t •i. r 1 i ^or Keaaiug ivoom Only Kdw i.ANDSON Illustrations. [W^olcott (John).] Works of "Peter Pin- dar." Willi 6 full-page satirical plates by T. Ro-wlandson, unsipied. iS Poetical Epistles in one volume, 4to, half calf, leather label, cracked at hinges. London, 1787-1789 Comprises, — Lyric Odes, for the Year 1785. 1787; Sir Joseph Banks and the Emperor of Morocco. 1788; Peter's Prophecy. 1788; An Apologetic Postscript to Ode upon Ode. 1788; Bozzy and Piozzi. 1788; Peter's Pension. 1788; Instruction^ to a Celebrated Laureat. 1788; The Lousiad. Canto I |and| Canto II. 1788;' Farcwcir Odes. For the Year 1786. 1788; Brother Peter to Brother Tom. 1788; Subjects for Painters. 1789; A Poetical Epistle to a Falling Minister, also an Imita- tion of the Twelfth Ode of Horace. 1789; More Lyric Odes to the Royal .'Academi- cians. 1789; A Poetical, Supplicating. Modest, and Affecting Epistle to those Literary Colossuses. the Reviewers. 1789; Expostulatory Odes to a Great Duke, and a Little Lord. 1789; Ode upon Ode. 1789; A Poetical and Congratulatory Epistle to lanicB Boswell. 1789. NlVcRSITY GF '■^^^> »j03..-. :^.CAUF. Woloot, John. Pindar's V^orks. no.l. Lyric odes for the year 1785, no. 2. Sir Joseph Banks and the emperor of Morocco. no, 3. Peter's prophecy* or. The President and the poet. no, 4, An apologetic postscript to Ode upon ode, no, 5. Bozzy and Piozzij or. The British biographers. no, 6, Peter's pension, no, 7, Instructions to a celebrated laureat, no,8. The Lousiad, Cante I, no, 9, The Lousiad, Canto II, no, 10, Farewel odes. For the year 1786, no, 11, Brother Peter to Brother Tom, no, 12, Subjects for painters, no, 13, A poetical epistle to a falling minister} also an imitation of the twelfth ode of Horace, no, 14, More lyric odes to the Royal academicians, no, 15, A poetical, supplicating, modest and affecting epistle to those literary colossuses, the reviewers, no, 16, Expostulatory odes to a great duke, and a little lord, no. 17, Ode upon ode; or, A peep at St. James's; or. New-year's day, no, 18, A poetical and congratulatory epistle to James Boswell, esq,, on his Journal of a tour to the Hebrides, LYRIC ODES, FOR THE YEAR 1785: B y PETER PINDAR Esq. LYRIC ODES, FOR THE YEAR 1785. B Y PETER PINDAR Esq. >\ '-■ "* ■ A DISTANT RELATION OF THE POET OF THEBES, AND LAUREAT TO THE ROYAL ACADEMY. RIDENTEM DICERE VERUM QUID VETAT ? Horat. SEVENTH EDITION. i-.' ''^ - ; i* £\ LONDON: Printed forG. Kearsley, at Johnfon's Head, No. 46, Fleet Street, M. D C C. LXXX V I I. ENTERED AT STATIONERS HALL. W7 n-^7. LYRIC ODES. O D E I. \^he divins Peter gtveth an account of a conference he held lafi year with Satire, who advifed him to attack fo?ne of the R. A.'s, to tear Mr. WeftV works to pieces^ abufe Mr. Gainfborough, fall foul of Mrs. CofwayV Sampfon^ and give a gefttle firoke on the back of Mr. Rigaud. — The Poet s gentle aJifwer to Satire — The Ode of Remon- flrance that Peter received on account of his LYRICS — Satire s Reply — Peter s refolution.'^ L\ O T, not this year the lyric Peter fings, — *' The great R. A.'s have wifli'd my fong to ceafe ; " I will not pluck a feather from your wings, — " So, Sons of Canvas ! take your naps in peace." Such was my laft year's gracious fpeech, Sweet as the King's to Commons and to Peers, Always with fenfe and tropes as plum-cake rich ; A lufcious banquet for his people's ears I B " Not [ = ] *« Not write !" cry'd Satire, red as fire with rage, " This inftant glorious war with Diilnefs wage ; . -f * Take, take my fupple-jack, • *' Play St. Bartholomew with many a back ! *' Flay half the Academic imps alive ! " Smoke, fmoke the drones of that ftupendous hiv^e. *' Begin with George's idol. Weft ; — " And then proceed in order with the reft : ** This moment knock me down his Mafter Mofes *, " On Sinai's Mountain, where his nofe is " Cock'd up fo pertly plump againfk the Lor d, " Upon my word, *' With all that eafe to Him who rules above, ** As if that Heaven and he were hand and glove.'* " Indeed," quoth I, " the piece hath points of merit, •' Though not poffefs'd throughout of equal fpirit." *< What!" anfwer'd Satire, " not knock Mofes down? ' ' O ftupid Peter ! what the devil mean ye ? ** He looks a poor pert barber of the town, " With paper lign-board out, — * Shave for a Penny.* ** Obfcrve the piteous Ifraelite once more — * * Wears he the countenance that fhould adore f * Mofes receiving the Law on Mount Sinai. *' No [ 3 ] *' No I 'tis a foil of lather^ — a rank prig ; *' Who 'ftead of fetching; the moft facred Law, *' ^^'ixh. fobe?