The Dance of Life A Poem, by the author of "Doctor Syntax;%" [i.e. William Combe] Illustrated with coloured engravings, by Thomas Rowlandson |
 |
|
| I. |
THE NURSE'S SOLILOQUY. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
 | CHAPTER I. INFANCY. The Dance of Life |  |
THE NURSE'S SOLILOQUY.
“Sweet Baby, sweet!—The joy I prove“Is equal to a parent's love:
“For ah, those days I've not forgot,
“When it was my envied lot,
“Array'd in all her infant charms,
“To dance my Lady in these arms:
“But now she is a mother grown,
“And calls this bantling dear her own.
“In that same cradle, many a day,
“I've seen her stretch her arms and play;
“There have I sat, with watchful eye,
“And sooth'd her with my lullaby.
“With the same voice her pains beguil'd
“As I calm thine—thou lovely child!
14
“Was sweetest music to my ear.
“—As time fled on, my nurseling grew
“Delightful to each gazer's view;
“And like the Summer's fairest flower,
“Encreas'd in beauty ev'ry hour;
“While goodness as we all can tell,
“Within her bosom seem'd to dwell.
“—Though I was humble, and was poor,
“She oft came to my cottage door.—
“‘I'm come, dear Nurse,’ she'd say, ‘to know
“If you want ought I can bestow:
“For, you may trust me, while I live,
“You shall want nothing I can give.’
“Then she would sit and chat awhile,
“And make my little dwelling smile.
“I bless'd the day when she was wed;
“I saw her to the altar led,
“By the rich Knight, whose power commands
“The wide extent of neighb'ring lands,
“Who then, his added wealth to crown,
“Could call those matchless charms his own.
15
“That play'd upon her lovely face:
“I thought an angel's form was seen,
“As she was led across the Green.
“Her flowing train with 'broidery bound,
“Of spangled silver swept the ground;
“And, as she mov'd with solemn tread,
“The proud plumes wav'd upon her head:
“White roses dress'd her bosom bare
“With opening leaves, but not so fair.
“—The maidens cull'd, at early day,
“Each flower, to deck the bridal way,
“With which wild nature clothes the fields,
“Or the well-cultur'd garden yields:
“All clad in white, their sweets they strow,
“And onward march'd, a pretty show;
“While the gay morrice-dancers bound
“As their feet give the tinkling sound.
“My kind, good man—but he is gone,
“And his head rests beneath a stone,
“Bore a fine streaming flag, which he
“Brought home, when he came last from sea.
16
“The well-won prize from hostile shore.
“—Full many a 'Squire and Lady fair
“Attended on the nuptial pair:
“On their fine clothes the sun-beams shone;
“Twas a grand sight to look upon!
“Our village such a noble train
“Ne'er saw before, nor will again.
“—In the church porch I took my stand,
“When the Bride smil'd and gave her hand,
“And thus address'd me as she pass'd:
“‘Dear Nurse, you've got your wish at last;’
“For in my talk, I us'd to say,
“I wish'd to see her wedding-day.
“O how the village steeple rung:
“What pleasure heard from ev'ry tongue!
“The may-pole was with garlands gay,
“The shepherd sung his roundelay;
“And many a maid and many a swain
“Forgot the labours of the plain.
“'Twas pleasure sure without alloy;—
“One chorus then of gen'ral joy.
17
“And nimble feet obey'd the sound;
“But in their joys I did not join
“Though they could never equal mine:
“With the white knot upon my breast
“I sigh'd, though on a day so blest.
“Then did I to my cottage go,
“And let the stream of pleasure flow:
“Never, from sorrow or from care,
“(And I, 'tis true, have had my share),
“Did on my cheeks such water fall,
“As on that happy Festival.
“For how, alas, my bosom bled
“When I beheld a daughter dead:
“When my affection could not save
“The best of husbands from the grave.
“But still, I had been taught to know
“That Life is mix'd with joy and woe;
“And, in the share that they are given,
“We ought to read the Will of Heaven.
“I then preferr'd my humble prayer
“For blessings on the honour'd pair;
18
“With the rich fruit of virtuous Love.
“I knew e'en such a prayer as mine
“Might reach the goodness all divine:
“Yes—it was heard, I plainly see:
“Yes, lovely Babe—it gave them thee.
“Oh, if kind Heaven, my Life would spare,
“To make a child of thine my care,
“No more I'd ask—but to be laid
“Beneath the church-yard yew-tree's shade.”
| CHAPTER I. INFANCY. The Dance of Life | |