3991 
 Q3L4- 
 
 LEAVES OF LAUREL
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 LEAVES OF LAUREL; 
 
 OR 
 
 NEW PROBATIONARY ODES, 
 
 FOR 
 
 THE VACANT LAUREATSHIP 
 
 COLLECTED AND EDITED 
 
 BY Q. Q. and W. W, 
 
 Yet once more, Oh ye Laurels !" Milton. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR T. BECKET AND J. PORTER, 
 
 PALL-MALL . 
 
 1813.
 
 As the Authors of the present Collection of Odes cannot intend 
 to render themselves ridiculous, so neither have the. Editors any 
 sinister intention of pointing their ridicule at the said Authors. If, 
 on so serious an occasion, any tiling can be considered as laughable, 
 it must be the Laureatship itself; an office which, perhaps, may 
 not reflect much credit on the Donor or the Receiver. 
 
 Printed by W. Buhner and Co. Cleveland-rovt .
 
 TV. 
 
 LEAVES OF LAUREL, fyc. 
 
 ,( vJood night to the Laureat! but since he's no more,' 
 Said old Saul,* 'tis but foolish his fate to deplore; 
 " Perchance 7 may catch the proud cloak he lets fall"— 
 i( Perchance /may catch" — said the rhyming-men all, 
 And re-echoed the sigh that was breath'd by old Saul. 
 
 * Great confusion has arisen in Grub and other streets from 
 the similarity of name in two of the rival candidates for the 
 Laurel. We fear that we shall not lessen the mystery by our 
 delicate mode of printing Ihe appellatives S — y and S — y. 
 Kuiuour, however, now mentions the younger Ambigu as the 
 favourite. It is added (what the public will be delighted to hear) 
 that the ode is to be abolished ; and that another sinecure (which 
 may not be so delightful) is to be added to the list by the Lau- 
 reatship. What will Mr. Banks say to tb.s? Will he insist on 
 the restoration of the Ode ? I? b eel) us forbid! — The Town would 
 then indeed exclaim with ^henstoue — 
 
 " My Banks will be furnish'd with bees 
 " Whose music invites you to sleep — " &c 
 
 B 

 
 2 LEAVES OF LAUREL. 
 
 There were C — b — 11, and R — g — s, and wild W — 1— r 
 
 S — tt, 
 And B — r — n, and S — th — y, and who was there not ? 
 Each determined his foe hors de combat to put, 
 And to win the one hundred and sweet malmsey butt. 
 Oh whence this strange fervour? — the surgeons, 'tis said, 
 Sacrilegiously curious, have cut up the dead ; 
 (As the critics the living) — and now ask you why? 
 " He sets the birds singing who opens the P — e." 
 
 The judge was Grimaldi : in hardier times, 
 A chamberlain dared to decide upon rhymes, 
 With the aid of Delpini ;* — more modest we're grown, 
 And the judge of this cause is Grimaldi alone. 
 At the Wells of Old Sadler, where Islington Spa f 
 Has ceas'd her scorbutic frequenters to draw, 
 As at Wells of old Helicon, dwelt the high judge, 
 And would not one step from his dwelling-place budge. 
 Therefore C — b — 11, and R — g — s, and wild W — 1 — r 
 
 S — tt, 
 And B— r — n, and S — th — y, and God knows who not, 
 
 * See the " Probationary Odes."' 
 t Still called New Tunbridge Weill.
 
 LEAVES OF LAUREL. 8 
 
 In the Pentonville Stages together repair, 
 
 To submit their bold verse to the great critic there. 
 
 It was noon ; and fierce August remorselessly gave 
 His cloudless effulgence to wood and to wave ; 
 On a ship o'er thy water, thou New-River-Head ! 
 Wbose poop burnt with gold, sate the censor so dread : 
 Little boats at its side held the poets so gay, 
 And each grew impatient to flourish away : 
 When their umpire declar'd, that he hop'd for the pleasure 
 Of the " P — s — s of H— e," in one candidate's measure; 
 Or, if G — t — e fulfiil'd what was promis'd by Hope, 
 Perchance she might offer more suitable scope, 
 On a theme so dissolvingly soft and refin'd, 
 And so worthy that songster's compassionate mind ; 
 Who shortly, yet sternly, arose at the call, 
 And thus caught at the mantle the Laureat let fall. 
 