- LOOKS, and reverential awe, *' Seems pertly tripping up to fetch a Wig. ** With all her thunder bid the Mufe ** Fall furious on the groupe of Jews,- ** Whofe {houlders are adorn'd with Chrijliart faces \ *' For by each phiz, (I fpeak without a gibe) '* There's not an Ifraelite in all the tribe, ^-^ " Not that they are encumber'd by the Graces. " Strike off the head of Jeremiah ■*, • " And break the bones of old Ifaiahf ; *' Down with the duck-wing'd Angels :{:, that abreaft " Stretch from a thing called cIoikH^ and by their looks, " Wear more the vifage of yoimg rooks *' Cawing for vidluals from their nefl:. " Deal Gainfborough a lafh, for pride fo fliff, ' Who robs us of fuch pleafure for a miff j Whofe pencil, when he chufes, can be chafte, *' Give Nature's form, and pleafe the eye of Taste. C( of cuts on Sampfon§ don't be fparing, *' Between two garden-rollers flaring, * A Tidiure by Mr. Weft. -j- Another Piflure by Weft-.. \ In the Apotheofis, a Pidure by Weft § A Pifture by Mrs. Cofway.. B 3 " Shown [ + ] " Shown by the lovely DaUlah foul play 1 " To atoms tear that * Frenchman's trafh, " Then bountifully deal the lafli " Onfuch as dar'd to dub him an R. A." Thus Satire to the gentle Poet cry'd — And thus^ with lamb-like fweetnefs, I reply 'd : — " Dear Satire ! pray confult my life and eafe j *' Were I to write whatever you deiire, " The fat would all be fairly in the fire, — *' R. A.'s furround me like a fwarm of bees, " Or like a flock of fmall birds round a fowl *' Oi folemn f peculation^ call'd an OWL." Quoth I, *' O Satire, I'm a fimple youth, " Muft make my fortune, therefore not fpeak truth, *' Altho' as fterling as the holy bible, — *' T'uth makes it (Mansfield fays) the more a libel : I fliall not fleep in peace within my hutch ; Like Dodlor Johnfonf, I have wrote too much." * Rigaud. . •\- The ftory goes that Sam, before his political CGiiverfion, replied to his prefent JVIajcfty, in the Library at Buckingham Houfe, on being afked by the Monarch, ' Why he did not write more ?'— " Pleafe your Majefty, I have " written too much:' So candid a declaration, of which the fturdy Moralift did not believe one fyllable, procured him a penfion, and a muzzle. When (C [ 5 ] When Mount Vefavius* pour'd Iiis llames, And frighten'd all the Naples dames, What did the Ladies of the city do ?. Why, order'd a fat Cardinal to go With good St. Januarius's head, And fliake it at the Mountain 'midft his riot. To try to keep the Bully quiet : The Parlbn went, and fliook the jowl, and fped ; Snug was the word — the llames at once kept houfe, The bellowing Mountaia was as mute 's a moufe. Thus, fliould Lord Mansfield from his bench agree To fliake his lion mane-like wig at me^ And bid his grim-look'd Myrmidons alTail : — With heads Medufan, and with hearts of bone ; Who, if they did not ii^rn me Kwto Ji one ^ Might turn my limbs, fa- gentle ^ into jai/.. Read, read this Ode, juft come to hand, Giving the Mufe to underftand. That cruely and fcandal fwell her fong. And that 'twere better far fhe held her tongue. * See Sir WlU'tam Hamilton's accounti € To [ 6 ] To PETER PINDAR, Esc^, .A Thoiiflmd frogs, upon a rummer's day, Were fporting 'midft the funny ray. In a large pool, refleding every face ; — They fhow'd their gold-lac'd cloaths with pride, In harmlefs fallies, frequent vied, And gambol'd through the water with a grace. It happen'd that a band of boys, Obfcrvant of their harmlefs joys, Thoughtlefs, refolv'd to fpoil their happy fport';. One frenzy feiz'd both great and small, On the poor frogs the rogues began to fall. Meaning x.oJplaJlj them, not to do them hu}~l. As Milton quaintly lings, ' the ftones 'gan pour,' Indeed an Dtaheite fhow'r ! The confequence wz^. dreadful, let me tell ye; One's eye was beat ioiit of his head ; — This limp'd away, that Jay for dead, — :Here mourn'd a broken back, and tiicre a bellv. Amongfi: [ 7 ] Amongft t\\cfmitte?iy it was found, Their beauteous Queen receiv'd a wound ; The blow gave ev'ry heart a figh, And drew a tear from ev'ry eye : — At length King CROAK got up^ and thus begun— " My lads, you think this very pretty fun ! * Your pebbles round us fly as thick as hops, — " Have warmly complimented all our chops ; — '* To you I guefs that thefe zx^ pleafaiit Jlo7ies ! " And fo they might be to us Fi'ogs^ *' You damn'd, young, good-for-nothing dogs, *' But that they are fo harcl^ — they break our bones." Peter! thou mark' ft the meaning of this fable — So put thy Pegafus into the ftable ; Nor wanton thus with cruel pride. Mad, Jehu-like, o'er harmlefs people ride. To drop the metaphor, — the Fair*, Whofe works thy Mufe forbore to fpare, Is bleft with talents Envy muft aprove ; And didft thou know her heart, thou'dft fay — ** Perdition catch the idle lay!" . Then ftrike thy Lyre to Innocence and Love. * Mrs. Cofway. «' Poh! [ 8 ] " Pohl poll!" ciy'd Satire, with a fmile, <' Where is the glorious freedom of our Iflc, " If not permitted to call names ? " . Methought the argument, had weight — <' Satire," quoth I, " you're very right"- So once more forth volcanic Peter flames ! ODE II The Poet correSieth the Miifes voarmth^ 'who hegirmeth with- little lefs tha?i calling najnes — Hi?2teth at fome academic Giants — And concludeth with a pair of apt and elegant Similies^ " Tag RAGS and Bobtails of the facred Brufh!"- For Heaven's fake, Mufe, be prudent: — -Hufh! huflil hulhl; The Ode with too much violence begins : The great R. A.'s, fo jealous of their fame, Will all declare of the7?ty we make a game. And then, the Lord have mercy on our fkins ! Think [ 9 ] Think what a formidable Phalanx, Miife, Strengthen'd by MciTieurs Garvay and Rigaiid, and Co. How dangerous fuch a body to abufe! Then there's among the Academic crew, A MAN *, that made the prefident look blue ; Brandifh'd his weapon— with a whirlwind's forces, Tore by the roots his iloiiri/hing difcoiirfes ; And fwore his own fweet Irifh howl could pour A half a dozen fuch, in half an hour. Be prudent, Mufe !