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Pull off, pull off thy silken shoon,
And deliver them unto me; Methinks that they are too fine and gay
To rot in the salt, salt sea.
That floats in the breeze so free ;
And comely it is to see.
O turn thy back to me ; And gaze on the sun which has just begun
To peer o'er the salt, salt sea,
He turn'd his back on the damoselle
And gaz'd on the bright sunbeamShe grasp'd him tight with her arms so white,
And plung'd him into the stream.
Lie there, sir knight, thou false-hearted wight,
Lie there instead of me;
But the seventh has drowned thee.
That ocean wave was the false one's grave,
For he sunk right hastily; Though with dying voice faint, he pray'd to his saint,
And utter'd an Ave Marie.
No mass was said for that false knight dead,
No convent bell did toll; But he went to his rest, unshriy'd and unblest
Heaven's mercy on his soul!
PRIDE AND GOOD-WILL. It is related of a certain class of French nobility, who, in their winter residence at Aix, were objects of dislike from their arrogance and self-importance, that they were beloved and esteemed for their kind. ness and benevolence by the dependants around their chateaus in the country. Many instances might be cited to show that the respect paid them was no more than they deserved ; and one is particularly striking:
A seigneur, when he resided in the country, used to distribute among the women and children, and the old men who were unable to work in the field, raw wool, and flax, which they spun and wove into cloth or stuff at their pleasure : every week they were paid wages according to the quantity of work done, and had a fresh supply of raw materials whenever it was wanted. At the end of the year, a general feast was given by the seigneur to the whole village, when all who had been occupied in spinning and weaving brought in their work, and a prize of a hundred livres was given to each person who had spun the best skein, and woven the best web. They had a dinner in a field adjoining to the chateau, at which the seigneur himself presided, and on each side of him sat those who had gained the prizes. The evening was concluded with a dance. The victors, besides the hundred livres, had their work given them: the rest were allowed to purchase theirs at a very moderate price, and the money resulting from it was laid by to distribute among any persons of the village who wanted relief on account of sickness, or who had suffercü from unavoidable accident, either in their persons or property. At the death of this excellent man, who unfortunately left no immediate heirs to follow his good example, the village presented a scene of the bitterest lamentation and distress: the peasants assembled round the body, and it was almost forced away from them for interment, They brought their shuttles, their distaffs, their skeins of thread and worsted, their pieces of linen and stuff, and strewed them upon his grave, saying that now they had lost their patron and benefactor, they could no longer be of use to them. If this man felt the pride of conscious superiority, it was scarcely to be condemned when accompanied with such laudable exertions to render himself, through that superiority, a benefactor to society.*
# Miss Plumtree.
Betwixt the Wasps and us; the wind grew high,
And a rough storm raged so impetuously,
Our Bees could scarce keep wing; then fell such rain,
It made our Colony forsake the plain, [From the “ Parliament of Bees,” a
And dy to garrison : yet still He stood,
And 'gainst the whole swarm made his party good ; Whether this singular production, in And at each blow he gave, cried out His Vow, which the Characters are all Bees, was
His Vow, and Arethusa l-On each bough
On damask roses, and the leaves of pines,
I have seen him write such amorous moving lines sion for Meletus, who loves Arethusa.
In Arethusa's praise, as my poor heart
Has, when I read them, envied her desert; - not a village Fly, nor meadow Bee,
And wept and sigh'd to think that he should be
To her so constant, yet not pity me.
