CHILD O mother, lay your costly robes aside, For you may never be another's bride. That line I learn'd not in the old sad song. MOTHER I pray thee, pretty one, now hold thy tongue, Play with the bridemaids; and be glad, my boy, For thou shalt be a second father's joy. CHILD. One father fondled me upon his knee. One father is enough, alone, for me. * * * * * QUEEN ORIANA'S DREAM. 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 Samarchand, While the noontide fervor beam'd, Mused himself 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 eas'ly 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 labors wiselier deem'd of, Did omit _what the queen dream'd of_. * * * * * A BALLAD. NOTING THE DIFFERENCE OF RICH AND POOR, IN THE WAYS OF A RICH NOBLE'S PALACE AND A POOR WORKHOUSE. _To the Tune of the "Old and Young Courtier."_ In a costly palace Youth goes clad in gold; In a wretched workhouse Age's limbs are cold: There they sit, the old men by a shivering fire, Still close and closer cowering, warmth is their desire. In a costly palace, when the brave gallants dine, They have store of good venison, with old canary wine, With singing and music to heighten the cheer; Coarse bits, with grudging, are the pauper's best fare. In a costly palace Youth is still carest By a train of attendants which laugh at my young Lord's jest; In a wretched workhouse the contrary prevails: Does Age begin to prattle?--no man heark'neth to his tales. In a costly palace if the child with a pin Do but chance to prick a finger, straight the doctor is called in; In a wretched workhouse men are left to perish For want of proper cordials, which their old age might cherish. In a costly palace Youth enjoys his lust; In a wretched workhouse Age, in corners thrust, Thinks upon the former days, when he was well to do, Had children to stand by him, both friends and kinsmen too.