— once more I pray- In vain I preach ! th' advice is thrown away : Ev'n now you turn your nofe up with a fneer, And cry — " Lord ! Reynolds hath no caufe to fear : When Barry dares the Prelident to fly on, 'Tis like a Moufe, that, work'd into a rage, Daring moft dreadful war to Vv'age, Nibbles the tail of the Nemcean Lion. Or like a Loufe, of mettle full, Nurs'd in fome Giant's fkull— Becaufe Goliath fcratch'd him as he fed. Employs with vehemence his angry claws, And gaping, grinning, formidable jaws, To carry off X.\\t Giant's Head ! * Mr. Barry. D ODE lo 3 ODE III. The Poet addreffeth Sir William Chambers, a Gentlejnan oj confequence in the EleSiion of R. A.'s — He accujeth the Knight of a partial and ridiculous diflribution of the Acade7nic Hofiours — 'Threateneth Imn with Rhime — Ad~ vifeth a reformation. NE mimite, gentle Irony, retire- o Behold ! I'm graver than a mujlard pot ; The Mufe with bile hot as fire, Could call fool^ puppy, blockhead, and what not ? As brother Horace has it — tumet jecur : > Nor in her angry progrefs will I check her. I'm told, that Satan hath been long at work To bring th' Academy into difgrace ; Oh ! may that Member's b — ck — de feel his fork. Who dares to violate the facred place ! Who dares the devil join In fo nefarious a defign ? Yet, lo ! what dolts the honours claim ! I leave their Works to tell their name. Th' [ " ] Th' Academy is like a microfcope— For by the magnifying power, are feen Objeds, that for attention ne'er could hope ; No more, alas ! than if they neer had been. So rare a building, and fo grac'd With monuments of ancient tafte, Statues and Bufts, Relievos and Intaglios ; Vox fuch poor thmgs to watch the treafure, Is laughable beyond all meafure, — 'Tis juft like Eunuchs put to guard Seraglios. Think not, Sir William, I'm in jeft — By Heaven ! I will not let thee reft : Yet thou may'ft blufter like bull -beef fo big ; And of thy own importance full, Exclaim — "Great cry^ and little wool!''' As Satan holla'd, when he fhav'd the Pig. Yes, thou fhalt feel my tomahawk of fatire, And find xhsit fcalping is a ferious matter : Shock'd at th' abufe, how rage inflames my veins ! Who can htX-^ fwearing, when fuch wights he fees Crept to th' Academy by ways and means, Like mites and fkippers in a Chefhire cheefe } What [ '2 ] What beifigs will the next year's choice difolofe, The Academic lift to grace ? ^om.^ fkehtotis of art, I do luppofe, That ought to blulli to Ihow their face. Sir William ! tremble at the >,lufe*s tongue ; Parnaflus boafts a formidable throng I All people recollect poor Marfyas' fate, Save fuch as are dead, drunk, or faft afleep : Apollo tied the culprit to a gate, And flay'd him as a butcher flays a flieep : And why ? — Lord ! not as hiftory rehearfes, Becaufe he fcorn'd his piping, — but his verfes : In vain, like a poor pilloried punk, he bawl'd And kick'd and writh'd, and faid his pray'rs, and fprawl'd; 'Twas all in vain — the God purfu'd his fport, And puU'd his /jic/e off, — as you'd pull your Jhirt J Then bid not rage the Mufe's foul inflame, Whofe thundering voice dam72ation makes or fame. You'll afk me, perhaps, " Good Mafter Peter, pray " What right have j^fJ^ to fpeak ?" — then pertly fmile: I'll tell you, Sir— My pocket help'd to pay For building that expenflve pile, A pile that credit to the nation gains. And docs foms honour to your worfliip's brains. It f '3 ] It made a tax on candles and fhoe-leather, Of monftrous ufe in dirty weather : It made a tax on butcher's fliops, So fpread its influence o'er poetic chops ; A mofl: alarming tax to ev'ry Poet, Whofe poor lank greyhound ribs with forrow £how it. Therefore, Sir Knight, pray mend your manners, And don't chufe coblers, blackfmiths, tinkers, tanners Some people love the converfe of low folks To gain broad grins for good-for-nothing jokes — Tho' thou, 'midif dulnefs, may'fl be pleas'd to JJji?ie, — Reynolds fhall ne'er fit cheek-by-jowl with Swine. E ODE [■■ u ] ODE IV 'T'hs Pozt again payzth his refpeSis to Sir William Chambers — Complai'rieth of his ilUhe^ality^ in: his choice. c/'R. A's— > Advifeth him to keep company with Prudence, whom-xhe defcribeth mofr i\2iXMV2My—~ H^threatneth i}H Knight — And conctudeth with a beautiful Si'mih. r JL H E Mufe is in the fidgers"-^can't itt ftfll She mud have t'other talk with you, Sir Will. Since her laft Ode, with forrow hath flie heard You want not men with \i^2>.vv\y genius blell, But wifh the title of R. A. conferred On fuch as catch the bugs, and Aveep the fpiders befl, Wafh of the larp-er ftatues beft, the faces. And clean the dirty linen of the Graces : Scour befl: the ikins of the young marble brats, Trap mice, and clear th' Academy from rats. You look for men whofe heads are rather ttdbip. Or, drum-like, better form'd for yo?.fW than y^?