THE FIRST OF APRIL: OR, THE TRIUMPHS OF FOLLY: A POEM.

'Twas on the Morn when _April_ doth appear,

And wets the Primrose with its maiden tear;

'Twas on the Morn when laughing FOLLY rules,

And calls her Sons around, and dubs them Fools;

Bids them be bold, some untry'd path explore,

And do such deeds as Fools ne'er did before;

'Twas on that Morn, when Fancy took her stand

Beside my couch, and, with fantastic wand,

Wav'd, from her airy cells, the Antic Train

That play their gay delusions on the brain:

And strait, methought, a rude impetuous Throng,

With noise and riot, hurried me along,

To where a sumptuous Building met my eyes,

Whose gilded turrets seem'd to dare the skies.

To every Wind it op'd an ample door,

From every Wind tumultuous thousands pour.

With these I enter'd a stupendous Hall,

The scene of some approaching festival.

O'er the wide portals, full in sight, were spread

Banners of yellow hue, bestrip'd with red,

Whereon, in golden characters, were seen:

THE ANNIVERSARY OF FOLLY'S QUEEN!

Strange motley ornaments the Building grac'd,

With every emblem of corrupted Taste.

No stately Column rose to meet the Dome,

No Sculpture borrow'd from the Arts of Rome;

No well-wrought Frieze crept graceful on the walls,

Th' _Acanthus_ weav'd no splendid Capitals;

Nor did the Attic elegance supply

One simple foliage for the judging eye.

But, in their stead, Confusion void of Sense,

And all the pride of false Magnificence,

Display'd an idle, vain, fantastic show,

Fit only for the Crowd that gaz'd below.

Gay China's unsubstantial forms supply

The place of Beauty, Strength, Simplicity.

Each varied colour, of the brightest hue,

The green, the red, the yellow, and the blue,

In every part the dazzled eyes behold,

Here streak'd with silver, there enrich'd with gold;

While fancied forms upon the ceiling sprawl,

And shapeless monsters decorate the wall.

In every scatter'd niche I look'd in vain

For Heroes famous on th' embattled plain;

Or animated Bust, whose brow severe

Mark'd the sage Statesman or Philosopher.

But in the place of those whose Patriot fame

Gave glory to the Greek and Roman name,

Or Heroes who for Freedom bravely fought,

Men without heads,--and Heads that' never thought,

Greet my sick eye,--with all their names enroll'd

In the vain pomp of prostituted gold.

Nor had the Painter's active hand restrain'd

The all-bedaubing brush: the walls were stain'd

With the gay colourings of capricious Art,

Wherein nor Truth nor Genius bore a part.

There _Sigismunda_'s form again I knew,

Which FOLLY hinted, and old _Hogarth_ drew.

No sketch of REYNOLD's pencil did appear,

Science and Taste found no admittance there;

But the vain Painter had essay'd to trace,

In rude distortion, and with strange grimace,

Each story the Historic Pages tell,

Where FOLLY triumph'd, and where WISDOM fell.

There the great BACON, whose sagacious eye

Pierc'd through the gloom of dark Philosophy,

And to the World unveil'd her awful face,

Crouch'd a low, servile Courtier in disgrace.

There PULTENEY, who the first stout bulwark stood

Of British Freedom 'gainst the torrent flood

Of dire Corruption, having stemm'd the wave,

Shook off the Patriot, and became the Slave.

There PITT, whose great and comprehensive soul

No threats could frighten, no events controul;

Whose name dash'd terror on his Country's foes,

From GALLIA'S Shores to where the GANGES flows

Through Eastern Nations;--There he wore the chain

Of Royal Gold, and join'd the pension'd Train.

But the Muse weeps, and drops the silent tear

O'er the sad truths which were recorded there.

High, in the midst, a Pageant of a Throne

In the extreme of Tinsel Splendor shone.

No Sacred Ensigns, no Imperial Chair,

Mark'd the high worth of those who counseled there;

But, shaded by a Curtain's vivid green,

A splendid, soft, luxuriant Couch was seen.

The spangled Banners glitter'd all around,

And the unfolded Silver strew'd the ground;

While the false Mirrors pain the dazzled eye

With mingled Forms, and gay Perplexity.

