»86 poetry, Oct. 3- 



The bards woulJ have little to write on, 



The lawyers have little to say; 

 The critics would nought have to bite on, 

 ( The Non Cubs not kaow how to pray. 



Besides, f«r a plague wit !s sent t'ye. 



Its owners for ever are p<or; 

 Whilst nonsense is vested with plenty. 



Whereof you may see now therefore. 



GLEANINGS OF ANCIENT POETRT. 



AGAINST FOREIGN LUXUR.T. 

 BY W. BROWN. 



"ND now ye Bviti/h swaincs, (whose harmlefs (heepe 



Than all the worid's beside I joy to ketpe,) 



Which spread on every plaine, and hilly would, 



Fleeces no Icfce estcem'd than that of gold, 



For whose exchange one Indy jems of price, 



The other gives you of her choicest spice. 



And well /he may \ but \*e, unwise, the while, 



Lefscn the glory of our fruitful isle, 



JVIaking those nations think we fooli.li are, 



For baser drugs to vent our richer ware. 



Which (save tfie bringer !) never profit man, 



Except the sexten and physitian. 



And whether change of cJymes, or what it be, 



That proves our rxarainers mortalltie, 



Such expert men are spent for such bad fares 



As might have made us lords of what is theirs. 



Stay, stay at home, ye nobler spirits, and prise 



Your lives more high then suc'i base trumperies; 



Forbeare to fetch ; and they'le goe ncere to sue, 



And at youv owne dores offer them to you ! 



Or have rheir woods and plaines so overgrowne 



With poysnous weeds, roots, gums, ;ind seeds unknowne ; 



That they would hire such wceders as jou be 



To free their lond from such fertilitie. . 



Their spicej hot, their nature best indures, 



But 'twill impayrc md much distemper yours. 



What our ov.ne uoyle affords belits us best; 



And iong and iorg, for ever may we rest 



Needlefae of help ! and may this isle alone 



Furnilh all other lane's, and this land none! 



Brjtjsh Pastorals, 