//^ ; — Pleas'd with the fine Arabian to difoenfe. You want the big-bond drayhorfe for your rubbifi. Raife [ '5 ] Raife not the Mu:(e's anger, I defirc ; \ Kigh-born, (hth hotter than the lightning's fire, And proud ! (believe the Poet's word) Proud as the lady of a new-made Lord ; Proud, as in all her gorgeous trappings dreft, />") Fat Lady Mayoress at a City feaft ; ,ii:cl "VVhofe fpoufe makes wigs, or fome fuch glorious thing, Shoes, gloves, hats, nightcaps, breeches, for the King I Prudence, Sir William, is a jewel, — Is cloaths, and meat, and drink, and fuel ! Prudence ! for man the very beft of wives. Whom Bards hsivc feldom met with in their lives ; Which, certes, doth account for, in fome meafure, Their grievous want of worldly treafure, On which the greatejl blockheads make their brags ; And Hioweth why v/e fee, inftead of lace. About the Poet's back, v/ith little grace, Thofe fluttering, French-like followers, — call'd rags. Prudence ! a fweet, obliging, curtfying lafs, F/'/ through this hypocritic world to f>ajs ! Who kept at iirft a little pedling iTiop, Swept her own room, twirl'd her own mop, Wafh'd her own fmocks, caught her own fleas, And rofe to fame and fortune by degrees ; Wlio, when flie enter\l other people's houfes. Till fpoke to, was as filent as a moufe is ; A;id [ '6 ] And of opinions, though poffefs'd a ftore, She left them with her pattens — at the door. Sir WilHam, you're a hound! and hunting fame ;- Undoubtedly the woman is fair game : But, Ninirod^ mind — my Mufe is whipper-in I So that if ever you difgrace, By turning cm\ your noble race, The Lord have mercy on your curJJjip's fkln ! ODE V. The Poet ope7ieth his, account of the Exhibitors at the Aca~ demy — Praifeth Reynolds — Half damneth Mr. Weft — Completely damneth Mr. Wright of Derby — mentioneth Mr. Yvi{i^\— Compliment eth Mr. Opie. iVX USE, fing the wonders of the prefent year : Declare what works of fterling worth appear. Reynolds, his heads divine, as ufual, gives. Where Guido's, Rubens', Titian's genius lives! Works ! I'm afraid, like beauty of rare quality ^ Born foon to fade ! — too fubje6l to mortality ! 3 West [ '7 ] West mod jiidicioiifly my coimfel takes, Paints bv the acre — witnefs Parfon Peter * : For garbs, he very pretty blankets makes, Derer\dng praifes in the fweeteft metre. The flefli of Peter's audience is not good^ Too much like iv^ory, and ftone, and wood ; Nor of the figures, dare I praife tKexpreJfiojiy "With, fome folks thought 2. trife of tranfgreJfio?i. West, your Laf Supper is a hung?y piece ; — Your Tyburn Saints will not your fame increafe : With looks fo thievifh, with fuch fkins of copper 1 Were they for fale, as Heaven's my judge. To give five farthings for them I.fiiould grudge, Nay, ev'n my old tobacco ftopper. , Candour muft own, that frequently thy paints Have play'd the devil with, the Saints : For 7ne ! I fancy them like doves and throfles ! But thou, if we believe thy art, Enough to make us pious Chriftians y^^r/, . Haft very fcurvy notions oi Apofiles, . What of thy f landfcape fiiall I fay, , "Holding the old white fow, and fucking litter ? Curs'd be the moment, curs'd the day, Thou gav'ft the mufe fuch reafon to be bitter! ; * Peter preaching, by Wcfl. -f- A nioft pitiable performance indeed.— It may be fairly called the Data^e of the art. F • But, [ i8 ] But, Mufe, be foft, 2iTidL gently , gently i\'^\ — " More damned ftuiFwas never feen by eye." Yet mind ! thy Lafidfcape equals Derby Wright's*, Whofe canvas gives us very difmal nights : O'er woollen hills, where gold 2in.A Jilver moons, Now mount like Sixpences, and now Balloons ; Where curling wild, in different diredlions, Nice vermicelli reprefents rejle&ions ! In fhort, where ev'ry thing we fee appear, Seems to exclaim — '* What bujQnefs have we here ?" FusELi refumes the brufh to pleafe the few : He deems the million, fenfelefs, arrant crew For ridicule ; — juft^/ to make 2ifeajl- — A Caliban — a great unjudging beaft, Whofe crab-like foul to no great heights can climb. And therefore cannot feel the true Sublime. Op IE this year (fo fay his forms and faces) Hath deign'd to pick acquaintance with the Graces. But where are all his old heads flown ? Pray, Mafter Opie, leave your tricks. And let our eyes fometimes on pictures fix That Rembrandt had been^r^Wto oivn. ■* A Painter of Moon-lights. ODE [ «9 ] ODE VI. The Poet addrejfetb Majejly — Pleadeth the caufe of poor^ ftarving Poetry — He achiovoledgeth in a former Ode the kindfiejj'es of Fa^ney yet throweth out a Hi?it to his Majejly that his fna?ices may be improved — He relateth a mar- vellous ft ory of a yefuit — Recommendeth fomethi?ig fmilar to his Sovereign, xxN'T pleafe your Majefty, I'm everjoy'd To find your family lb fond of Painting ; I wifli her fifter POETRY employ 'd Poor, dear, negledled girl ! with hunger fainting. Your Royal Grandlire, (truft me, I'm no fibber) Was vaftly fond ot Collet Gibber. For fubje^ls, how his Majefty would hunt ! And if a battle grac'd the Rhine, or Wefer, He'd cry — '' Mine Poet fal inak Ode upon't !" Then forth there came a flamino; Ode to C^sar, Dreacf Dread Sire, pray recoiled a bit Some glorious a To^^iv^e'theirtuMesf'feiisaM dlfcy ;:^^^\ ^^ " To bring increafe of fowl-fecundity: It anfwer'd— -On their turkies, ducks and hens. The country people all were full of brags Whofe little