Hung from the roof by many a golden thread,

The Canopy its airy cov'ring spread,

Inwove with plumage borrow'd from the wing }

Of India's feather'd Tribe, or those that sing }

'Mid the green woodlands of a Western Spring. }

Before the Throne a splendid Altar stood,

Inlaid, in curious forms, with fragrant wood;

Whereon the faithful Votaries might lay

Their Offerings sacred to the festal day.

Methought, that, tir'd of the disgusting scene,

Fit for Fools only, and their silly Queen,

I sought in haste to leave the inglorious Throng:

But as the pressing Crowd my steps prolong,

The deafening Cymbals, and the noisy brawl

Of pealing Laughter, ecchoed round the Hall.

And strait a troop of dancing Youths appear'd,

Of rosy hue, by friendly BACCHUS chear'd.

The tinkling bells upon their feet they wore;

Each, in his hand, a rural Tabor bore,

Whose sides they frequent beat, and, at the sound,

Aloft in air, with, antic step, they bound.

Next came a blooming Boy in robe of green;

On his fair brow a flowery crown was seen,

Where the pale Primrose with the Cowslip vied,

And fragrant Violets shone in purple pride.

Upon a Bull he rode, whose horns were gay

With many a golden flower and budding spray.

Around him every vernal Songster fled,

While the Lark soar'd and whistled o'er his head.

And now he smil'd with joy, and now, apace,

The crystal tears bedew'd his alter'd face.

Like the young Fondling on his Mother's breast,

Who cries for absent joys, and thinks them best:

'Mid smiles, and tears, and frowns, he onward came,

With gentle pace,--and APRIL was his name.

To him succeeds a light and frolic Train

Of wanton Females, insolent and vain,

Whose cheeks, by Art encrimson'd, far outvie

The vivid hue of blushing Modesty.

Their auburn ringlets float not in the air;

No silken fillet binds their flowing hair;

But, plaister'd into form, the curls disgrace

Each animated feature of the face.

The gladsome Fair, in honour of the day,

With artificial flow'rets strew'd the way.

But in what language shall the Muse describe

The dancing, dressing Millinery Tribe,

Who, with their various emblems, next appear,

And joyful tell th' approach of FASHION near.

With mincing step the fickle Princess came:

Th' attending Crowds shout forth her empty name.

Strange was her form,--her look, her dress were strange;

And yet each moment saw their sudden change.

Now her Locks soar aloft, and threat the sky;

Now shade the brightness of her rolling eye:

Awhile they on her wanton bosom break;

Then, upward forc'd, display th' uncover'd neck.

Ere the long train could spread its shady folds,--

Drawn up,--a knot the alter'd vestment holds.

Soon fade the glories of th' enormous Plume;

As soon the superseding Chaplets bloom.

The rigid Stay, whose daring height conceals

Those swelling charms where many a Cupid dwells,

Ere they can heave again,--no more appear;

But leave each vulgar eye to revel there.

As I look'd down, the dropping Silk denies

Her pretty feet to my intruding eyes:

Again I look'd,--th' according flounce updrew,

And gave the well-turn'd ankle to my view.

Now stiff,--now slouching in her gait she walk'd;

Now lisp'd, now mouth'd each sentence as she talk'd.

A form so changeful I had never seen;--

The red, the blue, the yellow, and the green,

In quick succession, o'er her figure past,

A moment loiter'd, but refus'd to last.

And as, in various pride, she mov'd along,

Now charm'd,--now angry with the shouting Throng,

Submissive _Eunuchs_ to their Mistress bend,

And in shrill warblings hail their _only_ Friend.

Now LUXURY advanc'd, a pamper'd Dame;

In these brave piping days a favourite name.

Tissues of gold her gorgeous robe compose;

In many a fold the shining vestment flows;

And far behind sends forth a sweeping Train,

Which _Dame Cornelys_ scarcely can sustain.

Gems bright as those which Eastern Monarchs wear,

Hang on her breast and sparkle in her hair.

She but commands, and lo!--submissive Art

Is proud its curious labours to impart.

She but commands,--and eager Nature brings

The best and fairest of her offerings.

The distant Climates with each other vie,

Whate'er she wants or wishes, to supply.