 " On thy suburban bank, fair Harrow-weald ! 
 " Although thine airy downs are now enclos'd, 
 " And tasteless ploughshares furrow up each field, 
 " Yet once the Laureat's verse-fill'd head repos'd :* 
 
 * The Laureat lived at Pinner in Middlesex ; in the neigh- 
 bourhood of which village is the lately enclosed, and now ten- 
 derly lamented, common of Harrow-weald.
 
 4 LEAVES OF LAUREL. 
 
 " Alas, those eyes in cloud-capp'd night are clos'd ! 
 " Now from his grave alone sweet wild-flowers spring, 
 " (His grave of briar'd turf, and moss compos'd) 
 " Wild-flowers he gather'd when on earth, to fling 
 " O'er Britain's matchless Queen, o'er Britain's matchless 
 King. 
 
 " Oft, where the bumble-bee, with buzzing hum, 
 " At many-colour'd evening's careless hour, 
 " Seem'd, by the whispering air, in act to come, 
 " And rous'd the viewless myriads round his bower, 
 " P — e too would buzz and hum— the song-soul'd power 
 " Of court-born panegyric on his tongue ; 
 " His ivy-mantled brow like some grey tower 
 " Enwreath'd with frontlet green, which off he flung, 
 " To deck that Queen and King, whom ceaselessly he sung. 
 
 " But now " ■ * 
 
 " 'Tis too much, 'tis too much ! if a tear would decide, 
 Quoth Grimaldi,* " the cause has already been tried ; 
 
 * It is not generally understood, but it is nevertheless true, 
 that Signer G. is a great master of the pathetic. Those who 
 have seen " Kaloc, or the Pirate-Slave," &c. &c. &c. will not 
 doubt the propriety of his seriousness as judge on this grave 
 this high occasion.
 
 LEAVES OF LAUREL. 
 
 " And, if Hope's faded pleasures the bosom thus melt, 
 " What has Memory more of such pain to be felt?" 
 
 He spoke ; and, with energy chasten'd by taste, 
 With each word well-applied, and no thought run to 
 
 waste, 
 (Or the bard, in this effort, his lute has disgraced) 
 Rose R — g — s, and plaintively murmur'd for P — e 
 A quietus, which made every candidate cry. 
 
 " The fading moon-beams part from Pinner-green, 
 " The misty dawn steals mournful o'er the scene; 
 '* No human step pervades the dubious gloom, 
 " But nature sorrows o'er the Laureat's tomb. 
 " Pale hang the bay-leaves on their drooping stalk, 
 " And withering ivy strews his favourite walk. 
 " The silent dews their fragrant life exhale, 
 " The wakening woodland feels the chilly gale ; 
 " The stirring leaves a fancied requiem breathe, 
 " And the grass sighs for him who sleeps beneath. 
 
 " Then, in this isle, where patriot bosoms feel 
 " Their own embodied in the public weal, 
 " Can nerveless age, can glowing youth, deny 
 " One tearful tribute to the grave of P — e ?
 
 LBAVBS OF LAUREL. 
 
 " P — e, who each year with new-plum'd praise could sing 
 " The matchless Consort, and the matchless King ?" 
 
 [same ; 
 
 " The thought" said Grimaldi, " the words are the 
 " The poets but differ in measure and name ; 
 " Or, if one be more forceful, his brother's more chaste, 
 " And the scale, turn'd by genius, is balanc'd by taste." — . 
 
