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THE Threſher's Miſcellany: OR, POEMS ON Several Subjects,
Written by ARTHUR DUCK. Now a poor Threſher in the County of Suffolk, at the Wages of Five Shillings and Six Pence per Week, though formerly an Eton-Scholar.
Dedicated to the Right Honourable the EARL of MACCLESFIELD, in Order to be Read to Her Majeſty, and in Hopes of Her moſt Gracious Favour.
By Virtue of a Natural Right, to my own Property, I do hereby appoint my Name ſake Arthur Moore to print theſe POEMS, and that no other Perſon preſume to print the ſame. ARTHUR DUCK.
LONDON: Printed for A. MOORE, near St. Paul's. 1730. (Price Six Pence.)
TO THE Earl of MACCLESFIELD.
[]My LORD,
BY Civil Law the DUCKS firſt got a Name,*
And STEPHEN's Flail, not Verſe, has rais'd his Fame.
My Rural-Lines if Macclesfield but Read,
Will alſo, with my SOVERAIGN ſucceed.
Read then moſt Noble Earl, O read once more,
And let my Poetry increaſe my Store,
†TUSSER's Five Hundred Points of Husbandry
In Verſe; records his Name above the Sky.
[] Let not the Witlings then of London-Town,
Parnaſſian-Heights, a Sylvan-Muſe may try,
Thus—Britain's Queen, with Sheba's Queen, may vie.
O let this Truth, my Lord, but pave my way,
And your Petitioner ſhall ever pray, &c.
ARTHUR DUCK.
SOME ACCOUNT OF MY LIFE.
[]Gentle Reader,
THE good Town of Ipſwich now boaſts the Honour of my Birth, as it for⯑merly did that of the great Cardinal Wolſey.
I was conceived in Sin and brought forth in Iniquity, Anno 1680, ſo that I am double the Age of my Couſin Stephen Duck, and have therefore, you may rationally ſup⯑poſe, Ploughed, Harrowed, and Threſhed, [] twice as long, and all to no Purpoſe, unleſs the good Earl of Macclesfield will likewiſe read ſome of my Parnaſſian-Labours to our moſt Gracious Queen; but, I live in hopes that his Lordſhip will grant me this humble Boon, and that my Kinſman and I, may ſhare one equal Fate.
As to my Education, the moſt learned Dr. Arthur Duck, being my Godfather, I was by his Intereſt got upon the Foundation of Eton-College, and having gone through my School-Studies, I was, as well as my Country⯑man Thomas Tuſſer, for ſometime a Student in the Univerſity of Cambridge. In this ſeminary of the Muſes, our Alma-Mater being peeviſh, fretful, and generally out of Humour, I could not ſo much as Rhime my ſelf into a College-Fellowſhip. This I took, as Hudibras ſays, in great Dudgeon, more eſpecially, ſince it is well known that the whole Race of the DUCKS were born Poets.
I left King's-College, and came to aſſiſt my Parents in their Farming-Buſineſs at Ipſwich; where I ſoon found that Corn and Hops came to a much better Market than Greek and La⯑tin. [] Tho' in this firſt Part of my Ruſtic-Miſcellany,
I hope th' impartial Reader will diſcern,
I ne'er invok'd the Muſes in a Barn.
Upon the Death of my inteſtate Parents, being an only Child, there fell to me, by right of Inheritance, a very decent Country-Legacy, viz. Good ſtore of Grain, the Paſtures well ſtockt with Cattle, Provender for their Win⯑ter-Suſtenance, and a round ſum of Money. But, as Horace ſays,
My Way-ward, wandring Mind did not approve,
My happy State; I was inclin'd to rove:
And ſoon experienced the fatal Conſequences attending ſuch a Temper. In ſhort, I had no Notion of foreign Travel; nothing would ſerve me, but making the Tour of Change-Alley; where, in that memorable Year of Chronology 1720, I fell a Victim on the Altar which made a daily Sacrifice both of Cit and Bumpkin.
Thus having ſunk the Scholar in the Farmer; and the Farmer having undergone a South-Sea [] Ship wreck; I am now reduced to my Kinſ⯑man's Priſtine Vocation of God ſpeed the Plough.