The _North_ before her spreads his furry store;

The _South_ his golden sands and silver ore;

The sumptuous _East_ is anxious to display

Gems of the brightest hue and purest ray;

The _West_, by arts to other climes unknown, }

For her gives lustre to th' unpolish'd stone, }

And shapes the rugged gold with cunning all his own. }

Th' obedient _Seasons_ bend to her controul,

Invert their course, and in new order roll.

The hoary _Winter_ to her wish doth bring

The scented blossoms of the balmy _Spring_;

The forward _Spring_ impatient doth disclose

The full-blown beauties of the _Summer_ Rose;

Th' encroaching _Summer_ robs th' _Autumnal_ fields

Of the rich fruitage which their bounty yields;

While _Autumn_ looks on _Winter_ with disdain,

And courts an union with the _Vernal Train_.

E'en _Time_ accords to her imperial sway;

She rules the Night, and she directs the Day.

But the glad Day affords her no delight;

She hates the Sun, and revels in the Night.

As she went on,--the gaudy carpet spread

Its velvet surface for her stately tread;

While the soft flute and animating lyre

Awake to rapture every fond desire. _Profusion_ follow'd,--for whose single meal,

Whole Hecatombs receive the Butcher's steel.

Next _Drunkenness_ roar'd forth the beastly strain,

And _Waste_ and _Riot_ closed the glutted Train.

And yet methought I saw, to them unseen,

Wan _Ruin_ stalk behind, with haggard mien,

Expecting instant prey;--and with him came

The angry _Fever_, whose insatiate flame

Drinks up the pure and purple streams of Life;

And every Disease that harbours strife

With mortal Natures.--Pallid, pining Care, }

Pain, griping Penury, with black Despair, }

And agonizing Death, in all his sable pomp, were there. }

Next _Melancholy_ came, with solemn pace;

A purple veil o'er-spread her moisten'd face.

And now she fix'd her eyes upon the ground;

Now with dejected air, she turn'd around,

As if to view the sad approaching Train,

Degraded by unfeeling FOLLY'S chain.

Pale _Science_ follow'd;--to the sky she bore

Her fasten'd looks, as eager to explore

Some great design; nor did she seem to hear

The cruel scoffings, and th' insulting sneer,

Of brazen Ignorance and her foul-mouth'd crew,

Who at the Holy Maid their venom threw.

Grave _Wisdom_, next, with wrinkled brow appear'd,

White was his head, and white his flowing beard.

By the right hand _Religion_'s self he led;

Who, as she pass'd along, devoutly read

In that _Celestial Book_, whose sacred page

Shall pass unhurt through every distant Age.

Meek _Resignation_ with her Mistress came,

And gentle _Patience_, and unsullied _Fame_:

Onward they went, nor fear'd the assailing cry

Of frontless _Vice_ and barking _Calumny_.

I mourn'd the piteous fight, and curs'd the hour

When FOLLY first assum'd her fatal power:

And much I sorrow'd that she dare maintain

The shameful show of her fantastic reign.

But as I wip'd away the silent tears,

With rout and revelry the QUEEN appears.

On a gay car the painted _Mischief_ rode,--

Her pride a _Feather_, and her grace a _Nod_.

A flaunting, party-colour'd vest she wore,

With many a glittering star bespangled o'er.

Upon her cap, in order, plac'd around,

The bells send forth an emblematic sound.

Her right-hand did a wooden sword embrace,

Known to the Chiefs of _Pantomimic_ Race;

Whose magic powers, to please a silly Age,

She first encourag'd on the _British_ Stage;

And, driving _Sense_ and _Reason_ to despair,

Her _duteous Delegates_ continue there.

Her eyes no penetrating gleam betray'd,

Upon her face no gentle graces play'd.

The _Harlot_'s smile,--the _Ideot_'s vacant stare,

And _Baby_ vehemence, were blended there.

An _Ostrich_ drew the gilded weight along,

Whose harness'd plumage charm'd th' admiring Throng.

Methought I saw her from the car descend,

While her surrounding vot'ries lowly bend;

And, with loud, pealing bursts of laughter, own

Their Monarch seated on her _Annual Throne_.

