"Is that the cafe? o'ertake your master,
“Tell him, from me, to gallop faster;
"For if our keeper gets him here,
"He'll tie him down, at leaft, a year."

RULES

FOR THE SITUATION AND CONSTRUCTION OF

COUNTRY SEATS.

BY RICHARD JAGO, M. A.

WOULD ye, with faultless judgment, learn to plan

The rural feat? to copy, as ye rove,

The well-form'd picture, and correct defign?
Firft fhun the falfe extremes of high and low;
With watry vapours this your fretted walls
Will foon deface; and that, with rough affault,
And frequent te ppeft, shake your tott'ring roof.
Me moft the gentle eminence delights

Of healthy champaign, to the funny fouth
Fair op'ning, and with woods, and circling hills,
Nor too remote, nor, with too close embrace,
Stopping the buxom air, behind enclos'd.
But if your lot hath fall'n in fields lefs fair,
Confult their genius, and, with due regard
To nature's clear directions, fhape your plan;
The fite too lofty fhelter; and the low,

With

With funny lawns, and open areas cheer.
The marifh drain, and, with ca; acious urns,
And well conducted ftreams, refresh the dry.
So fhall your lawns with healthful verdure finile,
While others, fick'ning at the fultry blaze,
A ruffet wild difplay, or the rank blade,
And matted tufts the careless owner fhame.
Seek not, with fruitless coft, the level plain
To raise aloft, nor fink the rifing hill.

Each hath its charms, though different, cach, in kind,

Improve, not alter. Art with art conceal.
Let no ftrait terrac'd lines your flopes deform,
No barb'rous walls reftrain the bounded fight.
With better kill your chefte defigns difplay;
And to the diftant fields the clofer fcene
Connect. The fpacious lawn with scatter'd trees
Irregular, in beauteous negligence,
Clothe bountiful. Your unimprifon'd eye,
With pleafing freedom, thro' the lofty maze
Shall rove, and find no dull fatiety.

The wind.ng ftream with fiffen'd line avoid
To torture, nor prefer the long canal,
Or labour'd fount, to nature's easy flow,
And artless fall. Your gravly winding paths
Now to the fresh'ning breeze, or funny giram
Directed, now with high embow'ring trees,
Or fragrant fhrubs conceal'd with frequent fent,
And rural structure deck. Their pleating fort

To fancy's eye fuggests inhabitants

Of more than mortal make, and their cool fhade,
And friendly fhelter, to refreshment sweet
And wholefome meditation fhall invite.

To ev'ry ftructure give its proper fite.
Nor, on the dreary heath, the gay alcove,
Nor the lone hermit's cell or mournful urn,
Build, on the fprightly lawn. The graffy slope
And fheltered border for the cool arcade,
Or Tuscan porch reserve. To the chafte dome,
And fair rotunda give the swelling mount
Of frefheft green. If to the Gothic scene
Your tafte incline, in the well-water'd vale,
With lofty pines embrown'd, the mimic fane,
And mould'ring abbey's fretted windows place,
The craggy rock, or precipitious hill,
Shall well become the castle's maffy walls,
In royal villas the palladian arch,
And Grecian portico, with dignity,

Their pride display: ill suits their lofty rank The fimpler scene. If chance hiftoric deeds Your fields diftinguish, count them doubly fair, And ftudious, aid, with monumental stone, And faithful comment, fancy's fond review.

ON

ON A LADY'S ASKING A GENTLEMAN HOW MUCH HE LOVED HER.

TO MISS

MY paffion, Sylvia, to prove,

You bid me tell how much I love.
I love thee then-but language fails—
More than bees love flow'ry vales;
More than turtle loves his dove;
More than warblers love the grove:
More than nature loves the spring;
More than linnet loves to fing;
More than infects funny beams;
More than poets airy dreams;
More than fifhes love the flood;
More than patriots publick good;
More than flocks the graffy plains,
More than hinds increasing rains ;
More than statesman loves his plot ;
More than am'rous age to doat;
More than lords their pedigree;
More than Britons to be free;
More than heirs love twenty-one;
More than heroes laurels won;
More than elves the moon-light fhade

More than ancient maids to wed;

More

More than hermit loves his cell;
More than beauty to excel;

More than mifer loves his ftore;

More than myself-can I do more?

D. M.

AN ELEGY ON THE FIRST OF SEPTEMBER,

WHEN PARTRIDGES ARE ALLOWED TO BE KILLED BY ACT OF PARLIAMENT.

WHEN the ftill night withdrew her fable

fhroud,

And left these climes with fteps fedate and flow; Whilft fad Aurora kerchief'd in a cloud,

With drizzly vapours hung the mountain's brow:

The wretched bird from haple's + Perdix sprung,
With trembling wings forfook the furrow'd plair
And calling round her all her lift'ning young,
In falt'ring accents fung this plaintive strain :

"Unwelcome morn! full well thy low'ring mien "Foretells the flaughters of th' approaching day; "The gloomy fky laments with tears the scene, "Where pale-ey'd terror re-affumes her sway.

Ah,

+ Perdix was fuppofed to be turned into a partridge. See Ovid's Metamorphofes.