And thou, O warrior maid invincible,
Arm'd with the terrors of Almighty Jove, 45
Pallas, Minerva, maiden terrible,
Lov'st thou to walk the peaceful solemn grove,
In solemn gloom of branches interwove?
Or bear'st thy Egis o'er the burning field.
Where, like the sea, the waves of battle move? 50
Or have thy soft piteous eyes beheld
The weary wanderer thro' the desert rove?
Or does th' afflicted man thy heav'nly bosom move?
When silver Snow decks Susan's cloaths, 1
And jewel hangs at th' shepherd's nose,
The blushing bank is all my care,
With hearth so red, and walls so fair;
'Heap the sea-coal, come, heap it higher, 5
The oaken log lay on the fire;'
The well-wash'd stools, a circling row,
With lad and lass, how fair the show!
The merry can of nut-brown ale.
The laughing jest, the love-sick tale, 10
'Till, tir'd of chat, the game begins.
The lasses prick the lads with pins;
Roger from Dolly twitch'd the stool.
She, falling, kiss'd the ground, poor fool!
She blush'd so red, with side-long glance 15
At hob-nail Dick, who griev'd the chance.
But now for Blind-man's Buff they call;
Of each incumbrance clear the hall—
Jenny her silken 'kerchief folds.
And blear-ey'd Will the black lot holds. 20
Poetical Sketches, pp. 26-28,
1, 2 When . . . nose] Compare the opening lines of 'Song by an Old Shepherd' (Appendix II):—'When silver snow decks Sylvia's clothes,
And jewel hangs at shepherd's nose.'
3 blushing bank] chimney nook DGR.