My Wages, are indeed, five Shillings and Six-pence per Week, our County of Suffolk giving one Shilling more than they do in Wilt⯑ſhire; tho' alas, at this Price, it is with great Difficulty that Buckle and Throng, as we ſay, are brought together. However, I am in hopes of ſeeing better Days,‘Redeunt Saturnia Regna.’
To conclude, in one Word, my ſole Truſt is in my noble Patron, therefore
Whate'er thro' Carolina's Hand is ſent,
I'll praiſe Earl Macclesfield, and be Content.
ARTHUR DUCK.
P. S. I intend, God willing, to publiſh a ſecond Part of this Miſcellany, before the Meeting of the Parliament, by way of New-Years-Gift.
ROGER and URSULA: Or, LOVE in a HOG-STY.
[]I.
GAFFER and Gammer were faſt in their Neſt,
And all the young Fry of their Cribs were poſſeſs'd;
Spott, Whitefoot, and Puſs in the Aſhes were laid,
And a blinking Ruſh-Candle burnt over their Head.
And a blinking Ruſh, &c.
II.
URS'LA was waſhing her Diſhes and Platter,
Preparing to make her good Friend the Hog ſatter;
Greas'd up to the Elbows, as much to the Eye,
'Till her 'broidered Cloaths were e'en ready to fry.
'Till her 'broidered, &c.
III.
Cloſe by Her, ROGER the Plowman lay ſnoring,
CUPID being vex'd at his clowniſh adoring;
Did ſtraightway convey to the great Loggerhead,
The whiſpering News, that they all were in Bed.
The whiſpering &c.
[2]IV.
Upſtarted ROGER, and rubbing his Eyes,
To his deareſt ſweet URS'LA in a Paſſion he flies;
Then leaning his Elbows on URS'LA's broad Back,
He complain'd that his Heart was e'en ready to crack.
He complain'd, &c.
V.
URS'LA being vex'd at the Weight of her Love,
Cry'd, CUPID, why doſt Thou thus treacherous prove?
In an angry Mood ſhe then turn'd her about,
And the Diſh Clout lapp'd over the Face of the Lout.
And the, &c.
VI.
ROGER being angry at ſuch an Affront,
And not at all minding what wou'd come on't;
He gave her a Kick, with ſuch wonderous Mettle,
As tumbled poor URS'LA quite over the Kettle.
As tumbl'd, &c.
[3]VII.
At the Noiſe of this rumbling the Gaffer awaken,
And fearing leſt Thieves had been ſtealing his Bacon;
With a Pur in his Hand, down Stairs he comes ſtumbling,
Where he found Roger gaping whilſt Urs'la lay tumbling.
Where he found, &c.
VIII.
Pox take ye, quoth he, for a Rogue and a Whore,
So he turn'd theſe poor Lovers quite out of the Door,
(Ne'er minding the Rain, nor the cold windy Weather,)
To finiſh their Loves in a Hog-Sty together.
To finiſh, &c.
The MILK-MAID, a Song.
To the Tune of, When bright Aurelia, &c.
I.
MARIA when the Paps you preſs,
Each Morn beneath the Cow;
Do not the ſecret Thoughts of Bliſs,
Your Mind with fancied Joys poſſeſs,
And make you long to know?
[4]II.
See then the gentle curling Stream,
That fills your Pail ſo full,
'Tis turn'd to Floods of luſcious Cream,
Whene'er the Milk-Maid chance to Dream,
She's ſtroaking of a Bull.
III.
Let eaſier Work your Arms employ
Take better Things in Hand,
Since Heaven has made you fit for Joy,
Have Pity on the Amorous Boy,
Nor let him weeping ſtand.
IV.
Then leave off making three-meal-Cheeſe,
For every Plowman's Turn;
The ſofter Curds of Beauty ſqueeze,
And make Love's-Butter come with eaſe,
By jumbling Nature's Churn.
The PLOWMAN's Wiſh to his FRIEND.
[5]Votatus brevit [...], &c. Mart.
SINCE you, whom all the World admires
Wou'd know what your poor Friend requires,
Some little Spot of Earth he prays
To paſs Incognito his Days.
