XXVIII.

  But careful Dominie, with ceaseless thrift,
  Now changeth ferula for rural hoe;
  But, first of all, with tender hand doth shift
  His college gown, because of solar glow,
  And hangs it on a bush, to scare the crow: 
  Meanwhile, he plants in earth the dappled bean,
  Or trains the young potatoes all a-row,
  Or plucks the fragrant leek for pottage green,
With that crisp curly herb, call’d Kale in Aberdeen.

XXIX.

  And so he wisely spends the fruitful hours,
  Linked each to each by labor, like a bee;
  Or rules in Learning’s hall, or trims her bow’rs;—­
  Would there were many more such wights as he,
  To sway each capital academie
  Of Cam and Isis; for, alack! at each
  There dwells, I wot, some dronish Dominie,
  That does no garden work, nor yet doth teach,
But wears a floury head, and talks in flow’ry speech!

FAITHLESS NELLY GRAY.

A PATHETIC BALLAD.

Ben Battle was a soldier bold,
  And used to war’s alarms;
But a cannon-ball took off his legs,
  So he laid down his arms!

Now as they bore him off the field,
  Said he, “Let others shoot,
For here I leave my second leg,
  And the Forty-second Foot!”

The army-surgeons made him limbs: 
  Said he,—­“They’re only pegs: 
But there’s as wooden members quite,
  As represent my legs!”

Now Ben he loved a pretty maid,
  Her name was Nelly Gray;
So he went to pay her his devours,
  When he’d devour’d his pay!

But when he called on Nelly Gray,
  She made him quite a scoff;
And when she saw his wooden legs,
  Began to take them off!

“O, Nelly Gray!  O, Nelly Gray! 
  Is this your love so warm? 
The love that loves a scarlet coat
  Should be more uniform!”

Said she, “I loved a soldier once,
  For he was blithe and brave;
But I will never have a man
  With both legs in the grave!”

“Before you had those timber toes,
  Your love I did allow,
But then, you know, you stand upon
  Another footing now!”

“O, Nelly Gray!  O, Nelly Gray! 
  For all your jeering speeches,
At duty’s call, I left my legs
  In Badajos’s breaches!”

“Why, then,” said she, “you’ve lost the feet
  Of legs in war’s alarms,
And now you cannot wear your shoes
  Upon your feats of arms!”

“O, false and fickle Nelly Gray! 
  I know why you refuse:—­
Though I’ve no feet—­some other man
  Is standing in my shoes!”

“I wish I ne’er had seen your face;
  But, now, a long farewell! 
For you will be my death:—­alas! 
  You will not be my Nell!”

Now when he went from Nelly Gray,
  His heart so heavy got—­
And life was such a burthen grown,
  It made him take a knot!