 — At the word rose a rival, in racing-horse haste — 
 
 " The summer day throws dying fire 
 " From Stanmore's height, from Harrow's spire;* 
 " Fair Headstone's t lowlands swiftly fade 
 " In gathering mist and closing shade ; 
 " And, Cardinal ! the pensive hour 
 " Sheds sadness on thy ruin'd bower. 
 " Dim flits the bat o'er Harrow- weald, 
 " And owl hoots hoarse in Pinner-field : 
 " 'Tis darker yet, and yet more still, 
 " By watery vale, and wooded hill ; 
 
 * The topographical imagination of the poet, here reciting, 
 has actually transported him from the New River Head to a 
 summer-house in the neighbourhood of Stanmore; and he is 
 now depicting the rural objects around him with the utmost 
 accuracy. 
 
 + Cardinal Wolsey had a house at Headstone.
 
 LEAVES OF LAUREL. 7 
 
 " Like baby hush'd on mother's breast, 
 " Meek nature droops, and sinks to rest. 
 
 '* The moon, half-hid, and half-display'd, 
 
 " Shows like warm blush of Highland maid ; 
 
 il But, redder as it gleams through Heaven, 
 
 " Blushes like sinner unforgiven. 
 
 " Why sleeps it thus on new-rais'd grave ? 
 
 " Minstrel ! it sleeps, thy pride to save. 
 
 u Go, ponder o'er that solemn sight, -v 
 
 " Go, ponder by the red moon-light, > 
 
 " And read such aweful warning right ! * 
 
 " That grave is emblem of distress 
 
 " To dreaming child of happiness ; 
 
 " That grave thy wandering step will guide, ^ 
 
 " In winter, or in summer tide ; V 
 
 " That grave will bid thee put aside J 
 
 " (Aside, proud bard, for ever put !) 
 
 <•' Both 100/. and malmsey butt. 
 
 " Oh ! follow such monition high, 
 
 " And, Minstrel, say not—" I am F — e !" * 
 
 * See a subsequent note, p;ige 18. If the last rumour, 
 there mentioned, be true, the above will be an unconscious 
 self-warning indeed ! There is something touching in this sort 
 of prophecy.
 
 8 LEAVES OF LAUREL. 
 
 " 'Tis grand," quoth Grimaldi, " 'tis wondrously grand, 
 " But it runs, I should think, rather easy in hand ; 
 " Yet I know not how boundless that spirit may be, 
 " Which can only be great when 'tis perfectly free." 
 
 But say who is He that advances so fast, 
 He has almost obscur'd the reno'.vn of the last ? 
 
 " Where is the breath of P — e ? for ever blown 
 " O'er the wide welkin, and to nothing turn'd ! 
 i( He, who once made the listening Court his own, 
 " His courtly incense now in vain has burn'd. 
 " Can all, by saint, sage, sophist, taught or learn'd,* 
 " Refill this empty P — e? — or raise his crust ? 
 " Thus perish false and true; thus, all inurn'd 
 11 In one sad nothingness, return they must [dust. 
 
 " To dust, from whence they rose, to dull, dark, f dirty, 
 
 * Quere " Deathly 7jms<?" Shakspeare has " dusty death,'" 
 Why should not adjectives and substantives change sides and 
 back again, in the Dance of Death ? Note by the Author. 
 
 + The poet here seems to have stolen from himself — See 
 C— de H— d— 
 
 " Can all saint, sage, or sophist ever writ, 
 
 " People this lonely tovv'r, this tenement reflt?" 
 
 But, indeed, the whole thought may have been suggested by the 
 well-known epitaph on Eleanor Bachelor — 
 
 " Now here she doth lie, and make a dirt pie," &c.
 
 LEAVES OP LAURKL. 9 
 
 " Wherefore deride my melancholy rhyme ? 
 " Why scoff" at sorrow's scroll ? — for what is man? 
 " A baseless bubble on the tide of time ! 
 " His fast how long, his feast how short in span, 
 " Bairam three days to four weeks Rhamazan ! * 
 " Blind beetle, spiteful spider, phantom frail, 
 11 What are thy ways ? how speeds thy proudest plan ? 
 " All that thou fear'st shall hap, thou hop'st shall fail, 
 " And Tsedium's self shall tire to tell thy twice-told tale. 
 