Who'd venture Conſcience, Eaſe, and Health,
For empty Pleaſures, uſeleſs Wealth?
Who'd be the tawdry Fool of War,
Or the more noiſy Knave at Bar?
That might in his own Fields and Wood,
Find his Diverſion, and his Food.
His Ponds with various Fiſhes ſtor'd,
The Bees for him their Honey hoard.
A Nut-brown LASS both kind and neat
To make his Bed, and dreſs his Meat.
He that hates me, or likes not this,
May he ne'er know ſo ſweet a Bliſs.
But fool'd with Riches, or Renown,
Still ſtay behind, and rot in Town.
Now or Never: Or, the MAID's Counſellor.
[6]I.
CONSULT, dear Nymph, your faithful Glaſs,
The Chryſtal Streams, the bord'ring Graſs,
Then think how Youth and Beauty paſs.
II.
MARIA once ſo fair and young,
No more's the burthen of our Song,
Since cruel TIME has done her Wrong.
III.
His Scythe has Mown her Roſy Cheek,
Cut down the Lillies of her Neck,
And crop'd the Flowers which Maids bedeck.
IV.
Her Eyes that pierc'd the yielding Soul,
The Toaſt to ev'ry Shepherd's Bowl,
Shall now no more our Hearts controul.
V.
Her Voice ſo ſweet, ſhe uſe to rear,
As brought the liſt'ning Birds to hear,
No longer Charms th' attentive Ear.
[7]VI.
Her Lips like Comb for Honey preſt,
Like Balls of Snow, her melting Breaſt,
By envious Age ſhe's all undreſt.
VII.
Every Roſe with drooping Leaves,
An Emblem of the Virgin gives,
Whoſe fooliſh Pride herſelf deceives.
VIII.
Then Damſels mark the fading Flow'r,
Preſume no longer in your Pow'r,
Bloſſom's vaniſh every Hour.
IX.
Let then the Youth no longer mourn,
Nor, by deſtructive Paſſion, burn,
For Charms once gone can ne'er return.
Epitaph on my Uncle's APE.
[8]UNDER this Slate do lye the laſt Remains
Of one, whom ſelf-conceited Man diſdains,
And ſcoffing calls an APE; but MAN was he,
If Tumblers, or if Dancing-Maſters be.
He did, Alive, in either Art excel;
And now's Gallanted, by Old-Maids, in Hell.
DAMON: Or, The Shepherd's PARADISE.
I.
WHERE Pines and Cedars form a Wood,
On either ſide a Chryſtal Flood;
Where CUPID makes his chief Abode,
And ſofteſt Scenes of Love.
Where Innocence adorns the Swain,
Where FLORA crowns the verdant Plain,
And PHILOMELA tunes a main,
The Bounties of great JOVE.
[9]II.
Where Plenty crowns each ſmiling Brow,
Without the toilſome Help of Plow,
The Flocks do bleat, and Oxen low,
While Birds melodious Sing;
And warble forth Dame Nature's Praiſe,
Where Phoebus ſheds his brighteſt Rays,
Beſtowing on thoſe happy Days,
An everlaſting Spring.
III.
Here wou'd I chuſe ſome rural Fair,
The only Object of my Care,
Nor be forſworn, nor yet deſpair,
By modern Arts betray'd.
Her Choice ſhou'd fix her Love on me,
Her Words and Actions all be free,
If GRATIANA ſuch wou'd be,
My Happineſs were made.
[10]IV.
Her Eyes wou'd give a chearful Day,
Her Smiles make ev'ry Shade look gay,
While at her Sight the Flocks wou'd play,
And Linnets ſtretch their Voice;
And ſure where'er my VENUS moves
The Shrubs ſhou'd riſe to Myrtle Groves,
And I'd ſupply a Train of Loves,
And get a Race of Boys.
CAROLETTA: Or, The Shepperdeſs.
MENALCAS ſure deſerves the Bays,
Who aims at CAROLETTA's Praiſe,
An airy, gay, and frisking She,
Not Fond, but without Coyneſs, free:
Her pretty Freedoms pleaſe the Wiſe,
And none are Jealous who have Eyes,
None can ſuſpect the Lovely Fair,
Or think Hypocriſy dwells there.