And now, in crowds, press'd through the yielding doors,

High Lords, deep Statesmen, Dutchesses, and Whores;

All ranks and stations, Publicans and Peers,

Grooms, Lawyers, Fiddlers, Bawds, and Auctioneers;

Prudes and Coquettes, the Ugly and the Fair,

The Pert, the Prim, the Dull, the Debonnair;

The Weak, the Strong, the Humble and the Proud,

All help'd to form the motley, mingled Crowd.

With curious eye, attentive I survey'd

Each busy Figure of the Masquerade.

A Mask it might be call'd, tho', free from shame,

All shew'd their Faces, and each told his Name.

For FOLLY's presence spoils the attractive grace

That plays around the most bewitching face.

Where'er she reigns, beneath her magic sway

Each charm, each envied beauty melts away.

Where'er she governs, WISDOM will descry

In the fair form a foul deformity. --There tottering Old Age essay'd to prance

With feeble feet, and join'd th' imperfect dance.

There supercilious Youth assum'd the air

And reverend grace which hoary Sages wear.

There I beheld full many a youthful Maid,

Like colts for sale to public view display'd,

Shew off their shapes and ply their happiest art,

While the old Mother acts the Jockey's part;

Who, well-instructed in the World's great School,

Knows how to trap the rich and noble Fool.

Bold Prostitution look'd with downcast eye,

And veil'd her painted cheeks with modesty;

While wedded Dames a bold demeanour wear,

And think their eyes resistless when they stare.

The shameless Gamester shook the loaded die, }

Nor fear'd the Stripling's unsuspecting eye, }

That knows not to discern th' approaching ruin nigh. }

Old powerless _S----_ still essay'd to charm

The Whore that dangled on the Dotard's arm.

Bold _P----_ made Appointments with the Fair,

Certain he should not meet his _Countess_ there.

Pale _G----_, as he stroll'd about to chuse

Some _unbroke Filly_ for his favourite _Meuse_,

Where faithful _W----n_ for his ---- _ship's gain_,

With pliant hand breaks in th' unruly Train,

Fix'd on his _frisky Wife_,--and, in her eye,

Saw the _mild beams of artless Modesty_. --There _H----'s Countess_ views the _ducal Heir_, }

With silent caution does the toils prepare, }

And with her _raw-bon'd_ Daughters baits the _snare_. }

The wretched _B---- sneaks_ behind to wait

The doubtful progress of his _S----r's fate_.[a]

The Maiden's Piety,--the boasted smiles

Of Royal Favour, and the secret wiles

Of hoary Artifice, at length, succeed;

And _the flow_[b] _L----_ to the Altar lead. --There filly D---- mourn'd, in briny floods,

His lessen'd Household, and diminish'd Woods.

Thus as I gaz'd,--the Hautbois shrieking sound,

With swelling Clarions through the Dome resound;

And, in brisk, airy, measure, lightly play

A Prelude to the business of the day.

The Music ceas'd--and, in a treble tone,

Thus spake the Royal Puppet on the Throne:

"Ye High, ye Low,--ye Vulgar and ye Peers!

Ye youthful Dames, and you of riper Years!

Ye longing Maids, who heave the midnight sigh

Beneath the burthen of Virginity!

Or you, ye stray'd ones, who, unblushing, boast

Your Virtue sullied, and your Honour lost!

Ye _Pidgeons_, who hold forth the Golden Plume

For Knaves to pluck, and Harlots to consume!

Ye wedded Fair, who, splenetic at home,

Think it the duty of a Wife to roam!

Ye Husbands, from whose cold neglect proceeds

The Cuckold sproutings of your aching heads!

Ye _City Wights_, who feel it pride to trace

The faded manners of St. JAMES'S PLACE,

'Till with imperial deeds you blend your fame,

And ROYAL GAZETTES propagate your Name!

Ye blazing Patriots who of Freedom boast,

'Till in a gaol your Liberties are lost!

Ye Noble Fair, who, _satisfied with Show_,

Court the light, frothy flatteries of a _Beau_!

Ye high-born Peers, whose ardor to excel,

Grows from the beauties of some modish _Belle_!

Ye jocund Crowd, of every degree,

Welcome, thrice welcome, to this place and me! --Haste--on the Altar your best offerings leave;

And, in return, my favouring smiles receive!

