Poetical Works of Johnson, Parnell, Gray, and Smollett Part 23

'What is grandeur, what is power?

Heavier toil, superior pain, What the bright reward we gain?

The grateful memory of the good. 60 Sweet is the breath of vernal shower, The bee's collected treasures sweet, Sweet Music's melting fall, but sweeter yet The still small voice of Grat.i.tude.'

VI.

Foremost, and leaning from her golden cloud, The venerable Margaret[8] see!

'Welcome, my n.o.ble son!' she cries aloud, 'To this thy kindred train, and me: Pleased, in thy lineaments we trace A Tudor's[9] fire, a Beaufort's grace. 70 Thy liberal heart, thy judging eye, The flower unheeded shall descry, And bid it round Heaven's altars shed The fragrance of its blus.h.i.+ng head; Shall raise from earth the latent gem To glitter on the diadem.

VII.

'Lo! Granta waits to lead her blooming band; Not obvious, not obtrusive, she No vulgar praise, no venal incense flings; Nor dares with courtly tongue refined 80 Profane thy inborn royalty of mind: She reveres herself and thee.

With modest pride, to grace thy youthful brow, The laureate wreath[10] that Cecil wore she brings, And to thy just, thy gentle hand Submits the fasces of her sway; While spirits blest above, and men below, Join with glad voice the loud symphonious lay.

VIII.

'Through the wild waves, as they roar, With watchful eye, and dauntless mien, 90 Thy steady course of honour keep, Nor fear the rock, nor seek the sh.o.r.e: The Star of Brunswick smiles serene, And gilds the horrors of the deep.'

[Footnote 1: 'Music:' performed in the Senate-house, Cambridge, July 1, 1769, at the installation of his Grace, Augustus Henry Fitzroy, Duke of Grafton, Chancellor of the University.]

[Footnote 2: 'Great Edward.' Edward III., who added the Fleur-de-lis of France to the arms of England. He founded Trinity College.]

[Footnote 3: 'Chatillon:' Mary de Valentia, Countess of Pembroke, daughter of Guy de Chatillon, Comte de St Paul, in France, who lost her husband on the day of his marriage. She was the foundress of Pembroke College or Hall, under the name of Aula Marias de Valentia.]

[Footnote 4; 'Clare:' Elizabeth de Burg, Countess of Clare, was wife of John de Burg, son and heir of the Earl of Ulster, and daughter of Gilbert de Clare, Earl of Gloucester, by Joan of Acres, daughter of Edward I.; hence the poet gives her the epithet of 'princely.' She founded Clare Hall.]

[Footnote 5: 'Anjou's heroine:' Margaret of Anjou, wife of Henry VI., foundress of Queen's College.]

[Footnote 6: 'Rose:' Elizabeth Widville, wife of Henry IV. She added to the foundation of Margaret of Anjou.]

[Footnote 7: 'Either Henry:' Henry VI. and Henry VII., the former the founder of King's, the latter the greatest benefactor to Trinity College.]

[Footnote 8: 'Margaret:' Countess of Richmond and Derby, the mother of Henry VII., foundress of St John's and Christ's Colleges.]

[Footnote 9: 'Tudor:' the Countess was a Beaufort, and married to a Tudor; hence the application of this line to the Duke of Grafton, who claimed descent from both these families.]

[Footnote 10: 'Wreath:' Lord Treasurer Burleigh was Chancellor of the University in the reign of Queen Elizabeth.]

MISCELLANEOUS.

A LONG STORY.

ADVERTIs.e.m.e.nT.--Gray's 'Elegy,' previous to its publication, was handed about in MS., and had, amongst other admirers, the Lady Cobham, who resided in the mansion-house at Stoke-Pogeis. The performance inducing her to wish for the author's acquaintance, Lady Schaub and Miss Speed, then at her house, undertook to introduce her to it. These two ladies waited upon the author at his aunt's solitary habitation, where he at that time resided, and not finding him at home, they left a card behind them. Mr Gray, surprised at such a compliment, returned the visit; and as the beginning of this intercourse bore some appearance of romance, he gave the humorous and lively account of it which the 'Long Story' contains.

