"And bid him labour, foon or late,
"To lay these ringlets lank and strait."
Then, fomething fcarcely to be feen,
Her finger and her thumb between
She held, and fweetly fmiling, cry'd,
"Your Goblin's skill shall now be try'd."
She faid; and gave---what shall I call
That thing fo fhining, crifp, and fmall,
Which round his finger ftrove to twine?
A tendril of the Cyprian vine?
Or fprig from Cytherea's grove;
Shade of the labyrinth of love?
With awe, he now takes from her hand
That fleece-like flower of fairy land:
Lefs precious, whilom, was the fleece
Which drew the Argonauts from Greece ?
Or that, which modern ages fee
The fpur and prize of chivalry,
Whofe curls of kindred texture grace
Heroes and kings of Spanish race.
The fpark prepar'd, and Pug at hand, He iffues, thus, his ftrict command : "This line, thus curve and thus orbicular, "Render direct, and perpendicular;
"But fo direct, that in no fort
"It ever may in rings retort.
"See me no more till this be done :
"Hence, to thy task---avaunt, be gone." Away the fiend like lightning flies, And all his wit to work applies:
Anvils and preffes he employs,
And dins whole hell with hammering noise.
In vain he to no terms can bring
One twirl of that reluctant thing;
Th' elastic fibre mocks his pains,
And its firft fpiral form retains.
New ftratagems the fprite contrives,
And down the depths of fea he dives:
"This fprunt its pertnefs fure will lofe
"When laid (faid he) to foak in ooze.”
Poor foolish fiend! he little knew
Whence Venus and her garden grew.
Old Ocean, with paternal waves
The child of his own bed receives ;
Which oft as dipt new force exerts,
And in more vigorous curls reverts.
So when to earth Alcides flung
The huge Antæus, whence he fprung,
From every fall fresh strength he gain'd,
And with new life the fight maintain’d.
The baffled Goblin grows perplex'd,
Now knows what flight to practise next :
The more he tries, the more he fails;
Nor charm, nor art, nor force avails.
But all concur his fhame to show,
And more exafperate the foe.
And now he penfive turns and fad,
And looks like melancholic mad.
He rolls his eyes now off, now on
That wonderful phænomenon.
Sometimes he twifts and twirls it round,
Then, pausing, meditates profound:
No end he fees of his furprize,
Nor what it fhould be can devife;
For never yet was wool or feather,
That could ftand buff against all weather;
And unrelax'd, like this, refift:
Both wind and rain, and fnow and mist.
What stuff, or whence, or how 'twas made,
What fpinfter which could fpin fuch thread,
He nothing knew; but, to his coft,
Knew all his fame and labour loft.
Subdued, abafh'd, he gave it o'er ;
'Tis faid, he blufh'd; 'tis fure, he swore
Not all the wiles that hell could hatch
Could conquer that Superb Muftach.
Defeated thus, thus difcontent,
Back to the man the Dæmon went ;
I grant,” quoth he, our contract null, "And give you a discharge in full.
"But tell me now, in name of wonder,
"(Since I fo candidly knock under).
"What is this thing? Where could it grow?
"Pray take it---'tis in ftatu quo.
"Much good may 't do you; for my part,
"I wash my hands of 't from my heart."
“In truth, Sir Goblin or Sir Fairy,"
Replies the lad, " you 're too foon weary.
"What, leave this trifling task undone !
"And think'st thou this the only one?
"Alas! were this fubdued, thoud'ft find
"Millions of more fuch still behind;
"Which might employ, ev'n to eternity,
"Both you and all your whole fraternity."
The PEASANT in Search of his HEIFER.
A TALE AFTER M. DE LA FONTAINE.
T fo befell: a filly fwain
Had fought his heifer long in vain;
For wanton fhe had frisking stray'd,
And left the lawn, to feek the fhade,
Around the plain he rolls his eyes,
Then, to the wood, in hafte he hies;
Where, fingling out the fairest tree,
He climbs, in hopes to hear or fee.
Anon, there chanc'd that way to pafs
A jolly lad and buxom lass :
The place was apt, the pastime pleasant;
Occafion with her forelock present:
The girl agog, the gallant ready;
So lightly down he lays my lady.
But fo fhe turn'd, or fo was laid,
That the fome certain charms difplay'd,
Which with fuch wonder struck his fight
(With wonder, much; more, with delight)
That loud he cry'd in rapture, "What?
"What fee I, gods! What fee I not!”
PEASANT IN SEARCH OF HIS HEIFER. 1777
But nothing nam'd; from whence 'tis guess'd, 'Twas more than well could be exprefs'd.
The clown aloft, who lent an ear, Strait ftopt him fhort in mid career: And louder cry'd, "Ho! honest friend, "That of thy feeing feeft no end; "Doft fee the heifer, that I feek? "If do'ft, pray be fo kind to speak.”
SING, Mufe, the force and all-informing fire
Of Cyprian Venus, goddess of defire :
Her charms th' immortal minds of gods can move,
And tame the ftubborn race of men to love.
The wilder herds and ravenous beaft of prey
Her in luence feel, and own her kindly way.
Through pathlefs Air, and boundless Ocean's space,
She rules the feather'd kind and finny race;
Whole nature on her fole fupport depends,
And far as life exifs, her care extends.
Of all the numerous hoft of gods above,
But three are found inflexible to love.
Blue-ey'd Minerva free preferves his heart,
A virgin unbeguil'd by Cupid's art;
In fhining arms the martial aid delights,
O'er war prefides, and well-difputed fights;
With thirft of fame the firft the hero fir'd,
And firft the skill of useful arts infpir'd;
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