Porrex, Vice Roy of Bees under King Happy was he could find the forward'st tree,
Oberon, describes his large prerogative. And cull the choicest blossoms out for me ; Of all their labours they allow'd me some,
To Us (who, warranted by Oberon's love, And (like my champions) mann'd me out, and home:
Write Ourself Master Bee), both field and grove, Yet loved I none of them. Philon, a Bee
Garden and orchard, lawns and flowery meads, Well-skill'd in verse and amorous poetry,
(Where the amorous wind plays with the golden heads As we have sate at work, both of one Rose, **
Of wanton cowslips, daisies in their prime, Has humm'd sweet Canzons, both in verse and
Sun-loving marigolds ; the blossom'd thyme,
prose, Which I ne'er minded. Astrophel, a Bee
The blue-vein'd violets and the damask rose; (Although not so poetical as he)
The stately lily, Mistress of all those); Yet in his full invention quick and ripe,
Are allow'd and giv'n, by Oberon's free areed, In summer evenings, on his well-toned pipe,
for me, and all my swarms to feed. Upon a woodbine blossom in the sun, (Our hive being clean-swept, and our day's work done),
the doings, Would play me twenty several tunes ; yet I
The births, the wars, the wooings,
of these pretty little winged creatures (That pretty Bee) Aies up and down the mead
are with continued liveliness portrayed With rivers in her eyes ; without deserving
throughout the whole of this curious Sent me trim Acorn bowls of his own carving,
old Drama, in words which Bees would To drink May dews and mead in. Yet none of these,
talk with, could they talk; the very air My hive-born Playfellows and fellow Bees,
seems replete with humming and buzzing Could I affect, until this strange Bee came ;
melodies, while we read them. Surely And him I love with such an ardent flame,
Bees were never so be-rhymed before. Discretion cannot quench..
C. L. He labours and toils, Extracts more honey out of barren soils Than twenty lazy Drones. I have heard my Father, Steward of the Hive, profess that he had rather Lose half the Swarm than him. If a Bee, poor or weak,
John Scot, A FASTING FANATIC. Grows faint on his way, or by misfortune break
In the year 1539, there lived in Scotland A wing or leg against a twig; alive,
one John Scot, no way commended for his Or dead, he'll bring into the Master's Hive
learning, for he had none, nor for his good Him and his burthen. But the other day,
qualities, which were as few. This man, On the next plain there grew a fatal fray
being overthrown in a suit of law, and
knowing himself unable to pay that wherein • Prettily pilfered from the sweet passage in the he was adjudged, took sanctuary in the Midsummer Night's Dream, where Helena recounts to abbey of Holyrood-house; where, out o. Hermia their school-days' friendship:
discontent, he abstained from all meat and We, Hermia, like two artificial Gods,
drink, by the space of thirty or forty: days Created with our needles both one flower,
together. Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion.
Fame having spread thiş abroad, the
king would have it put to trial, and to that REV. THOMAS COOKE.
The verses at the end of the following man had access. He caused a little water which would otherwise be out of place in a
letter may excuse the insertion of a query, and bread to be set by him, which he was found not to have diminished in the end of publication not designed to be a channel thirty days and two. Upon this he was
of inquiry. dismissed, and, after a short time, he went
To the Editor. to Rome, where he gave the like proof of his fasting to pope Clement VII.; from Sir,-I should feel much obliged, if the whence he went to Venice, carrying with Table Book can supply some account of a him a testimony of his long fasting under clergyman of the name of Thomas Cooke, the pope's seal: and there also he gave the who, it is supposed, resided in Shropshire, like proof thereof. After long time, return and was the author of a very beautiful ing into England, he went up into the poem, in folio, (published by subscription, pulpit in St. Paul's Church-yard, where he about ninety years since, entitled “The gave forth many speeches against the Immortality of the Soul." I have a very divorce of king Henry VIII. from his queen imperfect copy of this work, and am deKatherine, inveighing bitterly against him sirous of ascertaining, from any of your for his defection from the see of Rome; multifarious readers, whether or not the whereupon he was thrust into prison, where poem ever became public, and where it is he continued fasting for the space of fifty probable I could obtain a glimpse of a perdays : what his end was I read not.-Spots- fect impression. Mine has no title-page, wood, &c.
and about one moiety of the work has
been destroyed by the sacrilegious hands of HART THE ASTROLOGER.
some worthless animal on two legs! There lived in Houndsditch, about the
The list of subscribers plainly proves year 1632, one Alexander Hart, who had that Mr. Cooke must have been a man of been a soldier formerly, a comely old man, good family, and exalted conections. On of good aspect, he professed questionary
one of the blank leaves in my copy, the astrology and a little of physic; his greatest following lines appear, written by Mr. skill was to elect young gentlemen fit times Cooke himself; and, considering the tramto play at dice, that they might win or get mels by which he was confined, I think the money. Lilly relates that “he went unto
verses are not without merit; at any rate, him for resolutions for three questions at
the subject of them appears to have been a several times, and he erred in every one.” beautiful creature. He says, that to speak soberly of him he By giving this article a place in the was but a cheat, as appeared suddenly
Table Book, you will much oblige after; for a rustical fellow of the city,
Your subscriber and admirer, desirous of knowledge, contracted with
G. J. D. Hart, to assist for a conference with a Islington-green. spirit, and paid him twenty pounds of thirty pounds the contract. At last, after many
AN ACROSTIC delays, and no spirit appearing, nor money returned, the young man indicted him for a
On a most beautiful and accomplished cheat at the Old Bailey in London. The
young Lady. London, 1748. jury found the bill, and at the hearing of the cause this jest happened : some of the M eekness-good-humour-each transcendent grace, bench inquired what Hart did ? “ He sat
I s seen conspicuous on thy joyous face ; like an alderman in his gown," quoth the Sweet's the carnation to the rambling bee, fellow; at which the court fell into a laugh- S o art thou, CHARLOTTE! always sweet to me! ter, most of the court being aldermen. He was to have been set upon the pillory for C an aught compare successfully with those this cheat; but John Taylor the water High beauties which thy countenance compose, poet being his great friend, got the lord A ll doubly heighten'd by that gentle mind, chief justice Richardson to bail him, ere he R enown'd on earth, and prais'd by ev'ry wind ? stood upon
the pillory, and so Hart fied Lov'd object ! no—then let it be thy care presently into Holland, where he ended his 0. f fawning friends, at all times, to bewaredays.*
To shun this world's delusions and disguise,
T he knave's soft speeches, and the flatt'rer's lies, * Autobiography, vol. ii. Lilly's Life.
E steeming virtue, and discarding vice!
Go where I may, howe'er remote the clime,
It's NEVER TOO LATE TO MEND. W here'er my feet may stray, thy charms sublime, I llustrious maid! approv'd and prais'd by all,
At Chester, in the beginning of the year L ike some enchantment shall my soul enthrall
1790, a reputable farmer, on the evening of L ight ev'ry path-illuminate
a market-day, called at the shop of Mr. I nspire my pen with sentiments refin'd
Poole, bookseller, and, desiring to speak A nd teach my tongue on this fond pray'r to dwell,
with him at the door, put a shilling into “ M ay Heav'n preserve the maid it loves so well!” his hand, telling him, "he had owed it to THOMAS COOKE. him many years." The latter asked, for
what? To which the farmer replied, that
“ When a boy, in buying a book-almanac Varieties.
at his shop, he had stolen another-the reCURIOUS PLAY BILL.
flection of which had frequently given him
much uneasiness.” If any one who sees The following remarkable theatrical an
this ever wronged his neighbour, let him be nouncement is a mixed appeal of vanity and poverty to the taste and feelings of the Chester, to make reparation in like manner,
encouraged by the courage of the farmer of inhabitants of a town in Sussex.
and so make clean his conscience. (Copy) At the old theatre in East Grinstead, on Saturday, May, 1758, will be represented
CONSCIENCE. (by particular desire, and for the benefit of Mrs. P.) the deep and affecting Tragedy
-There is no power in holy men, of Theodosius, or the Force of Love, with Nor charm in prayer-nor purifying form magnificent scenes, dresses, &c.