 " Where is the Laureat progeny of yore, 
 " Yclept illustrious in their little day ? 
 " They blazed like wills of wisp, and were no more — ■ 
 " Elkanah, Bayes himself, have passed away, 
 " Albeit they drank like us this vital ray ! 
 (l We too, eftsoons, shall wear oblivion's rust, 
 " Like thosr, who, whilome, in close coffin lay — 
 " Weak, wandering, worthless man ! say what thy trust ? 
 " When dust is all in all, and all in all is dust !"f 
 
 * Our Turkish readers will be pleased with this allusion. To 
 others we %vould observe, that the said fast and least are of the 
 proportional durations above-mentioned. 
 
 + The Author seems to have borrowed (what few hare to 
 lend, and fewer still would borrow) an inimitable burlesque upon 
 himself in this passage.
 
 10 LEAVES OF LAUREL. 
 
 " 'Tis fine !" said the judge ; " but I see not indeed 
 " If the poet is dust, how his verse should succeed ? 
 " But let this one promise his energy raise — 
 " Time shall honour the dust which inherits his praise." 
 
 — " Why, bless me ! who's here ?" cried the judge in 
 
 alarm, 
 " I see the peer-poet whom B — It — n could charm ! 
 (( And though many a rival so fierce intervenes, 
 " I acknowledge the bard who frequented the scenes." 
 
 But just as that bard was beginning to sing 
 Of Elizaheth's glories on Sydney's high string; 
 And just as he breath'd each majestical word [lord;"* 
 To some "great," or some "good," or some "wonderful 
 Burst forth a wild measure, whose vigour might warp 
 Even England to listen to Erin's high harp ; 
 If Erin's high harp has not here lost its tone, 
 And its share in so courtly a contest will own. 
 
 " Oh ! the days are gone, when Dryden bright 
 
 " The laurel wore 
 
 " When the cry for song from morn till night, 
 Was " more," still " more !" 
 
 * See the noble Lord's Poems; which contain models for 
 dedicatory addresses.
 
 LEAVES OP LAUREL. 11 
 
 New bays may bloom, 
 And bards may come 
 
 Of milder, calmer vein — 
 But there's nothing half so strong in life, 
 
 As old John's strain ! 
 Oh ! there's nothing half so strong in life, 
 
 As old John's strain ! 
 Though the harp to fresher fame may soar, 
 
 Now stale P — e's gone ; 
 Though it win the wise, so deaf before, 
 
 To hear its tone 
 'Twill never gain 
 So high a strain 
 
 In all its noon of praise 
 As the lays we drink with ravish'd ear, 
 
 Those soul-felt lays, 
 Which, at every pause, call forth a tear 
 
 For poor old Bayes ! 
 Oh ! that royal feast is ne'er forgot 
 
 For Persia won ; 
 Still it nobly paints the spirit hot 
 Of Philip's son —
 
 12 LEAVES OF LAUREL. 
 
 How could he write, 
 In one short night,* 
 
 What years may hope in vain ! 
 Oh ! there's nothing half so strong in life, 
 
 As old John's strain ! 
 Oh ! there's nothing, &c. &c. 
 
 Grimaldi was going to speak, and say " Nice /" 
 When a soft sonneteer issued forth in a trice. 
 
 " Sadler ! I see thy Wells ; yet cannot see 
 
 • ( Thine old Grimaldi — Ah ! the senior's gone, 
 * ( And we are censur'd by his son alone. 
 " Tis sad, at Sadler's Wells, that bards, that we, 
 " Should strive for laurels with small honour worn : 
 " And yet I know not, if by I — ch — 's bank 
 " Greater my honour, or more high my rank : 
 " Then should this water-scene of strife be borne j 
 " Then should I droop o'er P — 's suburban bier, 
 " And shed the tuneful tributary tear : 
 
 " 1 will And oli ! if rivals throw me back, 
 
 " And snatch the bays — be mine the butt of sack !" 
 