[11] Trace Her thro' ev'ry Part and Grace,
Thro' ev'ry Lineament of Face,
A living Miracle you'll find,
Of Body blended with the Mind;
A Humour Debonâir and Fit
To match her Beauty and her Wit:
By Beauty form'd to charm Mankind,
To conquer all our Sex deſign'd;
For Wit and Repartee renown'd,
With Words that Cure as well as Wound.
As when they cut a Brilliant-Stone
Such as with PIT of late was known,
At ev'ry Chip a Jewel flies,
And Sparkles after Sparkles riſe;
So when you once this Nymph provoke,
To Raillery, or chearful Joke,
New Beauties in each Notion ſhine,
New Turns of Thought with Thought combine,
Wit uncontroul'd which nought can ſtem,
And ev'ry Sentence is a Gem.
PHILLIS, a Song.
[12]I.
LET Fops of vain Happineſs proud,
Delight in Appearance and Noiſe;
Their Pleaſures divide with the Croud,
The Wiſe are more nice in their Joys.
II.
My PHILLIS is charming alone,
And all that behold her adore,
Then if I wou'd keep her my own,
No Rival muſt know of my Store.
III.
Adieu to the reſt of Mankind,
To Deſarts I fain wou'd retire;
In PHILLIS alone I ſhall find,
Whatever I want or deſire.
IV.
For ſoon as her Beauties appear,
New Brightneſs enlightens the Plain;
And only attended by her,
I'll envy no Monarch his Train.
POLYPHEMUS to his MISTRESS, from Ovid.
[13]O GALATEA, Thou'rt the Flow'r of May,
Tall as a Poplar, as a Meadow gay;
Splendid as Glaſs, gameſome as any Kid,
Airy as Cockles toſs'd by ev'ry Tide;
Grateful as Summer's Shade, or Winter's Shine,
Sweet as an Apple, ſightly as a Pine;
Smoother than mellow Grapes, whiter than Snow,
Soft as a Swan, or Stroakings from the Cow;
And if you did not ſhun my fond Embrace,
Fair as a Garden where a Fountain plays.
Again; thou'rt wild as any Colt unbroke,
Falſe as the Waves, obdurate as an Oak;
Weaker than ſallow Twigs, or than the Vine,
Harder than Rocks, more Head-ſtrong than the Rhine;
Proud as a Peacock when we him admire,
Sharper than Thorns, and hotter than the Fire;
Deaf as the Seas, cruel as Bears at Rut,
Fierce as an Adder trodden under Foot;
[14] And what the greateſt Plague of all I find,
You fly the Lover like the hunted Hind,
Fleeting as Air, and volatile as Wind.
Verſes writ upon a GLASS.
'TIS generous Wine refines our Clay,
And makes our Souls out-ſhine the Day;
'Tis BACCHUS guards our Health and Truth,
Inſpires our Wit, preſerves our Youth;
Enobles Friendſhip, downs Deceit,
And ſmooths the rugged Brow of Fate.
The only Cure of gloomy Spleen,
The Show'r that makes our Sky ſerene,
Then ſince the GOD has crown'd our Cup,
'Twere Folly not to drink it up.
The SPARROW, from CATULLUS.
Humbly Inſcribed to my much reſpected and honoured Kins-Woman, Mrs. GRACE HOWARD.
[15]MOURN all ye CUPIDS, Mourn ye little Loves,
Mourn ye fair Maids, and mourn ye pretty Doves;
My Lesbia's SPARROW Fate has rapt away,
Her darling Joy, and Pleaſure of her Day.
Sweeter he was, than ever Tongue can tell,
Well worthy Love, and was belov'd as well:
The pretty Sparrow his own Miſtreſs knew,
As well as infant Babes their Mothers do.
From her dear Lap his Wings he never mov'd,
But hover'd round, and ſhow'd how well he lov'd;
Round her fair Boſom ſtill he hopp'd and play'd,
And chirp'd with Joy about the lovely Maid.
But now poor Bird! treads PLUTO's gloomy ſhore,
Never, ah! never to return once more.
And you dark Shades of Hell's infernal Reign,
Ten thouſand Curſes for your Plague remain:
[16] Inſtant you ſeize on all that's Sweet and Gay,
Ev'n LESBIA's Bird, well-lov'd, you ſtole away.
