In bousing about 't was his praise to excel,
And among jolly topers he bore off the bell.

It chanced as in dog-days he sat at his ease,
In his flower-woven arbor, as gay as you please,
With a friend and a pipe, puffing sorrows away,
And with honest old stingo was soaking his clay,
His breath-doors of life on a sudden were shut,
And he died full as big as a Dorchester butt.

His body, when long in the ground it had lain,
And time into clay had resolved it again,
A potter found out in its covert so snug,

And with part of fat Toby he formed this brown jug;

Now sacred to friendship, to mirth, and mild ale,

So here's to my lovely sweet Nan of the vale !

FRANCIS FAWKES.

JOHN DAVIDSON.

JOHN DAVIDSON and Tib his wife
Sat toastin' their taes ae night,
When somethin' started on the fluir
An' blinked by their sight.

"Guidwife!" quo' John, "did ye see that

mouse?

Whar sorra was the cat?"

Yet when the auld carle fell asleep,

She paid him back for that,

Guidman,

I saw it as plain as een could see,
An' I tell ye 't was a mouse!"

"If you 're the maister o' the house,
It's I'm the mistress o' 't;

An' I ken best what 's i' the house,

Sae I tell ye 't was a rat."

"Weel, weel, Guidwife, gae mak the brose, An' ca' it what ye please."

Sae up she gat an' made the brose,

While John sat toastin' his taes.

""T was a rat, 't was a rat, 't was a rat!"

He many creature did anatomize,
Almost unpeopling water, air, and land;
Beasts, fishes, birds, snails, caterpillars, flies,
Were laid full low by his relentless hand,
That oft with gory crimson was distained;

He many a dog destroyed, and many a cat;
Of fleas his bed, of frogs the marshes drained,
Could tellen if a mite were lean or fat,
And read a lecture o'er the entrails of a gnat.

He knew the various modes of ancient times, Their arts and fashions of each different guise, Their weddings, funerals, punishments for crimes, Their strength, their learning eke, and rarities; Of old habiliments, each sort and size,

Male, female, high and low, to him were known; Each gladiator dress, and stage disguise;

With learned, clerkly phrase he could have shown

How the Greek tunic differed from the Roman gown.

A curious medalist, I wot, he was,

And boasted many a course of ancient coin; Well as his wife's he knewen every face,

From Julius Cæsar down to Constantine: For some rare sculpture he would oft ypine, (As green-sick damosels for husbands do ;) And when obtainèd, with enraptured eyne, He'd run it o'er and o'er with greedy view, And look, and look again, as he would look it through.

His rich museum, of dimensions fair,

With goods that spoke the owner's mind was fraught:

Things ancient, curious, value-worth, and rare, From sea and land, from Greece and Rome, were brought,

Which he with mighty sums of gold had bought : On these all tides with joyous eyes he pored; And, sooth to say, himself he greater thought, When he beheld his cabinets thus stored, Than if he 'd been of Albion's wealthy cities lord.

MARK AKenside.

THE HARE AND MANY FRIENDS.

FRIENDSHIP, like love, is but a name, Unless to one you stint the flame, The child, whom many fathers share, Hath seldom known a father's care. "T is thus in friendship; who depend On many, rarely find a friend. A hare who, in a civil way,

Complied with everything, like Gay,
Was known by all the bestial train
Who haunt the wood, or graze the plain;
Her care was never to offend;
And every creature was her friend.

As forth she went at early dawn,
To taste the dew-besprinkled lawn,
Behind she hears the hunter's cries,
And from the deep-mouthed thunder flies.
She starts, she stops, she pants for breath;
She hears the near advance of death;
She doubles, to mislead the hound,
And measures back her mazy round;
Till, fainting in the public way,
Half dead with fear she gasping lay.

What transport in her bosom grew,
When first the horse appeared in view!
"Let me," says she, "your back ascend,
And owe my safety to a friend.
You know my feet betray my flight;
To friendship every burden 's light."
The horse replied, "Poor honest puss,
It grieves my heart to see thee thus:
Be comforted, relief is near,
For all your friends are in the rear."

She next the stately bull implored;
And thus replied the mighty lord:
"Since every beast alive can tell
That I sincerely wish you well,

I may, without offense, pretend
To take the freedom of a friend.
Love calls me hence; a favorite cow
Expects me near yon barley-mow;
And, when a lady 's in the case,
You know, all other things give place.
To leave you thus might seem unkind;
But, see, the goat is just behind."

The goat remarked, her pulse was high,
Her languid head, her heavy eye:

"My back," says he, "may do you harm; The sheep's at hand, and wool is warm." The sheep was feeble, and complained His sides a load of wood sustained; Said he was slow, confessed his fears; For hounds eat sheep as well as hares. She now the trotting calf addressed, To save from death a friend distressed. "Shall I," says he, "of tender age, In this important case engage? Older and abler passed you by; How strong are those! How weak am I ! Should I presume to bear you hence, Those friends of mine may take offense. Excuse me, then; you know my heart; But dearest friends, alas! must part. How shall we all lament! Adieu! For see, the hounds are just in view."

JOHN GAY.