 * Alluding to the known story of" Alexander's Feast" having 
 been composed by Dryden in. one night.
 
 LEAVES OF LAUREL. 13 
 
 Grimaldi grew angry; but, just as he frown'd, 
 From the judge a dry poet more sympathy found. 
 
 " With tatter'd Gown, and Hair that loosely flies, 
 " Down Pinner Lanes the Muse of Monarchs hies ; 
 " The Birth-day Muse has lost her darling Son, 
 " For P — e, James P — e, the Poet Laureat's gone. 
 
 " The Village Hinds assemble round his Bier, 
 " And Richard Wilkins sheds the tenderest Tear. 
 " Richard himself a Poet had become, 
 " And left for idle Verse his busy Home. 
 " Long, over Land and Sea, he bent his Path ; 
 *' And now, worn out by Fortune's Wrongs and Wrath, 
 " Home he return'd ; and not one human Eye 
 " Or knew the Poet, or his Poetry. 
 " The Sexton late had died ; and wayward Chance, 
 " Choosing poor Richard's Fortunes to advance, 
 " Made him the Sexton ; and with tearful Eye 
 " He buried thus the tuneful Corse of P — e." 
 
 " This is nature itself!" quoth the censor — but lo ! 
 Something simpler than nature's beginning to flow.
 
 14 LEAVES OF LAUREL. 
 
 tc A child so small, I cannot tell 
 
 " How small she was indeed, 
 " Met me, while walking in the dell, 
 
 " That's nigh to Pinner mead. 
 " She pull'd me by the coat ; and oh ! 
 " She look'd, as if she wish'd I'd go, 
 " Where stood a cottage in the lane 
 " That borders upon Pinner plain. 
 (t I went with her — and then she said, 
 " The Poet Laureat, P— e, is dead." 
 " Ah me ! I answer'd sad ; and so 
 " We reach'd the little house of woe. 
 
 " The wicker gate was open'd wide, 
 " The flowers were trodden down beside ; 
 " It look'd, as if some friend had past 
 " Eager on P — e to look his last. 
 " I know not — but I heav'd a sigh — 
 " The little child stood weeping by. 
 
 " We enter'd at the cottage door, 
 <f And saw the man who was no more. 
 " That child — I never will forsake her — 
 " Though sneer'd at by the undertaker"- -
 
 JLKAVES OF LAUREL. 15 
 
 With a pitiful sob here the story broke off, 
 And hard-hearted they felt who were tempted to scoff; 
 There was something so good in the bard, yet so silly, 
 That you lov'd him and laugh'd at him too, willy nilly. 
 
 And hark! here's another! whose drawl makes you doubt, 
 If he's preaching, or praying, or what he's about. 
 
 " A poisonous tree's the laurel ; yet can bear 
 " Fruit much more fam'd than apple or than pear : 
 
 " Therefore, perhaps, it was estecm'd by P — e 
 
 " And yet, on second thoughts, I know not why. 
 
 u Though laurel leaves the conqueror's brow adorn, 
 
 " Though laurel leaves by conquering bards are worn, 
 
 " With laurel leaves did Donellan destroy 
 
 " Sir Theodosius Boughton, yet a boy. 
 
 " In human things how closely does alloy 
 
 " Mingle with purest gold ! this proverb's force 
 
 " Is shown, too clearly, by my own remorse ; 
 
 " Remorse I daily feel, for having rais'd 
 
 " The fame of actors, whom 1 weekly* prais'd. 
 
 * Other MbS. read " weakly" See the Preface to R — m — e.
 
 16 LEAVES OF LAUREL. 
 
 " And yet, reviving from its deathlike rest, -\ 
 
 " R — m — e, so long by Sh — r — d — n* supprest, j> 
 
 " Shall hail me father, spite of the fool's jest; 
 
 " Spite of stage-faults, in closet read, shall bear 
 
 " Fruit sweeter far than apple or than pear, 
 
 " Mellow renown ! — but still, perforce, I dread 
 
 " These poisonous bays ; still wish them on my head. 
 
