The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] ... With a Copious Index. To which is prefixed Some Account of his Life. In Four Volumes |
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 | The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] |  |
95
CANTO V.
Now as he kiss'd her, on her neck
A golden cross he spied:—
‘Who gave thee this?’ the starting youth,
All fraught with wonder cried.
A golden cross he spied:—
‘Who gave thee this?’ the starting youth,
All fraught with wonder cried.
‘A young man gave me this,’ quoth she
(And then she dropp'd a tear),
‘A youth who won my heart away,
And still to me is dear.
(And then she dropp'd a tear),
‘A youth who won my heart away,
And still to me is dear.
‘But riches forc'd him from these arms;
And men do wealth adore;
And thus he left my heart to pine,
For I was rather poor.
And men do wealth adore;
And thus he left my heart to pine,
For I was rather poor.
‘A damsel of a great estate
Did steal his heart away;
At which I left my native vale,
For there I could not stay.
Did steal his heart away;
At which I left my native vale,
For there I could not stay.
‘For who can stand the scoffs and jeers
That bitter flow like gall:
So when I lost my sweetheart's love,
Alas! I lost my all.
That bitter flow like gall:
So when I lost my sweetheart's love,
Alas! I lost my all.
‘Where now he lives, God only knows;
Five years it is and more,
That here in Hampshire I have dwelt,
And here my loss deplore.
Five years it is and more,
That here in Hampshire I have dwelt,
And here my loss deplore.
96
‘Methought, sir, when the mug of beer
This very night I drew,
That Orson, whom I thought my own,
Did much resemble you.
This very night I drew,
That Orson, whom I thought my own,
Did much resemble you.
‘My heart so beat, my head turn'd round;
My eyes both misty taken—
I almost dropp'd the frying-pan,
With all the eggs and bacon.’
My eyes both misty taken—
I almost dropp'd the frying-pan,
With all the eggs and bacon.’
‘My Ellen sweet,’ the youth replied,
And hugg'd her to his heart;
‘Behold that Orson thou hast lost,
And we will never part.
And hugg'd her to his heart;
‘Behold that Orson thou hast lost,
And we will never part.
‘I am not married—no, my dear;
To marry I am free;
And I have search'd half England through,
To gaze again on thee.
To marry I am free;
And I have search'd half England through,
To gaze again on thee.
‘But thou wert gone the Lord knows where,
And wert not to be found;
But all the neighbours said with sighs
Thou certainly wert drown'd.’
And wert not to be found;
But all the neighbours said with sighs
Thou certainly wert drown'd.’
‘O Orson dear,’ the maid replied,
‘And am I in thy arms?’
‘Thou art, thou art,’ the youth rejoin'd—
And closely press'd her charms.
‘And am I in thy arms?’
‘Thou art, thou art,’ the youth rejoin'd—
And closely press'd her charms.
‘How was't I knew thee not?’ quoth she—
Quoth he, ‘I wasn't so big;
And now thou seest I wear my hair,
And then I wore a wig.’
Quoth he, ‘I wasn't so big;
And now thou seest I wear my hair,
And then I wore a wig.’
‘Ah me! I recollect,’ quoth she,
‘Full well thy natty bob;
And then I only wore my hair,
And now I wear a mob.’
‘Full well thy natty bob;
And then I only wore my hair,
And now I wear a mob.’
‘Sweet Ellen,’ cry'd the raptur'd youth,
‘The reason now is plain—
The mob and ribbon are the cause
I knew thee not again.
‘The reason now is plain—
The mob and ribbon are the cause
I knew thee not again.
97
‘I think that thou art taller grown
Thy shape's so nice and clever;
And without compliment thou art
A prettier girl than ever.
Thy shape's so nice and clever;
And without compliment thou art
A prettier girl than ever.
‘Landlord, behold the girl for whom
I've hunted round and round.’
‘Gadsbob,’ cried Boniface, ‘what luck!
The lost sheep then is found.’
I've hunted round and round.’
‘Gadsbob,’ cried Boniface, ‘what luck!
The lost sheep then is found.’
To tell the joys of both their hearts,
Would puzzle my poor pen;
But lo, they kiss'd, and sigh'd, and kiss'd,
And kiss'd and sigh'd agen.
Would puzzle my poor pen;
But lo, they kiss'd, and sigh'd, and kiss'd,
And kiss'd and sigh'd agen.
