INTENDED FOR A MEETING OF THE LITERARY FUND.
WHEN Homer begg'd his way from door to door,
The base neglect his genius proudly bore;
With glance prophetic, though of sight bereft,
The sublunary world indignant left;
Anticipated Fame with sure demand,
And plac'd on Time's award his glowing hand.
When o'er the harp his magic language flew,
The dead awaken'd, and immortal, grew
The Denizen of Nature's genial clime
every age was present and sublime.
Enchanting Spenser plum'd his Fairy-wing,
Though Famine pinch'd him with her venom'd sting:
Pathetic Otway sigh'd in vain for bread,
Kill'd by the morsel that his hunger fed;
The hapless Forger died of human scorn,
To Inspiration's deathless honours born:
Though Plato's mantle was on Sydenham cast,
The Debtor was in chains, and breath'd his last;
Compassion, Taste, and Genius, rung his knell;
The tears of Science on his ashes fell.
Deploring him with provident regret,
You thought of other Sydenhams lingering yet;
With gentle voice the panting spirit cheer'd,
And for the Pilgrim's feet this temple rear'd;
If Genius owns him by the world oppress'd,
Encouragement is here, as well as rest:
His bright conceptions to the age are shewn,
His feelings cherish'd, and his virtues known.
WHEN thought is brooding o'er the past, And the new day is wish'd the last, My fainting spirits what can raise ? A curricle and pair of greys.
When Fancy nods, and sleepy dews
The corresponding rhymes infuse,
What gives the neat and pointed phrase?—
A curricle and pair of greys.
When love to sentiments confin'd
Is rather delicate than blind,
The romping impulse what can raise ?
A curricle and pair of greys.
When Taste, examining the scene,
Dissects the shade or verdant green,
What prompts the word that gives the bays?
A curricle and pair of greys?
When haggard age, with feet of snow,
Begins her spiteful marks to show,
What spell recalls the youthful days?
A curricle and pair of
I ask'd one day an Irish cousin,
Who had preferments by the dozen,
"To make some little office mine;
Judicial was to be the line.”
He answer'd: " Faith-my hands are full;
But, though it may appear a bull,
One hates to leave you in the lurch—
You may command me in the Church."
TO A NEIGHBOUR IN THE COUNTRY.
"Two of your horses fain I'd borrow,
Dear L*******, for my use to-morrow."
By such a bold attack perplex'd,
You answer, "Yes-on Friday next."
You open first, then bar the door-
"On Friday useless would be four.
One given soon*—is double one ;
The two on Friday next-are none."
* "Bis dat qui cito dat."-He gives twice who gives it soon.
FRAGMENTS OF A CHARACTER *.
A heart that loves the human race,
And shews its mirrour in the face;
A jest that glows with playful mirth;
A tear that soothes afflicted worth;
A careless genius, brightly wild,
The sense and judgment of a child;
A taste ingenuous and refin'd,
That springs from an accomplish'd mind;
An eye that loves the scene to change,
And Beauty's varied fields to range,-
But chiefly where in aweful charms
The mountain spreads his giant arms,
Or where, impell'd with sudden force,
The torrent wakes his thundering course;
Or where, in deep and pathless groves,
The solitary Hermit roves ;
An ear that feeds on melting strains,
When musick to the heart complains;
A temper cheerful as the ray
That welcomes Philomel and May;
Persuasive manners, and an air
Of subtle power to win the Fair.
A passion for the fatal bower
That made Rinaldo's fortunes lower,
Has torn him from the softer kiss
Of Imogen's domestic bliss ;
But, though in habits unconfin'd,
He loves at heart her spotless mind;
In Friendship's bright and aweful trust,
Of purest faith, and proudly just.
* Which the Reader will easily apply.
THE MARE UPON A FULL TROT.
I've been often much puzzled perfection to find,
Of enjoyment I mean, in the body or mind:
I have look'd for it here, I have look'd for it there—
It's to ride a full trot on a capital mare.
I confess, that a cutlet, or chops, at an Inn,
Are ambrosia to me, and I hope it 's no sin;
But my appetite gives me a taste for the fare,
And the appetite comes from this trot on the mare.
When the taylor, with buttons, with cloth, and with tape,
On the pockets or liberties threatens a rape;
No expedients against him I ever compare
To adjournment of Court, and full trot on the mare.
If a man is in love, and is going to kiss
Amarillis, or Kate, in the arbour of bliss;
The delectable feast with more spirit he 'll share,
Having swung twenty miles a full trot on the mare.
If the lady is false, and may chance to elope,
Let him pause, ere a pistol he takes, or the rope :
I've a much better cure for his loss of the fair,
Let him shake his blue devils full trot on the mare.
If the Poet intends Mr. Pope to supplant,
Or the Orator like Mr. ******* to rant;
Let him exercise take, let him snuff up the air,
For a Tully or Homer no school but the mare.
|