Ye nurs'ries of our boys, we owe to you : 255 260 I blame not those who, with what care they can, O'erwatch the num'rous and unruly clan; Or, if I blame, 'tis only that they dare Promise a work, of which they must despair, Have ye, ye sage intendants of the whole, 265 A ubiquarian presence and controlElisha's eye, that, when Gehazi stray'd, Went with him, and saw all the game he play'd ? Yes—ye are conscious; and on all the shelves Your pupils strike upon, have struck yourselves, 270 Or if, by nature sober, ye had then, Boys as ye were, the gravity of men; Ye knew at least, by constant proofs address'd To ears and eyes, the vices of the rest. But ye connive ai what ye cannot cure, 275 And evils, not to be endurd, endure, Lest pow'r exerted, but without success, Should make the little ye retain still less. Ye once were justly fam'd for bringing forth Undoubted scholarship and genuine worth ; 280 And in the firmament of fame still shines A glory, bright as that of all the signs, Of poets rais’d by you, and statesmen, and divines. Peace to them all! those brilliant times are fled, And no such lights are kindling in their stead. 285 Our striplings shine indeed, but with such rays, Say, Muse, (for education made the song, 290 Be it a weakness, it deserves some praise, We love the play-place of our early days ; The scene is touching, and the heart is stone That feels not at that sight, and feels at none. The wall on which we tried our graving skill, 300 The very name we carv'd subsisting still ; The bench on which we sat while keep employ'd, 'Tho' mangled, hack'd, and hew'd, not yet destroy'd ; The little ones, unbotton'd, glowing hot, Playing our games, and on the very spot ; 305 As happy as we once, to kneel and draw The chalky ring, and knuckle down at taw; To pitch the ball into the grounded hat, Or drive it devious with a dext'rous pat ; The pleasing spectacle ai once excites Such recollection of our own delights, That, viewing it, we seem almost t obtain Our innocent sweet simple years again. This fond attachment to the well-known place, Whence first we started into life's long race, 315 Maintains its hold with suck unfailing sway, We feel it e'en in age, and at our latest day. Hark! how the sire of chits, whose future share Of classick food begins to be his care, With his own likeness plac'd on either knee, 320 Indulges all a father's heart-felt glee ; And tells them, as he strokes their silver locks, That they must soon learn Latin, and to box; 310 Then turning, he regales his list’ning wife 325 330 Watch, seals, and all-till all his pranks are told. Retracing thus his frolicks, ('tis a name That palliates deeds of folly and of shame,) He gives the local bias all its sway ; Resolves that where he play'd his sons shall play, 335 And destines their bright genius to be shown Just in the scene where he display'd his own. The meek and bashful boy will soon be taught, To be as bold and forward as he ought; The rude will scuffle through with ease enough, 340 Great schools suit best the sturdy and the rough. Ah happy designation, prudent choice, Th’ event is sure ; expect it, and rejoice ! Soon see your wish fulfill'd in either child The pert made perter, and the tame made wild. 345 The great, indeed, by titles, riches, birth, Excus'd th’ encumbrance of more solid worth, Are best dispos’d of where with most success They may acquire that confident address, Those habits of profuse and lewd expense, 350 That scorn of all delights but those of sense, Which, though in plain plebeians we condemn, With so much reason all expect from them. But families of less illustrious fame, Whose chief distinction is their spotless name, 353 Whose heirs, their honours none, their income small, Must shine by true desert, or not at all, What dream they of, that with so little care They risk their hopes, their dearest treasure there? They dream of little Charles or William grac'd 360 With wig prolix, down flowing to his waist : They see th' attentive crowds his talents draw : 365 370 Which only a parental eye foresees, A publick school shall bring to pass with ease. But how! Resides such virtue in that air, As must create an appetite for pray’r ? And will it breathe into him all the zeal, 375 That candidates for such a prize should feel, To take the lead and be the foremost still In all true worth and literary skill ? “ Ah, blind to bright futurity, untaught The knowledge of the world, and dull of thought ? Church-ladders are not always mounted best 381 By learned clerks, and Latinists profess'd. Th' exalted prize demands an upward look, Not to be found by poring on a book. Small skill in Latin, and still less in Greek, 385 Is more than adequate to all I seek. Let erudition grace him or not grace, I give the bauble but the second place ; His wealth, fame, honours, all that I intend, Subsist and centre in one point-a friend. 390 A friend, whate'er he studies or neglects, Shall give him consequence, heal all defects. His intercourse with peers and sons of peers, There dawns the splendour of his future years : In that bright quarter his propitious skies 395 Shall blush betimes, and there his glory rise. Your Lordship and Your Gruce! what school can teach A rhet’rick equal to those parts of speech ! What need of Homer's verse, or Tully's prose, Sweet interjections ! if he learn but those ? 400 405 |