First let the PEERAGE come:--'tis my decree

To pay all Honours to _Precedency_."

At her command, the pressing Crowds retreat:

When D----, uprising from her feat,

With careless gesture to the Altar moves.

Then _Virtue_ shriek'd,--and all the _Laughing Loves_

That play'd around, droop'd instant with dismay,

And spread their wings, and, weeping, fled away!

The Noble Dame her offering now prepares.--

A Father's counsels, and a Mother's cares.

Upon the Altar's gilded surface lie,

With winning grace, and sweet simplicity;

The gay, yet decent, look; the modest air,

Which loves the brow of Youth, and triumphs there;

The power to give delight, devoid of art,

Which stole unconscious o'er the Lover's heart;

The wish to bless, with all those Virgin charms

Which heighten'd rapture in a Husband's arms;

Each infant friendship, each domestic care,

Each elevated thought was offer'd there.

Nor did the _lavish Votary_ deny

One solid charm,--but chilling Chastity.

Enraptur'd FOLLY bless'd the lucky hour

That gave so fair a subject to her power.

Nor did the long delay, with circling hand,

To wave around the Fair her magic wand.

When, lo!--the sudden Plumes her temples grac'd;

The yielding Stays sink downwards to the waist;

And, strange to tell, her rosy lips dispense _Double-entendres_ and Impertinence.

Throughout the Hall a loud applause was heard,

Nor ceas'd till D----'s airy form appear'd.

No common offering she seem'd to bear;

Connubial tenderness,--the watchful care

Which tender Infants from their Mothers claim,

The sage demeanor, and the blameless name

In which High Life should ever be array'd,

Her steady hand upon the Altar laid.

The Queen with laughter loud her joy exprest,

And, strait, I saw the giddy _Countess_ drest

In Infant's garb, and like an Infant smil'd;

The Parent now was sunk into the Child.

The rattle pleas'd it, and the painted toy;

Awhile the trifles charm, but soon they cloy.

Anon she cries,--for some new play distrest,

'Till FETES CHAMPETRES hush it into rest.

Next B---- was seen, whose sprightly eye

Beam'd with the pertness of Vivacity.

To the gay shrine the wanton Fair proceeds,

And, smiling, offers up her Widow's weeds.

Here E----'s chaste vows, and proffer'd love,

With _Hymeneal_ garlands interwove,

And injur'd D----'s unavailing sighs,

Together form an ample sacrifice.

Delighted FOLLY wav'd her pow'rful wand!

A sprightly figure came at her command;

Its face of GALLIC mould and sallow hue.

And o'er his shoulder hung the _Cordon Bleu_.

Up-rose the QUEEN.--"My favourite Prince, she cried,

To me and to my House so near allied,

To you I shall resign no common care:

Beneath your wing I place a favourite Fair.

Regardless of her Children's growing years,

Deaf to their prattle, heedless of their tears;

Tir'd of her native land, and pleasant home,

On foreign shores she languishes to roam;

In foreign Courts to play coquettish arts,

And dart her lightnings into foreign hearts.

Yours is the Court where she would wish to shine;

And where's the heart so soon inflam'd as thine?"

She spoke.--They heard their Mistress with delight;

When, in a cloud, she veil'd them from my sight.

The painted A----, who appear'd once more,

To do what she'd so often done before,

Approach'd the Altar, to deposite there

Each thought, each action of the finish'd year.

Alone the Lady came,--alone return'd;

None joy'd her presence,--none her absence mourn'd.

Next M---- came, whose pleasing looks disclose

Charms which must soften her severest foes.

Plac'd by her hand upon the Altar, lie

Each _single Item of Oeconomy_;

While her good, easy Lord the rite survey'd,

And ratified the sacrifice she made.

Tho' small the Offering seem'd, in truth, 'twas great;

It was the Fragment of his vast Estate.

E'en FOLLY saw their gay career must end,

But, for their duties past, now prov'd their friend;

And gave a Book that teaches the repair

Of ruin'd Fortunes _in a foreign Air_.

But now advanc'd a melancholy Train:--

In plaintive notes the breathing flutes complain.

And lo! the sorrowing D---- then succeeds,

In all the mournful pomp of Widows' weeds.

I heard her loud lament and bitter moan,

Not for a Husband, but a Title gone.

