As erst the bard by Mulla's silver stream, To loose the brogues, the stripling's late delight; O ruthful scene! when, from a nook obscure, No longer can she now her shrieks command; And gives a loose at last to unavailing woe. But, ah! what pen his piteous plight may trace? Or what device his loud laments explain The form uncouth of his disguised face The pallid hue that dyes his looks amain The plenteous shower that does his cheek distain? Ne hopeth aught of sweet reprieve to gain; Or when from high she levels well her aim, And, through the thatch, his cries each falling stroke proclaim. But now Dan Phoebus gains the middle sky, Enjoy, poor imps! enjoy your sportive trade, But most in courts, where proud ambition towers; See in each sprite some various bent appear! Those sauntering on the green, with jocund leer Some building fragile tenements of clay; Some to the standing lake their courses bend, In pastry kings and queens the alloted mite to spend. Here as each season yields a different store, Apples with cabbage-net y-covered o'er, Galling full sore the unmoneyed wight, are seen, O may no wight e'er penniless come there, See, cherries here, ere cherries yet abound, Scattering, like blooming maid, their glances round, And must be bought, though penury betide. The plum all azure, and the nut all brown; And here each season do those cakes abide, Admired Salopia! that with venial pride Eyes her bright form in Severn's ambient wave, Her daughters lovely, and her striplings brave: Till reason's morn arise, and light them on their way. WILLIAM WHITEHEAD, an elegant poet and a nervous writer, was the son of a baker, and was born in 1715. Early attracting the attention of Lord Montfort, he obtained, through the influence of that nobleman, admittance into Westminster school, and there enjoyed the honor of winning the poetic prize. From Westminster he passed to Clare Hall, Cambridge, of which, in 1742, he became fellow, and soon after entered the family of Lord Jersey, as tutor to his son. The leisure which the comforts and independence of his situation afforded him, left him at liberty to turn his thoughts to the drama, and he produced two tragedies, the Roman Father and Creusa, both of which were received with applause. In 1754, he accompanied his noble pupil, and Lord Nuneham, on the continent, and after visiting the different *Shrewsbury cakes. courts of Germany, he returned through Italy, Switzerland, France, and Holland, to England, having been abroad a little more than two years. The views of Rome, and the monuments of her departed greatness, were not lost on the imagination of a man of such genius; and on his return he, accordingly, gave to the public his Elegy, written at Hautvilliers, his Ode on the Campagna of Rome, and five Eclogues. By the interest of Lady Jersey, he was appointed secretary and register to the Order of the Bath, and two years after he succeeded Cibber in the honorable office of poet laureate. Thus deservedly raised to comfortable independence, he continued the friend and associate of the two noblemen over whose education he had so carefully presided, and the many days which he passed in honorable hospitality, and in cheerful conversation, at Nuneham and Middleton parks, were proofs of the goodness of his heart, as much as of the virtues, and of the grateful generosity of his pupils. In the midst of these pleasing assiduities of friendship, he devoted much of his time to the Muses, and besides the occasional odes which loyalty and official duty claimed from his pen, he wrote the School for Lovers, a comedy performed at Drury-lane in 1762, and a satirical poem under the title of Charge to the Poets. Whitehead's death occurred on the fourteenth of April, 1785, at the mansion of the generous patron with whom he had passed so great a portion of his life. Besides the performances already mentioned, Whitehead wrote an easy and playful poem entitled Variety, the popularity of which is permanently fixed. Of this poem the following concluding lines form the moral :— The moral of my tale is this: But such variety alone As makes our home the more our own. As from the heart's impelling power So real happiness below Must from the heart sincerely flow; Nor, listening to the syren's song, THOMAS GRAY, author of the Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard, was born at Cornhill, London, on the twenty-sixth of December, 1716. His father was, by profession, a scrivener; and though a 'respectable citizen,' he was a man of so harsh and violent a temper, that his wife was compelled to separate from him. Cast, by this circumstance, upon her own resources, the excellent mother of Gray commenced the millinery business, with a sister as her partner; and so far succeeded as to be able to bestow upon her son a learned education, first at Eton, and afterwards at the university of Cambridge. The painful domestic circumstances of his youth gave a tinge of melancholy and pensive reflection to Gray's mind, which is visible in all his poetry. At Eton the young student had secured the friendship of Horace Walpole, son of the