And now they did a sixpence break,
In plight of mutual troth;
While Boniface, with happy looks,
Did smile upon them both.
In plight of mutual troth;
While Boniface, with happy looks,
Did smile upon them both.
‘well, now, good folks,’ quoth Boniface,
‘I'll leave you, if ye choose,
To tell your tale, while I go take
A comfortable snooze.’
‘I'll leave you, if ye choose,
To tell your tale, while I go take
A comfortable snooze.’
Thus having said, Old Boniface
March'd, hobbling, off to bed;
And put a good red night-cap on,
Of yarn, about his head.
March'd, hobbling, off to bed;
And put a good red night-cap on,
Of yarn, about his head.
Night-caps of different stuff are made:
Of different colours, too—
Of flannel, and of cotton some;
Some yellow, and some blue.
Of different colours, too—
Of flannel, and of cotton some;
Some yellow, and some blue.
Sleep is an article we want,
Although it looks like death;
Since all from mortals seem retir'd,
Except it be the breath.
Although it looks like death;
Since all from mortals seem retir'd,
Except it be the breath.
How often have I said and thought,
Lost in reflection deep,
‘What pity 'tis, since life's so short,
To spend one half in sleep!
Lost in reflection deep,
‘What pity 'tis, since life's so short,
To spend one half in sleep!
98
‘But then,’ quoth I unto myself,
‘Sleep calms the folks that fret;
Is kind to souls with hungry maws,
And people much in debt.
‘Sleep calms the folks that fret;
Is kind to souls with hungry maws,
And people much in debt.
‘Nay, sleep has this advantage too,
It goodly feasts doth make;
And furnisheth rare food in dreams
We cannot find awake.’
It goodly feasts doth make;
And furnisheth rare food in dreams
We cannot find awake.’
Now Orson with his Ellen sat,
The damsel on his knee;
No loving couple in the world
Were blest like he and she.
The damsel on his knee;
No loving couple in the world
Were blest like he and she.
And now they smil'd and told old tales
That happen'd when they courted;
Together when to fairs they went,
And danc'd, and play'd, and sported.
That happen'd when they courted;
Together when to fairs they went,
And danc'd, and play'd, and sported.
Time stole most happily away!
While Boniface, above,
Lay senseless snoring, they below,
Alive were making love.
While Boniface, above,
Lay senseless snoring, they below,
Alive were making love.
Now morning from her clouded east
Did through the window peep
Upon the playful loving pair,
Whose eyes look'd not for sleep.
Did through the window peep
Upon the playful loving pair,
Whose eyes look'd not for sleep.
For they were otherwise employed
In oggling soft desire;
In telling stories of the heart,
And fanning Love's sweet fire.
In oggling soft desire;
In telling stories of the heart,
And fanning Love's sweet fire.
Their eyelids did not once pick straws,
And wink and sink away;
No, no, they were as brisk as bees,
And amorous things did say.
And wink and sink away;
No, no, they were as brisk as bees,
And amorous things did say.
For eyes are eloquent, though mute:
They speak all sorts of tongues;
Such very cunning things are eyes—
Such pow'r to them belongs.
They speak all sorts of tongues;
Such very cunning things are eyes—
Such pow'r to them belongs.
99
Now Ellen unto Orson said,
‘Retire, my friend, to rest;
Thou with thy journey must be tir'd,
And I will seek my nest.’
‘Retire, my friend, to rest;
Thou with thy journey must be tir'd,
And I will seek my nest.’
‘Ah, Ellen, I feel no fatigue,’
Said Orson, with a smile;
‘I am this moment fesh as though
I had not rid a mile.
Said Orson, with a smile;
‘I am this moment fesh as though
I had not rid a mile.
‘'Tis thou hast giv'n me spirits gay,
And made my heart so light;
Well, Ellen, now I think 'tis time
Indeed to bid good night.’
And made my heart so light;
Well, Ellen, now I think 'tis time
Indeed to bid good night.’
And now he took her in his arms,
And said, ‘Good night, my dear;’
When Ellen said ‘Good night’ agen,
And dropp'd the tenderest tear.
And said, ‘Good night, my dear;’
When Ellen said ‘Good night’ agen,
And dropp'd the tenderest tear.
It was a tear—a precious tear,
More worth than di'monds bright;
For love and friendship form'd the drop,
That charm'd young Orson's sight.
More worth than di'monds bright;
For love and friendship form'd the drop,
That charm'd young Orson's sight.
