תמונות בעמוד
PDF
ePub
[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

K

Perfumer, by whom to be avoided

ii. 29

L

Knocker of a door, an observation on one ii. 497 Porter sworn, useful to walkers

London, its happiness before the invention of

ii. 65

'Prentices not to be relied on

ii. 69

Post, when to walk on the outside of it
Pillory not to be gazed upon

ii. 7

ii. 225

coaches and chairs

VOL. X.

i. 101

Pall-mall celebrated

ii. 256

Hb

[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

EPISTLES ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS.

EPISTLE L

TO A LADY.

OCCASIONED BY the arrival of HER ROYAL HIGHNESS
THE PRINCESS OF WALES.

MADAM, to all your censures I submit,
And frankly own I should long since have writ.
You told me, silence would be thought a crime,
And kindly strove to teaze me into rhyme:
No more let trifling themes your Muse employ,
Nor lavish verse, to paint a female toy :
No more on plains with rural damsels sport;
But sing the glories of the British court.

By your commands and inclination sway'd,
I call'd th' unwilling Muses to my aid :
Resolv'd to write, the noble theme I chose,
And to the princess thus the poem rose.

"Aid me, bright Phoebus! aid, ye sacred Nine!
Exalt my genius, and my verse retine.
My strains with Carolina's name I grace,
The lovely parent of our royal race.
Breathe soft, ye winds! ye waves, in silence sleep!
Let prosperous breezes wanton o'er the deep,
Swell the white sails, and with the streamers play,
To waft her gently o'er the watery way."

Here I to Neptune form'd a pompous prayer,
To rein the winds, and guard the royal fair;
Bid the blue Tritons sound their twisted shells,
And call the Nereïds from their pearly cells.
Thus my warm zeal had drawn the Muse along,
Yet knew no method to conduct her song:
I then resolv'd some model to pursue,
Perus'd French critics, and began anew.
Long open panegyric drags at best,
And praise is only praise when well address'd.

Straight Horace for some lucky ode I sought:
And all along I trac'd him thought by thought.
This new performance to a friend I show'd:
"For shame!" says he; "what, imitate an ode!
I'd rather ballads write, and Grub-street lays,
Than pillage Cæsar for my patron's praise:
One common fate all imitators share,
To save mince-pies, and cap the grocer's ware.”
Vex'd at the charge, I to the flames commit
Rhymes, similies, lord's names, and ends of wit:
In blotted stanzas scraps of odes expire,
And fustian mounts in pyramids of tire.

Ladies to you I next inscrib'd my lay,
And writ a letter in familiar way:
For, still impatient till the princess came,
You from description wish'd to know the dame.
Each day my pleasing labour larger grew,
For still new graces open'd to my view.
Twelve lines ran on to introduce the theme;
And then I thus pursued the growing scheme:

"Beauty and wit were sure by Nature join'd,
And charms are emanations of the mind;
The soul, transpiercing through the shining frame,
Forms all the graces of the princely dame:
Benevolence her conversation guides,
Smiles on her cheek, and in her eye resides.
Such harmony upon her tongue is found,
As softens English to Italian sound:

Yet in those sounds such sentiments appear,
As charm the judgment, while they soothe the ear.
"Religion's cheerful flame her bosom warms,
Calms all her hours, and brightens all her charms.
Henceforth, ye fair, at chapel mind your prayers,
Nor catch your lover's eyes with artful airs;
Restrain your looks, kneel more, and whisper less,
Nor most devoutly criticise on dress.

"From her form all your characters of life,
The tender mother, and the faithful wife.
Oft have I seen her little infant-train,
The lovely promise of a future reign;
Observ'd with pleasure every dawning grace,
And all the mother opening in their face.
The son shall add new honours to the line,
And early with paternal virtues shine:
When he the tale of Audenard repeats,
His little heart with emulation beats;
With conquests yet to come his bosom glows,
He dreams of triumphs, and of vanquish'd foes;
Each year with arts shall store his ripening brain,
And from his grandsire he shall learn to reign."
Thus far I'd gone: propitious rising gales
Now bid the sailor hoist the swelling sails.
Fair Carolina lands; the cannons roar;
White Albion's cliffs resound from shore to shore.
Behold the bright original appear,

