"One April morn, when from the sea
Phœbus was just appearing!
Damon and Celia young and gay,
Long settled Love indearing;
Met in a grove to vent their spleen,
On parents unrelenting;
He bred of Tory race had been,
She of the tribe Dissenting.
"Celia, whose eyes outshone the God,
Newly the hills adorning,
Told him mamma wou'd be stark mad,
She missing prayers that morning;
Damon, his arm around her waist,
Swore tho' nought should 'em sunder,
Shou'd my rough dad know how I'm blest,
T'would make him roar like thunder.
"Great ones whom proud ambition blinds,
By faction still support it,
Or where vile money taints the mind,
They for convenience court it;
But mighty Love, that scorns to show,
Party should raise his glory;
Swears he'll exalt a vassal true,
Let it be Whig or Tory."
The following is a song from "The Country Miss and her Furbelow."
"Celladon, when spring came on,
Woo'd Sylvia in a grove,
Both gay and young, and still he sung
The sweet Delights of Love.
Wedded joys in girls and boys,
And pretty chat of this and that,
The honey kiss, and charming bliss
That crowns the marriage bed;
He snatched her hand, she blushed and fanned
And seemed as if afraid,
'Forbear!' she crys, 'youre fawning lyes,
I've vowed to die a maid.'
"Celladon at that began
To talk of apes in hell,
And what was worse, the odious curse
Of growing old and stale.
Loss of bloom, when wrinkles come,
And offers kind when none will mind,
The rosie joy, and sparkling eye
Grown faded and decayed,
At which, when known, she changed her tone,
And to the shepherd said,
'Dear swain, give o'er, I'll think once more,
Before I'll die a maid.'"
D'Urfey was a disciple of the "gentle art." Addison says "I must not omit that my friend angles for a trout, the best of any man in England. Mayflies come in late this season, or I myself should have had one of his hooking." We can thus understand his enthusiastic commendation of fishing—
"Of all the world's enjoyments,
That ever valu'd were,
There's none of our employments,
With fishing can compare;
Some preach, some write,
Some swear, some fight,
All golden lucre courting,
But fishing still bears off the bell
For profit or for sporting.
"Chorus.—Then who a jolly fisherman, a fisherman will be?
His throat must wet,
Just like his net,
To keep out cold at sea.
"The country squire loves running
A pack of well-mouthed hounds,
Another fancies gunning
For wild ducks in his grounds;
This hunts, that fowls,
This hawks, Dick bowls,
No greater pleasure wishing,
But Tom that tells what sport excels,
Gives all the praise to fishing.
Then who, &c.
"A good Westphalia gammon
Is counted dainty fare;
But what is't to a salmon
Just taken from the Ware;
Wheat-ears and quailes,
Cocks, snipes and rayles,
Are prized while season's lasting,
But all must stoop to crawfish soup,
Or I've no skill in casting.
Then who, &c.
"And tho' some envious wranglers,
To jeer us will make bold,
And laugh at patient anglers,
Who stand so long i' th' cold;
They wait on Miss,
We wait on this,
And think it easie labour;
And if you know, fish profits too,
Consult our Holland neighbour.
Then who, &c."
D'Urfey was a favourite with Queen Anne, and many of his poems were written at Knole, Penshurst, and other seats of the nobility.
Up to the time we have now reached, we have not had the opportunity of enrolling the name of a lady among our humorists. Although in society so many of the fair sparkle and overflow with quick and graceful raillery, we find that when they come to impress their thoughts upon paper they are invariably sentimental. Authors are often a contrast to their writings, but no doubt the female mind is generally of a poetical complexion. Thus, in the early part of the last century we meet with only three lady humorists, Mrs. Manley, mostly noted for her scandalous stories: Mrs. Behn, whose humour was crude, chiefly that of rough harlequinade and gross immorality, and Mrs. Centlivre. Early opportunities of study were afforded to the last in a remarkable way. When flying from the anger of her stepmother, she met Anthony Hammond, then at Cambridge, and went to live with him at the University, disguised in boy's clothes. Remarkable for her beauty, she married, when only fifteen, a nephew of Sir Stephen Fox, and upon his death at sixteen, a Captain Carrol, who was killed in a duel. It was then partly owing to pecuniary embarrassments that she went on the stage and wrote plays—the first of her dramas appearing in her twentieth year. So great was the prejudice then against lady writers, that at her publisher's suggestion her first production was anonymous. But those, who began by deriding her pretensions, ended by acknowledging her merit; she became a great favourite and constant writer for the stage, and an intimate friend of Farquhar and Steele. There is an absence of indelicacy in her plays, but not a little farcical humour, especially in the character of "Marplot" in "The Busybody," and of rich "Mrs. Dowdy" with her vulgarity and admirers in "The Platonic Lady." She often adopts the tone of the day in ridiculing learned ladies. In one place she speaks as if even at that time the founding of a college for ladies was in contemplation—
Lady Reveller. Why in such haste, Cousin Valeria?
Valeria. Oh! dear Cousin, don't stop me; I shall lose the finest insect for dissection, a huge flesh fly, which Mr. Lovely sent me just now, and opening the box to try the experiment, away it flew.
Lady. I am glad the poor fly escaped; will you never be weary of these whimsies?