THE SCHOOL-MISTRESS. A POEM, In Imitation of Spenser.

THE SCHOOL-MISTRESS . A POEM , In Imitation of Spenser . By William Shenstone , Esq ; Auditae voces ; vagitus & ingens , Infantumque animae flentes in Limine primo . Virg. Virgil, Aeneid 6.426f. ADVERTISEMENT .

What particulars in Spenser were imagin'd most proper for the Author's imitation on this occasion , are his language , his simplicity , his manner of description , and a peculiar tenderness of sentiment remarkable throughout his works .

I. AH me ! full sorely is my heart forlorn , To think how modest worth neglected lies ; While partial fame doth with her blasts adorn Such deeds alone , as pride and pomp disguise ; Deeds of ill sort , and mischievous emprize ! Lend me thy clarion , goddess ! let me try To sound the praise of merit , ere it dies ; Such as I oft have chaunced to espy , Lost in the dreary shades of dull obscurity . II . In every village mark'd with little spire , Embow'r'd in trees , and hardly known to Fame , There dwells , in lowly shed , and mean attire , A matron old whom we school-mistress name ; Who boasts unruly brats with birch to tame . They grieven sore , in piteous durance pent , Aw'd by the pow'r of this relentless dame ; And oft-times on vagaries idly bent , For unkempt hair , or task unconn'd , are sorely shent . III . And all in sight doth rise a birchen tree , Which Learning near her little dome did stowe ; Whilom a twig of small regard to see , Tho' now so wide its waving branches flow ; And work the simple vassals mickle woe ; For not a wind might curl the leaves that blew , But their limbs shudder'd , and their pulse beat low ; And , as they look'd , they found their horror grew , And shap'd it into rods , and tingled at the view . IV . So have I seen ( who has not , may conceive , ) A lifeless phantom near a garden plac'd : So doth it wanton birds of peace bereave , Of sport , of song , of pleasure , of repast ; They start , they stare , they wheel , they look aghast : Sad servitude ! such comfortless annoy May no bold Briton's riper age e'er taste ! Ne Superstition clog his dance of joy , Ne vision empty , vain , his native bliss destroy . V. Near to this dome is found a patch so green , On which the tribe their gambols do display ; And at the door impris'ning board is seen , Lest weakly wights of smaller size shou'd stray ; Eager , perdie , to bask in sunny day ! The noises intermix'd , which thence resound , Do Learning's little tenement betray : Where sits the dame , disguis'd in look profound , And eyes her fairy throng , and turns her wheel around . VI . Her cap , far whiter than the driven snow , Emblem right meet of decency does yield : Her apron dy'd in grain , as blue , I trowe , As is the Hare-bell that adorns the field : And in her hand , for scepter , she does wield Tway birchen sprays ; with anxious Fear entwin'd , With dark Distrust , and sad Repentance fill'd ; And stedfast Hate , and sharp Affliction join'd , And Fury uncontroul'd , and Chastisement unkind . VII . Few but have ken'd , in semblance meet pourtray'd , The childish faces of old Eol's train ; Libs , Notus , Auster : these in frowns array'd , How then would fare or earth , or sky , or main , Were the stern god to give his slaves the rein ? And were not she rebellious breasts to quell , And were not she her statutes to maintain , The cott no more , I ween , were deem'd the cell , Where comely peace of mind , and decent order dwell . VIII . A russet stole was o'er her shoulders thrown ; A russet kirtle fenc'd the nipping air ; 'Twas simple russet , but it was her own ; 'Twas her own country bred the flock so fair ; 'Twas her own labour did the fleece prepare ; And sooth to say , her pupils , rang'd around , Thro' pious awe , did term it passing rare ; For they in gaping wonderment abound , And think , no doubt , she been the greatest wight on ground . IX . Albeit ne flatt'ry did corrupt her truth , Ne pompous title did debauch her ear ; Goody , good-woman , gossip , n'aunt , forsooth , Or dame , the sole additions she did hear ; Yet these he challeng'd , these she held right dear : Ne would esteem him act as mought behove , Who should not honour'd eld with these revere : For never title yet so mean could prove , But there was eke a Mind which did that title love . X. One ancient hen she took delight to feed , The plodding pattern of the busy dame ; Which , ever and anon , impell'd by need , Into her school , begirt with chickens , came ; Such favour did her past deportment claim : And , if Neglect had lavish'd on the ground Fragment of bread , she would collect the same ; For well she knew , and quaintly could expound , What sin it were to waste the smallest crumb she found . XI . Herbs too she knew , and well of each could speak That in her garden sipp'd the silv'ry dew ; Where no vain flow'r disclos'd a gaudy streak ; But herbs for use , and physick , not a few , Of grey renown , within those borders grew : The tufted Basil , pun-provoking Thyme , Fresh Baum , and Mary-gold of cheerful hue ; The lowly Gill that never dares to climb ; And more I fain would sing , disdaining here to rhime . XII . Yet Euphrasy may not be left unsung , That gives dim eyes to wander leagues around ; And pungent Radish , biting infant's tongue ; And Plantain ribb'd that heals the reaper's wound ; And Marj'ram sweet , in shepherd's posie found ; And Lavender , whose spikes of azure bloom Shall be , ere-while , in arid bundles bound , To lurk amidst the labours of her loom , And crown her kerchiefs clean , with mickle rare perfume . XIII . And here trim Rosmarine , that whilom crown'd The dantiest garden of the proudest peer ; Ere , driven , from its envy'd site , it found A sacred shelter for its branches here ; Where edg'd with gold its glitt'ring skirts appear . Oh wassel days ; O customs meet and well ! Ere this was banish'd from its lofty sphere : Simplicity then sought this humble cell , Nor ever would She more with thane and lordling dwell . XIV . Here oft the dame , on Sabbath's decent eve , Hymned such psalms as Sternhold forth did mete , If winter 'twere , she to her hearth did cleave ; But in her garden found a summer seat : Sweet melody ! to hear her then repeat How Israel's sons , beneath a foreign king , While taunting foe-men did a song intreat , All , for the Nonce , untuning ev'ry string , Up hung their useless lyres — small heart had they to sing . XV. For she was just , and friend too virtuous lore , And pass'd much time in truly virtuous deed ; And , in those Elsins ears , would oft deplore The times , when Truth by Popish rage did bleed ; And tortious death was true devotion's meed ; And simple Faith in iron chains did mourn , That would on wooden image place her creed ; And lawny saints in mould'ring flames did burn : Ah ! dearest Lord , forefend , thilk days should e'er return . XVI . In elbow chair , like that of Scottish stem By the sharp tooth of cank'ring eld defac'd , In which , when he receives his diadem , Our sovereign prince and liefest liege is plac'd , The matron sate ; and some with rank she grac'd , ( The source of childen's and of courtier's pride ! ) Redress'd affronts , for vile affronts there pass'd ; And warn'd them not the fretful to deride , But love each other dear , whatever them betide . XVII . Right well she knew each temper to descry ; To thwart the proud , and the submiss to raise ; Some with vile copper prize exalt on high , And some entice with pittance small of praise ; And other some with baleful sprig she 'frays ; Ev'n absent , she the reins of pow'r doth hold , While with quaint arts the giddy crowd she sways ; Forewarn'd , if little bird their pranks behold , 'Twill whisper in her ear , and all the scene unfold . XVIII . Lo now with state she utters the command ! Eftsoons the urchins to their tasks repair ; Their books of stature small they take in hand , Which with pellucid horn secured are ; To save from finger wet the letters fair : The work so gay , that on their back is seen , St. George's high atchievements does declare ; On which thilk wight that has y-gazing been , Kens the forth-coming rod , unpleasing sight , I ween ! XIX . Ah luckless he , and born beneath the beam Of evil star ! it irks me whilst I write ! As erst the Spenser . bard by Mulla's silver stream , Oft , as he told of deadly dolorous plight , Sigh'd as he sung , and did in tears indite . For brandishing the rod , she doth begin To loose the brogues , the stripling's late delight ! And down they drop ; appears his dainty skin , Fair as the furry coat of whitest Ermilin . XX . O ruthful scene ! when from a nook obscure , His little sister doth his peril see : All playful as she sate , she grows demure ; She finds full soon her wonted spirits flee ; She meditates a pray'r to set him free : Nor gentle pardon could this dame deny , ( If gentle pardon could with dames agree ) To her sad grief that swells in either eye , And wrings her so that all for pity she could dye . XXI . Nor longer can she now her shrieks command ; And hardly she forbears , thro' aweful fear , To rushen forth , and , with presumptuous hand , To stay harsh justice in its mid career . On thee she calls , on thee her parent dear ! ( Ah ! too remote to ward the shameful blow ! ) She sees no kind domestick visage near , And soon a flood of tears begins to flow ; And gives a loose at last to unavailing woe . XXII . But ah ! what pen his piteous plight may trace ? Or what device his loud laments explain ? The form uncouth of his disguised face ? The pallid hue that dyes his looks amain ? The plenteous show'r that does his cheek distain ? When he , in abject wise , implores the dame , Ne hopeth ought of sweet reprieve to gain ; Or when from high she levels well her aim , And , thro' the thatch , his cries each falling stroke proclaim . XXIII . The other tribe , aghast , with sore dismay , Attend , and conn their tasks with mickle care : By turns , astony'd , ev'ry twig survey , And , from their fellow's hateful wounds , beware ; Knowing , I wist , how each the same may share ; Till Fear has taught them a performance meet , And to the well-known chest the dame repair ; Whence oft with sugar'd cates she doth 'em greet , And ginger-bread y-rare ; now , certes , doubly sweet ! XXIV . See to their