 " How win the prize ? the drawback how avoid ? 
 
 " What thing on earth is perfectly enjoy 'd ? 
 
 " Yon centipede, indeed" f 
 
 "Nice, nice!" said the judge — but strange moanings 
 
 for P— e 
 On a bard of pale aspect attracted each eye. 
 
 " Daylight ! and yet no sleep ? 
 " O'er Sadler's Wells so deep, 
 
 * Must not this gentleman feel some remorse for having sup- 
 pressed R — m — e so long ? Quere by the Author. 
 
 t See R — m — e. The judge isso struck with the beauty of this 
 allusion, which he remembers to have heard on the Sta<;e, that 
 he cannot help interrupting the author with his usual note of ap- 
 probation," nice, nicer' and, before the perfect enjoyments of the 
 centipede can be described, the poet is overwhelmed by another 
 of the Lake or Water fraternity. This, therefore, is another in- 
 stance oi the involuntary Aposiopesu. See page 4.
 
 LEAVES OF LAUREL. 17 
 
 " O'er Islington's exalted spire, 
 " O'er Pentonville, the festal fire 
 " Streams on the blazing town from every station, 
 " And heightens Victory's Illumination. 
 " No falling rain-drop damps 
 " The lustre of the lamps ; 
 " To thee, the Mighty-One of Spain, they shine, 
 " And all this blaze of stateliness is thine. 
 " Fast fled the French o'er valley and o'er mountain, 
 " Nearly was King Joe shot by Captain Wyndham : 
 " Proudly wast thou exhibited in England, 
 
 « Staff of the Marshal ! * 
 " Horns ! horns! around the Square — 
 " What do these horns declare ? 
 " Loud as Orlando's horn from Roneevaux, 
 " From the same vales the Fall of France they blow ! 
 " Hear them ! thou modem Charlemagne ! oh hear! 
 
 " Though Dresden now is not so near 
 " To Bloomsbury-Square, as Paris on that day, 
 " To Fontarabia ! 
 
 " Joy, joy to Wellington, 
 " The glorious Wellington, 
 " Joy ! — in the passt s of the Pyrenees, 
 il Passes that never saw such passings through as these, 
 * At Vauxball!!! 
 
 c
 
 18 LEAVES OF LAUREL. 
 
 " Where hollow winds with mountain echoes sport, 
 
 " Soult has heen vanquish'd at Jean Pied de Port. 
 
 "Thy 27th and 28th, July! 
 
 " Swell'd the loud battle's cry; 
 " Till, when the harvest moon in youth appear'd, 
 " Abisbal's Conde, who no Frenchman fear'd, 
 
 " Succour'd brave Rowland Hill, 
 
 " Yet mask'd thy towers, Pamplona ! still — 
 
 " How much more calm is Pinner green ! 
 
 " There P — e's untimely tomb is seen, 
 
 " Tomb of the green in age, 
 " Tomb of the tuneful-one !■ — who still could sing 
 " To Britain's Queen, to Britain's King, 
 
 " Of annual praise a page." 
 
 " How beautiful is this !" Grimaldi cried ; 
 But now, that older candidate* he spied, 
 
 * See the first Note; which names the younger S — y as the 
 prohable successor of P — e. But the older S — y was first to be 
 the man; and we edited before the tables were turned against 
 hint. The reader and the candidate, we hope, will excuse our 
 still alluding to the earlier report. — Tros, Kutulusve fuat, nullo 
 discrimine hahemus! Indeed a third report now prevails; and 
 the " siller"' and the sack are said to be destined lor the Pegasus 
 (or Posthaste Poet) of the North ; who sleeps and eats saddled 
 and bridled, and is always ready to start. See note p. 7.
 
 LEAVES OF LAUREL. ID 
 
 Who seem'd determin'd in his purse to put 
 
 The 100/., and quart* the malmsey butt; 
 
 Not caring it" himself the but became, 
 
 And nobly trusting to His former fame. 
 