As down her cheek this pearl did flow,
Young Orson, mad with bliss,
Quick to her cheek his lips applied,
And caught it with a kiss.
Young Orson, mad with bliss,
Quick to her cheek his lips applied,
And caught it with a kiss.
Then gallantly the young man said,
And swore of oaths a round—
‘That pearl of thine, my lovely girl,
Shall never kiss the ground.
And swore of oaths a round—
‘That pearl of thine, my lovely girl,
Shall never kiss the ground.
‘O dearest Ellen, mind my words,
And mind I tell thee true:
Wherever that bright gem had dropp'd,
The ground had been Peru.
And mind I tell thee true:
Wherever that bright gem had dropp'd,
The ground had been Peru.
‘But I will go, since 'tis thy wish:
My angel fair, good night;
Sweet dreams to thee, my only dear,
Aye, dreams of rich delight.’
My angel fair, good night;
Sweet dreams to thee, my only dear,
Aye, dreams of rich delight.’
100
‘Sweet dreams unto my friend also,
With sweetest smiles,’ said she;
‘Ah, then of Ellen I must dream,’
With gallantry said he.
With sweetest smiles,’ said she;
‘Ah, then of Ellen I must dream,’
With gallantry said he.
And now they both retir'd to rest,
Both bidding soft farewell;
And which was happiest in their dreams,
Is difficult to tell.
Both bidding soft farewell;
And which was happiest in their dreams,
Is difficult to tell.
Now Sol had mounted up the sky
A pair of yards at least,
When from their beds the couple sprung,
And very soon were drest.
A pair of yards at least,
When from their beds the couple sprung,
And very soon were drest.
To breakfast down they happy came,
With Boniface likewise;
Who stretch'd his limbs, and yawn'd, and gap'd,
And open'd both his eyes.
With Boniface likewise;
Who stretch'd his limbs, and yawn'd, and gap'd,
And open'd both his eyes.
For Boniface's eyes had long
The winks of Love forgot;
Preferring to the fairest maid,
A foaming pewter pot.
The winks of Love forgot;
Preferring to the fairest maid,
A foaming pewter pot.
To tea and toast down sat they all;
And not long after tarried—
Before they went before the priest,
And happily were married.
And not long after tarried—
Before they went before the priest,
And happily were married.
‘And now,’ said Boniface with glee,
‘You shall not go away;
A sumptuous dinner I will give
In honour of the day.’
‘You shall not go away;
A sumptuous dinner I will give
In honour of the day.’
Now goose and turkey came, and hare,
And apple-pie and custard;
And chicken and asparagus,
And Yorkshire ham and mustard.
And apple-pie and custard;
And chicken and asparagus,
And Yorkshire ham and mustard.
And friends invited to partake,
Did from the village come;
Of different ages were they all,
Some young, and aged some.
Did from the village come;
Of different ages were they all,
Some young, and aged some.
101
Within the house did mirth resound;
Without, with cheerful ray,
Sol pour'd his radiance on the roof,
And all the world was gay!
Without, with cheerful ray,
Sol pour'd his radiance on the roof,
And all the world was gay!
The chirping sparrows came in flocks,
And linnets with a tune;
And round in merry gambols flew,
To hail the honey-moon.
And linnets with a tune;
And round in merry gambols flew,
To hail the honey-moon.
The wrens delighted cock'd their tails,
And twitter'd many an air;
While redbreasts trilling through the panes,
Peep'd in upon the pair.
And twitter'd many an air;
While redbreasts trilling through the panes,
Peep'd in upon the pair.
And eke the pigeons, birds of love,
Did sport upon the thatch;
And coo'd and bill'd, and flapp'd their wings
In honour of the match.
Did sport upon the thatch;
And coo'd and bill'd, and flapp'd their wings
In honour of the match.
No happier hours were known—so swift
The moments took their flight;
'Twas laugh and song, and gibe and joke,
And stories of delight.
The moments took their flight;
'Twas laugh and song, and gibe and joke,
And stories of delight.
At night all slily from their friends
The couple stole away;
Which night, if I don't much mistake,
Was happier than the day.
The couple stole away;
Which night, if I don't much mistake,
Was happier than the day.
God prosper long the married state,
And give it every bliss!
And may we kiss the nymphs we please,
And please the nymphs we kiss!
And give it every bliss!
And may we kiss the nymphs we please,
And please the nymphs we kiss!
| The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] | |