If New and Old, disastrous feud, Must ever shock, like armed foes, And this be true, till Time shall close, That Principles are rain'd in blood; Not yet the wise of heart would cease To hold his hope thro' shame and guilt, But with his hand against the hilt, Would pace the troubled land, like Peace; Not less, tho' dogs of Faction bay, Would serve his kind in deed and word, Certain, if knowledge bring the sword, That knowledge takes the sword away— Would love the gleams of good that broke From either side, nor veil his eyes : And if some dreadful need should rise Would strike, and firmly, and one stroke: To-morrow yet would reap to-day, As we bear blossoms of the dead; Earn well the thrifty months, nor wed Raw Haste, half-sister to Delay. Her rags scarce held together; There strode a stranger to the door, And it was windy weather. He held a goose upon his arm, He utter'd rhyme and reason, "Here, take the goose, and keep you warm, It is a stormy season." She caught the white goose by the leg, A goose 'twas no great matter. The goose let fall a golden egg With cackle and with clatter. She dropt the goose, and caught the pelf, And ran to tell her neighbours ; And bless'd herself, and cursed herself, And rested from her labours. And feeding high, and living soft, Grew plump and able-bodied; Until the grave churchwarden doff'd, So sitting, served by man and maid, But ah! the more the white goose laid It clack'd and cackled louder. It clutter'd here, it chuckled there; It stirr'd the old wife's mettle: She shifted in her elbow-chair, And hurl'd the pan and kettle. "A quinsy choke thy cursed note!" Then wax'd her anger stronger. "Go, take the goose, and wring her throat, I will not bear it longer." Then yelp'd the cur, and yawl'd the cat ; Ran Gaffer, stumbled Gammer. The goose flew this way and flew that, And fill'd the house with clamour. As head and heels upon the floor They flounder'd all together, There strode a stranger to the door And it was windy weather⚫ |