Close by her side I saw the _illustrious_ Dame

Whom Wits the _Modern Messalina_ name;

Who whisper'd comfort to the mourning Fair,

And told of joys which blooming Widows share;

Whose easy life no haughty ruler knows;

Who, when th' awaken'd passion wanton grows,

May, where her fancy leads, allay the flame,

Nor fear a husband's threats or ruin'd fame.

'Twas thus the BELDAME counsel'd; nor in vain

Did she pour forth th' admonitory strain.

The weeping Fair before the Altar stood,

In all the dignity of Widowhood.

First, from her eyes she wip'd away the tears;

And then the solemn offering prepares. --Connubial love,--the Altar's sacred tie,-- }

Pure thoughts, chaste words, and many a tender sigh }

Which issued from the breast of virtuous A----ry; }

With golden prospects, and a future claim

To the fair glories of a titled name;

All these, in order plac'd, bedeck the shrine. --Ill-fated D---- for they once were thine!

Of all this precious treasure nought remains,

But the sad remnant of a Mother's pains.

Then spoke the Queen.--"Fair Dame, dispel your fears,

And stop the fruitless current of your tears!

Tho' Friends may prove unkind, all are not gone;

Still there remains the _virtuous H----ton_:

Nor shall the wedded H---- faithless prove,

Or quite forget the proofs of _former Love_.

Ne'er shall you more lament the name of Wife;

The Widow's joys will crown your future life."

Next filly _V----rs_, who once had by heart

Each _golden rule_ her _Mother_ could impart;

But since, escap'd from the Maternal School,

Soon learn'd to break through every _golden rule_,[c]

With her the weeping, whining D---- came,

And the _repentant_ L----'s tasteless Dame.

To these an idle, giggling Train succeed,

Of various figure and as various breed--

Whose mingled faces I had never seen--

Eager to pay their duties to the Queen.

And now before the Shrine, promiscuous, lie

The Morning Blame, the Evening Flattery;

Sonnets, and Sighs, and Garlands from the Grove,

With all the soft Artillery of Love;

Lampoons and Ballads, Jealousies, Alarms,

And all the shafts which blast a Rival's charms;

Volumes of false Reports the Altar load,

Brought up from squint-eyed _Scandal_'s dark abode:

And having yielded their accustom'd sport,

Are duly register'd in FOLLY'S COURT.

Now shoals of Damsels to the place repair,

To sacrifice their reputations there;

While others, careful of their own good name,

Give to the gaping crowd a neighbour's fame.

FOLLY, well-pleas'd, the varied heap survey'd

Of _Female Offerings_ before her laid,

And wav'd her wand:--The Altar disappears;

But strait, at her command, another rears

Its _silver_ base, whose firm, compacted mould

Beam'd with the splendor of contrasted gold;

And many a beauty shew'd, with strength to bear

The _weighty_ tributes to be offer'd there.

Before it stood a modest, blooming Peer,

Who bow'd with easy grace, and offer'd there

Some fine-spun Verses which he never wrote,

Some worthy Speeches which he spoke by rote:

For thus I heard surrounding tongues rehearse, "H---- wrote the Speeches, H---- composed the Verse."

And soon amid the mingled heap there lay

The blasted wishes for _Hibernian_ sway.

And here he sigh'd, and, as I thought, a tear

Rose in his sullen eye, but linger'd there;

When FOLLY, pointing to the splendid show

Of _Star_ and _Ribbon_ that bedeck'd the Beau, "For shame, my Lord, she cried, your doubtings cease!

With such a wish and such a power to please,

As you possess--Oh think not of the strife

And labours of the Politician's life!

Let _heavy Carlo_ feel the toilsome fate

That doth on fruitless Opposition wait!

Let _clumsy_ NORTH, unenvied, still preside

O'er Britain's welfare, and her Counsels guide!

Let _purblind_ GRANTHAM strive, in soothing strain,

To calm the fury of revengeful SPAIN!

Let _gentle_ STORMONT threat intriguing FRANCE!

You shine, my Lord, _unrival'd in the dance_.

'Tis yours, with nimble step and graceful air,

In measur'd mazes, to delight the Fair.

Of all the various arts, how few are known

To gain an excellence in more than one.

