There was Arnold, and Reynolds, and Dibdin, and Cherry, All grinning as who should say, Shan't we be merry?' And mighty dull Cobb, lumb'ring just like a bear up, And sweet Billy Dimond, a patting his hair up. The God, for an instant, sat fix'd as a stone, Till recov'ring, he said in a good-natur'd tone, -ah, it's all very well, Only one of you'll do just to answer the bell.' But lord! to see all the great dramatists' faces ! They looked at each other, and made such grimaces! Then turning about, left the room in vexation, And Hook, they say, could'nt help mutt'ring Damnation!' "Twas lucky for Colman he was'nt there too, For his pranks would have certainly met with their due, And Sheridan's also, that finished old tricker;— • Spencer-Rogers-Montgom'ry,'-and putting them by, Begg'd the landlord to give his respects to all three, Your Majesty then,' said the Gaius, don't know That a person nam'd Crabbe has been waiting below? 'Indeed!' said Apollo, Oh pray let him stay: He'll be much better pleased to be with 'em down stairs, As if some one from court was about to appear : Oh, this is the room, my good friend? Ah I see it is ; Room, sure enough, for the best-bred of deities!' And then, with a sort of a look of a blush, And said, 'Will Apollo excuse this intrusion? I might have kept back,-but I thought 'twould look odd,― And friendship, you know,-pray how is my dear God?" A smile, followed up by a shake of the head, Cross'd the fine lip of Phoebus, who view'd him, and said, I'll give you a lesson, Sir, quite your own seeking, And one that you very much want,-on plain speaking. Pray have you to learn,—and at this time of day, That your views on regard have been all the wrong way ? That ere it could wink, the poor devil was gone. A hem was then heard, consequential and snapping, And a sour little gentleman walk'd with a rap in. He bow'd, look'd about him, seem'd cold, and sat down, And said, 'I'm surpris'd that you'll visit this town:To be sure, there are one or two of us who know you, But as for the rest, they are all much below you. So stupid, in gen'ral, the natives are grown, They really prefer Scotch reviews to their own; So that what with their taste, their reformers, and stuff, They have sicken'd myself and my friends long enough.' "Yourself and your friends!' cried the God in high glee; be?' 'And pray, my frank visitor, who may you The rod, that got rid of the Cruscas and Lauras,— At least in what Dryden has not done himself; And there's something, which even distaste must respect, In the self-taught example, that conquer'd neglect, But not to insist on the recommendations Of modesty, wit, and a small stock of patience, My visit just now is to poets alone, And not to small critics, however well known.' So saying he rang, to leave nothing in doubt, However, he scarcely had got through the door, -Try if you can't also manage posterity. -All you add now only lessens your credit; And how could you think too of taking to edite? A great deal's endur'd, where there's measure and rhyme; But prose such as your's is a pure waste of time, A singer of ballads unstrung by a cough, Who fairly talks on, till his hearers walk off. 'And here,' cried Apollo, is one at the door, Who shall prove what I say, or my art is no more. Ah, Campbell, you're welcome :-well, how have you been, Since the last time I saw you on Sydenham-green? |