Of penitence--nor outward look-nor fast Varanes, by Mr. P., who will strive, as
Nor agony-nor, greater than all these, far as possible, to support the character of
The innate tortures of that deep despair, this fiery Persian Prince, in which he was
Which is remorse without the fear of hell, so much admired and applauded at Hast
But all in all sufficient to itself
Would make a hell of heaven-can exorcise ings, Arundel, Petworth, Midworth, Lewes, &c.
From out the unbounded spirit, the quick sense
Of its own sins, wrongs, sufferance, and revenge Theodosius, by a young gentleman from
Upon itself; there is no future pang the University of Oxford, who never ap
Can deal that justice on the self-condemn'd peared on any stage.
He deals on his own soul.
Byron. Athenais, by Mrs. P. Though her present condition will not permit her to wait on gentlemen and ladies out of the town with tickets, she hopes, as on former occa
EPITAPH BY DR. Lowth, late bishop of sions, for their liberality and support.
London, on a monument in the church of Nothing in Italy can exceed the altar, in Cudesden, Oxfordshire, to the memory of the first scene of the play. Nevertheless, his daughter, translated from the Latin : should any of the Nobility or Gentry wish Dear as thou didst in modest worth excel, to see it ornamented with flowers, the More dear than in a daughter's name-farewell! bearer will bring away as many as they Farewell, dear Mary—but the hour is nigh choose to favour him with.
When, if I'm worthy, we shall meet on high : As the coronation of Athenais, to be in Then shall I say, triumphant from the tomb, troduced in the fifth act, contains a number “Come, to thy father's arms, dear Mary, come !"" of personages, more than sufficient to fill all the dressing-rooms, &c., it is hoped no gentlemen and ladies will be offended at
INSCRIPTION being refused admission behind the scenes. N. B. The great_yard dog, that made
From the book at Rigi, in Switzerland. so much noise on Thursday night, during
Nine weary up-hill miles we sped the last act of King Richard the Third,
The setting sun to see ; will be sent to a neighbour's over the way; Sulky and grim he went to bed, : and on account of the prodigious demand
Sulky and grim went we. for places, part of the stable will be laid into the boxes on one side, and the granary
Seven sleepless hours we past, and then, be open for the same purpose on the other.
The rising sun to see,
Sulky and grim we rose again,
Sulky and grim rose he. • Boaden's Life of Mrs. Siddons.
A goose-herd in the sen-lands; nest, he
For the Table Book.
When about four years old, he narrowly William Hall, or as he used to style escaped drowning; for, in his own words, himself, " Antiquarian Hall,” “ Will. Will.
overstretching took a slip, be-so,” and “ Low-Fen-Bill-Hall," or, as he
And popp'd beneath a merchant's ship;* was more generally termed by the public, No sonl at hand but me and mother; “ Old Hall," died at Lynn, in Norfolk, on Nor could I call for one or other." the 24th of January, 1825. From some curious autobiographical sketches in rhyme, She, however, at the hazard of her own life, published by himself
, in the decline of life, succeeded in saving her son's. At eleven it appears that he was born on June 1, 0.s. years old, he went to school, in Brothertoft 1748, at Willow Booth, a small island in chapel, for about six months, in which time the fens of Lincolnshire, near Heckingtonceived. His love of reading was so great,
he derived all the education he ever reEase, in the parish of South Kyme.
that as soon as he could manage a gunning. “ Kyme, God knows,
boat, he used to employ his Sundays either Where no corn grows,
in seeking for water-birds' eggs, or to
“ shouve the boat
A catching fish, to make a groat,
And sometimes with a snare or hook; His ancestors on the father's side were
Well, what was't for?-to buy a book, all “fen slodgers,” having lived there for
Propensity so in him lay." many generations; his mother was
Before he arrived at man's estate, he lost a half Yorkshire,
his mother, and soon afterwards his father The other ball was Heckington, Vulgar a place as any one.”.
* A coal-lightera