 " I know thee by thy chin, and iioary hair* — 
 
 " To claim thy right what younger bard will dare? 
 
 fi I know thee !" — said the judge — But now — dire chance 
 
 (So will the stealing foot of time advance) 
 
 Sounded the gong, that every evening tells 
 
 The glorious opening of great Sadler's Wells. 
 
 Then S — tt to see his own dear 11 — k — v flew ;f 
 
 Then R — g — s sigh'd to see C — 1 — b — s too ; 
 
 Then S — th — y, frighrei.'d at his own dire curse, 
 
 Felt poor Ladurlad's fate becoming worse, 
 
 Who saw such quantities of water brought 
 
 To raise his Water-poet's watery thought, 
 
 Still drv himself! — then, all hut one, they swear, 
 
 For Laurent honours they no longer care; 
 
 And C — b — 11 ccas'd to hope, and B — r — n to dest 
 
 pair. J 
 
 * As the Si^nor (i. is by extraction a countryman, or at least 
 a neighbour of Virgil's, we cannot wonder at this similarity ot 
 expression. 
 
 t This poem has been aqua-dramatized with £re it success at 
 Sadler's Weils. The two lovers brought on the -ta^e together 
 with the heroine have a very striking effect; and forcibly 
 remind us of the Lady and the Two 1'rpnikis; and ^mutatis 
 mutandis) of the Rival Queens; of Lucy and Polly, &c. &c.
 
 20 LEAVES OF LAUREL. 
 
 With general candour they confess it base, 
 
 To praise a monarch, even to his face ; 
 
 With general candour they confess it dull, 
 
 To start, like Stage, when empty or when full. — * 
 
 Grimaldi grinn'd — and, welcoming his grin, 
 All, but the rugged Ch8erilus,f begin 
 To smile approval on their censor's wit, 
 And sound his praise from boxes and from pit. 
 
 Then, jovous band! retiring from the play 
 To neighbouring coffee-house, X the rhymesters say, 
 " Grimaldi only can this cause decide, 
 " Grimaldi only can this ode provide ! 
 " When dying Laureats yield their butts and bays, 
 " When birth-days ask their periodic praise, 
 " Grimaldi best can judge, and best can sing 
 " Britannia's poets, and Britannia's king." 
 
 * " Twice a year, till the ode we annull, 
 " Our Laureat must play " Goodman Dw//." 
 + Charilus — 
 
 " Dan Cha?rilus was Poet-Laureat made" — 
 
 « Me 
 
 " Chaerilus, incullis qui versions, ac male nalis, 
 " Hetulit acceptos, regale numisma, Philippos — • 
 " Qui capit," &c. And here is a Fillip for him ! 
 
 ^ The Old Fool's Head; opposite the New Ditto, at Sadler'* 
 Wells.
 
 [ 21 ] 
 
 P. S. " MORE LAST LAURELS !" 
 
 The last of the Pentonville Stages (which is licensed 
 to stop only a hundred times between Paddington and 
 Pentonville) having arrived a few moments after the 
 public Recitations were closed, the following Vers de 
 Society as extemporaneous substitutes for the Author's 
 premeditated Probationary Ode, were privately recited to 
 a select party of Fashionables, at the New Fool's Head 
 opposite the Old Ditto, with universal approbation. 
 
 " Too late I'm come ! forgive my stay ! 
 
 " The coachman's was the crime ! 
 " He stopp'd to drink upon the way, 
 
 " He stopp'd the hundredth time ! 
 " Like hives, well-fill'd with humming bees, 
 
 " With bees beset around, 
 " Thick, as, beneath Hymettian trees, 
 
 " Those Attic swarms were found j 
 " The coaches kept a constant din, 
 
 " With poets stuck about 
 " And Tory bards were always in, 
 
 " And Whigs were always out.
 
