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169
VERSES, WRITTEN IN 1785,
On STEPHEN RUTTER, an infirm old man, who formerly opened the gate at Colnbrook, for his Majesty and those travellers who went through Datchet to Windsor.
On the west road, which leads you down
To Bath, near Colnbrook's famous town,
Resides a man of low renown,
Yclep'd by all poor Stephen.
To Bath, near Colnbrook's famous town,
Resides a man of low renown,
Yclep'd by all poor Stephen.
In scanty ringlets, thinly spread,
The silver locks fall round his head,
And tacitly demand the bread,
Implor'd by honest Stephen.
The silver locks fall round his head,
And tacitly demand the bread,
Implor'd by honest Stephen.
All ye, who would old Care beguile,
Or mirth-impell'd, at Nature smile,
Or save your horse at least a mile,
I charge ye list to Stephen.
Or mirth-impell'd, at Nature smile,
Or save your horse at least a mile,
I charge ye list to Stephen.
All ye who seek high Windsor's gate,
To see your king devoid of state,
And learn to be both good and great,
Incline your ears to Stephen.
To see your king devoid of state,
And learn to be both good and great,
Incline your ears to Stephen.
170
With decent smile, and rural grace,
He doffs his hat, and tells his case:
The Clement Cottrel of the place,
They've blazon'd honest Stephen.
He doffs his hat, and tells his case:
The Clement Cottrel of the place,
They've blazon'd honest Stephen.
Persuasion lives upon his tongue,
He melts the hearts of old and young;
From nymphs and swains the pence are flung,
To solace poor old Stephen.
He melts the hearts of old and young;
From nymphs and swains the pence are flung,
To solace poor old Stephen.
Ere hast'ning Time had pluck'd his wing,
'Twas he was foremost in the ring,
For who could dance, or blythely sing,
So well as rosy Stephen.
'Twas he was foremost in the ring,
For who could dance, or blythely sing,
So well as rosy Stephen.
His fame was spread the hamlet round,
By all caress'd, by all renown'd,
The village maids with rapture own'd,
They gave their hearts to Stephen.
By all caress'd, by all renown'd,
The village maids with rapture own'd,
They gave their hearts to Stephen.
Young Bacchus, with a smile divine,
(For oft had Stephen kiss'd his shrine,)
Immers'd his pencil deep in wine,
To paint the nose of Stephen.
(For oft had Stephen kiss'd his shrine,)
Immers'd his pencil deep in wine,
To paint the nose of Stephen.
Each ruby pimple, gazers see,
Holds in its womb, so Truth told me,
A hogshead, in epitome,
Of Brandy drank by Stephen.
Holds in its womb, so Truth told me,
A hogshead, in epitome,
Of Brandy drank by Stephen.
171
When Stephen dies, as die we must,
Rich stems will issue from his dust;
And every bleeding grape, I trust,
Yield atoms of old Stephen.
Rich stems will issue from his dust;
And every bleeding grape, I trust,
Yield atoms of old Stephen.
Hearts-ease and Thyme will deck the place,
Which Ruin never shall efface,
Nor vagrant, leaky dog debase,
The hillock rais'd o'er Stephen.
Which Ruin never shall efface,
Nor vagrant, leaky dog debase,
The hillock rais'd o'er Stephen.
Arrang'd in rows, you'll see his posies,
Compos'd of cowslips, pinks, and roses,
To catch the wand'rers by their noses,
And bid them think of Stephen.
Compos'd of cowslips, pinks, and roses,
To catch the wand'rers by their noses,
And bid them think of Stephen.
He sells his fruit as cheap as any,
Nay, cheaper, I have heard, than many;
And gives a blessing for your penny,
Then who'd not buy of Stephen.
Nay, cheaper, I have heard, than many;
And gives a blessing for your penny,
Then who'd not buy of Stephen.
His crab stick, with a knotty head,
His son bestow'd, alas! who's dead!
When Thought pervades his clay-cold bed,
Tears scald the cheek of Stephen.
His son bestow'd, alas! who's dead!
When Thought pervades his clay-cold bed,
Tears scald the cheek of Stephen.
Stephen ne'er lauded knaves or fools,
Or touch'd the threshold of the schools;
He gathers Wit from Charles's rules,
While Pity nurtures Stephen.
Or touch'd the threshold of the schools;
He gathers Wit from Charles's rules,
While Pity nurtures Stephen.
172
Tho' myriads utter hymns forlorn,
Who fill their cups from Plenty's horn,
Or bright, or dimm'd, each rising morn,
Creates a joy for Stephen.
Who fill their cups from Plenty's horn,
Or bright, or dimm'd, each rising morn,
Creates a joy for Stephen.
Snug in his hut, he quaffs his bub,
Where Boreas gives him many a rub,
Its size, the Grecian cynic's tub,
But large enough for Stephen.
Where Boreas gives him many a rub,
Its size, the Grecian cynic's tub,
But large enough for Stephen.
Indignant Fate! oh, dire to tell!
Enrag'd to see such merit dwell
On earth, within a mortal shell,
Seiz'd half the frame of Stephen.
Enrag'd to see such merit dwell
On earth, within a mortal shell,
Seiz'd half the frame of Stephen.
Yet, tho' he bends 'neath Fate's controul,
And comfortless his hours roll,
Unwounded is the manly soul,
Of upright, honest Stephen.
And comfortless his hours roll,
Unwounded is the manly soul,
Of upright, honest Stephen.
Tho' from the page of Science driven,
To him the beams of Grace were given;
He bends his mind in fear of heaven,
So chaste in thought is Stephen.
To him the beams of Grace were given;
He bends his mind in fear of heaven,
So chaste in thought is Stephen.
173
Here let the Stoic tribes combine,
And form their creed, old man, from thine,
Then their philosophy resign,
And learn to bear from Stephen.
And form their creed, old man, from thine,
Then their philosophy resign,
And learn to bear from Stephen.
The thrush, the robin, and the wren,
Who fly the haunts of fraudful men,
Perch on the shelves within his den,
And live in peace with Stephen.
Who fly the haunts of fraudful men,
Perch on the shelves within his den,
And live in peace with Stephen.
An ass he has, both sat and sleek,
Like Balaam's charger, wise and meek;
When Sol's bright rays yon mountains streak,
He's saddled for poor Stephen.
Like Balaam's charger, wise and meek;
When Sol's bright rays yon mountains streak,
He's saddled for poor Stephen.
This noisy wonder of the plain
Was bred in Beaulieus blest domain,
Where all the Loves and Graces reign,
And given to poor Stephen.
Was bred in Beaulieus blest domain,
Where all the Loves and Graces reign,
And given to poor Stephen.
I hope no caitiffs as they pass,
Will steal poor Ned, for then, alas!
The man must live without an ass,
And all will sigh for Stephen.
Will steal poor Ned, for then, alas!
The man must live without an ass,
And all will sigh for Stephen.
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