English prime minister; and when his college education was completed, Walpole induced him to accompany him on a tour through France and Italy. After they had passed about a year together, exploring the natural beauties, antiquities, and picture galleries of Rome, Florence, Naples, and other important places, a quarrel took place between them, the travellers separated, and Gray returned to England. Walpole took the blame of this difference on himself, as he was vain and volatile, and not disposed to trust in the better knowledge and somewhat fastidious tastes of his associate. Gray, immediately after his return, repaired to Cambridge to take his degree in civil law, but without intending to follow the profession. His father was now dead, and though his mother's fortune was small, still they possessed sufficient to supply all their wants. He fixed his residence at Cambridge; and amidst its noble libraries and learned society, passed most of the remainder of his life. He devoted himself chiefly to classical learning, though not without attending to architecture, antiquities, natural history, and other branches of useful knowledge. His retired life was varied by occasional visits to London, where he would revel among the treasures of the British Museum; and by frequent excursions to the country, to pass brief periods with his learned and attached friends. In 1765, Gray took a journey into Scotland, and at Glammis Castle met his brother poet, Beattie. He also penetrated into Wales, and journeyed to Cumberland and Westmoreland, to view the scenery of the lakes. The letters in which he describes these excursions are remarkable for elegance and precision, for correct and extensive observations, and for a dry scholastic humor peculiar to the poet. On his return from these agreeable holidays, Gray would set himself calmly down in his college retreat, pore over his favorite authors, compile tables of chronology or botany, moralize on 'all he felt and all he saw,' correspond with his friends, and occasionally venture into the realms of poetry and imagination. He had studied the Greek and Latin poets with such intense devotion and critical care, that their very spirit and essence seem to have sunk into his mind, and colored all his efforts at original composition. At the same time his knowledge of human nature, and his sympathy with the world, were varied and profound. Tears fell unbidden among the classic flowers of fancy, and in his almost monastic cell, his heart vibrated to the finest tones of humanity. In 1747, Gray published his Ode to Eton College, and two years after appeared his Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard. His Pindaric Odes appeared in 1757, but met with comparatively little success. His fame, however, was now so widely spread that he was offered the situation of poet-laureate, vacant by the death of Colley Cibber. Gray declined the appointment for the more lucrative situation of Professor of Modern History in the university, at a salary of four hundred pounds per annum. For some years he had been subject to hereditary gout, and as his circumstances improved, his health declined. While at dinner one day in the college hall, he was seized with an attack in the stomach, which was so violent, as to resist all the efforts of medicine, and after six days of suffering, he expired, on the thirtieth of July, 1771, in the fifty-fifth year of his age. He was buried, according to his own request, by the side of his mother, at Stoke, near Eton-adding one more poetical association to that beautiful and classic district of England. Gray's poetry is all comprised in a few pages, and yet, as a poet, he holds a very high rank. His two great odes, The Progress of Poesy, and The Bard, are the most splendid compositions, in the Pindaric style and measure, in the English language. Each presents rich personifications, striking thoughts, and happy imagery Sublime their starry fronts they rear. 'The Bard' is more dramatic and picturesque than 'The Progress of Poesy,' yet in the latter are some of the poet's richest and most majestic strains. Of these, the following sketch of the savage youth of Chili may be taken as an example: In climes beyond the solar road, Where shaggy forms o'er ice-built mountains roam, The muse has broke the twilight gloom, To cheer the shivering native's dull abode. And oft beneath the odorous shade Of Chili's boundless forests laid, She deigns to hear the savage youth repeat, In loose numbers wildly sweet, Their feather-cinctured chiefs and dusky loves. Her track, where'er the goddess roves, Glory pursue and generous shame, The unconquerable mind and Freedom's holy flame. To these lines we may add the following graphic delineation of the poetical characters of Shakspeare, Milton, and Dryden: Far from the sun and summer gale, In thy green lap was Nature's darling laid, Her awful face: the dauntless child Stretched forth his little arms, and smiled. 'This pencil take,' she said, 'whose colours clear Richly paint the vernal year: Thine, too, these golden keys, immortal boy! This can unlock the gates of Joy; |