Oct. 25. 1851.] 



NOTES AND QUERIES. 



311 



But this is a less pointed imitation than that of 

 Gray, which succeeded it. Gray had his eye on 

 Lucretius : 



" For them no more the blazing hearth sliall burn, 

 Or busy housewife ply her evening care ; 

 No children run to lisp their sire's return, 

 Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share." 

 Next followed Collins, in his Ode on the Super- 

 stitions of the Highlands, who, however, seems to 

 have had Thomson chiefly in view : 



" For him, in vain, his anxious wife shall wait, 

 Or wander forth to meet him on his way ; 

 For him, in vain, at to-fall of the day. 



His babes shall linger at ih' unclosing gate: 

 Ah ! ne'er shall he return." 



To him succeeded Dyer : 



" The little smiling cottage, when at eve 

 He meets his rosy children at the door, 

 Prattling their welcomes, and his honest wife, 



intent 



To cheer his hunger after labour hard." 



Fleece, Book I. 120. 



Burns has a picture equal to any of these : 

 " At length his lonely cot appears in view 

 Beneath the shelter of an aged tree: 

 Th' expectant wee things, todlin', stacker through 

 To meet their dad willt flichferin noise and glee : 

 His w«e-bit ingle hiinkin' bonnilie. 

 His clean hearth-stane, his thrifty wifie's smile, 



The lisping iiifant prattling on his knee. 

 Does a' his weary calking cares beguile. 

 And makes him quite forget his labour and his toil." 

 Cotter's Saturday Night. 



Burns may have taken the thought from Gray, 

 or some other Knglish source. But he has not 

 disgraced it by his mode of treating it. 



Allan Ilamsay, in his Gentle Shepherd, has a 

 very pretty allusion to cliildren, which I have not 

 at hand to consult, but which concludes with, 

 " While all they ettle at, tlieir greatest wis', 

 Is to be made o', and obtain a kiss." 



J. s. w. 



Stockweli. 



A GLOUCESTER DITTT. 

 ( From an Old Broadside without date. ) 



Come, my very merry gentle people, only list a 

 minute, 



J'or tho' my song may not be long there's some- 

 thing comic in it; 



A stranger I, yet, by the bye, I've ventured in my 

 ditty. 



To say a word at parting, just in praise of 

 Gloucester city. 



The Romans they this city built, and many folks 



came down here. 

 Kings lliciiard, Ileiny, John, and Ned, did visit 



Glo'ster town liere ; 



King William dined each Christmas here, and 



Glo'ster Iblks it pleases. 

 To know the food he relished most was double 



Berkeley cheeses. 



The ladies, Heaven bless 'em all ! as sure as I've a 



nose on. 

 In former times had only thorns and skewers to 



stick their clothes on ; 

 No damsel then was worth a pin, whate'er it might 



have cost her. 

 Till gentle Johnny Tilsby came, and invented 



pins in Glo'ster. 



Your fine cathedral when I saw, tho' much I was 



delighted. 

 Yet in the whisp'ring gallery I got most sadly 



frighted ; 

 Some question there I asked myself, when not a 



soul was near me, 

 And suddenly an answer came, as if the walls 



could hear me. 



The Severn full of salmon fine enriches low and 



high land. 

 And then, for more variety, you've got a little 



island ; 

 Of which I've read a Taylor's Tale, a dozen verses 



long, sirs. 

 And may I go to Old Harry, if it's not a clever 



song, sirs. 



George Ridler's oven, I've been told, contains some 



curious jokes, sirs. 

 And much of it is said by many Glo'ster folks, 



sirs ; 

 But ovens now are seiious things, and from my 



soul I wish, sirs, 

 Your ovens here may ne'er want bread to fill the 



poor man's dish, sirs. 



Now if you will but all forgive this slight attempt 



at rhyme, sirs, 

 I'll promise, like the little boys, to mend another 



time, sirs ; 

 May health, with every blessing, join this company 



to foster. 

 Till, with your leave, some future time I come 



again to Glo'ster. 



GEOEGE EIDLERS OVEN. 



(From a Broadside.) 



The stwons that built George Ilidler's oven. 

 And thauy keum from tlu' Bleakeley's Quaar ; 

 And George he wur a jolly old nion, 

 And his yeail it grawed above his yare. 



One thing of George Ridler I must commend, 



And tluit wur vur a notable iheng ; 



lie meud his braags avoore he died, 



Wi' ony dree brothers his zons should zeng. 



