And thrusts, with dauntless air, upon the Town, 315 True, they are hitched in verse, and to his aid Not she,-who erst th' inspired Minstrel blest, In all the glories of effulgency! But she, whose coarser mien and looser tongue Prompted the quibbles Peter's lyre hath sung;- 325 NOTES. For myself, I cannot see by what means he will do away their remarks upon the objectionable passages, or free himself from the stigma they have thrown upon his character. And, from her hand, she bids thee humbly take A wreath of weeds, and wear it for her sake. 330 But think, when "ages yet unborn" shall look From thine own tale they there may chance to learn, 340 Then shall the truth appear in plainest guise, 335 The Censor's wrath, the Muse's kindling ire! 345 That else had twin'd with vigour round his head, And twofold honor by descent had shed; Forgetful of Society's applause, That soon or late will vindicate her laws; Yet, when the verse Posterity shall see, That violates the rules of Decency, 'Twill justly spurn the Author of the deed, 350 355 And," viva voce," cry: " This, Coleman, be thy meed: 360 With Pasquin's join'd, and Peter Pindar's* name, (A matchless trio in the lists of Fame,) NOTES. * Sometimes he has some humour, never wit, And if it rarely, very rarely, hit, Thine shall remain, when e'en the worthless lay That rais'd thee there, like their's have passed away; Then shall it meet alone, of merit lorn, The frown of Virtue, and the sneer of Scorn!" 365 What daring hand* has seized the trembling lyre, Flushed with the hopes of all a Poet's fire, To sing thee, Woman! lovely, gentle, kind, And paint the wonders of thy form and mind! 370 NOTES. 'Tis under so much nasty rubbish laid, The wretched Texts deserve no comment here. DRYDEN and MULGRAVE'S Essay on Satire. * Eaton Stannard Barrett, Esq. has published what he is pleased to call a Poem on Woman, "Vox et preterea nihil!" Here was a theme to bid the mounting soul, On Fancy's wings, ascend beyond control. Now, when the strain should rise, and loud, and high, 375 In all the swell of noblest Minstrelsy, The tinkling chords emit discordant sound, And harshest notes disturb the air around. 380 Barrett! 'twas thine, to touch the jarring strings, NOTES. * We are kindly informed in the preface, that it is not a theoretical but a practical essay, and does not require a knowledge of either Spinoza, Leibnitz, or Bolingbroke. Mais tout esprit n'est pas composé d'une ètoffe, Qui se trouve taillée à faire un Philosophe : |