seats they hye with merry glee , And in beseemly order sitten there ; All but the wight of bum y-galled , he Abhorreth bench and stool , and fourm , and chair ; ( This hand in mouth y-fix'd , that rends his hair ; ) And eke with snubs profound , and heaving breast , Convulsions intermitting ! does declare His grievous wrong ; his dame's unjust behest ; And scorns her offer'd love , and shuns to be caress'd . XXV . His face besprent with liquid crystal shines , His blooming face that seems a purple flow'r , Which low to earth its drooping head declines , All smear'd and sully'd by a vernal show'r . O the hard bosoms of despotick pow'r ! All , all , but she , the author of his shame , All , all , but she , regret this mournful hour : Yet hence the youth , and hence the flow'r , shall claim , If so I deem aright , transcending worth and fame . XXVI . Behind some door , in melancholy thought , Mindless of food , he , dreary caitiff ! pines ; Ne for his fellow's joyaunce careth ought , But to the wind all merriment resigns ; And deems it shame , if he to peace inclines ; And many a sullen look ascance is sent , Which for his dame's annoyance he designs ; And still the more to pleasure him she's bent , The more doth he , perverse , her haviour past resent . XXVII . Ah me ! how much I fear lest pride it be ! But if that pride it be , which thus inspires , Beware , ye dames , with nice discernment see , Ye quench not too the sparks of nobler fires : Ah ! better far than all the Muse's lyres , All coward arts , is valour's gen'rous heat ; The firm fixt breast which Fit and Right requires , Like Vernon's patriot soul ; more justly great Than craft that pimps for ill , or flow'ry false deceit . XXVIII . Yet nurs'd with skill , what dazling fruits appear ! Ev'n now sagacious Foresight points to show A little bench of heedless bishops here , And there a chancellour in embryo , Or bard sublime , if bard may e'er be so , As Milton , Shakespeare , names that ne'er shall dye ! Tho' now he crawl along the ground so low , Nor weeting how the Muse shou'd soar on high , Wisheth , poor starving elf ! his paper-kite may fly . XXIX . And this perhaps , who , cens'ring the design , Low lays the house which that of cards doth build , Shall Dennis be ! if rigid fates incline , And many an Epick to his rage shall yield ; And many a poet quit th' Aonian field ; And , sour'd by age , profound he shall appear , As he who now with 'sdainful fury thrill'd Surveys mine work ; and levels many a sneer , And furls his wrinkly front , and cries " What stuff is here ? " XXX . But now Dan Phoebus gains the middle skie , And Liberty unbars their prison-door ; And like a rushing torrent out they fly , And now the grassy cirque han cover'd o'er With boist'rous revel-rout and wild uproar ; A thousand ways in wanton rings they run , Heav'n shield their short-liv'd pastimes , I implore ! For well may Freedom , erst so dearly won , Appear to British elf more gladsome than the sun . XXXI . Enjoy , poor imps ! enjoy your sportive trade ; And chase gay flies , and cull the fairest flow'rs ; For when my bones in grass-green sods are laid ; For never may ye taste more careless hours In knightly castles , or in ladies bow'rs . O vain to seek delight in earthly thing ! But most in courts where proud Ambition tow'rs ; Deluded wight ! who weens fair peace can spring Beneath the pompous dome of kesar or of king . XXXII . See in each sprite some various bent appear ! These rudely carol most incondite lay ; Those saunt'ring on the green , with jocund leer Salute the stranger passing on his way ; Some building fragile tenements of clay ; Some to the standing lake their courses bend , With pebbles smooth at duck and drake to play ; Thilk to the huxter's sav'ry cottage tend , In pastry kings and queens th' allotted mite to spend . XXXIII . Here , as each season yields a different store , Each season's stores in order ranged been ; Apples with cabbage-net y-cover'd o'er , Galling full sore th' unmoney'd wight are seen ; And goose-b'rie clad in liv'ry red or green ; And here of lovely dye , the Cath'rine pear , Fine pear ! as lovely for thy juice , I ween : O may no wight e'er penny-less come there , Lest smit with ardent love he pine with hopeless care ! XXXIV . See ! cherries here , ere cherries yet abound , With thread so white in tempting posies ty'd , Scatt'ring like blooming maid their glances round , With pamper'd look draw little eyes aside ; And must be bought though penury betide . The plumb all azure and the nut all brown , And here each season , do those cakes abide , Whose honour'd names th' inventive city own , Rend'ring thro' Britain's isle Salopia's praises known . Shrewsbury cakes . XXXV. Admir'd Salopia ! that with venial pride Eyes her bright form in Severn's ambient wave , Fam'd for her loyal cares in perils tried , Her daughters lovely , and her striplings brave ; Ah ! 'midst the rest , may flowers adorn his grave , Whose art did first these dulcet cates display ! A motive fair to Learning's imps he gave , Who cheerless o'er her darkling region stray ; 'Till reason's morn arise , and light them on their way .