bums, in barns, and ihows, and fens. Squat down, and laid like conjuration bags. I wifh thisy^^^ experiment were try'd Upon the Mufe, my gentle bride ; And flips of paper giv'n her, with this pray'r- " Pay to the bearer fifty pounds at fight." Her fweet prolific pow'r^ 'twould fo deligljt^ She^d breed like a iame rabbit or 2i hare I * Divifum Iraperium, cum Jove, Ca;far habet. ' ODE 21 ODE VII. Peter s account of ^wonderful Reliques ifi France^ witlj the de- votion paid to them — "The fe7ifibh application to Painters and Paintijigj by way of Simile. In France fome years ago — fome twenty three, At a fam'd Church, where hundreds daily joftle, I wifely paid a Prieft fix fous to fee The thumb of Thomas the Apoftle. Gaping upon Tom's thumb, with 7ne in wonder, The rabble rais'd its eyes — like ducks in thunder ; Becaufe in virtues it was vaftly rich. Had cur'd poffefs'd of devils, and the itch j Work'd various wonders on a fcabby pate Made little fucking children ftraight, Though crook'd like rams horns by the rickets ; Made people fee, though blind as moles, — And made your fad, hyfteric fouls. As gay as grafhoppers and crickets % Brought nofes back again to faces, Long ftol'n by Veims and her Graces ; And eyes to fill their parent fockets, Of which' fad love had pick'd their pockets : And had the Priefl permitted^ with their kiffes, The mob had fmack'd the holy thumb to pieces. G Though [ ^^ ] Though, Reader, 'twas not the ApoPde's thumb, — But mum ! It play'd as well of miracles the trickj Although a painted piece oi Jlick ! For {ix fous more, hehold ! to view, was bolted ^^ feather of the Angel Gabriel's wing ! Whether 'twas .pluck 'd by force, or calmly molted, • No holy legends, tell, nor Poets ling. But mas it Gabriel's feather, heav'nly Mufes ? It was not Gabriel's feather, but a Goofe s ! But ftay ! from truth we would not wifK to wander, For, pollibly, the owner was a Gander. Painters ! you take me right : — The m.ufe fuppoles You make your coiip-de-mattre dafhes, Chriften them eyes, and cheeks, and lips and nofes. Beards, chins, and whifkers, and eyelafhes ; As like, p'rhaps, as a horfe is like a phanb^ Or forefaid ftick, St. Tom th' Apoftle's thumb. With purer eyes the Britifh vulgar fees ; We are no Crawthuj?ipers, no Devotees ; So that whene'er your figures are- 7nere wood^ Our eyes will never think 'Qxnjlefi and blood. ODE [ =3 3 ODE VIII. "The ge?ierous Peter refcueth the immortal Raphael fro;n tbi obloquy (j/' Michael Angelo — "The Poet moralizetb — Telleth ^ ftory not to the credit of Michael Angelo, and nobly defendeth Raphael^ Jia^ne againjl his i?ividious attack — Concludeth with a mojl fage obfervation, XJlOW difficult in Artifts to allow To brother bruflimen ev'n a grain of merit ! Wiiliing to tear the' laurels from their brow, They fliew a fniv'ling, diabolic fpirit. So 'tis ! however moralifts may chatter — What's worfe ftill — nature will be always nature. We can't brew Burgundy from four fmall beer. Nor make a lilken purfe of a fow's ear. Sweet is the voice of Praife I — from eve to morn, From blufhing morn to darkling eve again, My Mufe the brows of Merit could adorn, And, lark-like, fwcU the Panegyric ftrain. Praise [ 24 1 Praise, like the balm which evening s dewy ftar Sheds on the drooping herb and fainting flower Lifts modeft, pining Merit from defpair, And gives her clouded eye a golden hour. p X take me if ever I read the ftory Of Michael Angela without much fwearing : 'Tis fuch a flice cut off from MichaeFs glory, He furely had been brandying it, or beering : That is, in plainer Englifli, he was drunk. And candour from the man w^th horror fhrunk. Raphael did honour to the Roman fchool. Yet Angelo vouchfaf 'd to call him fool ; When working in the Vatican, would ftare, Throw down his brufh, and ftamp and fwear, If e'er a porter let him 'm—h.€ djione him, And if he Raphael caught— moft furely bom him. He fwore the world was a rank afs To pay a compliment to Raphael's fluff'. For that he knew the fellow well enough, And tliat his paltry metal would not pafs. Such was the language of this falfe Italian : One time he chriftened Raphael a PygmaHon, Swore that his madams were compos'd of ftone ;. Swore his expreflions were like owls fo tame. His drawings, like the lameft cripple, lame ; That as for compofition, he had none.. I. Young [ =5 ] Young Artlfls I thcfe aflertlons I deny ; — — — 'Twas idle ill manners~-not to fay a lie : Raphael did r^^s^/ excellence inherit, And if you ever chance to paint as well, I bonajide do foretel. You'll c&rtainly be men o^ merit. ODE IX. The gojfiping Peter telleth a l^range Story^ and true, though ftrange ; — Seemeth to entertain no very elevated opi?zio7is of the wifdofn of Kings — Hi?iteth at the narrow efcape of Sir Jofhua Reynolds— Tkfr. Ramfay'j- Riches— A Recovunen- datioji of Flattery as. a Specific in Fortune-mahng. I'M told, and I believe the flory, That a fam'd Queen of Northern brutes, A GENTLEWOMAN q'l prodigious glory, Whom cvry fort of epithet ivellfuits ; Whofe hu{band dear ]u^ happening to provoke her. Was {hov'd to Heaven upon a red-hot poker ! Sent to a certain KING, not King of France — Dcfiring by SIR