 22 MORE LAST LAURELS. 
 
 " Ah ! vain my hope a place to get 
 
 " Before the latest stage ; 
 " The latest stage had tarried yet, 
 
 " Unchid by B — s — y's rage. 
 " Why, Venus ! did thy doves refuse 
 
 u Their plumage to the wheels ? 
 " Tlie Lover's heart, the Minstrel's Muse, 
 
 " But one impatience feels. 
 " Yet who would run from Lis&on green 
 
 " Could he, though slowly, ride, 
 " Where Gre — n — lie on the roof was seen, 
 
 " And Wh — r — nf snug inside? 
 " And who to sober finishment 
 
 " Such joyous journey brings, 
 " Where poets, peers, and porter lent 
 
 " Their spirits to the springs ?£ 
 
 * S'ear Paddington — where the Poets who live at the west 
 instead of I he worst end of the (own are supposed to meet the 
 
 t How uncertain are human prospects and Pentonville Stage- 
 coaches ! A candidate, who took the greatest pains lo gel a place, 
 might as well h i\ e h 
 
 + Whether the honourable Poet means the springs of the 
 Islington Spa, the New Riser, or the Pentonville Stage, is left to 
 the candid reader's judgment; who will not fail to admire an 
 eipreisiou adapted to so man)' taste* at once.
 
 MORE LAST LAURELS. 23 
 
 " Then, partial friends ! forgive my slay ! 
 
 " The coach man's was the crime ! 
 " He stopp'd to drink upon the way, 
 
 " He stopp'd the hundredth time!" 
 
 The subjoined " Tale of Terror" was also recited at the 
 same place and on the same occasion. 
 
 " ^ nv > g rnn Monk ! in every feature 
 " Are such signs of fear exprest ? 
 
 " Hast thou murder'd any creature? 
 u Is it conscience breaks thy rest ?' 
 
 " Well my visage may alarm you, 
 
 " For I've seen a ghost go by ! 
 " Ghost of him who once coulu charm you, 
 "Gibbering* (.host of Poet V— e! 
 
 " I, who've mark'd thin-sheeted phantoms 
 " Hack returning to their tombs, 
 
 " When the crowing of the bantams 
 " Call'd them to the Stygian glooms, 
 
 * Other copies read "jabbering.'
 
 24 MORE LAST LAURELS. 
 
 " Never saw sight so astounding ! 
 
 " For the Spectre, in a sigh 
 " Like a dreamt-of whisper sounding, 
 
 " Seem'd to say, " The Monk must die!" 
 
 " Will my Poems live ?" — I ask'd him — 
 " But he shook his mournful head : 
 
 " Will your own ?" — too hard I task'd him — 
 " And the sighing spectre fled ! — 
 
 " Well then may my looks alarm you, 
 " For I've seen a ghost go by ! 
 
 " Ghost of him who once could charm you, 
 " Gibbering Ghost of Poet P— e !" 
 
 P. P. S. We are requested to state (from authority) that 
 W. T. F — z — d, Esq. was one of the earliest applicants, 
 at the London office for the Pentonville coaches, for a 
 place to Sadler's Wells, on the great day of recitation at 
 the New River Head; but was totally disappointed in his 
 object. The jealousy of his rivals (thus paying him an 
 extorted compliment) is strongly suspected to have occa- 
 sioned some improper interference at the Spotted Dog, 
 from whence the coaches start.
 
 INDEX TO THE ODES. 
 
 P — e of Pinner; or the Suburban Cottage, by T. C. page J 
 
 Pleasures of Poetry, by W. R 5 
 
 The Lay of the Last Laureat, by W. S 6 
 
 " Man was made to Mourn,'' by L — d B 8 
 
 Middlesex Melodies, by T. M 10 
 
 A Sonnet, by The Reverend W. L. B 12 
 
 The Parish-Poet, by the Reverend G. C 13 
 
 "Hush a Bye! Baby Bye!" by W. W 14 
 
 The Resurrection-Tragedy, by S. T. C 15 
 
 The Blessings of a Sinecure, by R. S 16 
 
 A Poem on several Subjects, by the Honourable W. S 21 
 
 The Monk and the Stranger, by M. G. L 23 
 
 London : Printed by W. Buhner and Co. 
 Cleveland Row, St. James's.
 
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