All praise is faint when Carolina's near.
Thus to the nation's joy, but poet's cost,
The princess came, and my new plan was lost.
Since all my schemes were baulk'd, (my last
I left the Muses, to frequent the court: (resort)
Pensive each night from room to room I walk'd,
To one I bow'd, and with another talk'd;
Inquir'd what news, or such a lady's name,
And did the next day, and the next, the same.
Places, I found, were daily given away,
And yet no friendly Gazette mention'd Gay.
I ask'd a friend what method to pursue;
He cry'd, "I want a place as well as you."
Another ask'd me, why I had not writ;

[ocr errors]

A poet owes his fortune to his wit."
Straight I reply'd, "With what a courtly grace
Flows easy verse from him that has a place!
Had Virgil ne'er at court improv'd his strains,
He still had sung of flocks and homely swains;
And, had not Horace sweet preferment found,
The Roman lyre had never learnt to sound."
Once ladies fair in homely guise I sung,
And with their names wild woods and mountains
O teach me now to strike a softer strain! [rung.
The court refines the language of the plain.
"You must," cries one, "the ministry rehearse,
And with each patriot's name prolong your verse.”
But sure this truth to poets should be known,
That praising all alike, is praising none.

Another told me if I wish'd success,

To some distinguish'd lord I must address;
One whose high virtues speak his noble blood,
One always zealous for his country's good;
Where valour and strong eloquence unite,
In council cautions, resolute in fight;
Whose generous temper prompts him to defend,
And patronize the man that wants a friend.
You have, 'tis true, the noble patron shown,
But I, alas! am to Argyll unknown."

Still every one I met in this agreed,
That writing was my method to sneceed;
But now preferments so possess'd my brain,
That scarce I could produce a single strain?

Indeed, I sometimes hammer'd out a line,
Without connection, as without design.
One morn upon the princess this I writ,
An epigram that boasts more truth than wit.
"The pomp of titles easy faith might shake,
She scorn'd an empire for religion's sake:
For this on Earth the British crown was given,
And an immortal crown decreed in Heaven."
Again, while George's virtues rais'd my thought,
The following lines prophetic Fancy wrought.
"Methinks I see some bard, whose heavenly rage
Shall rise in song, and warm a future age;
Look back through time, and, wrapt in wonder,
The glorious series of the Brunswick race. [trace
"From the first George these godlike kings de-
scend,

A line which only with the world shall end.
The next a generous prince, renown'd in arms,
And bless'd, long bless'd, in Carolina's charms;
From these the rest. 'Tis thus, secure in peace,
We plow the fields, and reap the year's increase:
Now Commerce, wealthy goddess, rears her head,
And bids Britannia's fleets their canvass spread;
Unnumber'd ships the peopled ocean hide,
And wealth returns with each revolving tide."
Here paus'd the sullen Muse; in haste I dress'd,
And through the crowd of needy courtiers press'd;
Though unsuccessful, happy whilst I see
Those eyes, that glad a nation, shine on me.

EPISTLE II.

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE EARL OF BURLINGTON.

A JOURNEY TO EXETER.
1716.

WHILE you, my lord, bid stately piles ascend, Or in your Chiswick bowers enjoy your friend; Where Pope unloads the boughs within his reach, The purple vine, blue plum, and blushing peach; I journey far.-You knew fat bards might tire, And, mounted, sent me forth your trusty squire.

'Twas on the day when city-dames repair
To take their weekly dose of Hyde-park air;
When forth we trot: no carts the road infest,
For still on Sundays country horses rest.
Thy gardens, Kensington, we leave unseen;
Thro' Hammersmith jog on to Turnham-green.
That Turnham-green, which dainty pigeons fed,
But feeds no more: for Solomon is dead.
Three dusty miles reach Brentford's tedious town,
For dirty streets and white-legg'd chickens known.
Thence, o'er wide shrubby heaths and furrow'd
lanes,
[Staines.

