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H. S. E.

JOHANNES GRUBB, A. M.

Natus apud Acton Burnel in agro Salopiensi

Anno Dom. 1645.

Cujus varian in linguis notitiam,

et felicem erudiendis pueris industriam,
gratâ adhuc memoriâ testatur Oxonium.
Ibi enim Ædi Christi initiatus,
artes excoluit:

Pueros ad easdem mox excolendas
accuratè formavit:

Huc demum

unanimi omnium consensu accitus,
eandem suscepit provinciam,
quam feliciter adeo absolvit,

ut nihil optandum sit

nisi ut diutius nobis interfuisset :
Fuit enim

propter festivam ingenii suavitatem, simplicem morum candorem, et præcipuam erga cognatos benevolentiam, omnibus desideratissimus.

Obii 2do die Aprilis, Anno D'ni. 1697, Etatis sux 51.

3

XVI.

MARGARET'S GHOST.

This Ballad, which appeared in some of the public newspapers in or before the year 1724, came from the pen of David Mallet, Esq. who in the edition of his poems, S vols. 1759, informs us that the plan was suggested by the four verses quoted above in page 165, which he supposed to be the beginning of some ballad now lost.

"These lines, says he, naked of ornament and "simple as they are, struck my fancy; and bringing "fresh into my mind an unhappy adventure much "talked of formerly, gave birth to the following poem, "which was written many years ago."

The two introductory lines (and one or two others elsewhere) had originally more of the ballad simplicity, viz.

“When all was wrapt in dark midnight,
"And all were fast asleep, &c. .

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When night and morning meet;
In glided Margaret's grimly ghost,
And stood at William's feet.

Her face was like an April morn,

Clad in a wintry cloud:
And clay-cold was her lily hand,

That held her sable shrowd.

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So shall the fairest face appear,

When youth and years are flown:

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Such is the robe that kings must wear,
When death has reft their crown.

Her bloom was like the springing flower,

That sips the silver dew;

The rose was budded in her cheek,

Just opening to the view.

But love had, like the canker-worm,

Consum'd her early prime:

The rose grew pale, and left her cheek;

She dy'd before her time.

"Awake!" she cry'd, "thy true love calls,

"Come from her midnight grave;

"Now let thy pity hear the maid

"Thy love refus❜d to save.

"This is the dark and dreary hour
"When injur'd ghosts complain;

Now yawning graves give up their dead,
To haunt the faithless swain.

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Full fatal to the Romans was

The Carthaginian Hanni

bal; him I mean, who gave them such

A devilish thump at Cannæ:

Moors thick, as goats on Penmenmure,

Stood on the Alpes's front:

Their one-eyed guide,* like blinking mole,
Bor'd thro' the hind'ring mount:

Who, baffled by the massy rock,

Took vinegar for relief;

Like plowmen, when they hew their way

Thro' stubborn rump of beef.

As dancing louts from humid toes

Cast atoms of ill savour

To blinking Hyatt,† when on vile crowd

He merriment does endeavour,

And saws from suffering timber out

Some wretched tune to quiver:

So Romans stunk and squeak'd at sight

Of Affrican carnivor.

The tawny surface of his phiz

Did serve instead of vizzard:

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But George he made the dragon have

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A grumbling in his gizzard.

St. George he was for England; St. Dennis was for Sing, Honi soit qui mal y pense.

* Hannibal had but one eye.

[France;

† A one-eyed fellow, who pretended to make fiddles, as well as play on them; well known at that time in Oxford.

The valour of Domitian,

It must not be forgotten;

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Who from the jaws of worm-blowing flies,

Protected veal and mutton.

A squadron of flies errant,

Against the foe appears;

With regiments of buzzing knights,

And swarms of volunteers:

The warlike wasp encourag'd 'em

With animating hum;

And the loud brazen hornet next,

He was their kettle-drum:

The Spanish don Cantharido

Did him most sorely pester,

And rais'd on skin of vent'rous knight

Full many a plaguy blister.

A bee whipt thro' his button-hole,

As thro' key-hole a witch,

And stabb'd him with her little tuck

Drawn out of scabbard breech:

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But the undaunted knight lifts up

An arm both big and brawny,

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And slasht her so, that here lay head,

And there lay bag and honey:

Then 'mongst the rout he flew as swift,

As weapon made by Cyclops,

And bravely quell'd seditious buz,

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By dint of massy fly-flops.

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