With the young Genii of the Stables ; Who, having sung a solemn stave, Throw all their Whips into the Grave, 62 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH Gaffer ^Ottoman. LIFE is oft liken'd to the Stage, That equal Glass of ev'ry age, Where its true characters are shown To each attentive Looker-on : Where gay and grave, and old and young, Their story tell in prose or song. There varying passion plays its part. And ev'ry tell-tale of the Heart Does, to the list'ning ear, expose The warm delights, the chilling woes, That in the human bosom reign, And form the source of Joy and Pain. — But be it known, we do not mean To enter on the Tragic scene, Where Warriors or where Kings rehearse In solemn strains and pompous verse, ij --. ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. The Battle's glory or the fate That marks the contest of the great ; Or where advent'rous Champions prove The ardour of Heroic Love. Nor do we look to that strange creature, Which has no Prototype in Nature ; That feeds on Fashion, and appears To live by nailing down the Ears : A flimsy, gay, fantastic show Deck'd out in gawdy Furbelow Yclep'd an Opera : — No, we sport Where Nature and her train resort, And the gay Comic Muse pourtrays The common scenes of common days; Where we the mirthful bev'rage quaff) And still grow better while we laugh. Here nat'ral failings are disclos'd, And bold infirmities exposed ; While Virtue, steer'd by Reason's Card, Attains its merited reward. Humour's broad Phrase, its poignant stroke, The moral point, the homely joke, 64 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. By strong and happy contrast tend The mind to cheer, the heart to mend : While in the progress of the scene Th' unlook'd for projects intervene ; And should all other Fancies fail, Hymen or Death may close the tale. Nay, sometimes, as I have seen, forsooth, The well-drawn story ends in both. Old Gaffer Goodman, who had spent His days among the wealds of Kent, A Yeoman hearty, bold and free Had gain'd the age of seventy-three ; And, as some other fools have done. Married a Girl of twenty-one. A Nurse he wanted, and he chose A Maid whose cheeks were like the rose. And with an azure sleepy eye That mark the tender Sympathy, Which could not find a counterpart In Gaffer Goodman's shrivell'd heart. He felt the Sacrifice she made, Which, to his utmost he repaid. ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. Fair Sally's Family were poor, But now they shar'd her Husband's store, On ev'ry Sunday, in a Pew, Sally dress'd out appear'd to view ; And as she smiling pass'd along Was honour'd by the rustic Throng- : For in the Parish it was said That the Old Man his will had made, And left her, as it would appear, At least three hundred pounds a year ; With all his cattle and his flocks, And store of Gold in Iron Box, Which he most strictly watch'd and kept Beneath the Bed whereon he slept. Besides, at Village-fair on May-day, She gave a Prize and play'd the Lady, While the Old Man was pleas'd to share The honour which was shewn her there. But though Dame Nature daily told That she was young, and he was old, VOL. II. j 66 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. And bid her in the mirror true Her own enchanting image view ; Yet howe'er conscious of her beauty, She acted each domestic duty ; Nor ever wish'd abroad to roam, But nurs'd her Hub, and staid at home. With her fair hand so smooth and sleek, She'd stroke his brow and pat his cheek ; And, when the household cares were done, Would read some story full of Fun, Make his fat sides with laughter shake, And keep his drowsy eyes awake ; Or, while she spun, his heart would cheer, With any song he wish'd to hear. But still, with all her sense and truth, Spite of herself, the tender Youth, Whose humble virtues had possest The wishes of her youthful breast, E'er wealth or an awaken'd pride, Had made her Gaffer Goodman's bride, Would sometimes on her fancy steal, And what she wish'd to hide— reveal. ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 67 Nay, at the window as she sat, He would propose his friendly chat; And, as the whirring wheel went round, Old Gaffer only heard the sound, Whose noise the tender converse drown'd. She heard fond Strephon with delight, But still she did not think it right ; And when he tun'd a Shepherd's song, She listen'd, but she thought it wrong. He brought her ribbons from the Fair, She took them, but she would not wear The blushing gift. At length, she said, eatfj tutnefc ptlot AMONG the Cares by which the breast Of anxious mortals is opprest, Are the prophetic doubts that wait Upon their childrens' future fate. Swath'd in the cradle, they sustain The troubles which they can't explain ; And, when escap'd from Infancy Their growing childhood is not free From num'rous evils that attend Life's passage onward to its end. What pains and anguish might we name That daily threat the human Frame ! What various casualties await Life's active or inactive state ! What diff'rent forms Disease assumes, And to what ills our Nature dooms ! 80 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH Sometimes with a swift-winged power, It hurries to the fatal hour; Or, with slow, undermining art, Stills, by degrees, the beating heart, Then comes frail Youth's incautious hour, And Passion's overwhelming power, To fill with tears a parent's eye Or wring his heart with agony : — When no grave counsels will controul Th' impetuous sallies of the soul ; When no kind warnings will impart Discretion to the erring heart ; When fond Affection big with Fear, Foreboding some dark peril near, May call on Death to strike, and save The Stripling in the sheltering Grave. — But should the genial Offspring rise To bless an anxious Parent's eyes, While in the growing form they trace The female charm or manly grace, And view each opening virtue shine That makes a mortal half divine ; ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 5 If Death should point his fatal dart At such a much-lov'd victim's heart, How great would be the Father's woe, What bitter, ceaseless tears would flow Adown the Mother's cheek, while sighs Speak the rent bosom's agonies. But still some comfort waits the doom Of those we follow to the tomb : With awe and solemn step we tread The sacred mansion of the Dead ; And see the holy honours paid When, 'neath the marble they are laid, Who were our heart's delight and pride, And never griev'd us till they died. E'en while th' afflicted spirits mourn, And faithful fondness clasps the urn That marks the spot where Friendship lies, Or Love demands our Obsequies, We can with less'ning grief declare, The dust of those we lov'd is there. While the Cypress shade we weave, The sooth'd affections cease to grieve ; VOL. II. l ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. And when we thus our thoughts employ, Sorrow becomes a solemn Joy. But we've to tell another tale :— O'er the wide Ocean doom'd to sail, Two Maidens fair, in early bloom Found in the deep a wat'ry tomb. In India born, a parent's cares Had sent them in their earliest years, To pass, beneath a milder clime, That doubtful, but important time Of Female Life, which intervenes Between its Childhood and the Teens. Submitted to a Guardian's power, Who, as the sun brings forth the flower, Watch 'd his young Indians to improve With feelings like a Father's love. He, to th' important duty just, FulfiU'd with care the sacred Trust; And taught their early minds to glow With all a Female ought to know. ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 83 The voice was tun'd to aid the Lyre, Each Grace did with the Muse conspire, And their respective powers combin'd T' exalt the form and deck the mind ; While all the Virtues play'd their part, And took possession of the Heart. Thus the fair infant plants, the boast Of Coromandel's distant coast, Foster'd beneath the genial skies That Britain's happy Isle supplies, Grew tall and stately to the sight, In every youthful colour bright ; Nor did the Pride of Western Bowers Excel these Eastern Sister Flowers. At length, the fruits of Friendship's toil W T ere summon'd to their native soil, Prepar'd with every winning grace To meet a parent's fond embrace, Whose hopes were fix'd that they should find The lovely form, the cultur'd mind ; l 2 84 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. And when again, in all their charms, The full-grown maids should fill their arms With feelings rich in ecstasy, They should the Infant Cherubs see, Transform 'd by Time and faithful Care, A mortal Angel's shape to wear. To Albion's shores they bade adieu ; The white Cliffs lessen in their view; And all was Hope, and all was gay, As they pursu'd their wat'ry way. — But — e'er one fleeting moon was past, With clouds the sky was overcast : With fearful force the tempest blows, And wave on wave tumultuous flows: The Sun, as he descends to rest, J ust marks with red the dusky West, Till into darkness he declines, And the whole Heaven to Night resigns No ray of light is seen around, The Moon and Stare in shade are drown d; Thus Time, in its most dreadful Form, Augments the horrors of the Storm, ENGLISH DANCE OP DEATH. 85 As the rude, swelling- surges roll, No Power the Vessel can controul ; She now defies the Steersman's skill, And through the billows drives at will ; The Keel no longer can abide The floods that lash her weary side, And gaping planks no longer brave The force of the resistless wave. — The Sisters, 'mid these dire alarms, Were fainting in each other's arms j Or with loud lamentable cries Told their heart-rending agonies. — The toils of the alarming hour The Crews exhausted strength o'er-power. Some on the shrouds, before, behind, Mount, as it were into the wind ; Some, clinging to the mast in vain Are thrown into the yawning main • Others in haste the boat prepare, The last faint hope in their despair ; When, from the sinking vessel borne, Through the fierce billows, all forlorn 86 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. They see Death sitting at the Helm ; And, as the mountain seas o'erwhelm, Amid the Storm's tremendous roar, One shriek they give — and all is o'er. The Sailor's form'd the storm to brav< And calls the Sea the Seaman's grave : But Beauty sure might hope to sleep Where Graces mourn, and Muses weep And claim, to deck its mournful bier, The fond lament, the flowing tear. — Ill-fated pair, you find a grave Par, far beneath the Stormy Wave, And the loud winds, in boistrous swell, O'er the deep waters sound your Knell. ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 87 CI;e totntimjg; up of tfje Clock TIME has been calPd the Thief of Youth, And so it may with moral Truth : But 'tis alike the Thief of Age, And jogs us on from Stage to Stage: As in its course it passes on, It steals a bit from ev'ry one : Leaving each still the less behind, T' improve his fortune or his mind. To chronicle Time's ample space, We years and centuries embrace : The hours and minutes, as they pass, Are told by Dial, Clock or Glass; But, measuring Time, ah! thoughtless elves, Know that ye measure but yourselves. The Clock that faithful strikes the Hour, Has struck that period from your power : 88 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. Its hand that runs the wonted distance Runs o'er so much of your existence. A Clock then is a wise invention That answers a two-fold Intention : It calls us off from idle pleasures, For Life and Time at once it measures. John Dunn had one; but first of John, 'Tis fit some little should be known: — For he was once a rosy Youth Who came from the Swale side, In Town to serve his 'prenticeship— Of 'Prentices the Pride. For strict and regular was he, More punctual there were none : To ev'ry one he gave his due, But ne'er forgot his own. His Master's Daughter, Judy fair, He view'd with eyes askance, For John had still the Yorkshire nack Of minding the main Chance. ENGLISH DANCE OP DEATH. And lest the Father, rich and stern, The union should prevent ; To tie the sacred Knot by stealth He gain'd the Maid's consent. John's seven years service at an end, The marriage is avow'd. When Dad consents, what can't be chang'd Were full as well allow'd. Of a bad bargain make the best Had been his maxim ever : Whom God and John's good care had join'* He knew no man could sever. For the young pair he takes a house, And Furniture provides ; Beds, tables, chairs, an eight-day Clock, And some few things besides, Within the sound of great Bow Bell, And with the Church in view. John still prefers his own dear Clock — It gave the time so true. VOL. II. m 90 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. As other Clocks are wont to do, It struck but once an hour ; And often he had cause to wish Ma'am's Clock would strike no more. For she, but women all have tongues. And, therefore, let's not flout 'em, What Nature gave, if they mayn't use, They were as well without 'em. So thought good Mrs. Dunn, and oft Let Mr. Dunn to know, Since he'd become so rich and great, Who 'twas that made him so. Man is, 'tis said, a social creature, And must companions find ; In things of brute and lifeless nature, When others prove unkind. Thus when John Dunn, of his Wife's tong Too often bore the shock, The good Man would in silence think — My best Friend is my Clock. ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. At length, with rural notions fir'd The Citizen would live retir'd : That is — to get, as a retreat, A handsome, spacious country seat, Such as would suit his store of wealth, And give both consequence and health. Hoggart and Phillips soon supply A House might catch a Nabob's eye. Lofty the rooms, grounds well laid out, A garden well-wall'd round about, And a clear streamlet full of Trout ; A Lawn, with groves of stately trees, Stables, cow-house, and piggeries ; A dairy in the Gothic taste, Within a fragrant shrubbery plac'd : An Ice-house too the wine to cool, And a Cold -bath that's always full. Around the whole rich fields were seen, All clad in everlasting green. In short, the spot possess'd the charm To be a Villa and a Farm. m 2 92 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH, — Th' Upholsterer in every part Expends the treasures of his art ; Egyptian Stools, and Sofas proud., And Chairs and Lamps th* apartments croud ; With marble slabs and splendid Glasses, Carpets so rich and China Vases : Yet still the fav'rite Clock must come, And click within the Breakfast-room. Unhappy Man— hadst thou read History, As well as the Stock Brokers' Mystery, How dang'rous 'tis, thou wouldst have known, Exclusive Fav'rites thus to own : What caus'd our second Edward's end, Was having Gaveston for a Friend : And who knows what your Clock may do, By some strange accident, to you. The Clock arriv'd, but in such plight, Its Master could not set it riffht • How vex'd he was : — Not know the time, Nor hear each hour the well-known chime ! ENGLISH DANCE OP DEATH. For on the way the rumbling Cart Had shook it in some tender part, Pve sworn, He said, and still I swear it, None but myself shall e'er come near it. — At length set right, with much ado, Again it told the time so true : But what it tells it can't bestow, A solemn truth that all should know : Though old John Dunn, with all his rout About his Clock, ne'er found it out. The Day to wind it up was come, The steps were brought into the room ; When up he mounted, key in hand, But, e'er he could his work command, They totter'd first, then toppled o'er, And down he sinks to rise no more. What follows, 'tis confusion all, Poor Mrs. Dunn is heard to squall, And shares her falling Husband's fall. He felt the Lot of all mankind, He died — and left his Clock behind. 94 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. But e'er it had with tell-tale power, Through one short mouth declar'd the Hour, It struck, to call the widow'd Spouse To wed a junior partner of the House. ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 95 Cfce JFamflp of <$f)tttiten. IN looking through each different state, Wherein Mankind participate, Philosophers can ne'er agree On human Joy or Misery : What's the severest state of Woe, Or greatest pleasure here below. This knotty, subtle point depends On such contrasted views and ends, That how to draw the certain line And with precision nice define, What would imply extreme distress, Or mark the height of happiness, Is not within the narrow reach Of what Philosophy can teach. Horace has said, who was no Fool, As we all know who've been at School, 96 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. That, on whatever project bent, Man is the prey of discontent. Broken with toils, with arms opprest, The Soldier thinks the Merchant blest ; And when the threat'ning Tempests rise, Arm me for war, the Merchant cries : While he, who in the City lives, Sighs for the peace the Country gives; The Country Folk unheard, unknown, Think there's no pleasure but in Town. — Sir Frank pours forth his daily prayer To Heaven, that He may have an Heir. He joys not in his rural reign O'er peasant tribes and large domain ; For nought can please, or cheer his spirit, Since there's no Offspring to inherit : While his near Neighbour Jemmy Guest t Of far inferior means possest, Thinks hourly how to cut and carve, Lest he, and sixteen Bairns should starve. Hence 'tis, we see, both weak and vain In erring mortals to complain ; ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 97 For where 's the man in Life's vast range Who would his whole condition change. Ask one of his estate what share He'd give to purchase him an heir : To answer you, though somewhat loth, He might reply, he wants them both. Then ask the other would he spare Sir Frank a bantling for his heir ; No, not for all his golden store, Though Heaven should send him twenty more. Of all things going, Jemmy Guest Lov'd his dear Wife and Children best; And this he proved since he could claim A Husband's and a Father's name. When He first married, at his door Was seen the dashing coach and four; But when five babes appear'd in view, It dwindled to a coach and two : At length, when other five were able To sit like Branches round his table, VOL. II. N 98 ENGLISH DANCE OF. DEATH. The call of Prudence he obeys, And only sports a one-horse chaise : For Jemmy Guest was always loth Beyond his coat to cut his cloth ; And when he heard the babbling sounds Of full five more, He sold his hounds. He thought he had enough to do, For fifteen mouths to bake and brew ; But, such was his prolific Dame, As Time went on, another came ; And all his thought and all his care Was how to spend and how to spare. Though, still rewarded by the pleasure, With which he view'd his filial Treasure, As each in difPrent charms appears, From one month old to eighteen years, His anxious fears he oft forgot, Of what might be their future Lot. When he beheld their Cherub Faces, Their growing forms, their youthful graces, He envied not the rich and great, Who roll in wealth and live in state ; ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 99 And, as he view'd his num'rous care, He would prefer the pious prayer : That Heav'n would give them daily food — Bless them with health — and make them jrood. One morn at breakfast, as He sat, Attentive to their various chat, Death at the door in form appear'd ; And, as aloft his arm he rear'd, Jemmy began to stir and stare And ask'd the Shape his errand there. He grinn'd a ghastly smile, and said — To follow his old-fashioned trade. To get a pretty little picking Among this brood of human chicken. Jemmy replied — I'll ne'er consent To such a barbarous intent : Touch not, I pray, a single feather, Take none, or take us all together. — Think not, said Death, I'll march away, And let my arrow lose its prey : n 2 100 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. Why, here's this brat so loudly squalling—- Leave him to me — I'll stop his bawling. — Poor little dear, it scarce can walk, And has but just began to talk. ■ — Then there's the Babe in t'other room, Who will not talk for months to come. — If from her Nursling forc'd to part, T 'would break the Angel Mother's heart. Indeed I cannot spare you one, So take us all, or pray be gone. i5ut if you must employ your dart, E'er from this chamber you depart, To me and mine delay the curse, And make your meal upon the Nurse. ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. AN endless Labour it would be, If through Life's vast variety, We were our journey to pursue, And bring each object to the view Which court our notice as we pass, And shew them all as in a Glass. Where is the Canvas would contain The Portraiture of ev'ry pain ; Or whose most extended measure Would give the scene of ev'ry pleasure .? Where is the volume in whose fold* Could, with due order, be enroll'd, Whate'er has pass'd in hours like thine, Or such an humble Life as mine? Direct your footsteps through the field And see what rural Nature yields : 103 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. Upon the Mountain breathe the gale, Or court the Zephyr in the vale. Sit on the Rock's stupendous steep, And view the wonders of the deep ; Or stretch along the sandy shore, And listen as the Billows roar ; Then pluck, with more advent'rous tread, The sea-shell from its briny bed. — Now take your Tablets, and proceed To write what other days may read ; While Science doth her aid impart^ And moral truths flow from the heart : But though the task should be begun, When Nature hails the rising sun, The orb will set, e'er it is done. — Go where the Hedge, in thicken'd row, Offers the flow'rets wild that blow; Which, never nurs'd by cult'ring art, To all, their humble charms impart. They live through Summer's sultry day; Then shed their leaves, and pass away. ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 103 What though their tribes no perfume breathe, Yet still they're seen to form the wreath That doth the auburn ringlets dress Or bosom deck, of Shepherdess, And form a subject for the page Of Nature's work, by Nature's sage. Whate'er on Earth is seen to reign, Whate'er its darksome caves contain ; Whate'er the wond'rous deep unfolds, Or the bright, starry circle holds ; Or high or low, or great or small, Man's Hist'ry comprehends them all. In short, whate'er the Eye can scan, Is, as it were, a part of Man. All Nature, Art, whate'er appears Of their long records, through the years Which have pac'd on since years began, Is but the History of Man. What has been written or been thought, By wisdom or reflection brought, Through the long course of ev'ry age, By each philosopher and sage ; 104 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH, All that's possess'd of ev'ry lore, Or heap'd in the collected store Of Bodleian or Vatican, Gives but the History of Man. The space that he is bound to fill, Is bright with good or dark with ill ; It forms th' uncertain, checquer'd road That leads us to our last abode : But if our Life, as has been said By one who well the subject weigh'd, Is a disease, we may be sure, That Death can be the only cure. Hence the various forms that wait Impatient at Death's rugged gate. But happy, oh thrice happy they Who do not hasten on their way ; Nor wish to go, nor strive to stay. But with a steady patience bear Th* allotted weight of human care ; And grateful to benignant Heaven For all the frequent good that's given. ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. Calmly behold th' approaching doom, Nor dread the confines of the Tomb, — But wait till Death says, all is o'er. Nor touch the Knocker at his Door. vol. II. o 106 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. €i)e iFire* AMONG the Perils that attend Our life,, and oft produce its end, The Elements, each passing hour, Display their all-alarming power. — Fate waves his spear, th' infected air Fills wide-spread regions with despair ; And Pestilence, with deadly breath, Makes them one dismal scene of death. — He strikes his foot, the groaning ground Strait trembles in the deep profound ; Opes wide its vast and horrid womb, And to whole cities yields a tomb. — The Ocean to his will conforms, And rolls beneath the angry storms ; In vain the Steersman rules the Helm, And waves the crouded Ship o'erwhelm. ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. — He lights his torch, the fatal fire Spreads far and near with ruin dire ; And Palaces and Temples lie A scene of splendid Misery. No Summons left t' awake our care, Against the mischief to prepare ; As the Hawk pounces on its prey, These sudden evils ne'er betray Their fell approach, but strike the blow And leave the victims to their woe. War, note of preparation gives, And threatens e'er the foe arrives. The Son of Mars, amid th' alarms Of contest fierce and clashing arms, Well knows he may be doom'd to feel The wounding force of hostile steel; Nay, half expects that he may fall By bloody sword or flying ball : But still his prowess may sustain His life on the embattled plain, o 2 108 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. And He may rest, when all is done, Beneath the Laurels he has won. When Plenty o'er the blighted fields No more her ready sickle wields ; When meadows lose their verdure green, Nor fruitage on the bough is seen ; When Dearth in meagre form appears, We ope the hoards of former years ; And in our straiten'd state maintain Submission firm, till Ceres reign, In its full bounty, smiles again. The Robber may our house despoil By daring theft or crafty toil ; But though he makes our goods his prey, He cannot bear the House away : Takes what he can — but, coarsely kind, What he can't take, he leaves behind. Though 'tis a mischief all would shun, We may be robb'd, but not undone. — But when our house, or great or small, Whate'er it be, contains our all ; ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. A Conflagration's rapid power May prove our ruin in an hour. When we are robb'd we know the worst ; But Fire's an evil most accurst: Where it begins we may discover, But who can tell when 'twill be over. Though safe we think our treasure lies, And well secur'd from hands and eyes : The Flames may come, and, to our cost, It may be melted down and lost. Bolts, and Bars, and Barricadoes, May disappoint midnight Bravadoes; But what can keep, we would enquire, A House from being set on Fire : Nay, should it be of Lath and Plaster, Nought could arrest the sad disaster ; And, if its roof be made of Thatch, They must be quick