JOSHUA's hand his PHIZ^ What did the Royal Quiz ? Why, damn d genteelly J fat to Mr. Dance * ! * The true reafon that induced His Majefly to fit to Mr. Dance, whs laudable Royal ccconomy. Mr. Dance charged Fifty Pounds for the Pidtuie — Sir JoiHUA Reyi^olps's price was fomewhat more than a Hundfi^d — a very great dilTerence in the market price of Paint and Canvas, and, let me. fay, that juftified the preference given to the man who worked cleapejt. H Then [ =6 T Then lent it to tlie Northern Queen — As fweet a bit of 'vcood as e'er was feen ! And therefore mofl u7iUh the PRINCELY HEAD- He midit as well have fent a PIG OF LEAD. o Down ev'ry throat the piece was cramm'd As done by REYNOLDS, and deierv'dly damn'd ; For as to Mafter Dance's art. It ne'er was worth a iingle ! Reader, I BLUSH ! — am delicate this- time! So let thy IMPUDENCE fupply the RHIME. Thank God! that PC ings cannot on'r 'tafie controiil, And make each fubjecl's poor, fnbmifiive foul Admire the TASTE that JUDGEMENT oft cries fie on : Had things beenfo, poor Reynolds , we had feen, Painting a BARBER's POLE, —an ALE-HOUSE QUEEN, The CAT and GRIDIRON, or the old RED LION ! At *Plympton, perhaps, for fome grave Dodor Slop, Painting the pots and bottles of the fliop ; Or in the DRAMA, to get meat to munch, His brufh divine had pidur'd fcenes for PUNCH 1 Whilft WEST was whelping 'midfi his paints, Mofes and Aaron, and all forts of Saints ! ^ Sir Joflim's native fpot, in Dcvonfliire. Adams [ ^7 ] Adams and Eves, and Snakes and Apples, And Dev'is, for beautifying certa'm CHAPELS t But Reynolds is wo favourite, that's the matter ^ He hath not learnt the noble art — lo flatter *. Thrke happy times, when MONARCHS lind them hard things To teacli us what to view with achnlration ; And like their heads on halfpence and brafs farthings^ Make their OPINIONS airrent throu2;h the nation I I've heard that RAMSAY f when he died, Left juft nine rooms well ftuff'd with Queens and Kings ; From whence all nations might have been fupplied That lo?igcl for valuable things. Viceroys, Ambafladors, and Plenipos Bought them to join their raree fliows In foreign parts. And fhow the PPvOGRESS of the BRITISH ARTS. \¥hether they purchas'd by the pound oryard^ I cannot tell, becaufe I never heard ;- But this I kfiGw, hi^fjop was like -a. fair. And dealt moft largely in the ROYAL WARE. * This. Ode was compofcd before Sir Joiliua was. dubbed King's Painter. Poffibly the great Artift dreanlt of my BEAUTIFUL LYRIC, and purfued its advice. -y Late Painter to his ^Llje^•)^ See [ =s ] See what it is to gam a Monarch's fmile ! — And halt thou inifs'd it, Reynolds, all this while ? How ftiipid ! prithee, feek the COURTIER's SCHOC And learn to- manufadure OIL of FOOL. PLATTERY's the turnpike-road to Fortune's door-— 'Truth is a narrow lane, all full of quags, Leading to broken heads, abufe, and rags. And workhoufes, — fad refuge for the poor I— flattery's a Mountebank {o. fpruce — gets riches ; TRUTH, a plain Simon Pure, a Quaker Preacher, A Moral Mender, a difgufting Teacher, That never got a fixpence by her SPEECHES I ODE X. The lofty Peter hegm7ieth with an original Shnile — Dif- flayeth a deep knowledge of Homer and moderji Dut- cheffes — Concludeth with a Prophecy about his. Sovereign. X AINTERS who figure in the Exhibition,. Are pretty nearly in the fame condition "With cocks on Shrove-tide, which the feafon gathers i Flung at by ev'ry lubber, ev'ry brat, That hath the fenfe to throw a bat, To break their bones, and knock about their feathers. This E =9 ] This little dilFrencc, however, lies, Between the Painter and xhefoivl I find • The Artift for the poft of danger tries The Fowl is faft'ned much againft his.mind',. Who, as to his dread fentcnce,. would annul it • Sue out his /jai>eas corpus,, and inftead Gf being beat with bats about the head, Make handfonie love ta a fmart pullet.. And yet the Painter like a booby groans, Who courts the very bats that break his bones-. But '■iv/jo from fcandal is exempt ?' /i^i-d? doth not meet, at times, contempt? Great Jove, the Godof Gods, iir fgures rich,. Oft call'd his bofom Queen 2. fancy bitch-, Achilles* called great Agamemnon Zv-r, An impudent, deceitfid, dirty dog ! . Behold oiu- loft)^ DutchefTes pull cap, . And give each other's reputations raps, . As freely as the drabs of Drury's fchool ; . And who, pray, knov/s that GEORGE our gracious Kin^;, (Said by his courtiers to knov/ e-vcry thinf) , May not, hy future tijnes^ be call'.d a Fool ! .*-Vid;.HOMEP.. I ODE [ 30 ] ODE XI. The Bard fenfibly reproveth the young Artijls for their pro- pe?ifity to ahufe — Moft wittily compareth them to Horfs leeches^ Game cocks, and Curs. ^ H E mean, the ranc'rous jealoufies that fwcll In fome fad Artifts' fouls, I do defpife ; Inftead of nobly Jlj'iving to excel^ YoM firive to pick out one the other's eyes. To be a Painter, was Corregio's glory- His fpeech ihould flame in gold—" SONO PITTORE." But what, if truth were fpoke, would h^your fpeeches ? This — " We're a fet of fame- fucking horfe leeches, *' Without a blujhy the poorejl fcandal fpeaking,— — - " Like cocks, for ever at each other beaking ; *' As if the globe we dwell on wQvcfo fmall " There really was not room enough for all," Young men ! I do prefume that one of you in ten Hath kept a dog or two, and hath remark'd. That when you have been comfortably feeding. The curs, without one atom of court breeding. With watery jaws, have whin'd, and paw'd, and bark'd ; Show'd [ 31 ] Show'd anxioiifncrs about the mutton bone. And 'ftead o^ you?