," lib.
ix.--_W. E. B._]
[Footnote 7: So named from a very curious cross or pillar which was
erected in it in 1687 by John, Earl of Melfort, Secretary of State to
James the Second, in honour of the King's second wife, Mary Beatrice of
Modena, having conceived after bathing there.--Collinson's "History of
Somersetshire."--_W. E. B._]
[Footnote 8: "Meanwhile stands cluckling at the brim," the first
draft.--_Forster_.]
[Footnote 9: "The best of heirs" in first draft.--_Forster_.]
THE PROGRESS OF POETRY
The farmer's goose, who in the stubble
Has fed without restraint or trouble,
Grown fat with corn and sitting still,
Can scarce get o'er the barn-door sill;
And hardly waddles forth to cool
Her belly in the neighbouring pool!
Nor loudly cackles at the door;
For cackling shows the goose is poor.
But, when she must be turn'd to graze,
And round the barren common strays,
Hard exercise, and harder fare,
Soon make my dame grow lank and spare;
Her body light, she tries her wings,
And scorns the ground, and upward springs;
While all the parish, as she flies,
Hear sounds harmonious from the skies.
Such is the poet fresh in pay,
The third night's profits of his play;
His morning draughts till noon can swill,
Among his brethren of the quill:
With good roast beef his belly full,
Grown lazy, foggy, fat, and dull,
Deep sunk in plenty and delight,
What poet e'er could take his flight?
Or, stuff'd with phlegm up to the throat,
What poet e'er could sing a note?
Nor Pegasus could bear the load
Along the high celestial road;
The steed, oppress'd, would break his girth,
To raise the lumber from the earth.
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