We come where Thames divides the meads of
We ferry'd o'er; for late the winter's flood
Shook her frail bridge, and tore her piles of wood.
Prepar'd for war, now Bagshot-heath we cross,
Where broken gamesters oft repair their loss.
At Hartley-row the foaming bit we prest,
While the fat landlord welcom'd every guest.
Supper was ended, healths the glasses crown'd,
Our host extoll'd his wine at every round;
Relates the justices late meeting there,
How many bottles drank, and what their cheer;

! A man once famous for breeding pigeons.

What lords had been his guests in days of yore, And prais'd their wisdom much, their drinking

Let travellers the morning-vigils keep: [more. The Morning rose, but we lay fast asleep. Twelve tedious miles we bore the sultry Sun, And Popham-lane was scarce in sight by one: The straggling village harbour'd thieves of old, 'Twas here the stage-coach'd lass resign'd her gold; That gold which had in London purchas'd gowns, And sent her home a belle to country towns. But robbers haunt no more the neighbouring wood: Here unown'd infants find their daily food; For, should the maiden-mother nurse her son, 'Twould spoil her match when her good name is Our jolly hostess nineteen children bore, [gone. Nor fail'd her breast to suckle nineteen more. Be just, ye prudes, wipe off the long arrear: Be virgins still in town, but mothers here.

Sutton we pass, and leave her spacious down, And with the setting Sun reach Stockbridge town. O'er our parch'd tongue the rich metheglin glides, And the red dainty trout our knife divides. Sad melancholy every visage wears; What! no election come in seven long years! Of all our race of mayors, shall Snow alone1 Be by sir Richard's dedication known? Our streets no more with tides of ale shall float, Nor coblers feast three years upon one vote.

Next morn, twelve miles led o'er th' unbounded
plain,

Where the cloak'd shepherd guides his fleecy train.
No leafy bowers a noon-day shelter lend,
Nor from the chilly dews at night defend :
With wondrous art, he counts the straggling flock,
And by the Sun informs you what's o'clock.
How are our shepherds fall'n from ancient days!
No Amaryllis chants alternate lays!
From her no listening Echos learn to sing,
Nor with his reed the jocund valleys ring.

Here sheep the pasture hide, there harvests
See Sarum's steeple o'er yon hill ascend; [bend,
Our horses faintly trot beneath the heat,
And our keen stomachs know the hour to eat.

Who can forsake thy walls, and not admire
The proud cathedral, and the lofty spire?
What sempstress has not prov'd thy scissars good!
From hence first came th' intriguing riding-hood.
Amid three boarding-schools well stock'd with
misses 2,

Shall three knight-errants starve for want of kisses ?
O'er the green turf the miles slide swift away,
And Blandford ends the labours of the day.
The morning rose; the supper reckoning paid,
And our due fees discharg'd to man and maid,
The ready ostler near the stirrup stands,
And, as we mount, our halfpence load his hands.

Now the steep hill fair Dorchester o'erlooks,
Border'd by meads, and wash'd by silver brooks.

[blocks in formation]

Here sleep my two companions eyes supprest,
And, propt in elbow-chairs, they snoring rest:
I weary sit, and with my pencil trace

Their painful postures, and their eyeless face;
Then dedicate each glass to some fair name,
And on the sash the diamond scrawls my flame.
Now o'er true Roman way our horses sound,
Grævius would kneel, and kiss the sacred ground,
On either side low fertile valleys lie,

The distant prospects tire the travelling eye.
Through Bridport's stony lanes our route we take,
And the proud steep descend to Morcombe's lake.
As hearses pass'd, our landlord robb'd the pall,
And with the mournful 'scutcheon hung his hall.
On-unadulterate wine we here regale,
And strip the lobster of his scarlet mail.

We climb'd the hills, when starry Night arose,
And Axminster affords a kind repose.
The maid, subdued by fees, her trunk unlocks,
And gives the cleanly aid of dowlass-smocks.
Mean time our shirts her busy fingers rub,
While the soap lathers o'er the foaming tub,
If women's geer such pleasing dreams incite,
Lend us your smocks, ye damsels, every night!
We rise, our beards demand the barber's art;
A female enters, and performs the part.
The weighty golden chain adorns her neck,
And three gold rings her skilful hand bedeck:
Smooth o'er our chin her easy fingers move,
Saft as when Venus stroak'd the beard of Jove.

