§9

'Miscellaneous Poems.

Ill Luck attends the Man who looks too high,

And can a Star, but not a Marlpit spy.

But, by St. Thomas, this shall never pass jToo well I love this gentle Nicholas.

I’ll ferret him, unless the Devil’s in it,

From his brown Fit of Study in a Minute.

Robin, let’s try if that Iron PurAnd your strongTfack can make this Scholar stir ;Now Robin was a Lad of Brawn and Bones, •

And by the Hasp heav’d up the Door at once ;

Which in the Chamber fell with dreadful Sound,

As would a Man like you or me astound.

But Nicholas did nothing do but stare,

And, like a Statue, gape into the Air.

This Carpenter was in a piteous F ear,

Because-he did not, or he would not, hear;

Thought'seem deep Melancholy had impar’dHis Brain, and that of Mercy he despair’d;

For which the Student in his Arms he tookWith Might and Main, and by the Shoulders shook ;Cry’d, Nicholas awake! What, not a Word ?

Look down, despair not-think upon the Lord !

Then the Night Spell he mumbled to himself:

Bless thee from Friends, and ev’ry wicked Elf!

He crest the Threshold, where the Dev’l might creep,And each small Hole, through which an Imp might peH>.With solemn Patcr-nofters bless the Door,

And Anje-Mary s, after and before.

At this the Clerk sent forth a heavy Sigh,

With Tears, and woful Tone began to cry——

And Jhall this World be loft so scon ? Ah, njohy ?

What do I hear ? the Carpenter reply’d,

What fay’st thou, Nich'las? Sure thou art besideThyself: Serve God, as we poor Lab’rers do,

And then no Harm, no Danger will ensue.

Ah ! Friend, quoth Nicholas, you little thinkWhat I can tell; but first let’s have some Drink,

Then;