A thoufand hoels and well mo
To letten the foune out go;
And by day in every tide
Ben all the doors open wide,
And by night each one unfhet;
No porter is there one to let,
No manner tydings in to pace:
Ne never reft is in that place.

VER. 428. As flames by nature to the, etc.] This thought is transferred hither out of the third book of Fame, where it takes up no lefs than one hundred and twenty verfes, beginning thus,

Geffray, thou wottest well this, &c.

VER. 448. There various news I heard, etc.] ·
Of werres, of peace, of marriages,

Of reft, of labour, of voyages,
Of abode, of dethe, and of life,
Of love and hate, accord and ftrife,
Of lofs, of lore, and of winnings,
Of hele, of fickness, and leffings,
Of divers tranfmutations
Of eftates and eke of regions,
Of truft, of drede, of jealoufy,
Of wit of winning and of folly,
Of good, or bad government,
Of fire, and of divers accident.

VER. 458. Above, below, without, within, etc.]
But fuch a great congregation

Of folke as I faw roame about,
Some within, and fome without,

Was never feen, nay fhall be eft---

And every wight that I faw there
Rowned everich in others ear

A new tyding privily,

Or else he told it openly

Right thus, and faid, Knowft not thou
That is betide to night now?

No, quoth he, tell me what?

And then he told him this and that, &c.

--Thus north and fouth

Went every tiding fro mouth to mouth,
And that increasing evermo,

As fire is wont to quicken and go
From a sparkle fprong amifs,

Till all the city brent up is.

VER. 489. There, at one passage, etc.]
And fometime I faw there at once,
A lefing and a fad footh faw
That gonnen at adventure draw
Out of a window forth to pace----

And no man be he ever fo wrothe,

Shall have one of these two, but bothe, &c.

OR THE

MERCHANT'S TALE

FROM

CHAUCER.

THERE liv'd in Lombardy, as Authors write,
In days of old, a wife and worthy Knight;

Of gentle manners, as of gen'rous race,

Bleft with much fenfe, more riches, and fome grace;
Yet, led aftray by Venus' foft delights,

He scarce could rule fome idle appetites :
For long ago, let Priests say what they cou'd,
Weak finful laymen were but flesh and blood.

But in due time, when fixty years were o'er,
He vow'd to lead this vitious life no more;
Whether pure holiness infpir'd his mind,
Or dotage turn'd his brain, is hard to find;
But his high courage prick'd him forth to wed,
And try the pleasures of a lawful bed.

This was his nightly dream, his daily care,
And to the heav'nly pow'rs his conftant pray'r,
Once ere he dy d, to taste the blissful life
Of a kind husband and a loving wife.

These thoughts he fortify'd with reasons ftill, (For none want reafons to confirm their will.)

Grave authors fay, and witty poets fing;
That honeft wedlock is a glorious thing:
But depth of Judgment most in him appears,
Who wifely weds in his maturer years.
Then let him chufe a damfel young and fair,
To blefs his age, and bring a worthy heir ;
To footh his cares, and free from noise and strife,
Conduct him gently to the verge of life.

Let finful batchelors their woes deplore,
Full well they merit all they feel, and more:
Unaw'd by precepts human or divine,
Like birds and beafts promifcuously they join:
Nor know to make the prefent bleffing laft,
To hope the future, or esteem the past:
But vainly boast the joys they never try'd,
And find divulg'd the fecrets they would hide.
The marry'd man may bear his yoke with ease,
Secure at once himself and heaven to please;
And pafs his inoffenfive hours away,

In blifs all night, and innocence all day :
Tho' fortune change, his conftant fpoufe remains,
Augments his joy, or mitagates his pains.

But what fo pure, which envious tongues will fpare?
Some wicked wits have libell'd all the fair.
With matchlefs impudence they style a wife
The dear bought curse, and lawful plague of life;
A bofom-ferpent, a domeftic evil,

A night-invafion, and a mid-day devil.
Let not the wife these fland'rous words regard,

But curfe the bones of ev'ry lying bard.

All other goods by fortune's hand are giv'n,
A wife is the peculiar gift of heav'n.
Vain fortune's favours, never at a stay,
Like empty fhadows pafs, and glide away;
One folid comfort, our eternal wife,
Abundantly fupplies us all our life:

This bleffing lafts (if those who try fay true)
As long as heart can wish-and longer too.
Our grand fire Adam, ere of Eve poffefs'd,
Alone, and ev'n in Paradife unblefs'd,
With mournful looks the blissful fcenes furvey'd,
And wander'd in the solitary shade :

The Maker faw, took pity, and bestow'd
Woman, the laft, the best referv'd of God.
A wife! ah gentle deities, can he

That has a wife, e'er feel adversity ?

Would men but follow what the sex advise,
All things would profper, all the world grow wise.
'Twas by Rebecca's aid that Jacob won

His father's bleffing from an elder fon :
Abufive Nabal ow'd his forfeit life

To the wife conduct of a prudent Wife:
Heroic Judith, as old Hebrews fhow,

Preferv'd the Jews, and flew th' Affyrian foe:
At Hefter's fuit, the perfecuting fword

Was fheath'd, and Ifrael liv'd to blefs the Lord.
These weighty motives, January the fage
Maturely ponder'd in his riper age;

And charm'd with virtuous joys, and sober life,
Would try that Christian comfort, call'd a wife