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The Every-day Book and Table Book. v. 3 (of 3): Everlasting Calerdar of Popular Amusements, Sports, Pastimes, Ceremonies, Manners, Customs and Events, Incident to Each of the Three Hundred and Sixty-five Days, in past and Present Times; Forming a Complete History of the Year, Month, and Seasons, and a Perpetual Key to the AlmanacHone, William

History

The Every-day Book and Table Book. v. 3 (of 3): Everlasting Calerdar of Popular Amusements, Sports, Pastimes, Ceremonies, Manners, Customs and Events, Incident to Each of the Three Hundred and Sixty-five Days, in past and Present Times; Forming a Complete History of the Year, Month, and Seasons, and a Perpetual Key to the Almanac

Name: The Every-day Book and Table Book. v. 3 (of 3): Everlasting Calerdar of Popular Amusements, Sports, Pastimes, Ceremonies, Manners, Customs and Events, Incident to Each of the Three Hundred and Sixty-five Days, in past and Present Times; Forming a Complete History of the Year, Month, and Seasons, and a Perpetual Key to the Almanac
Author: Hone, William

Hone, William

Days; Great Britain -- Social life and customs

Pyrrhus, I’ll tell thee all. When now the night
    Grew black enough to hide a sculking action;
    And Heav’n had ne’er an eye unshut to see
    Her Representative on Earth creep ’mongst
    Those poor defenceless worms, whom Nature left
    An humble prey to every thing, and no
    Asylum but the dark; I softly stole
    To yonder grotto thro’ the upper walks,
    And there found my Urania. But I found her,
    I found her, Pyrrhus, not a Mistress, but
    A Goddess rather; which made me now to be
    No more her Lover, but Idolater.
    She only whisper’d to me, as she promised,
    Yet never heard I any voice so loud;
    And, tho’ her words were gentler far than those
    That holy priests do speak to dying Saints,
    Yet never thunder signified so much.
    And (what did more impress whate’er she said)
    Methought her whispers were my injured Queen’s,
    Her manner just like her’s! and when she urged,
    Among a thousand things, the injury
    I did the faithful’st Princess in the world;
    Who now supposed me sick, and was perchance
    Upon her knees offering up holy vows
    For him who mock’d both Heav’n and her, and was
    Now breaking of that vow he made her, when
    With sacrifice he call’d the Gods to witness:
    When she urged this, and wept, and spake so like
    My poor deluded Queen, Pyrrhus, I trembled;
    Almost persuaded that it was her angel
    Spake thro’ Urania’s lips, who for her sake
    Took care of me, as something she much loved.
    It would be long to tell thee all she said,
    How oft she sigh’d, how bitterly she wept:
    But the effect--Urania still is chaste;
    And with her chaster lips hath promised to
    Invoke blest Heav’n for my intended sin.

  C. L.

  [43] Is it possible that Cowper might have remembered this sentiment
  in his description of the advantages which the world, that scorns him,
  may derive from the noiseless hours of the contemplative man?

                    Perhaps she owes
    Her sunshine and her rain, her blooming spring
    And plenteous harvest, to the prayer he makes,
    When, Isaac-like, the solitary saint
    Walks forth to meditate at eventide,
    And think on her, who thinks not on herself.

  _Task._

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THE CUSHION DANCE.

_For the Table Book._

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