- mouth, wifh'd it in their own ; And if you gave this bone to one or t'other, Heav'ns what a fnarling, quarrelling and pother ! This, perhaps, had often touch'd you to the quick. And made you teach good manners by a kick \ And if the tumult was beyond all bearing, A little bit o{ fweet emphatic fwcaring. An eloquence of wondrous ufc in wars, Amongft Sea Captains and the brave Jack Tars. Now tell me honcftly — pray don't you find Somewhat in Chriftians juft of the fame kind That you experienc'd in the curs, Cauiing your anger and demurs ? As, for example, when your miftrefs, FAME, Wifhing to celebrate a worthy name, Takes up her trump to give the juft applaufe, How have you, puppy-like, paw'd, wifli'd and whin'd j And growl'd, and curs'd, and fwore, and pin'd. And long'd to tear the trumpet from her jav/s ! The dogs defer v'd their kicking to be fure ; ViVXyou ! O fie, boys ! go and lin no morCf ODE { 3= ] ODE XII. The companionate Peter lament eth the Death of Mr. 'Hone> an R. A. Reco77imendeth him to Oblivion, the great Pa-- tron of a number of Geiiiufes.. X here's one R. A. more dead \ ftiff is poor Hone ! His works be with him under the fame ftone : I think the facred Art will not bemoan 'em 5 But, Mufe ! — De mortuis nil niji bo?mfn — As to his hoft a traveller, with a fneer. Said of his dy.a'd fmall-beer. "Go then, poor Hone ! and join a numerous train Sunk in OBLIVION'S wide pacific ocean ; And may its 'whale-like ftomach feel no motion To caft thee, Hke a JONAH, up again. O DE [ 33 ] ODE XIII. The Poet exhibit eth the Inconjlmicy of the Worlds by a niojl elegant Cof7Jparifon of a Flock of Starli?Jgs. X OUNG Artifts, it may fo fall out That folks fhall make a grievous rout : Follow you — praife your painting to the fkies ; When, perhaps a ribband, (fie upon it !) A feather, or a tawdry bonnet, Caught, by its glare^ their wonder-fpying eyes. Therefore, don't thence fuppofe that you inherit Mountains of unexampled merit ; That ahvays you f Jail be purfu'd, And like a wondrous Beauty woo'd. Great is the world's inconftancy, God knows f Fame, like the ocean, ebbs, as well as fows ; Next year the million pitches on a Ruff, A Balloon Cap, — a Shawl, — a Muff; • For you, no longer cares a fingle rufh, ¥o\\o\y'm^fdme other brother of the Brufh. K To [ 34 ] To raiie to nobler flights the Mufe's wing, Kfwiile?, a very pretty thing ; To whofe fweet aid I'm oft a humble debtor, T'illuftrate with more force the thing I mean ; And if the Simile be neat and cleair, Tant mieux — that is — -fo much the better. Therefore, young folks, as there's a great deal in't, Accept one j lift imported from the mint. You've feen a flock of Starlings, to be fure, A hundred thoufand in a 7;iefs or more ; Who fortunately having* found A lump of horfe litter upon the ground, Down drops the chattering cloud upon the dung, Then Lord, v^hsit doiiigs ! Heavens, ■wh.z.M achniratioTi ! Whatyoy, what tra?ifport 'midft the fpeckled nation! How bufy ev'ry beaky and ev'ry tongue I All talking, gabbling, but none hft'ning, Juft like a group of goflips at a chrift'ning ; Let but a cowdab (how its grafs-green face. They're up^ without fo much as faying grace ; And lo ! the bufy flock around it pitches ! Juft as upon the lump before, They gabble, wonder, and adore ! And equal brother Martyn's * fpeeches. Thefe ftarlings ihow the world with great propriety, Mad as March Hares, or Curlews for Variety. * A much-adiiurcd Spcskcr in the Houfe of Commons, who ncni. con. was baptized the Starlr„g MARTYN. I ODE [ 35 ] ODE XIV. T/^e Great Peter defpifeth Fre7ichmen, I B E G it as a favour, my young folks, You will not copy, money-like, the French, Whofe pictures, juftly, are all (landing jokes, Whether they reprefent a man or wench. If Monfieur paints a man of fafhion. Making an obeifance well bred, The gentleman's a ram-cat in a pailion, His back all crumpled o'er his head : Or, if he paints a wretch upon the wheel, And bone breaking's no trifling things G--d knows \ Amidft his pains the fellow's fo genteel ! Wc feels with fuch decorum all the blows. Or- if a culprit's going to the devil. Which fome folks alfo deem a ferious evil. So degage you fee the man advance. His arms, hands, fhoulders, turn'd-out toes, Madona-lifted eyes and cock'd up nofe, Proclaim the pretty puppy in a dance. I've feen a fleeping Venus, I declare. With hands and legs ftretch'd out \\\x}iifiich an air ! Her neck and headyo twifted on one fhoulder, Withy^c^ a heavnly fmile, that each beholder Would [ 36 ] Would fwear, (difdaining Dancing's vulgar track) The Dame was walking minuets on her Back ! E'en an old woman yielding up her breath By means of cholic, ftone, or gravel ; How fmirkingly ilie feels the pangs of death ! With what ^. grace her foul prepares to travel! A Frenchman's Angel is an OPERA PUNK ;» His Virgin Marys— milleners half drunk ; Our blefl: Redeemer, a rank petit maitre^ In every attitude and feature ; The humble Jofeph, fo genteelly made, And only fit to comflment his wife, So delicate ! as if he fcarcely knew Oak from deal board — a gimblet from a fcrew ; And never made a Mouse trap in his lite. Think not I wantonly attack thofe people : — In prejudice that I'm as ftiff 's a fteeple ; No!