Curls at his ears and neck, and ribbons gay→ What can that be? 1824. A puppy, New Year's Day. 1825. A puppy, well-and what's that stubborn dog, But heavens! what comes here? Look now, the Moon? Look! 1824. Where? God bless me, no-an Air Balloon!!! In a work basket underneath that ball; Don't you see something move? Mind, have a care, 'twill burst and fall upon us! And in that nob such whimseys, and such schemes, That during all your yearalty on earth, Besides this nob he has a thing called heart, A very upright thing, as I've been told, When times were young, and New Year's Days were old; Since their first parents passed the fiery gate. In brother One there lived a Mr. Adam, Music, and praying, bloodshed, murder, thieving, Folly and vice, philosophy and reason. [Exit Twentyfour as the clock strikes twelve. The Sun rises and sets on the following days during this month, as below. Table of the Rising and Setting for every Fifth Day. December 1st, O rises 57 m. after 7. Sets 3 m. after 4. ....... 78. 6th,. ..... 58. 7.8. MUSAE VAGANTES; OR SUPPLEMENTARY AND MISCELLANEOUS POEMS AND ANECDOTES, INTENDED TO BEGUILE PLEASANTLIE THE TIME OE THOSE SITTING UP TO HEAR THE NEW YEARE RUNG IN BY THE BELLS. To my Honour'd Friend Maister Sperefount. Thou bin gat saufely home yt sombre night I wis, Thy Pannikell persent, thy Ventaile raft, Foreswonk and eke foredone, How didst thou hurlen forth, Although through the gibing preace Tragid by thy glittering glaive, In the same night, O night of piteous woe, When Lording's Wain by preace subverst, I see by white safely from hame yblest, On a House ybuilded in Clay Street, Walthamstow, about Fifty Years agone. By Festina Lentè. All in the Lande of Essex, In Walthamstow the pleasant, Such a House was built of late, As amazed both Squire and Peasant; Of materials, Heaven knows, brittle enough: Not a Horse could be found out, Of this House made all men adore it; And a Haybarn before it. LIBITINA. On the Funerall of an Old Horse.—I am not certain whether the Newspapers have recorded the funeral procession, and the quantity of Ale which was ydronken at the funeraille of an auncient steed, ycleped Mouse, who whylom the Knyghte of the Boar's head thro manie a peryl drede, and who was lately ygraven in an Orchat borderynge on the Tounlette of Stapylfoorde near Harteforde; how the Clerk of the sayde parysche having well ydronken, wrote thereon an Epitaphe, which here floweth : You that can reade, behold this place! And you that cannot, look! For why, an horse of mickle grace, His breath hath left his body lank, And is fled far away; Here resteth he all drear and dank, The parish bell it did not toll; For well I know had he been dead, Even though the Bishop had gainsaid Wherefore, &c. Now the Clerke being some dele prolix, and by the help of the Ales, when he had y'gotten to the 50th Stanza, had waxed in no wise decent, but had reviled the parsonne foulle, as having deprived him of the fee he should have received for knowling the Belle; the parsonne, to make some little amends, did ywrite this Horation, verie truly phylosophical consolatory Ode of the Knyghte of the Bore's Head. Horace, Book I. Ode xxiv. Where can be the shame or measure He feared no way though e'er so shabby, He mounted up each ancient keep, Nor dreaded precipice though steep, Nor stopped nor stumbled though you rode on The craggy paths which lead to Snowdon. And you would pray the skies in rain, No British Ass that browsed on thistle, What can't be cured, must be endured. It was the Editor's intention to have inserted here a series of Odes, Epistles, and Poems of different living and deceased Authors, written at College; but the thought was afterwards abandoned for many obvious reasons, as . they related to living characters: and the supplementary series was consequently broken off abruptly on second thoughts. |