who lift the Latch, Such was the case, as tells the tale, In Hernford's distant shady vale. — Joe Jenkins there free from alarm, Rented a small but fruitful Farm : 110 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. Where he work'd hard, but liv'd content, And never fail'd to pay his rent. He had a wife and children three, Maintain'd by cheerful Industry; And by the names they both were known Of honest Joe and smiling J oan. But she was good as she was fair, And skill'd in ev'ry household care ; Nor were three finer bantlings seen, J Mong those who play'd upon the Green. One evening in the month of May, When all was blooming, sweet and gay, As Joan wound, on the turning reel, The labours of the spinning wheel, She listened to the Blackbird's song, Who tun'd his notes the Groves among ; And carroll'd with her voice so shrill Of black-ey'd Sue and constant Will. At length Joe's daily labour o'er, They eat their supper at the door, And spar'd a morsel to the poor ; ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. HI A part they never fail'd to give, Of what Heav'n pleas'd they should receive ; And, having bent in grateful prayer, To him who makes the good their care, Happy and in each other blest The faithful pair retir'd to rest, In hope to wake as free from sorrow, When the Sun shone upon to-morrow: But e'er the Sun in splendour rose They 'rose to view a scene of woes. For, e'er the midnight hour was past, They woke, and thought that hour their last. Around appear'd the blazing flames ; The Mother, with incessant screams, And almost mad from her alarms, Seizing the children in her arms, Fled from her home and sat her down Beside the Brook upon a stone. While Joe, and many a neighbour's care, Brought all the Flames were found to spare. — The Villagers ran to and fro To save what could be sav'd for Joe ; 112 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. And women, screaming- with affright, Encreas'd the horrors of the night. The slumb'ring sheep by fear made bold, Tumultuous grew and forc'd the fold ; And bellowing loud, the herds were seen Scouring in fury o'er the Green. Among the rest a Shape appear'd : In either hand a torch he rear 'd, And seem'd, as he was stalking on, Proud of the mischief he had done. The Sexton said, Death was his name : He knew him well, and that he came From church-yard nigh ; nay, that the Bell Had of itself rung out a Knell. For though, as was his foul intent, They did no Christian's end lament, Yet it was seen Death had been there, As Joe's six pigs and founder'd mare Lay dead in stable and in sty, The work of the Incendiary, ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 113 The House was down, of flames the prey ; And, as the smoking ruins lay, J oe wrung his hands and wip'd his eye. And thus talk'd o'er his destiny. fc 'Twas in that House that I was born, (C And Comfort smiPd but yester-mom ; " But now I've neither house nor home, ce Nor what to do in time to come, tc I cannot tell ; nor do I see As free in Body as in Mind, — Thus did she train to ev'ry Grace Her manly Youth and martial Race; While Phidias, in his walks might meet Forms fit for Gods in ev'ry Street; And many a Phoebus might be seen Or in the Cirque or on the Green, ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 139 While rival Venuses display'd Their Beauties, dancing in the shade. Our Native Artist whose acclaim Will last while Art can give a Name, To strike by contrast, boldly placed Near the Greek Form, a figure graced With all the cumbrous folds of Plaster, In shape of modern Dancing Master ; Nor could the purest power of Art, With a more heightening force impart The difference 'tween the Grace that's caught, By fine examples daily taught, Which ev'ry hour attracts the eye In Motion and in Symmetry ; And that which Catgut and the Wire With Beau-kit's Bravos can inspire ; Those smirking Gestures which appear To've been transmitted through the Ear, And when the Pidlers cease to play, Vanish at once, and pass away, s 2 140 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. Thus in the modern School we trace To Fashion what is Air and Grace. All that the changeful Phantom says, Or right or wrong in these fine days, Each Sex implicitly obeys: Hence 'tis, we see, gay folks appear As Fancy changes, through the year. If some fair Duchess, fat and frowsy, Striving to lose the looking blowzy, Lessens the Circle of her waist By Corsets stiff and tightly lac'd ; Does all her flowing ringlets check, That threat to amplify her neck ; Throws to the air her lofty bonnet, And places plumes of Feathers on it; Thus losing, in Dame Nature's spite, Her real breadth, by artful height, She does no more than is her duty ; For 'tis the Policy of Beauty, To hide defects, and to hold forth The charms which are of native growth. ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 141 — But then come those whose inclination Is to be ever in the Fashion ; And though they be but skin and bone, They must conform to what's the Ton. Who, tall enough to make folks stare As Female Giants at a Fair, Still must compress their thin waists smaller, And make their gawky figures taller. Nature and Reason both oppose it, But then the great fat Duchess does it. If Lord or Knight, or dashing 'Squire, Does with a noble zeal aspire, Since Chivalry is at a stand, To take the Lead with Four-in-hand ; To dress, to swear, to spit, to rail Like high-bred Drivers of the Mail ; Your Office Clerk and dashing Cit Will show their Taste, and prove their wit, By Banging up and Banging down In Gigs and Tillb'ries round the Town ; 142 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. Rap out an Oath, or stylish word, Not like a Coachman — but a Lord. 'Tis not alone in dress or driving That Fashion's cutting- or contriving Manners that form the Grace of Life Or in the Daughter or the Wife, From that o'erflowing source receive. The Charms its fangled notions give. —Fair C/elia had some girlish Faults • But then — How Caelia stepp'd a Waltz ! And in that Season, it is known Waltzing was everywhere the Ton. Miss Caelia, though a sickly Maid, No friendly counsels could persuade To stay at Home, when Fashion's call Summon'd the Damsel to a Ball : From Party, Opera or Play, She might be coax'd to keep away ; But she possess'd the high renown, Of the most pleasing Dancer known ; ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 1 Besides she hop'd, her graceful Charms, Would Waltz her to a Husband's Arms. Nor the grave Doctor's daily threat, Nor a fond Mother's keen regret, Nor Hectic Cough, that oft oppress'd With strong convulse, her heaving breast, Could when th' enchanting fiddle mov'd, " Keep her from that display she lov'd, / And which each eye that saw approv'd. — One vernal morn, with great delight She practis'd for th' approaching night. Some new-invented Step she paces, — The Teacher play'd off his Grimaces ; And while he boasted to impart Some added Beauties of his Art, She sinks, she faints, she pants for breath : Alas! it was the Waltz of Death/' 144 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. jftatewal Ceribetness, WHAT with such Power the heart can move As a young, doting Mother's Love ! While gazing on her infant Care, The Passion of her Soul is there. When the Babe hangs upon the Breast With what a rapture He's carest! If, in that inexpressive Hour, The Master of Imperial Power Should through each tempting region range, And offer all for the Exchange, Her eyes she'd rivet on his charms, And clasp him closer in her arms. — The Mother's fondness for her child Is Nature pure and undefiTd ; ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. Nor mix'd as other passions are With Fancy's glow or sordid care ; Has Joys to Mothers only known, And is, in truth, itself alone. When the sweet Boy, with growing charm Disdains the tender Nurse's arm, And as strength guides his better speed, New J oys and other cares succeed. Learning now points the glimm'ring way, And lights him with its feeble ray : At length its warmer beams express The bloom of future fruitfulness. Then Reason will begin to stir The embryo seeds of Character, And the fond parent looks to scan The virtues of the future man. — Next, boyish feats and active strife Add new varieties to life. From strict restraint and thraldom free, He dares to climb the branchy tree ; VOL. II. t 146 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. Oe'r many an headland course to run, Nor fears the heats of sultry sun : Or, on the frozen surface bold, Breasts the keen Winter's piercing cold O'er thorny hedge is seen to bound And light on the uncertain ground ; Or yet, untaught by due controul, Drives the rough poney to the Goal; Seeks the dark mazes of the wood, Or plunges in the running flood. Thus playing with a Mother's fear, Thus calling forth the secret tear, And often smiling at the pain That fond Affection cannot feiffn. The fair Matilda married young, And, while the song of Joy she sung, While 'twas her envied Lot to prove The sweetest bliss of wedded Love, Relentless Death prepared his dart, And pierc'd the faithful Husband's heart ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 147 But though a widow thus bereft, Indulgent Heaven one comfort left, To help her the sad Loss to bear, And save her sorrow from despair. A Babe in Beauty's infant grace, The Father smiling in his face, Would check the tear that strove to flow And be the solace of her woe, Would her pale, saddened face beguile And 'midst its gloom awake a smile. When fond remembrance feign would dwell On that dear form she lov'd so well : She in th' unconscious Babe could view The Offspring' and the Father too. The widow and the mother prov'd With what a constancy she lov'd ; Resolv'd to dedicate her days, Not to the idle, empty praise Of the gay world's incessant prate, pr pleasures that on Fortune wait, 148 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. But her maternal cares to ply, Departed Love's sad Legacy ; She hop'd to rear a solid fame On Duties which her child would claim. Beauty was her's, and ev'ry charm That doth the tender bosom warm : And though her Lilies grew more pale, And though her roseate blushes fail, Yet Youth and Time were waiting there, Grief's early inroads to repair. The winning Look, the graceful mien Were still with Admiration seen • Still did th' harmonious voice impart The blended sense of mind and heart : Of riches she was left a store, Her purse was full, nay, running o'er, — Nor did her bounteous hand refrain, Nor could a chilling thought restrain The gift that goodness loves to grant, To all who weep and all who want. ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 149 Thus none who knew her but approv'd, And some the wddow'd charmer lov'd. —But when she heard of Hymen's name, When Cupid wav'd the proffer'd flame ; When Lovers hop'd she would be won,. She pointed to her Darling- Son : Your suits are all in vain, she said ; } No Eloquence will e'er dissuade £ My purpose now so firmly made. The little, playful Boy you see, Is Cupid, Hymen, all to me. Their Altar I shall ne'er attend, Till Heaven, my wishes to befriend.. Gives me to view my Edward there. My only hope, my darling- care ; There, bound by Hymen's chaste decree, To one who thinks and loves like me. — 'Twas thus she liv'd, while Edward crew To all his Mother's wishes true. But still the dangers that belay The passage of Life's early day ; 150 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. Would often cause her eyes to weep. And discompose the hours of sleep ; While many a fearful omen crept Across her Fancy when she slept. Edward,, a noble Boy, had gain'd Full fourteen years,, which, when obtain'd, The parent weighs,, with equal scales, His future fate, — and Hope prevails, i — 'Twas when, in Summer's sultry hour, Fierce Sirius gleam'd with ardent power, That the Youth sought the cooling flood Beside the verdure of a wood ; But, while he cleav'd the liquid way, His limbs no longer would obey. He shriek'd, the woodman sought the wave, And plung'd, the sinking form to save, From what appear'd a watry grave. His voice alarm'd the peasants near, And, hast'ning on the wings of fear They reach the stately Hall, nor wait To ask admission at the gate ; ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 151 While cries throughout the walls resound, f< Our young, our darling Master's drown'd." The Servants fly they scarce know where; The tidings reach Matilda's ear : She starts, — then hurries to the wood — ■ Aghast, upon the bank she stood, While from the pool, with looks forlorn, Her senseless Edward's form is borne. She sinks, weigh'd down by her alarms ; And Death receives her in his arms. —The unconscious Youth now opes his eyes. — The Son survives, — the Mother dies.— 152 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. IS there a thing in Art or Nature, A Bird or Beast, or Human Creature, Which in Death's business is not made An Engine to promote his trade ? Look where you will, go where you can, You see the final foe of Man. Lions and Tygers, Dogs and Cats, The pois'nous Asp, the stinging Gnats, The Cart that rolls, the Coach that flies, Tandems and Gigs and Tilburies; The Ship that dares the dang'rous deep, The Boat that doth the river sweep ; The Eastern wind, the sudden Squall, The gliding Skait, the whirling Ball, All in their various ways supply The means by which frail man may die. ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. The potent drug, the boasted pill, The very hope of health, may kill : E'en Justice takes a fatal part, And with a Lawsuit breaks a heart. In the arm'd field and War's affray, Death takes his thousands in a day ; While, in the alley and the street, The Gin-Shop deals the deadly treat, And Fate prepares the winding-sheet. How many a scaffold's giddy height Hurls to the shades of endless night; While to the Lazaretto's shed Are borne the dying and the dead. The dagger's blade, the leaden bullet, And hempen string around the gullet, The Pugilist's well-levell'd joint, Or the bare bodkin's humble point, These, and a thousand more, the eye Can with its daily glance descry In the dread Spectre's Armoury : VOL. II. 154 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. He can to all his purpose fit Or with a spear or with a spit. But it is not the weapon's force, The sudden stroke or furious course Death always chuses to assume. To usher mortals to the tomb : He'll lay aside the poison'd cup, Which, at one certain, hasty sup, He often drinks Life's current up ; And will our nature undermine E'en on the food on which we dine ; Nay, with slow, pois'nous power, controul The operations of the bowl ; Season the Glutton's daily feast, And fat him as we fat a beast ; Smile grimly, o'er each rioh repast, Till the gorg'd Corm'rant bursts at last. One day, Death, tempted by the scent, Into Lord Ort'lan's Kitchen went ; Well-pleas'd he views the various show Of Fricasee and Fricandeau, ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 155 Of ev'ry Flesh, and Fowl and Fish, Prepar'd to grace each silver dish, Of roast and boil'd, of Grill and Stew, Turtle and Ven'son and Ragout : And, as he with attention pauses At saucepans strong with fine-drawn Sauces, His mischief was quite charm'd to see The poison of the Chemistry : But while he made his purpose known To add a little of his own, The Cook, who was a man of might, And o'er his Kitchen claim'd a right, Determin'd to attack the Sprite. His right-hand did a Carver wield, A pot-lid serv'd him for a shield : Begone — he cried, or, with this point. I'll dislocate you joint from joint, And I declare it, by my troth, I'll take your bones and make them broth. — Death seiz'd the Roaster in his ire, As it was turning at the Fire ; u 2 156 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. And fiercely, without more ado, He ran the Cook quite through and through. There, He exclaim'd, you now are fitted ; — With your own Turkey you are spitted ; And of that Paunch I shall prepare An Entremet for this day's fare. The Clock struck Seven. — it was the hour When my Lord us'd to feel the power That bred a craving near his heart For Courses two, and a Desert. He rung his Bell, — " Pray what's the riot ? " Serve up the Dinner, and be quiet." " Sad news to tell," the Butler said, c ' But poor Morel the Cook is dead : <( Struck, somehow, with I know not what, " He sunk at once, and went to pot; (i He utter'd one tremendous groan, cc And fell as dead as any stone. " The down-fall was with horrid clatter Cl Of pot and dish, of pan and platter : ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 157 * c The Kitchen-maids were all aghast, " And all forgot rny Lord's repast ; ft Nay, whether stew'd, or roast or boil'd, " I fear that ev'ry dish is spoil'd; {C For such an Uproar ne'er was seen, " In Kitchen where I've ever been." " Get what you can/' my Lord replies, t( For I must live, whoever dies : " Hang the fat gormandising sinner " For dying, — till he had dress' d the dinner." 158 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. AMBITION is a noble flame, But then how various is its aim : For look through Life, or great or small, From Council Board to humble Stall, It is a Passion felt by all. When the brave Soldier seeks the wreath Through hostile realms 'mid blood and death ; When Statesmen's plotting arts combine To raise to Power the gilded shrine ; When Eloquence pursues the fame That waits upon a Tully's name ; When Poetry invents the verse For future ages to rehearse, When deep Philosophers display To Science many an added ray ; ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH, Whatever honour they attain, It is Ambition leads the train. In other scenes the Passion glows It's tide in other Channels flows, As it is seen to be allied To all the forms assum'd by Pride, — In Fashion's course to take the Ton, When to leave off and when put on ; What plumes should nod upon the brow, What flounces deck the dress below ; Whether the foot should just appear, Or the Robe leave the Ancle bare ; How far the bosom should display Its Beauty to the glaring day ; Whether with upright gait to stalk Or with a bending grace to walk ; In short to give the varying rules To the Ton's all-obedient fools, Is an Ambition to be found In the world's gay and giddy round, 160 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. Thus Lady Gew-gaw feels a pride To be the youthful Female's guide. As Bond Street's range she's seen to grace. By Blood-Bays drawn in stately pace, I give, she cries, the ev'ry air To all the Misses tramping there. Among the Forms this passion takes, Of high-born men it Coachmen makes ; And bids the Heir of wealth assume The low-wrought semblance of a Groom. Thus, while we mark the high-flown dream, There is a Bathos in the scheme. While we the power of rising view, We see the art of sinking too. Hence while one Noble shall appear To be the nation's Charioteer, Others of equal rank and birth, Will mix with common sons of earth ; Nor think they of the wheels of State, But how to drive through Hyde Park gate, ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. And, on a Sunday in the Spring, To play Jehu, and be the Thing, The Chief of Macedon unfurl'd His Standard o'er a conquer'd world • But, having not enough to do, He ask'd another world or two ; For, form'd of such ambitious stuff, He thought one world was not enough. But in the midst of all his power, He sought to pass a Leisure hour With a Philosopher of Greece, Well known as one Diogenes ; And here he found a surly Elf Full as ambitious as himself: Within the mind his haughty pride Was full as long, as broad and wide ; But the same Spirit, strange to tell, Confin'd him to a narrow Cell, Nor sufFer'd him to push a quarrel Beyond the limits of his barrel. VOL. II. x 162 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. Ne'er did the Conq'ror whose name Is graven on the rock of Fame, E'er feel more pride at what he'd done E'en though the world were looking on., Than the rude Cynic at the rub He gave the Victor from the Tub. But if the Muse should turn her Car A.nd eastward drive of Temple Bar, Then onward, in due order range Or to the Bank or the Exchange, Ambition will be found possesst Of various forms as in the West. But Money there gives all the lire : — 'Tis Wealth to which they all aspire. If Honour shares the anxious mind, 'Tis Honour that's with Wealth combin'd • The splendor of a titled Mayor, Or power of a Director's Chair. But some will, now or then, launch forth Before their time, to prove their worth ; ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 163 Who have the Ambition to appear More wealthy than in fact they are ; Or , in their pride, to shew their taste, Will idly run themselves to waste. Jack Muslin understood his trade, And such a Fortune might have made. As was well suited to his station, With a good Cheapside Reputation, Had he resolv'd to toil and strive On to the Age of Forty-five : But Jack had some how got the itch To be reputed growing rich ; And thought too, while yet in his vigour, It was the time to make a figure : Thus his ambition run the rig To have a well-bred Horse and Gig ; While Madam thought it might prepare The way to have a Chaise and Pair. — Thus 'twas not many weeks before, From time to time, at Warehouse door, x 2 164 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. The Horse and Gig the Neighbours spy, And wonder at the Luxury. — No longer now it was Jack's boast What this thing fetch'd — what that thing cost How fair his trade, how few his crosses, And how his Gains surpass'd his Losses. — He now declares, and stakes his word, He gave the go-by to a Lord ; And that He'd driven to a stand Sir Harry, with his Four-in-hand. So fine his Horse, and such his power, He could trot fourteen miles an hour; And then he'd wager, play or pay, To go to Brighton in a day. — Ma'am Muslin, also, ceas'd to tell To whom their various goods they sell, Or boast their windows' rich supply \ To tempt the. wish, to catch the eye r Of the vast throng of passers by. ' She simper'd now, and would declare How sweet to breathe the Windsor air ; ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 165 That the Princesses she had seen. And humbly curtsied to the Queen: While Epsom, Egham, Ascott Races Were such delightful, charming Places. Thus Folly grew, and soon the Shop,, With all its gains, began to drop : For Trade, as known to common sense, Can never thrive by negligence. When Jack appear'd, with shaking head, The neighbours to each other said, — sc Aye, there He goes, — but 'tis so fast, " His Horse and Gig will never last." And it pleas'd Fate, as we shall see, Soon to fulfill the Prophecy ; Though not exactly in the way That Prudence threat' ned every day. One morning Jack, in all his pride, Went out with Madam by his side^ When, as they drove down Shooter's Hill, Death grac'd a mile-stone, squat and still. 166 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. Th' affrighted Horse now plung'd, now flew : Th' unequal reins then snapp'd in two : Jack was thrown back and tumbled o'er, Groan'd for a while, then breath'd no more : While Madam, jumping from the side, Fell at the Spectre's feet, and died. — As poor Jack's credit 'gan to fail him. And without Children to bewail him, His Friends did not that Fate regret, Which sav'd his name from the Gazette; For, had he liv'd, he would have found the Art To turn his Gig into a Bankrupt Cart. ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 167 €j)e Mausoleum, " NO, No," — Sir Gabriel Giltspur said, " No, not a Doit till I am dead. e( Not one, my Girl, till I am sent " To the old, solemn Tenement, " Where, in due state and order, lie " The ancient Giltspur Ancestry. " And if Lord Edward loves you true, cc As all young men will say they do, " He will with tender patience wait " Till I am borne through yonder gate. (C Old as I am, 'twill not be long ' ( Before Time chaunts my fun'ral song ; " And I have told you, o'er and o'er, " f No Fortune, 'till I am no more. " You, Lissy, are my only Heir, " And little know the anxious care 168 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. " With which I've shap'd your future life " Whether a Maiden or a Wife ; " How strait I've drawn the legal line " To keep my wealth unalter'd thine ; " To guard thy Love from lavish doing, c: Nor let a Spendthrift prove thy ruin. ff No Lord shall thy fair Dowry claim " Unless he takes the Giltspur name : " A name, for many a cent'ry past moment, stepp'd before, And quickly op'd the creaking Door, The threshold pass'd, the Door was clos'd And there Sir Giltspur soon repos'd ; — - There his remains in silence lie, With all his boasted Ancestry. " Let us," Melissa gravely said, " Turn from these Dirges of the Dead ! " — The Carriage waits,- Lord Edward " come, r- ,f And we will go, and weep at Home.*' ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 173 BELINDA, what few Women prove, Was a Philosopher in Love : She saw that, in the world, the Passion Was something like a dress in fashion ; Not made for any lasting uses, But to put on as Fancy chuses ; And to put off with equal ease As the prevailing whimsies please. Fondness and Rapture, and all that W ere words employ'd in common chat, Which did no solid meaning bear, But told to ev'ry list'ning fair, Who chose to hear what Foplings say And court the Flattery of the day; Which, 'ere 'tis spoke, has ta'en its flight, And never lasts from noon till night : 174 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. While for that self-same thing call'd Lom What do its best professors prove, But that its Hopes, and Fears, and Sighs, Are Phantoms or Non-Entities ; And, in the wise man's volume found, As nought but an unmeaning sound. Thus would the fair Belinda reason, As she denied that it was treason For Females to employ their mind On subjects of an higher kind. Authors who on those subjects wrote, She oft had studied and could quote. She knew grave men had oft disputed, Though none appear'd to be confuted ; As none had e'er presum'd to prove Where is the real seat of Love. Some did the fine opinion start, That it took place within the Heart ; Others, the mark for Cupid's Quiver, Would boldly argue was the Liver ; ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. But still the best could only doubt,, As none of them had found it out. Thus, as she thought, she us'd to flout it, And look'd to find a Mate without it ; To go with Hymen to the Altar, But threatning Cupid with a Halter, If the insulting Urchin dare To make his sly appearance there. But still she never faiPd to own It was not good to live alone : That Nature had by certain Laws, Of which she well could trace the cause, To carry on the scheme of Life, Ordain'd the tie of Man and Wife ; And Wife she was resolv'd to be, When, grac'd with stern fidelity And manly virtue she could find A Suitor fashion 'd to her mind; Whose Thoughts obey'd the moral sense, Whose heart possess'd Benevolence; But whose Philosophy would prove Superior to the Syren Love. 176L ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH, He might a tender Father be A And deal forth deeds of Charity; In the strait Line of Duty move, But, never, never be in Love. Belinda was both rich and fair, Of hoarded Wealth the only Heir ; And with such precious virtues fraught, No wonder she was fondly sought By many, anxious to receive The Happiness which she could give. A Colonel for her Favour sued, A Lawyer too the Maiden woo'd; A Parson hop'd the Prize to get, While a proud, well-bred Baronet, Who many a year had pass'd his heigh-day Wish'd much to make the Miss a Lady ; A Quaker likewise came to try His Plainness and Simplicity : He knew she was a Girl of Whim, And thought that she might fancy him. A Doctor also join'd the Tribe, And he had ventur'd to prescribe ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. Something that might his Patient suit, A Licence, and a Ring to boot. Belinda, all in silence heard, As each his diff'rent claim preferr'd : No look or word or smile had given The Hope of matrimonial Heav'n : The Lady's Philosophic sense Had not felt any Preference ; And, on revolving many a scheme By which to wake and fix esteem, She thought it might be better done By personal Comparison. Hence she resolv'd to bring them all Before her, in her spacious Hall, And, to th' assembled groupe, relate Her notions of the Nuptial State ; When each, as it might best beseem, Would gravely treat the solemn Theme ; And, in the others presence, tell The points in which each might excel. VOL. II. z 178 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. — The plan once form'd, her resolution Brought it to instant execution. The Parties met, th' important Fair With grave demeanour, took the Chair, And to the wond'ring Folk address'd The secret Counsels of her Breast. " The reason why I call'd you here, " My worthy Friends, will soon appear ; e Careless antr t&e Careful. ASK the Doctor, whose renown His skill has spread throughout the Town> Whose rolling Chariot's daily seen From Temple Bar to Lisson Green; Yes, ask him, if you know him well, And He the real Truth will tell, What's the complaint or the Disease That brings the largest heap of Fees : He'll tell you Folly is the Mine That feeds the Sons of Medicine. Intemperance, in whatever way It doth its various forms display, Whether, in Bacchanalian Hours, It overcomes the Reas'ning Powers; Or, gloting o'er the daily Feast, The Glutton sinks into the Beast ; ENGLISH DANCE OP DEATH. Whene'er it doth desire inflame, 'Tis Folly by another name. When sage Discretion's laid aside, That Passion may be gratified, We may forebode the coming ill That calls for Potion or for Pill. Is there a form in which excess Can minister to Happiness ? No, 'tis, alas, a source of pain, Of pale Disease, and all its train. If the repeated draughts you seek Which burn the palm and flush the cheek ; If the too frequent Banquets press The Stomach with their Lusciousness ; — If, sh uning Nature, you invite Whate'er the pamper'd appetite Demands to gratify the taste, You'll quickly bring your health to waste. If, bred in Lux'ry's various schools, You mock at Nature's simple Rules, — Prepare the Fees ; — for, soon or late The Galens will assail your gate. 206 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. It is the Folly which opposes Wise Nature's way that calls for Doses : The Doctors would give up their System As gainless, did not Fools assist 'em. — Nature and Prudence, and Discretion Are doubtless of the same Profession ; Their general object is the same ; They differ little but in name ; While Folly's ever seen to be A constant foe to all the three. — Whate'er may be the course of Life, Whether it leads to peace or strife ; — Its way all safe or fill'd with snares, With pleasures gay or sad with cares Whether 'tis poverty or wealth, Or sickness pale or rosy health ; By Reason sage we shall be blam'd, If of those powers so lately nam'd, We do not ask continual aid, Or old or young, or man or maid : Whate'er our Rank or our Profession, Nature and Prudence, and Discretion, ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. Or in our station or our frame, Should in their influence be the same. Experience, in her ample school, Cannot provide a better rule ; Yet we're too apt to play the fool. — Howe'er, it is not to the great, To those who live in Wealth and State, Or bustle in the busy strife That marks the active scenes of Life, To whom my Moral I display ; But to the thoughtless and the gay : The wholesome subject pays its duty To giddy Youth and careless Beauty. Miss Mary, and her sister Sophy, Were seen to bear the envied Trophy Which Beauty's Queen, 'tis said, confers On certain favourites of hers : Nor will it, sure, be thought untrue That this the conscious Ladies knew : 'Twas nat'ral, therefore, the desire To go where gazing eyes admire : 208 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. One Evening then, at Pleasure's call, They brought their Graces to a Ball : What Envy the fair Nymphs excited, How oft to dance they were invited, What admiration was bestow'd, What Love-sick Beaux around them bow'd, Are things the humble verse will leave For any Fancy to conceive • And Fancy may suppose, the night Gave a succession of Delight. But Pleasure's season must be o'er. And when the Band was heard no more, The Sisters sat them down to cool Their heated Forms and play the fool. They laughed at those who spoke their fright, As the loud Storm disturb'd the niffht, And Quizz'd the Carefuls as they bawl For Cloak and Fur and wrapping Shawl. — Their Coach was calPd, it was not come : " Ne'er mind," they said, " we're so near " home; ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 209 ce And it will be delightful Fun, st In such a night to have a run. " Come, Major, give us either arm, " We can skip on and take no harm : " Besides, your fierce cock'd Hat and Feather " Will, surely, save us from the weather. u The Care of such a gallant Fellow " Is better far than an Umbrella/' — They saw a Lanthern dance before To guide them onward to their door, But knew not who the Lantern bore. 'Twas Death, alas, who lit them home ; And the Fool's Frolic seal'd their doom, VOL. II. D D 210 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. €f)e Haiti otoeii!}r0ton. IT is not easy to conceive, That social Law should e'er deceive ; That what for our protection's made Should prove a pettifogging trade. Form'd on maxims just and true, Bearing Man's happiness in view, And in the clear distinction strong Of what is right and what is wrong; Yet it is made our lives to fill With sad varieties of ill ; And thus the most opprobrious fame Attends upon the Attorney's name. — Nay, these Professors seem asham'd To have their legal title nam'd : Unless my observation errs They're all become Solicitors, ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. A change that's now assum'd, we see, By all of the Fraternity. If they're oblig'd to advertise In the News-paper Diaries, 5 Tis now the Fashion to refer To such a one — Solicitor, Ask an Attorney his Address, He will no more the name confess, And on his printed Card is seen Solicitor — in Street, or Inn, Though he had never got so high As one fat Suit in Chancery. — Unless the daily Prints deceive Attornies must for ever live; At least, no Paragraph supplies Th' account that an Attorney dies : Tis the Solicitors alone Whom they with deathly notice own. — But still distinction must be made Between the Classes of the Trade: d d 2 212 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. For he who guides the wordy war That marks the Contests of the Bar, Where we oft hear superior sense Cloth'd in the brightest Eloquence, Must not partake the common feelings That wait upon th' Attornies' dealings. They are a class in ev'ry Nation Who live alone by Litigation ; Who oft grow rich by working strife. And fatten on the Ills of Life. Whether 'tis Shakespeare, or Moliere, Johnson or Congreve, or Voltaire, Whatever Country's comic Stage Does the dramatic mind engage, Th' Attorney with degraded mien Appears to turpify the scene. Law in itself is just and good When it is practised as it should. And Lawgivers can ne'er intend What Justice never can defend. ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. It therefore, very strange appears, That Clients should, for twenty years, With all appliances to boot, Be wading through a Chancery Suit; And, after twenty years are run, May gain their Suits, and be undone. — Still there are Men whese names rank high, Lawyers who may reproach defy, There's Redesd ale and there's Rom illy Redesdale, who snatches from the claw Of the vile Harpies of the Law, The Debtor in his hopeless state, And opens wide the Prison gate: While Romilly, though oft in vain, Strives to correct the low Chicane That, by the Pettifogger's art, Keeps Law and Justice far apart. But still it is the Pleader's fate His reasonings to accomodate Not always to his own Belief, But to the Attorney's dubious Brief. 214 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. And though his knowledge may cry fye o'nt, He turns and twists it for his Client ; Nor will his Practice think it treason, To make the worse the better reason. Some Writer of our age and nation Has made the following observation : That Annals old the time display, When Priests bore universal sway ; And nought was seen but spire and bower, The seats of their o'er-ruling power. But now the Lawyers seem to ride In a new form of power and pride. Some, though the numbers are not great, Are seen to rise to rank and state ; While many, as it were by stealth, Creep on to figure and to wealth ; Not as by chance, now here now there, They're known and noted every where. — As you pass through a country town, Ask, who doth the best mansion own ; You're told 'tis Lawyer such a one. ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. And the reply, rough and uncivil., May, perhaps, wish him with the Devil. — But still no groundless wrong is meant. I reason not with foul intent, I plead the general Assent : On those opinions rests the tale Which universally prevail. Lawyers, like other men, are made, 'Tis not their nature I upbraid ; No, — 'tis the nature of their trade, Which feuds create and quarrels bless, And whose chief dealing is distress. When their curs' d offices they quit, When out of sight of Bill or Writ; When they think not of Scire Facias, Nor Bailiff waits to take a Capias, Like men, in other occupations, They do the duties of their stations, And pass through Life with equal grace : Lawyer's not written in their face. — I wish 'twere otherwise, that Law Were practis'd without Quirk or Flaw ; 216 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. But while these Quirks and Flaws remain The Practice must reproach sustain. I've somewhere read, though I've forgot The Author who the Story wrote, Perhaps Quevedo here may claim The honour of the Author's name : But, though I can't precisely tell, The Narrative will do as well. Suffice it then, that it should seem, Some lively Sleeper had a dream, In which, as Fancy took its turn, He thought he was by Spirits borne To the terrific, vast Domain Where Satan holds his dismal reign. But it were needless to describe The flaming pomp, the sable tribe Which on th' infernal Sov'reign wait, Compose his train and form his state. The Devil, however, did his best, And graciously receiv'd his Guest ; Then drove him, in a Tandem, round His awful Kingdom's ample bound. ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 217 So swift he went there was no need To urge the Dragons' rapid speed. He then display'd the parts assigned To different classes of Mankind, Whose Spirits, borne on Fate's dark pinions, Are daily peopling his Dominions. At length they reach an arid space > Which crags and sulph'rous thorns deface, Where the weak, dazzled, mortal eye Could not discern the Boundary. When, as the livid Lightnings flam'd, The Dreamer thought that he exclaim'd— This Plain's of an enormous size/' " But not too large," the Devil replies : *' For no Attorney e'er drew breath ce Who will not dwell there after death ; sc And all who live in times to come, ANCE OF DEATH. How many cheeks will now turn pale At hearing of the Goblin's talc! How many tremble with affright At dreams that have perplex'd the night ! A Raven's croak, a Magpie's chatter, To numbers is a serious matter ; And when abroad they think to roam, Will check their steps and turn them home. How many Matrons daily see The grounds of Fate, in grounds of Tea ! If fair Maria breaks a glass, She's sure some ill will come to pass ; But, if the Salt, by chance she spills, She then foresees a thousand ills : Though, for her comfort, she grows bolder, When she has thrown it o'er her shoulder. — Lay knives across upon a table, It will some appetite disable : Check the digestion of the meat, And spoil the pleasures of a treat. — If a poor Dog tied up at night, Perchance should howl, it shakes with fright ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. The Nurse who sits by Sick-man's bed,, As a Knell tolling' for the dead. E'en Gipsies still pursue their trade. And daily get their vagrant bread, By boasting the pretence to be Skill'd in the arts of Palmistry : Ay, still what num'rous fools are known To learn their Fate of Norwood's Crone. — Thus in our bright, instructive day, When Science rules witli potent sway ; When Knowledge ev'rywhere expands And gets into so many hands; When Reason claims its widest rei^n The whims of Folly still remain ; And Hope and Fear, in constant strife, Continue to embarrass Life. Soothsayers have been long at rest, And Oracles are now a jest : We think not that the Comet brings The overthrow of Thrones and Kings : Nor, as of old, view with despair, The progress of the wond'rous star; VOL. II. f F 226 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. Yet still, how often we apply The workings of Credulity, And calculate on Horoscopes, To calm our Fears, or wake our Hopes : 'Tis Weakness, Folly, what you will ; But the vain search is practis'd still ; Or wherefore is it so well known, That, in each corner of the Town, Some artful, knavish Rascal dwells, Who, with grave aspect, Fortunes tells ; While, to each List'ner he pretends That He and Fate have long been Friends; And, by his Art, he can unlock it, As easily as pick a pocket. — To satisfy, while Reason's blind, The whimsy of the erring mind That doth in some weak moment, brood, O'er fear of ill, or hope of good, 'Tis known that scarce a day is past But some fair Maiden's Lot is cast ; Or tender Damsel seeks to prove, What is to be her Fate in Love. ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 227 Or eager Spendthrift doth apply To know when his old Sire will die : Or Miser bribes him to be told That he shall long enjoy his gold ; While he to know doth humbly crave, If Coin is current in the Grave. As I've been told, the other day, Two Ladies did a visit pay, With a Bank Note and their Petitions, To one of these self-dubb'd Magicians, Possess'd of a low, crafty sense, Sustain 'd by force of Impudence, And dealing out the will of Heaven According to the price that's given. For Ladies of the Higher Sort, Either from Folly or for Sport, Will visit, cloak'd up in disguise, } These Emperics in Prophecies, r To laugh at, or believe their lies. ^ In large arm'd Chair this Merlin sate, Prepar'd to sell the will of Fate; F F 2 228 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. And forming Packets from the sky, For any Fools who came to buy. The subtle Knave was well array 'd In all the Costume of his Trade, With sable Gown, and Cap well furr'd, The potent Wand, and flowing Beard. Above an Alligator hung, Beneath a range of Orbs was strung ; While, on a Globe, to aid the cheat, Grimalkin occupied a seat; For the unconscious mewing beast Was thought to be a Witch at least. Hither the curious Ladies went, Upon their timorous errand bent ; Trembling their Story they relate, Then wait in awe to know their Fate When thus the solemn Cunning Man His grave, mysterious speech began. " To me all Fate, all Fortune's known. When it was said, in hollow tone, " Vain boaster — can you tell your own? ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 229 'Twas Death who spoke: Behind the Chair He did his fatal Scheme prepare. The magic mumm'ry fell around, And Globes and Spheres bestrew'd the ground. — Weigh'd down by falsehoods, fraud and lies, The howling Fortune-teller dies. 230 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. Cfte lottery Office. AMONG the passions that infest The region of the human breast, That which enjoys the longest reign. Is known to be the -Love of Gain. — The Zest for pleasure oft decays E'er Man has witness'd half his days ; Ambition too as oft is fled, E'er the hair whitens on the head ; Nay, the inspiring meed of Fame, Is oft'times thought an empty name, E'er Health has ceas'd its crimson glow, Or Time with care has mark'd the brow. But Love of gain will ne'er depart, When once it seizes on the heart : But waits on Life, in ev'ry stage, From Youth e'en to the dre^s of A«e. ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 231 — All look with horror on the vice That bears the name of Avarice ; And yet it takes the worser name When it becomes the Love of Game, In the high ranks of Life what ruin, What hurry to their own undoing, What vain remorse, we daily see, The fruits of this propensity. But 'tis not in the Club alone The heedless Gamester is undone. 'Tis even seen among- the Classes Of Li v "ried Lads, and Toilette Lasses. Tyburn will tell that ruin flows As rapidly from Little Goes ; And Lotteries too oft supply Cargoes for Bay of Botany. — 'Tis not for those who deal in Rhyme, Up to the Statesman's desk to climb, Or else, 'twould be a willing task Of some Financier just to ask — Whether these Games, for Games they are, Though fram'd by Legislative Care, 232 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. When by the moral vision view'd Do not produce more harm than good ; And, to the lower ranks supply A tempting Lure to Villainy. 'Twas Mary's case : — Poor Mary came To serve a fashionable Dame, And never fail'd to do her duty In waiting on the shrine of Beauty : But, from some whimsy of her own, E'er she had liv'd a year in Town, Mary was prone to entertain This idle Fancy in her brain ; — That, e'er she had out-run Life's Heyday, She should herself become a Lady. For she had Beauty, as she knew, And her red cheeks, and eyes so blue Had given a colour to the Line Of many a flatt'ring Valentine. Besides, at any romping Ball In Steward's Room, or Servant's Hall, ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. Mary was thought to bear the Bell In smiling sweet and dancing well. A Gipsey, also, had foretold Some glut of unexpected Gold ; And, among other flatt'ring Lies, Had hinted at some golden prize, Prom Fortune in the Lotteries. In this fond Hope, her wages went, And fruits of cast-off gowns were spent : Nor was this all, — for many a Loan, From the Blue Balls, was fled and gone But though no kind returns were made In this unprofitable Trade; Hope yet remain'd. — One trial more Might, all that she had lost restore : While at each corner of the Street, Her eyes some golden promise meet. — Few thoughts, 'tis seen, alas, suffice To urge the mind that's bent on vice. And, to trip doubting Virtue's heels, Old Harry no compunction feels : — VOL. II. G G 234 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH, He thus suggested to poor Mary — " You now your fav'rite point will cany, " If you can get the Number bright " Of which you dream'd the other night." " I know it well, as I'm alive," Says she, " 'twas Number Fifty Five." — Thus fill'd with Hope, she risk'd her fame, And the rich Gem — an honest name, By vent'ring on foul Fortune's game. My Lady's Key the means supplies That guards the splendid Draperies, Which waited in the scented press Till Fashion opened their recess. These she thus ventur'd to purloin And soonproduc'd the purehas'd coin. Now Mary thought this could not be, In fact, a real Robbery, As they were all to be restor'd The moment Fortune kept her word. Which seem'd to be, so well assur'd, When the bright Number was procur'd, ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. £35 — Hope did alive her spirits keep, Though Fear had sometimes murder'd sleep, Till the day came that would reveal The awful Mysteries of the Wheel She sought the Oracles who sate T'unfold the Billets-doux of Fate, And ask'd her Lot ; when Death appear'd Behind the Desk, and strait uprear'd His fleshless hand, in which was seen A word of most terrific mien, To which she trembling turn'd her head, *Twas Blank the pale Advent'rer read. " Then I must go, for all is gone, " But where, — an outcast and undone. " To madness only can I fly " To lose a greater misery." " — From the sharp pangs of this sad hour, " From Fortune's disappointing power, " Thou art reliev'd;'* the Spectre said.— — rMary was numbered with the Dead. - g g 2 236 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. C^e prisoner torijargeto. WHENE'ER the fatal Arrow flies And some high-favour'd Mortal dies ; Whene'er we hang o'er Beauty's bier; Sorrow awakes the flowing tear. 'Tis not in Nature thus to part From those whose virtues warm'd our heart ; From those whose charms were form'd to move The melting soul to purest Love, Without the bosom's keen distress Which no words tell, no looks express : But when the wretch pours forth the groan That says—" I've laid my burden down When wicked men from troubling cease, And the long- wearied rest in peace ; ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 237 When Mercy calls us forth to see Death set the hopeless pris'ner free. We bless the inviolable doom, And hail the Asylum of the tomb. Thank Heaven, the Debtor, though so late, No longer shares the Felon's fate ; No longer by the Laws' delays, May be imprison'd half his days : No longer is the prison made The Harbour of that cruel trade Which fed the insatiable maw Of hungry, pettifogging Law : The imprison'd Debtor now may see The due approach of Liberty : From Redesdale's patient, patriot care, He now no longer need despair ; No longer writhe beneath the Paw Of griping Harpies of the Law : But in the Prison's transient gloom, May look for better times to come. 238 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. Redesdale, in thy great work, proceed ! Freedom will hail thee for the deed, And doubt not, but each future age Will bless the Patriot and the Sage. But e'er the bold, correcting hand Of Justice did, with mild command, Sweep from the Law the petty powers That curtail'd Freedom's rightful hours, And bid th' unfortunate Pris'ner see The end of his Adversity \ — — While yet the Iron Doors could close Upon the Pris'ner and his woes, And keep him fast for many a year, With scarce an hope his heart to cheer, Poor Morton, a sad tale to tell, For all who knew him, lov'd him well, Victim of Perjuries and Lies, The base Attorney's trickeries, And all the dark, insidious arts Which Knaves employ on gen'rous hearts, ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 239 Within those walls became immur'd, Where so much sorrow is endur'd. His friends prov'd kind, and in his need, There was no want of gen'rous deed ; But Friendship's self, with all its power, Could not advance fair Freedom's hour : Thus, when three years had pass'd away In Lawyers' frauds, in Laws' delay, His spirit could no longer wait ; } He call'd on Death to close his Fate : — r The Spectre led him through the Gate. * When, as he pass'd the Prison Door, Old Capias rail'd, and storm 'd and swore, Revil'd Death as an arrant Cheat, Who did his writs and tricks defeat, And could the hopeless Pris'ner free From all his practic'd Sorcery. But Morton's gone to that bless'd Heaven, Where sins, like his, will be forgiven ; Where all Afflictions will be o'er, And suffering Virtue sigh no more : 240 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. While Capias, and the unfeeling; brood, Who diet on the Heart's best blood, And feed on Sorrows, will despair Of ever finding entrance there. ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. CJe Gallant's £>otmtfalL WHEN sated Glory digs the Grave Where Vict'ry's flaunting banners wave, We croud around the Hero's bier, And grateful shed the patriot tear ; While public grief prepares the tomb, Where laurels will for ever bloom. But when War's clam 'ro us clangors cease, And, in the tranquil home of peace, The Soldier calmly yields his breath To the resistless power of Death, In dirges due and sad array, He's borne along the Church-yard way, And by his Grave no more is said Than sanctifies the vulgar dead. VOL. II h H 242 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. — If the brave man whom Fortune span Amid the dang'rous din of Wars, Should chance, in frolic ease, to die By any common casualty ; If all his vital powers should cease By bursting of a Fowling Piece, Or, if inclin'd to play the fool By vent'ring on th' half-frozen pool, And spite of Caution's sage advice, Should find a grave beneath the Ice, The termination of his story Is so unlike Heroic Glory, That some are apt to play the Fool By turning it to ridicule. But such was the young Hero's fate Whose tale these pages will relate. He was as brave as that keen sword Which, to his honour, kept its word : For oft as was its shining blade In battle's bloody scene display'd, ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 243 The trembling foe was made to feel The vengeance of the fatal steel. — But when War's noble feats were done, A thrifty praise was all he won, With promise at some future day That he should get a Captain's pay. Thus, He was forc'd to sit him down In Quarters in a Country Town ; Where, having' nothing else to do, A Country Miss he chose to woo. She was th' impatient daughter fair Of a retired Officer, Who had a Col'nePs rank acquir'd, And, still with martial honour fir'd, Had made his purpose understood, Through all the chatt'ring neighbourhood, No Subaltern his girl should wed, Or e'er ascend her marriage bed : He should a Major be at least, Whom she should join in Hymen's feast, h h 2 244 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH, But the Lieutenant had coiitriv'd By arts which often -times have thriv'd, The fair Maria to persuade, Who was a kind, susceptive maid, To chaunt the burden of the Song - , That — " Papas oftentimes are wrong." The Gard'ner too had lent a key To aid the Son of Chivalry, By which, at the appointed hour, He could approach Love's sacred bower: A Ladder too, both strong and tall, Was always left against the wall, By which th' Heroic Swain could clamber With ease, into the Lady's Chamber. There we suppose the moments flew As quickly as they're apt to do,, When tender Lovers steal an hour To weave a wreath for Hymen's bower, And they had hop'd they should be seen, Within a week, at Gretna Green. But Fate, that's oft a Foe to Love, Did not, it seems, the plan approve ; ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 215 And, as it oft has done before, Left a fair Maiden to deplore. The clock struck Ten, — with stately tread, The Col'nel sought his feather bed : When, as he pass'd, his watchful ear Did some unusual bustle hear. Betty, who held the light, and knew That his suspicions might be true, Said— cc La, Sir ! 