POETRY. 899 



la absence felt that doubled cause of woe, 



Which all who taste suspense too keenly know; 



Who now, perhaps, the while her health goes round, * 



And the deck echoes to the festive sound, 



In fond imagination views the scene, 



And sighs to think what barriers intervene 



To stop the thanks, that hang upon her tongue 



Intent on him, from whom her being sprung, 



" Oh ! may he live," she cries, with mingled tears, 



" Longer than I have time to tt 11 his years :* 



And, while the dews of sleep his brows o'crspread, 



jMay all good angels guard his nightly bed!" 



[^Sailor's Wife interrupts the Sailor. 

 My worthy friend, have you forgot the fame 

 Of old St. Michael, of goose-killing name? 

 How, ev'ry year, on this auspicious day 

 Our vows to him with grateful teeth we pay, 

 When cackling animals by instinct feel 

 A sort of tremor through the bosom steal ? 

 You surely have; but pr'ythee say no more, 

 For, if you are not mute, I must implore 

 My Sovereign himself his aid to lend. 

 He, to' all just prerogative the friend. 

 Will never see a female, fair and young, 

 Robb'd of her best prerogative, her tongue. 

 And now, forsooth, when ladies ride a race, 

 And vie with men in ev'ry manly grace; 

 Oh ! could our grandmothers on earth arrise. 

 How would such thoughts astound their wond'ring eyes ! 

 They, who the Decalogue in cross-stich wrought, 

 Or good morality in samplers taught, 

 Who never rode but on some festive day, 

 When behind John, upon a long-tail'd grey ; 

 Strapp'd to a modest pillion's sober side. 

 My good aunt Deborah came oufra bride. 

 She a long-waisted Josepii j)ruu(ily wore, 

 And on her head an ample bonnet bore. 

 What would she say to see the modern maid, 

 With jo^chey sleeves and velvet cap array'd, 

 Dashing thro' thick and thin to win the post. 

 And swearing when she finds her wishes crost ! 

 But how can [ one thought to censu re give. 

 When here, coile6led in this vessel, live 

 Whatever virtues dignify our kind, , 



Or stamp witli excellence the female mind ! 



* Shakespeare's Ilcnry the Vlllth. 



3 M 2 Here 



