The bard, with many an artful fib,
Had in imagination fenc'd him,
Disprov'd the arguments of Squib,

And all that Groom could urge against him.

But soon his rhetoric forsook him,
When he the solemn hall had seen;
A sudden fit of ague shook him,

He stood as mute as poor Macleane.

Yet something he was heard to mutter,
"How in the park beneath an old tree,
(Without design to hurt the butter,
Or any malice to the poultry,)

"He once or twice had penn'd a sonnet;
Yet hop'd that he might save his bacon:
Numbers would give their oaths upon it,
He ne'er was for a conj'rer taken."

Var. V. 116. Might. Ms.




V. 115. Squib] Groom of the chamber.


James Squibb was the son of Dr. Arthur Squibb, the descendant of an ancient and respectable family, whose pedigree is traced in the herald's visitations of Dorsetshire, to John Squibb of Whitchurch in that county, in the 17th Edw. IV. 1477. Dr. Squibb matriculated at Oxford in 1656, took his degree of M.A. in November, 1662; was chaplain to Colonel Bellasis's regiment about 1685, and died in 1697. As he was in distressed circumstances towards the end of his life, his son, James Squibb, was left almost destitute, and was consequently apprenticed to an upholder in 1712. In that situation he attracted the notice of Lord Cobham, in whose service he con

The ghostly prudes with hagged face
Already had condemn'd the sinner.
My lady rose, and with a grace-

She smil'd, and bid him come to dinner.

"Jesu-Maria! Madam Bridget,

Why, what can the Viscountess mean?" (Cried the square-hoods in woful fidget)

"The times are alter'd quite and clean!

"Decorum's turn'd to mere civility;

Her air and all her manners show it.
Commend me to her affability!
Speak to a commoner and a poet!"

[Here five hundred stanzas are lost.]

And so God save our noble king,

And guard us from long-winded lubbers, That to eternity would sing,

And keep my lady from her rubbers.




tinued for many years, and died at Stowe, in June, 1762. His son, James Squibb, who settled in Saville Row, London, was grandfather of George James Squibb, Esq. of Orchard Street, Portman Square, who is the present representative of this branch of the family. Nicolas.

V. 116. Groom] The steward. G.

V. 120. Macleane] A famous highwayman hanged the week before. G.

See a Sequel to the Long Story in Hakewill's History of Windsor, by John Penn, Esq. and a farther Sequel to that, by the late Laureate, H. J. Pye, Esq.




Left unfinished by Gray. With additions by Mason, distinguished by inverted commas. (I have read something that Mason has done in finishing a half-written ode of Gray. I find he will never get the better of that glare of colouring, that dazzling blaze of song,' an expression of his own, and ridiculous enough, which disfigures half his writings. V. Langhorne's Lett. to H. More, i. 23.) See Musæ Etonenses, ii. p. 176.

Now the golden morn aloft

Waves her dew-bespangled wing,

V. 1. Sophocl. Antig. v. 103, xpvoćas àμépas Bλépapov; and Dyer. Fleece, lib. iii. "Grey dawn appears, the golden morn ascends." Luke.

V. 3. "Vermeil cheek," see Milton. Comus, v. 749. Luke. V. 4. "Rorifera mulcens aura, Zephyrus vernas evocat herbas." Senec. Hipp. i. 11. Luke.

V. 8. "Half rob'd appears the hawthorn hedge,

Or to the distant eye displays

Weakly green its budding sprays."

Warton. First of April, i. 180.

See Mant's note on the passage. Add Buchan. Psalm xxiii. Quæ Veris teneri pingit amoenitas."

p. 36.

V. 9.

"Hinc nova proles,

Artubus infirmis teneras lasciva per herbas
Lucret. i. 260.

With vermeil cheek and whisper soft

She wooes the tardy spring:
Till April starts, and calls around
The sleeping fragrance from the ground;
And lightly o'er the living scene,
Scatters his freshest, tenderest green.

New-born flocks, in rustic dance,
Frisking ply their feeble feet;
Forgetful of their wintry trance,

The birds his presence greet:
But chief, the sky-lark warbles high
His trembling thrilling extasy;

And, lessening from the dazzled sight,
Melts into air and liquid light.

Rise, my soul! on wings of fire,
Rise the rapt'rous choir among;




"O'er the broad downs a novel race,
Frisk the lambs with faltering pace."

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T. Warton, i. 185. V. 17. Mason informs us, that he has heard Gray say, that Gresset's "Epitre à ma Soeur" gave him the first idea of this ode; and whoever, he says, compares it with the French poem, will find some slight traits of resemblance, but chiefly in the author's seventh stanza. The following lines seem to have been in Gray's remembrance at this place:

"Mon âme, trop long tems flétrie

Va de nouveau s'épanouir;

Et loin de toute rêverie

Voltiger avec le Zéphire,

Occupé tout entier du soin du plaisir d'être," &c.

Lucret. v. 282, "liquidi fons luminis." Milt. P. L. vii. 362, "drink the liquid light." Luke.



Hark! 'tis nature strikes the lyre,
And leads the gen'ral song:


Warm let the lyric transport flow,
Warm as the ray that bids it glow;
And animates the vernal grove
With health, with harmony, and love.'

Yesterday the sullen year

Saw the snowy whirlwind fly;
Mute was the music of the air,
The herd stood drooping by:
Their raptures now that wildly flow,
No yesterday nor morrow know;
'Tis man alone that joy descries
With forward and reverted eyes.

Smiles on past misfortune's brow

Soft reflection's hand can trace;
And o'er the cheek of sorrow throw
A melancholy grace;

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V. 25. Milt. Son. xx. 3. "

Help waste a sullen day.”


V. 31. "Sure he that made us with such large discourse
Looking before and after."

Hamlet, act iv. sc. 4.

"Imperat, ante videt, perpendit, præcavit, infit." Prudent. p. 374. ed. Delph.

V. 41. "Where Pleasure's roses void of serpents grow."

Thomson. C. of Ind. c. ii. st. lvii.


V. 43. Dr. Warton refers to Pope. Essay on Man, ii. 270:

"See some strange comfort every state attend,

And pride bestow'd on all, a common friend:
See some fit passion every age supply:
Hope travels on, nor quits us till we die."

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