What real praises then become your due!

For who can DRESS and DANCE so well as you!"

She ceas'd:--In minuet step my Lord retired;

To higher _Entre-Chats_ he now aspir'd:

Then, capering as he went, he hasten'd home,

To plan with St----r Triumphs yet to come.

Now hoary S---- near the Throne appears,

Bent with the follies of full three-score years.

These, heap on heap, the solid Altar grace:

When FOLLY, sighing, mourn'd his wrinkled face;

And thus in words of consolation spoke:-- "Fear not, my aged Child, the impending stroke

Of loit'ring Fate, which soon may cut in twain }

Thy cable's dwindled strength, and feeble chain, }

And set thy bark afloat upon th' Eternal Main! }

Fear not; but still indulge thy wanton hours,

And strew thy wint'ry path with vernal flowers.

How long thine hours may last, I cannot say;

FOLLY ne'er sees beyond _the present day_.

And should Old Time, with subtle art, delude

Thy feebled Age into decrepitude;

Still on thy crutches sing, and dance, and play,

And gild the close of Life's short Holiday!

No _second Childhood_ can my S---- wear;

The _first_ yet boasts an incomplete career.

Amid the duties of maturer age,

The playful Child was blended with the Sage;

And e'en th' important labours of the State,

The secret Councils, and the deep Debate,

Have oft been left unfinished, to enjoy

Some childish pastime, or some fangled toy,

Then fear not,--tho' thy years are almost past, _My friendly Ray_ shall chear you to the last."

Now on the Altar, reeling, W---- lays

The expectations of his early days;

And talents which, improv'd by GRANVILLE'S care,

Promis'd a ripe and plenteous crop to bear

Of golden Virtues. But his care was vain:

With these were mingled the accursed bane

Of noble deeds, fell instruments of Vice,

The treacherous Cards and desolating Dice,

Which forc'd the noble Gamester, for support,

To claim the mercies of a pitying Court.

The flatter'd Queen beheld, with laughing eye,

The Offerings of her faithful Votary;

And, in return, she gave a Scroll, which bore

On its smooth face the _trusty_ name of H----,

And other monied Wights, who boast to reign

O'er L----'s flow'ry lawns and proud domain:

Which when he saw, for WINE he call'd aloud,

And stagger'd onward through the yielding Croud.

But, as I look'd, methought, beneath the gate,

Counting her dropping tears, REPENTANCE sat:

And as the giddy Votaries return'd,

They caught her sorrows, and their follies mourn'd.

Bold M---- offer'd up his patriot zeal,

And flaming Harangues for BRITANNIA'S weal;

And _Oaths_[d] by which he swore to stem the tide

Of Courtly Sway and Ministerial Pride;

Which thro' the ecchoing Isle were frequent heard,

When he a _Northern Candidate appear'd_.

But FOLLY gave him, with satiric look,

A _Dispensation_ from the Oaths he took;

Suspicious that, the patriot frenzy o'er,

These pious _Swearings_ had been _broke before_.

Smiles that ne'er pleas'd, and words as light as air,

Which scarce could claim regard from FOLLY'S ear;

O'er-weening arts, which, tho' in smiles array'd,

By base-born fears have ever been betray'd;

A few fair deeds, whose merit has been lost

In _selfish_ ends, or _Pharisaic_ boast;

Soft, gentle Phrases, and meek, smiling Lies,

Which could not veil his bare hypocrisies;

Dull hours of _Courtship_ with the _unwilling_ Fair,

Who wonder'd _rosy Love was never there_;

Curses pour'd forth upon the nuptial hour,

Which sadly _fail'd him of the expected Dower_[e];

All these and more the splendid Shrine display'd,

By B----'s trembling hand with caution laid.

Now FOLLY frown'd, _who had not frown'd before_;

And, as I thought, in her right hand she bore

A Parchment Scroll, which strait she downward threw,

For the pale, timorous Lordling to review.

A Will it seem'd;--and soon, with weeping eye,

He told aloud _th' omitted Legacy_[f].

Then_ FOLLY _titter'd_[g], and the joyful Croud

Burst forth in laughing shouts so shrill and loud,

The affrighted vision fled in haste away,

And my glad eyes beheld the chearful day.