O Fact accurſt! poor TOM at laſt is dead,
Hangs his weak Neck, and droops his ſickly Head:
Griev'd at the Loſs my LESBIA too appears,
Swells her fair Eye, and reddens into Tears.
To the Lady BRIDGET OSBORNE, with a Preſent of Grapes.
TH' Illuſtrious Planet that directs the Day,
To ev'ry Blade of Graſs extends a Ray,
A Blaze of Incenſe has been known to move,
The Powers below us, and the Pow'rs above;
Then Thou, my FAIR, accept without diſdain,
An humble Off'ring, from an humble Swain.
BRITANNIA is a Clime that well may boaſt
Its flow'ry Valleys, and its fruitful Coaſt;
Mild are the Seaſons, fragrant is the Air,
Large are her Harveſts, and her Product fair;
[17] But far above the reſt her Vines produce,
The lovelieſt Figure, and the kindeſt Juice.
Fruits fine as theſe could never be deſign'd,
For Creatures of a baſe and vulgar Kind;
No, they're deſign'd to entertain the Fair,
And ſuch as Heav'n makes its peculiar Care;
For them th' ambitious Grove attempts the Sky,
The Fountains murmur, and the Breezes ſigh;
For them the Lilly paints, the Violet blows,
And modeſt Bluſhes tinge the fragrant Roſe;
For them the Citron loads its Boughs anew,
And the glad Orange takes a golden Hue;
For them gay Flow'rs enamel all the Mead,
And other Olives to the laſt ſucceed;
For them our SUN the cluſter'd Grape refines,
For them our Elms are wedded with our Vines,
And condeſcend to take the ſpouſal Twines.
Thou faireſt of thy Sex and beſt, to THEE
Are due the choiceſt Riches of the Tree,
[18] Accept the ready Offerings of the Plain,
Confeſs th' Extent of this auſpicious Reign,
And never let us pay our V [...]ws in vain.
So when of old the Farmer's Toil was o'er,
And all his Barns were crouded with his Store,
To that indulgent Power that gave him Peace,
And to his Corn, and to his Herds increaſe;
He paid the nobleſt Profits of the Year,
With rigid Juſtice, and Religious Fear.
EPIGRAMS.
YOU've often averr'd I'm the perſecteſt Wit,
That ever you ſaw, or convers'd withal yet,
And I in return have has often profeſt,
That of all Womankind you're the faireſt and beſt.
The Aſſertions of Both, are equally true,
For as you Laugh at me, ſo do I Laugh at you.
ANOTHER.
PHILANDER loads his Board with noble Fare,
And ev'ry one that comes is welcome there,
[19] Be wiſe, PHILANDER, and thou than ſhalt ſee,
They love thy Burgundy, but Laugh at thee.
ANOTHER.
BELINDA is reduc'd, 'tis ſaid,
To proſtitute her ſelf for Bread;
And if they're ſure to hit the White,
That mingle Profit with Delight,
BELINDA's greatly in the Right.
ANOTHER.
Be not vain of your fancy'd Succeſs I deſire you,
Nor think that I love you becauſe I admire you;
A Monſter does doubtleſs deſerve Admiration,
As much as the prettieſt Girl in the Nation,
And hourly Experience, CORINNA, will ſhow ye,
A GRANNY is ſtare'd at, as much as a CHLOE.
ANOTHER.
Sir GEORGE the moſt uncertain of Mankind,
Turns with the Tide, and wavers with the Wind;
For well he knows all Times will favour him,
Who makes no Conſcience with the Times to Trim.
[22]From MARTIAL.
As Oaks in ſtormy Seaſons ſhed,
The treacherous Leaves they bear;
So CALVUS did but ſhake his Head,
And off he ſhook his Hair.
ANOTHER.
On Mr. PRIOR's Tomb in Weſtminſter-Abby.
This Buſto Lewis gave our Bard, his Strains,
At leaſt the beſt, are borrow'd from Fontaine's:
Then what wou'd Prior be, ſhou'd Gallia claim,
Her gifted Monument, and borrow'd Fame!
An Imitation of OVID in Diſtreſs.
