On a bank with roses shaded, Whose sweet scent the violets aided Violets whose breath alone Yields but feeble smell or none, (Sweeter bed Jove ne’er reposed on When his eyes Olympus closed on,) While o’erhead six slaves did hold Canopy of cloth o’ gold, And two more did music keep Which might Juno lull to sleep, Oriana who was queen To the mighty Tamerlane, That was lord of all the land Between Thrace and Samarcand, While the noon-tide fervour beam’d, Mus’d herself to sleep, and _dream’d_. Thus far, in magnific strain, A young poet soothed his vein, But he had nor prose nor numbers To express a princess’ slumbers.-- Youthful Richard had strange fancies, Was deep versed in old romances, And could talk whole hours upon The great Cham and Prester John,-- Tell the field in which the Sophi From the Tartar won a trophy-- What he read with such delight of Thought he could as easily write of; But his over-young invention Kept not pace with brave intention. Twenty suns did rise and set, And he could no further get; But, unable to proceed, Made a virtue out of need; And his labours wiselier deem’d of, Did omit _what the queen dream’d of_. [Illustration] [Illustration: THE SISTER’S EXPOSTULATION ON THE BROTHER’S LEARNING LATIN] V Shut these odious books up, brother; They have made you quite another Thing from what you used to be: Once you liked to play with me, Now you leave me all alone, And are so conceited grown With your Latin, you’ll scarce look Upon any English book. We had used on winter eves To con over Shakespeare’s leaves, Or on Milton’s harder sense Exercise our diligence, And you would explain with ease The obscurer passages; Find me out the prettiest places, The poetic turns and graces, Which, alas! now you are gone, I must puzzle out alone; [Illustration] And oft miss the meaning quite, Wanting you to set me right. All this comes since you’ve been under Your new master. I much wonder What great charm it is you see In those words, _musa, musæ_; Or in what do they excel Our word _song_. It sounds as well To my fancy as the other. Now believe me, dearest brother, I would give my finest frock And my cabinet and stock Of new playthings, every toy, I would give them all with joy, Could I you returning see Back to English and to me. [Illustration] [Illustration: THE BROTHER’S REPLY] VI