13.

Still, harmless are these occupations,"

That hurt none but the hapless student, Compar'd with other recreations,

Which bring together the imprudent;

14.

Whose daring revels shock the sight,
When vice and infamy combine,
When Drunkenness and dice invite,'
As every sense is steep'd in wine.

15.

Not so the methodistic crew,

Who plans of reformation lay:

In humble attitude they sue,

And for the sins of others pray:

16.

Forgetting that their pride of spirit,
Their exultation in their trial,"
Detracts most largely from the merit
Of all their boasted self-denial.

i. But harmless are these occupations Which.-[4to]

ii. When Drunkenness and dice unite.

And every sense.-[4to. P. on V. Occasions.]

iii. And exultation.-[4to]

17.

'Tis morn :-from these I turn my sight:
What scene is this which meets the eye?
A numerous crowd array'd in white,'

Across the green in numbers fly.

18.

Loud rings in air the chapel bell;

'Tis hush'd:--what sounds are these I hear?

The organ's soft celestial swell

Rolls deeply on the listening ear.

19.

To this is join'd the sacred song,
The royal minstrel's hallow'd strain;
Though he who hears the music long,
Will never wish to hear again.

20.

Our choir would scarcely be excus'd,

E'en as a band of raw beginners;

All mercy, now, must be refus'd ii.

To such a set of croaking sinners.

21.

If David, when his toils were ended,

Had heard these blockheads sing before him,

i. But he.-[4to]

ii. But mercy.-[4to]

1. On a saint's day the students wear surplices in chapel.

To us his psalms had ne'er descended,—

In furious mood he would have tore 'em.

22.

The luckless Israelites, when taken

By some inhuman tyrant's order,
Were ask'd to sing, by joy forsaken,
On Babylonian river's border.

23.

Oh! had they sung in notes like these1
Inspir'd by stratagem or fear,

They might have set their hearts at ease,
The devil a soul had stay'd to hear.

24.

But if I scribble longer now,"

The deuce a soul will stay to read;
My pen is blunt, my ink is low;

'Tis almost time to stop, indeed.

25.

Therefore, farewell, old Granta's spires!
No more, like Cleofas, I fly;

No more thy theme my Muse inspires:

The reader's tir'd, and so am I.

October 28, 1806.

i.. But had they sung.—[4to]

ii. But if I write much longer now.-[4to. P. on V. Occasions.]

TO THE SIGHING STREPHON.1

I.

YOUR pardon, my friend,

If my rhymes did offend,
Your pardon, a thousand times o'er;

From friendship I strove,

Your pangs to remove,

But, I swear, I will do so no more.

2.

Since your beautiful maid,
Your flame has repaid,

No more I your folly regret;

She's now most divine,

And I bow at the shrine,

Of this quickly reformed coquette.

I should never have known,

From your verses, what else she deserv'd;

i. But still.-[4to]

1. [The letters "J. M. B. P." are added, in a lady's hand, in the annotated copy of P. on V. Occasions, p. 17 (British Museum).]

Your pain seem'd so great,

I pitied your fate,

As your fair was so dev'lish reserv'd.

4.

Since the balm-breathing kiss
Of this magical Miss,

Can such wonderful transports produce ; *.
Since the "world you forget,

When your lips once have met,"

My counsel will get but abuse.

You say,

5.

"When I rove,"

"I know nothing of love;"

'Tis true, I am given to range;

If I rightly remember,

I've lov'd a good number; ill

Yet there's pleasure, at least, in a change.

6.

I will not advance,.

By the rules of romance,

To humour a whimsical fair;

i. But since the chaste kiss.-[4to] ii. Such wonderful.-[4to]

iii. I've kiss'd a good number.-[4to]

But

iv. I ne'er will advance.-[4to]