'tis the cats that squall " As they run on the Garden wall." " Then," he replied, " I'll stop their squalling, " And quickly spoil their cat-a- walling ; " So hold your tongue, and make no fuss, " I'll take my little Blunderbuss : " Whoe'er they are, I hope to fright " The rascals from their sport to-night." So on he march 'd in martial state, And boldly pass'd the Garden gate ; When he took post behind a tree To form some dire catastrophe ;-— 246 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. Though the dark mantle of the night Veil'd all things from his dizzy sight. In the mean time the Hero came, Burning with Love's all-daring flame, And had the ready ladder found ; But e'er he reach'd the upper round, Grim Death, who, in a spiteful mood, Watching beneath the window stood, With ready power backward threw The Ladder and the Lover too, Who tumbled headlong in the pond, Stuck in the mud and soon was drown'd Just as the fatal work was done The Col'nel fir'd his Evening Gun. " Save him," was poor Maria's cry, c< Or I shall burst with agony." Her Sire replied — " Save him, save what ! " If I've kill'd ought, it is a Cat. ff So get you gone, and go to bed, " And drive these terrors from your head." Nor was it long e'er Betty cheers The weeping Maid. — " Dispel your fears : ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 9^ " For we have search'd the Garden round, " And not a creature's to be found. " I think he's safe from all this riot, (c And in his Quarters snug and quiet; " But should he wounded be, and die, " Why need you, Madam, sob and sigh: cc Lovers in plenty will be found " When the Lieutenant's under ground. " He was an handsome man, 'tis true, U But 110t half good enough for you. " Poor as he was, had you been married, " Your scheme, I fear, would have miscarried. " My Master would have stamped, and swora " That he would never see you more ; " And left you both to fast and pray u On Love, and a Lieutenant's pay. " But be th' event or right or wron- " CaIm! y submit~and hold your tongue." The morning came, the Pond displayd The poor advenfrous Soldier dead, 248 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH And Miss was waken'd to recite The Lesson of the over-night ; When, with pale looks, she view'd the scene, And wondertf what it all could mean t While the good people gape and stare, And all exclaim,—" How came he there ?" —The Col'nel, though ne'er bred at College, Would boast of his superior knowledge ; And was the Oracle well known Of ev'ry Club about the Town. All were prepar'd his thoughts to hear, And thus he fill'd each list' ning ear. « Had you e'er been where I have been, - And had you seen what I have seen, « You would have guess'd, as well as me, - The cause of this Catastrophe. « The poor Lieutenant was as gay « And frolicsome as birds in May : - Time, says the song, is on the wing, « And Youth's the Age to laugh and sing. « He fledg'd his maiden sword in Spain, « Nor did he draw it forth in vain ; ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 249 fe And 'twas a Spanish trick he play'd " To give my Girl a serenade : — " I've done the same when I was young, " And to some Nymph by star-light sung : H Thus, hoping to amuse my Daughter, " The Gallant fell into the water. " 'Twas a scheme after dinner form'd, ec And hence my garden has been storm'd : " He, doubtless, had o'ercharg'd his glass, " And this mishap has come to pass. " A tear ne'er fills the Soldier's eyes, <{ When on the plain a Soldier dies : " To the heroic and the brave " The Battle's field is Glory's grave; e( But when this Boy in youth's fair flower " Finds in a pond his final hour, " I'm forc'd to feel the ridicule, " That He should die so like a Fool." VOL. II. 250 ENGLISH DANCE OY DEATH. Cl)e Cljutdf) parti Debate, IS there a point in which we see That men of every rank agree ? Is there a point which none dispute, And which no reas'ning can confute, 'Tis this, of motives sure the best, When well explain'd — Self Interest. — If to be happy is the view Which all mankind through life pursue, The way is plain, when understood ; 'Tis nothing more than to be good ; 'Tis Honour, Virtue, and the part Which marks a truly honest heart; 'Tis this completes the social plan That forms the Happiness of Man. Such is the wise unerring rule, The Doctrine of the Christian School. ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 251 Man his best Interest thus pursues, When banishing all narrow views, All objects to himself confin'd, He looks at large to human kind. First, to his kindred and his friends, To neighbours then his virtue tends, And, op'ning wide the vast embrace, At length enfolds the human race. Such the firm Joy that Life bestows, Such the best cure for mortal woes. But there are those, the verse must own, Who think upon themselves alone ; Whose self-regard we must express By the foul name of selfishness : A low, base, envious, glutton vice, That general kind of Avarice,' Which, careless of all social ties, In one dark narrow circle lies : And 'tis this feeling which the verse, Such as it is, must now rehearse. i i 2 252 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. One afternoon a Country Vicar Regal'd, with his best, foaming liquor, A Doctor by his skill renown'd For many a mile the country round, And a practitioner of Law, Of whom that Country stood in awe. They gossip 'd on the affairs of state, Laugh 'd at the follies of the great, And prov'd, by various illustration, That the times wanted reformation ; And each of them, by turns, was sure He could all Public Evils cure. — Tims, as they pass'd away the hour, The Bell from the adjoining tower Gave notice by its sullen roar That some poor mortal was no more. 'Squire B is gone, the Vicar said, And comes to join the num'rous dead Who in the Parish Church-yard lie, Sad scene of frail mortality. —The Doctor smil'd— « So let it be " Hatband and scarf, and gloves and fee, ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 253 t! Will well, my Friend, your pains repay " In mingling him with common clay." — The Parson, looking grave, replied — " He was your patient till He died ; ec And I receive the poor remains ett. WHAT sudden changes do we see. What wonderful Variety., In all that passes here below, From Grief to Joy, from Joy to Woe ! How oft do the transitions seem The rapid movements of a dream : But no where does the change appear So oft within one fleeting year ; So oft display the motley mien As in the pantomimic scene Which Fashion, by her magic power, Forms to enliven every hour. Jack Dashall, who was so well known In every public place in Town, k k % 260 ENGLISH DANCE OJT DEATH. On whose Barouche and high-bred bays The Youngsters did with envy, gaze ; — Should it be ask'd where Jack is fled. Or if He's number'd with the dead,, Or wherefore we no longer meet "J The gayest lounger of the street ? r Why — He is lounging — in the Fleet. ' Aspasia made three winters gay, With Dance and Song, and Feast and Play To the first Ton she op'd her doors : Lit up her room, and chalk'd her floors : Of Figure and Profusion proud, She welcom'd all the titled crowd, And thought herself supremely paid By all the flatt'ring things they said. But ah — extinct is all her Fame, And Fashion never speaks her name. The House is let, the Dame is flown, And Pleasure's gay Regalia gone, While she in distant Village pines, And on a vulgar chicken dines : ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. When, to exasperate her Lot, She hears that she is quite forgot ; That no one thinks upon the pleasure In which she wasted all her treasure. But I've another change to tell, Which a despairing Rake.befel : Who, as he welter'd in distress, Was rais'd to instant happiness, One morn, as on his restless bed, Lord John reclin'd his aching head, While sleep refus'd th' oblivious power To add another drowsy hour: Of Bonds, Post Obits, all the trade On his resenting Mem 'ry play 'd; While all those missile papers storm His yielding fears in ev'ry form, With which the gaunt Attornies threat Those who are over-charg'd with debt ; While not another Jew in Town Would lend his Lordship half-a-crown. 262 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. There He remained but ill at ease, \ Watch'd by Law's base Satellites, r Smiling Distress, and prompt to seize. ' Thus, as he on his pillow lay, Pondering the Journals of the Day, Fred'rick, his faithful Valet came, And, breathless, scarcely could exclaim cc Great news, my Lord! — Your cares are past, " And Cousin Roland's kind at last." " How is he kind ?" was the reply. <« Why — he has been so kind to die. — " Now, now, my Lord you need not fear \ " Lawyers or Bailiffs : — you're a Peer, f " With twice ten thousand pounds a year. " Simon, the Steward, is below, U$t. THE course through which our Life is past, From our first moments to our last, Has been describ'd in various forms : The river's calm, the ocean's storms ; The tranquil path, the beaten road, By the great bulk of mortals trod. Some in the wherry glide along, Or tug the oar 'gainst billows strong, Or turn with skill the swelling sail, As fair or adverse winds prevail : But though the emblem may be rude, It is as clearly understood If for our symbol we engage The common Carriage call'd a Stage. Few who their destin'd course begin, Or from the Sun or Angel Inn, N N 2 284 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. Of the known way complete the whole Through which the wheels are bound to roll. When beaming Phoebus 'gins his race, Each Passenger asserts his place ; And with no small impatience waits Till the Coach moves between the Gates. Some, e'er a few short hours are run, Will find their early Journey done: Others., before the Noon is come, May reach, in peace, their destin'd home. As from the Journey they retreat, New Comers fill each vacant seat ; — But, from events of every day, Which shorten or obstruct the way, Few Travelers, in the Journey, ken Of mile-stones full threescore and ten. Such was the fate of Mrs. Cherry, At once, fat, cumbersome and merry. — Many a year was gone and past, Since she had been at London last, ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 2Sb And all the wonders of the spot Which she then saw, were now forgot. But a dear Daughter young and fair Had married, and was settled there : Besides,, a little Stranger came, To bless her with a Grannam's name. More than enough was this to call The Lady from a country Hall : This had the instant power to charm Her absence from the wealthy Farm, Where she had long been us'd to reign The Mistress of the Village train. Turkey and Fowl, and Ham and Chine, On which the Cits prefer to dine, With Partridge too, and eke a Hare, \ The luxuries of country Fare, /■ She closely pack'd with bounteous care ; ' And the next morn, at Turnpike Gate, The Coach received her comely weight. But the tear stood in either eye. When her dear Yeoman said, " Good bye. " 286 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. For twenty years were gone, for aye, Since she had left him for a day. She felt the joy that would attend And wait upon her journey's end ; But now they were about to part. The Mother shar'd but half her heart ; And fond Affection's tender strife Betray'd the feelings of the Wife. The Sun had scarce sunk to the West, E'er she became her Daughter's guest : She kiss'd the Baby o'er and o'er As babes have oft been kiss'd before ; And, when it smil'd, was charm'd to see Each feature of the Family. — About the Town she whilom rang'd, And ev'ry day the sight was chang'd : Each various shew she went to view, With Bonaparte's Carriage too: The Panorama's magic space, And Lord Mayor's Sword and gilded Mace. ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 287 She saw once more St. Dunstan's men Strike, with fierce stroke, the hour of Ten ; Nor did she think her time ill-spent, In viewing many a Monument, Which tells the Hero's patriot story, And forms the Abbey's gloomy glory. From St. Paul's domineering dome, She bade her wond'ring eyes to roam, And London view'd in all its pride, With a surrounding world beside. She felt th' unrivall'd powers of Kean, And Miss O'Neil was heard and seen ; But still with all these new delights, Her pleasant days and social nights, She gladden'd when the time was come That call'd her to her much-lov'd home. But she was doom'd no more to see Nor Home nor Husband ; — the Decree Of Fate had bade her eyes to close, E'er the next morning's dawn arose. 288 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. She kiss'd, with fond, renew'd em- brace. The Offspring of her honest race ; Then sought the Coach — to take her place. When Death was there, with horrid grin, To shove the cumbrous Matron in. But she, unconscious of her Fate, Join'd in the Vehicle's debate, And did her mild discourse supply With inoffensive pleasantry, Till the three passengers were gone, And she, at length, was left alone. — The Sun had beam'd with cheering rai And brighten 'd Nature through the day, But at the Evening's latest hour, The clouds, as they began to lour, Did the departing scene deform, And all foretold the coming storm. Soon it came on, with beating rain ; The fierce winds blew an hurricane ; The thunder roll'd,— dark was the night, The Horses, seiz'd with sudden fright, ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. No more obey the firm command Of the stern Coachman's steady hand ; Then madly quit the beaten road, And plunge into the river's flood. Where the impetuous, waters rage Was Mrs. Cherry's last, sad stage. She scream'd at first, then prayer preferr'c But neither scream, nor pray'r was heard. Thus this devoted Matron died, Where she had only meant to ride. vol. n o o 290 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. Ctme, SDeatf), anti Ctenu'tp. A NIGHT THOUGHT, HAIL, awful darkness ! that with pitchy Robe Borrowed of Chaos, dost, awhile, enfold The habitable world, and sea and sky ; Thee I now woo, at solemn midnight Hour That listens to the voice of my complaint, Oft it is heard, when on the restless couch Of tossing pain, Care lies and weeps till morn. And sheds its tears, sad, tort' ring tears, The Essence of the Heart's disastrous woe. I shed them now, — but long I am not doom'd To feel their cank'ring drops adown my cheek ; Death soon will make it pale, and lay me safe From every mortal pain within the grave. ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 291 — Come happy hour, — haste on thy swift, ca- reer, And with Fate's barbed shaft give wish'd for peace. What peace on that fell dart? Yes, lasting peace : — Peace that will never interruption know ; Peace, such as Angels taste, and Heaven bestows. — Farewell then, thou vain world no more I bend To thy capricious power! nor all the gilded baits That wealth can boast or Lordly greatness give, Nor even graceful Beauty's smiling charm Could tempt me to the treach'rous shore again. I go where rich and poor together sleep, And the Slave's dust doth mingle with his Lord : Where the rod drops from Power's unnerved hand And Beauty feeds the hunger of the worm. 292 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. — You smile, but there the good man's sorrows end, And all his Joys begin. The grave's the path, The shadowy path which leads to endless day, Where suns with purest ray, eternal shine, To their meridian fix'd, and set no more. Haste then and weave my shroud, and bring the bier And bear me to be mingled with the dust. Let not the plumes nod o'er my sable hearse, Nor Sculpture labour with the flatt'ring strain : Let not the blazing torch make midnight noon, To light me to my long and dark abode ; But may the Summer Sun at Evening Hour Cast its faint rays upon the awful scene, Where Earth is given to Earth, and Dust to Dust. Smile then, ye gay ones, as I pour the strain, Or o'er my plantive musings breath a sigh Of friendly pity! — Grateful I return ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 293 The pitying sigh, breath'd from a pensive heart, A heart, which though it hovers o'er the tomb, Boasts brighter Joys, than the gay, glitt'ring Scenes Where your delights are center'd, can bestow. — I soon shall be at rest : — can ye say that, Ye Youthful train, who travel through the maze, The giddy maze of Passion's checquer'd dance? Can ye say that, with Fevers in your heart, That strive each hour to quench the burning flame, At Pleasure's warm, intoxicating Spring. Heaven is the seat of Mercy, there enthron'd The Cherub sits, in mild but awful state : From thence he views the hearts of mortal men With pitying eye, and wishes to delay The stern and steady course of rig'rous Law 294 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. And stops the Scourgeman's hand, to pour a balm Into the wounds which vengefulJustice gives To erring mortals : then invites them back From Errors's fatal path, to Virtue's way, And beams eternal sunshine o'er their heads. Say, what is pleasure Ye mistaken fair ! Is it to yield your beauties to the wish Of him who buys with gold the venal Joy ? Is it to give the mercenary smile To him you do not love, in sad Exchange For the gay lustre which adorns your hair, And all your gawdy show and vain attire, The Liv'ry of your more than servile state. Tell me, and tell me true ; — when ye have stray'd At Evening Hour along the Village path, Though deck'd in flaunting Fashion's glitt'ring robe Have you not envied Virtue's homely dress, ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 295 And wish'd to change your mansion for the Cot Where she, well pleas'd, beneath her humble Thatch, Sits smiling o'er the Labours of the Wheel. Mine is a pensive mind : to me more dear The Ev'ning's purple hue, and rising mist, Circling, in mantle grey, the verdant hill And Sylvan upland, than the mid-day pomp, Of Nature, gilded by the gorgeous Sun. The triumphs of the great, the splendid show Of proud Magnificence demand in vain My reverence : more soothing far to me The Turf that heaves upon the peasant's grave, And the once fragrant flowers that wither there. Nor all the sounds of Music strike my soul With such affecting power, as doth the Knell Which calls the dead to their expecting home. — I walk around the Tomb, and pensive view The quiet cavern, in whose dark abode, 296 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. When evil tongues hiss forth the foul abuse, When Fortune turns away, and Friends prove false, Man may a safe, and peaceful refuge find, A certain refuge and a sure retreat. — Where is the Covert from Life's frequent storm ? — Ye who have long been toss'd upon the tide, The flowing tide, of Time, O tell me where. Is it amid the vales where pleasure sports, With all her airy tribes ; or on the giddy height AVhere proud Ambition takes its tott'ring seat ; Or is it in the dreary, darksome cave, Where starving Av'rice trembles o'er its gold • Is it in bowers form'd of roses sweet, And hung with every garland of the Spring- Wove by the Fingers of assiduous Love ? Or where, in Learning's cell the studious lamp Throws its pale, quiv'ring light upon the page, ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH,. 297 By long and midnight toil severely fram'd. — Nor in the flowery vales where pleasure sports, Nor where Ambition rears the tottering seat;— 'Tis not within the Miser's gloomy cave ; 'Tis not within the roseate Bowers of Love, Nor where the pale Lamp lights the studious sage, To midnight toil : alas, it is not there. And while we seek in vain amid the great Or on the gorgeous thrones where monarchs sit, It often may be found in humble cot Where Virtue with the honest peasant dwells. — And what is Virtue ? 'Tis the conscious power Of acting right in spite of every foe, That may oppose its base malicious aim To check the pure designs which it inspires. VOL. II. p p 298 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. — It is to stem the tide Corruption rolls O'er half the world,, to curb the impetuous will Of lawless passion, and, on Life's vast stage, To act that noble part which will attain The good man's praise and the applause of Heaven. — Yes, Virtue, potent Virtue, can secure 'Gainst every peril ; 'tis a triple shield To him who has it, 'gainst the pointed darts Of ev'ry enemy ; the hour of death With all its gloom, gives not a fear to him, Who triumphs o'er the grave ; he stands se- cure Amid the ruins of a fallen world. — Virtue will listen to the trumpet's sound, With holy awe, yet hear it unappall'd, And feels Eternity its destin'd sphere : — When all the works of Man shake to their base, And the world melts away whereon they stood ; When Time's last agonising hour is come, ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH. 299 And Death,, who, from Creation's pregnant hour, Has made the world a grave, himself shall die, When Man from his long slumber shall awake, And the Day breaks that never more shall close ; Then Virtue shall its promis'd glory claim, And find it, too, at the o'erflowing Source Of Heaven's stupendous and eternal Joys. FINISH J. Diggens, Printer, St. Ann's Lane, London. INDEX TO THE SECOND VOLUME. i 1'. The Suicide. Page Death smiles, and seems his Dart to hide : When he beholds the Suicide. 1 ' 2. Champagne, Sherry, and Water-Gruel. Have patience, Death, nor be so cruel, To spoil the Sick Man's Water-Gruel. 18 f 3. The Nursery. Death rocks the Cradle : Life is o'er : The Infant sleeps, to wake no more. - S3 ' 4. The Astronomer. Why, I was looking at the Bear : But what strange Planet — see I there ? 38 l 5. The Father of the Family. The Doctors say, that you're my Booty : Come, Sir, for I must do my Dut}\ - - - — 43 1 6. The Fall of Four-in-Hand. Death can contrive to strike his Blows By over-turns, and over-throws. 49 t 7- Gaffer Goodman. Another Whiff — and all is o'er ; And Gaffer Goodman is no more. 62 INDEX. * 8. The Urchin Robbers. ~ Page O, the unconscionable Brute ! To murder — for a little Fruit ! 70 % 9. Death turned Pilot. The fatal Pilot grasps the Helm, And steers the Crew to Pluto's Realm. 79 ^10. The winding up of the Clock. " No one but me shall set my Clock :" He set it — and behold the Shock ! 87 1 11. The Family of Children. 'Twere well to spare me two or three Out of your num'rous Family. - - - 9,5 1 12. Death's Door. In this World all our Comfort's o'er : So let us find it at Death's Door. 101 ' 13. The Fire. Let him go on, with all his Rigs ; We're safe— He'll only burn the Pigs. 106 ' 14. The Miser's End. Old Dad, at length, is grown so kind — He dies, and leaves his Wealth behind. - - - 116 x 15. Gretna Green. Love, spread your Wings, I'll not out-strip 'em : Though Death's behind, He will not clip 'em. 126 ' 16. The Waltz. By Gar, that horrid, strange Buffoon Cannot keep time to any, Tune. ------- INDEX. 1 17- Maternal Tenderness. Page Thus, it appears, a Pond of Water, May prove an Instrument of Slaughter. — 144 1 18. The Kitchen. Thou Slave to ev'ry gorging Glutton : I'll spit thee, like a Leg of Mutton. ----- 152 ' 19. The Gig. Away they go, in Chaise and one, Or to undo, or be undone. ---- - — - - 158 ' 20. The Mausoleum. Your crabbed Dad is just gone Home ; And now we look for Joys to come. - - - - 167 ' 21. The Courtship. It is in vain that you decide : Death claims you as his destin'd Bride. - - - 173 ' 22. The Toastmaster. " The End of Life," the Chairman cries; Tis drank — and many a Toper dies. - - - - 199 f 23. The Careless and the Careful. The Careful, and the Careless, led To join the Living and the Dead. 204 ' 24. The Law overthrown. The Serjeant's Tongue will cease to brawl In ev'ry Court of yonder Hall. - — - 210 ' 25. The Fortune Teller. All Fates he vow'd to him were known, And yet he could not tell his own. - - - — 222 * 26. The Lottery Office. To trust to Fortune's Smiles alone, Is the High Road to be undone. - 230 INDEX. 27. The Prisoner discharged. Page Death, without either Bribe or Fee, Can set the hopeless Pris'ner free. 236 1 28. The Gallants Downfall. Th' Assailant does not feel a Wound ; But yet he dies — for he is drown'd. — - — 241 * 29. The Church-Yard Debate. Tis strange, but true, in this World's Strife, That Death affords the Means of Life 250 •30. The Good and Great. What heart-felt Tears bedew the Dust Of Him whose ev'ry Thought was just. 256 1 31. The next Heir. 'Tis not the Time to meet one's Fate, Just ent'ring on a large Estate. - — 259 "32. The Chamber War. When Doctors three, the Labour share, No Wonder Death attends them there. 266 ' 33. Death and the Antiquaries. Death, jealous of his Right, stands Cent'ry Over the strange, burglarious Entry. - - - - 27 1 34. The Dainty Dish. This fine, hot, Feast's a Preparation To some, for Death's last cold Collation. - - 275 ' 35. The Last Stage. From Hour to Hour, from Youth to Age, Life's Traveller takes th' uncertain Stage. - - 283 1 36. Time, Death and Eternity. The Song now bursts beyond the Bounds of Time, And Immortality concludes the Rhyme. - - - 290 ■i ■I