Ille ego qui fneram tenerorum luſor-amorum.
I'M he who once indulg'd an amorous Vein,
And thought all Poets of a heavenly Strain,
My eaſy Heart each puny Girl ſubdu'd,
Coquets I flatter'd, and ador'd the Prude,
Thanks to my Muſe for ſhe thoſe Joys refin'd,
Diſſolv'd my Cares, and made Corinna kind,
[21] Without reſtraint I paſs'd my Youths beſt Hours,
In eaſy Studies, or in ſoft Amours.
You Father Bacchus now extend your Aid,
Remember I was once a roaring Blade,
The Gods themſelves have Feſtivals of Mirth,
'Tis then they ſhow'r their Bleſſings down on Earth;
And you dear Friends, and Brothers of the Quill,
Remember me, and each his Bumper fill,
When you the Name of honeſt Naſo hear,
Set down the Glaſs, and drop a friendly Tear,
Look round about, and with a tender Voice,
Cry, where's the faithful Part'ner of our Joys,
Whilſt I alone beguile the tedious Day,
With Books, and ſtrive to read my Cares away;
I baniſh Fate's Unkindneſs from my Mind,
And fancy o'er the Joys I left behind;
My Muſe to me is all the World beſide,
My kind Phyſician, and my loving Bride.
EPITAPH on a SEXTON.
[20]I.
HERE lies old HARE,
Worn out with Care,
Who whilom toll'd the Bell,
Could dig a Grave,
Or ſet a Stave,
And ſay Amen full well.
II.
For ſacred Song,
He'ad HOPKIN's Tongue,
And STERNHOLD's eke alſo;
With Cough and Hem,
He ſtood by them,
As far's his Word would go.
III.
Full many a Feaſt,
For Worms, he dreſs'd;
Himſelf yet wanted Bread.
But he is gone,
With Skin and Bone,
To Starve 'em now he's Dead.
[23]IV.
Here, take his Spade,
And uſe his Trade,
Now he is out of Breath,
Cover the Bones,
Of him who once,
Wrought Journey Work for DEATH.
An Imitation of Horace's ODE on FORTUNE.
I.
SOME hoiſt up Fortune to the Skies,
Others debaſe her to a Bubble;
I, nor her Frowns, nor Favours prize,
Nor think the Chang'ling worth my Trouble.
II.
If, at my Door ſhe chance to light,
I civilly my Gueſt receive;
The Viſit paid, I bid Good-Night;
Nor murmur, when ſhe takes her Leave.
[24]III.
Tho' proſp'rous Gales my Canvas croud,
Tho' ſmooth the Waves, ſerene the Sky,
I truſt not Calms; they Storms forebode,
And ſpeak th' approaching Tempeſt nigh.
IV.
Then Virtue to the Helm repair,
Thou, Innocence, ſhalt guide the Oar;
Now rage ye Winds; Storms rend the Air,
My Barque thus Mann'd, ſhall gain the Shore.
EPITAPH on the late Duke of B * * *.
HERE GRUBINOT lies, on very ill Terms,
Firſt, a Prey to the Flies; and then to the Worms.
Thoſe who grieve at his Loſs, needn't wonder he's gone;
For the Carcaſe muſt rot; when the Fleſh is Fly-blown.
But this muſt be ſaid in his Praiſe,
Tho' Death, cruel Death, from us forc'd him;
He dy'd by endeav'ring to raiſe,
His old Friend that lay Dead before him.
The END of PART I.
Notes
*
ARTHUR DUCK, LL.D. wrote a moſt excellent Treatiſe, intitled, De Authoritate Juris Civilis, 8vo.
†
THOMAS TUSSER (a Suffolk Farmer) Flor. Temp. EDW. VI.
*
Alluſion to Perſius, Sat. 1. Verſ. 10 and 11.
— this vaſt univerſal Fool, the Town,
Shou'd cry up Lab [...]'s Stuff, and cry Me down.
DRYDEN.
- Zitationsvorschlag für dieses Objekt
- TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 5094 The thresher s miscellany or poems on several subjects written by Arthur Duck Now a poor thresher in the county of Suffolk though formerly an Eton scholar. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-5F51-F