EPISTLE III

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE

WILLIAM PULTENEY, ESQ.

1717.

PULTENEY, methinks you blame my breach of What! cannot Paris one poor page afford? [word; Yes, I can sagely, when the times are past, Laugh at those follies which I strove to taste, And each amusement, which we shar'd, review, Pleas'd with mere talking, since I talk to you. But how shall I describe, in humble prose, Their balls, assemblies, operas, and beaux? [aid, "In prose?" you cry: "oh, no, the Muse must And leave Parnassus for the Tuilleries' shade: Shall he (who late Britannia's city trod, And led the draggled Muse, with pattens shod, Through dirty lanes, and alleys' doubtful ways) Refuse to write, when Paris asks his lays!"

Well then, I'll try. Descend, ye beauteous Nine, In all the colours of the rainbow shine, Let sparkling stars your neck and ear adorn, Lay on the blushes of the crimson Morn; So may ye balls and gay assemblies grace, And at the opera claim the foremost place.

Travellers should ever fit expression choose, Nor with low phrase the lofty theme abuse. When they describe the state of castern lords,

Now from the steep, midst scatter'd farms and Pomp and magnificence should swell their words;

[blocks in formation]

road;

When ( blest sight!) a friendly sign we spy'd,
Our spurs are slacken'd from the horses side;
For sure a civil host the house commands,
Upon whose sign this courteous motto stands:
"This is the ancient hand, and eke the pen ;
Here is for horses hay, and meat for men."
How rhyme would flourish, did each son of fame
Know his own genius, and direct his flame!
Then he, that could not epic flights rehearse,
Might sweetly mourn in elegiac verse.
But, were his Muse for elegy unfit.
Perhaps a distich might not strain his wit;
If epigram offend, his harmless lines

[eyes,

Might in gold letters swing on ale-house signs. Then Hobbinol might propagate his bays, And Tuttle-fields record his simple lays; Where rhymes like these might lure the nurses' While gaping infants squawl for farthing pies: "Treat here, ye shepherds blithe, your damsels sweet,

For pies and cheesecakes are for damsels meet."
Then Maurus in his proper sphere might shine,
And these proud numbers grace great William's
sign:

"This is the man, this the Nassovian, whom
I nam'd the brave deliverer to come 1."
But now the driving gales suspend the rain,
We mount our steeds, and Devon's city gain.
Hail, happy native land!—but I forbear
What other counties must with envy hear.

!Blackmore's Prince Arthur, book v.

[slide;

And when they paint the serpent's scaly pride,
Their lines should hiss, their numbers smoothly
But they, unmindful of poetic rules,
Describe alike Mockaws and Great Moguls.
Dampier would thus, without ill-meaning satire,
Dress forth in simple style the Petit-maitre :
"In Paris, there's a race of animals
(I've seen them at their operas and balls):
They stand erect, they dance whene'er they walk,
Monkeys in action, perroquets in talk;
They're crown'd with feathers, like the cockatoo,
And, like camelions, daily change their hue;
From patches justly plac'd they borrow graces,
And with vermilion lacquer o'er their faces.
This custom, as we visibly discern,
They, by frequenting ladies' toilettes, learn."
Thus might the traveller easy truth impart.
Into the subject let me nobly start.

How happy lives the man, how sure to charm,
Whose knot embroider'd flutters down his arm!
On him the ladies cast the yielding glance,
Sigh in his songs, and languish in his dance :
While wretched is the wit, contemn'd forlorn,
Whose gummy hat no scarlet plumes adorn ;
No broider'd flowers his worsted ankle grace,
Nor cane emboss'd with gold directs his pace;
No lady's favour on his sword is hung;
What though Apollo dictate from his tongue,
His wit is spiritless and void of grace,
Who wants th' assurance of brocade and lace,
While the gay fop genteelly talks of weather,
The fair in raptures doat upon his feather;
Like a court-lady though he write and spell,
His minuet-step was fashion'd by Marcell1;
He dresses, fences. What avails to know?
For women choose their men, like silks, for show

! A famous dancing-master.

« הקודםהמשך »