1 In Britain's isle, no matter where, An ancient pile of building[1] stands: The Huntingdons and Hattons there Employ'd the power of fairy hands,

2 To raise the ceiling's fretted height, Each pannel in achievements clothing, Rich windows that exclude the light, And pa.s.sages that lead to nothing.

3 Full oft within the s.p.a.cious walls, When he had fifty winters o'er him, My grave Lord-Keeper[2] led the brawls: The seal and maces danced before him.

4 His bushy beard and shoe-strings green, His high-crown'd hat and satin doublet, Moved the stout heart of England's Queen, Though Pope and Spaniard could not trouble it.

5 What, in the very first beginning, Shame of the versifying tribe!

Your history whither are you spinning?

Can you do nothing but describe?

6 A house there is (and that's enough) From whence one fatal morning issues A brace of warriors, not in buff, But rustling in their silks and tissues.

7 The first came _cap-a-pie_ from France, Her conquering destiny fulfilling, Whom meaner beauties eye askance, And vainly ape her art of killing.

8 The other Amazon kind Heaven Had arm'd with spirit, wit, and satire; But Cobham had the polish given, And tipp'd her arrows with good nature.

9 To celebrate her eyes, her air-- Coa.r.s.e panegyrics would but tease her; Melissa is her _nom de guerre;_ Alas! who would not wish to please her!

10 With bonnet blue and capuchine, And ap.r.o.ns long, they hid their armour; And veil'd their weapons, bright and keen, In pity to the country farmer.

11 Fame, in the shape of Mr P--t, (By this time all the parish know it), Had told that thereabouts there lurk'd A wicked imp they call a Poet,

12 Who prowl'd the country far and near, Bewitch'd the children of the peasants, Dried up the cows, and lamed the deer, And suck'd the eggs, and kill'd the pheasants.

13 My Lady heard their joint pet.i.tion, Swore by her coronet and ermine, She'd issue out her high commission To rid the manor of such vermin.

14 The heroines undertook the task; Through lanes unknown, o'er stiles they ventured, Rapp'd at the door, nor stay'd to ask, But bounce into the parlour enter'd.

15 The trembling family they daunt; They flirt, they sing, they laugh, they tattle, Rummage his mother, pinch his aunt, And up-stairs in a whirlwind rattle.

16 Each hole and cupboard they explore, Each creek and cranny of his chamber, Run hurry-scurry round the floor, And o'er the bed and tester clamber;

17 Into the drawers and china pry, Papers and books, a huge imbroglio!

Under a tea-cup he might lie, Or creased like dog's-ears in a folio!

18 On the first marching of the troops, The Muses, hopeless of his pardon, Convey'd him underneath their hoops To a small closet in the garden.

19 So Rumour says; (who will believe?) But that they left the door a-jar, Where safe, and laughing in his sleeve, He heard the distant din of war.

20 Short was his joy: he little knew The power of magic was no fable; Out of the window, whisk! they flew, But left a spell upon the table.

21 The words too eager to unriddle, The Poet felt a strange disorder; Transparent birdlime form'd the middle, And chains invisible the border.

22 So cunning was the apparatus, The powerful pothooks did so move him, That will-he, nill-he, to the great house He went as if the devil drove him.

23 Yet on his way (no sign of grace, For folks in fear are apt to pray) To Phoebus he preferr'd his case, And begg'd his aid that dreadful day.

24 The G.o.dhead would have back'd his quarrel: But with a blush, on recollection, Own'd that his quiver and his laurel 'Gainst four such eyes were no protection.

25 The court was set, the culprit there; Forth from their gloomy mansions creeping, The Lady Janes and Joans repair, And from the gallery stand peeping: