Nor mean I all should wear the cap

Full well befitting one,

By fellow swabbers HENRY hight,

An imp of CHATTERTON.

Hard is his vifage, hard his heart,
Uncouth his fpeech and chuff;

The squalid waterman of Styx
Had fcarce a mien fo gruff.*

Did he, the fouls to ferry o'er,
For CHARON take the helm,
Not one, tho' of Elyfium fure,

Would vifit PLUTO's realm.

Tho' born in ftorms, to objects loath'd, *

And ftorms in life inur'd,

Even at his afpect I recoil'd,

And scarce his fight endur'd.

I tread the ground, where, blithe and free
In thoughtless years I stray'd,

And trace the haunts, to memory dear,

Where oft my childhood play'd.

Around

Around the place fond, anxious looks

At every turn I threw,

In hopes, nor vain my hopes at last,
To meet fome face I knew.

I ftop at each remembered spot,
And on the prospect dwell;
Then of fome boyish incident

My fweet companions tell. *

Here, the prompt champion of my friend,

I check'd his faucy foes;

And here a hardy conqueft gain'd,

And here a bloody nofe.

- Here LEADBETTER kept fchool-here HUGHES,

By death long fince remov'd;

A tear, affection's tribute, fhows
Their pains not thankless prov'd.

As recollection livelier grew,

From place to place I rang'd; See palaces where oxen grazed, And huts to churches chang'd.

St.

St. PETER'S, GEORGE'S, NICHOLAS' too,

The feaman's ancient trust;*

*

Each object with delight I view;

Yet ftill intrudes difguft.

Why should a foul, imposing elf
*My foul's ferene o'er-cast ?

Keep clear your wharfs, ye fons of trade!
For firft impreffions laft.

'Tis meet the labourer to reward,

And 'tis as ftri&tly true,

Integrity's the safest plan,
And wifeft to pursue.

Frenchman or Dutch, or friend or foe,
By name whatever call'd,

He'll scarce the mooring recommend,

Who has his hawfer gall'd.

To fee this town, their father's boast,

Oft would my children crave,

And, lo! the poor young travellers greet

A rude defigning knave.

Weeds are produc'd in every soil;

But that's a lame excuse,

And juftly cenfure they incur

Who tolerate abuse.

Are there no laws, no magiftrates,

Extortion to correct,

That ftrangers who your wealth admire,
Your justice may respect?

İM PROMPT U1

YE Gods! who fit and live at reft,

• Attend to hear my wishes;

I'm in a hurry to be bless'd,

So, pray! be expeditious.

Grant me-let's fee-now, if you please,

This very moment, grantPlague take it! how vexatious this!

I can't tell what I want.

SONNETS

SONNET I

то

MISS PLU M ME R.

LEFT FOR HER IN A SUMMER-HOUSE.

MDCCLXXI.

PLUMMER! whose growing beauties every hour,
Tranfcend the promise of thy early days,

Mark, with attentive eye, yon opening flower,
Nor flight the fimple leffon it conveys :
Bright to the fun it spreads its vivid hues,

And wide around its living fragance throws;
Scarce thy own lips a sweeter breath effuse,

Scarce thy own cheek with purer crimson glows.

Anon, fad emblem! mark this child of MAY,

The rude eaft nips it, or the worms devour;
Borne by the blaft, or scatter'd by the shower,

Its odours languish, and its tints decay:

Hence learn, dear maid! that beauty's but a flower; The gay, brief triumph of the paffing hour.

SONNET