— yet, I own I hate the fhrugging dogs — I've liv'd amongft them,, eat their frogs. And vomited them up, thank God, again j So that I'm able now to fay, I carried nought of theirs away, Which otherwife had made the puppies vain. ODE [ 37 J ODE XV. V The C07iceited Peter turneth an arrant Egotijl — Mentioneth a mimber of fine Folks — This minute condemneth Will. Whitehead'^ Verfes and the next, exculpateth the Laureate by clapping the right faddle 07i the right horfe. X%i O Giant more rejoiceth In his courfe, Not Count O' Kelly in a winning horfe ; Not Mrs. Hobart* to preferve a box, Not George the Third to triumph o'er Charles Fox: Not Spain's wife Monarch to bombard Algiers Not Pillories, order'd by the Law's ftern voice, Can more rejoice To hold Kitt Atkinfon's two ears ; Not more rejoiceth patriotic Pitt By patriotic Grocers to be fed, Not Mother Windfor f in a fair young Tit, Nor gaping Deans, to hear a Bill:iop's dead : Not more reform'd John Wilkes to court the Crown, Nor Skinner in his Aldermannic gown, Nor Common Councilmen on turtle feeding : * The contell between Mrs. Hobart and Lady Salifbury, with their Seconds, »bout a Box at the Opera, is a Subject for the moft fublme Epic ! •\ A Prieftcfs of the Cyprian Goddefs. L Not .. .; J ■ t 38 J Not more rejoice old envious Maids ^ (o ftale, To hear of weeping Beauty a /ad tale. And tell the world a reigning Toaft is breeding : — Than I, the Poet, in a lucky Ode That catches at a hop the Cynic face ; Kills by a laugh its grave Bubonic face ; And tears, in fpite of him, his jav\^s abroad. And are there iuch grave Dons that read my rhymes ? All gracious Heav'n forgive their crimes ! Oh ! be their lot to have wife-talking wives ; And if in reading they delight, To read, ye Gods ! from morn to night. Will Whitehead^ * Birth-day Sonnets all their lives. Perhaps, reader, thou'rt a tinker, or a tanner. And mendeft kettles in a pretty manner ; Or tanneft hides of bulls, and cows, and calves : But if the faucepan, or the kettle. Originally be bad metal, Thoul't fay, " It only can be done by halves \ " Or if by nature bad the bullocks' fkins, " They'll make vile fhoes and boots for people's y^/;?j-, '* * This Ode was written before a late Laureat refign'd his earthly crown for a heavenly one. May Mr. Tom Warton be more fuccefsful in his Pindaric adulations, and not verify the Latin adage — Ex nihilo, nihil fit. Then [ 39 ] Then wherefore do I thus abufe Will Whitehead's hard-drivn Mufe ? Who merits rather Pity's tend' reft figh : For what the devil can he do, When forc'd to praife — the Lord knows isoho I Verfe mujl be dull on fubje^ls fo damn'd dry. ODE XVI. 'The clajfic Peter advifeth Painters to cultivate Tajle — Lap- eth fome of the Ignorant — Accujeth Painters of a?i affec-- tion for vulgarity, 'whom he horfe-whippeth — Recom^nen- deth a charming fuhjeB — Telleth the fecret of his Love, and giveth a die-away Sonnet of for7ncr days — P erf ecu- teth Tenier's Devils, but applaudeth the Execution.. JT AINTERS, improve your education, That furely ftands in need of reformation. I've heard that fome can neither write no read. Which does no honour to the hand or head. Many, I know, would rather paint a bear^ Or monkey playing his quaint tricks, Than fome fweet damfel, whom all hearts revere, Whofe charms the eye of admiration fix — Would rather fee 2i flump with ftrength expreft, Than all, the fnowy fullnefs of her Breaft, Or Lip, that Innocence fo fweetly moves. Or SMILE, the fond Elyfium of the Loves.. This- [ 40 ] This brings tliofe days to mem'ry when my tongue, To Cynthia's Beauty pour'd my foul in fong ; When on the margin of the murmuring ftream,- My fancy frequent form'd the golden dream Of Cynthia's grace — of Cynthia's fmiles divine, And made thofe fmiles and peerlefs beauty mine. It brings to mem'ry, too, thofe difmal times, When nought my fighs avail'd, and nought my rhimes ; When at the filent, folemn clofe of day. My penfive fteps would court the darkling grove, To hear in Philomela's lonely lay, The fainting echoes of my lucklefs love ; Till night's increafing fhades around me ftole, And mingled with the gloom that wrapp'd my foul. Reader — Do'ft chufe a fonnet of thofe days ? Take it — and fay not I'm a foe to Praise. ro CYNTHIA. O Thou ! whofe love-infpiring air Delights, yet gives a thoufand woes ; My day declines in dark defpair. And night hath loft her fweet repofe ; Yet [ 41 ] Yet who, alas ! like me was bleft, To others e'er thy charms were known ; When Fancy told my raptur'd breaft, That Cynthia fmil'd on me alone ? Nymph of my foul ! forgive my fighs : Forgive the jealous fires I feel ; Nor blame the trembling wretch, who dies When others to thy beauties kneel. Lo ! theirs is every winning art. With Fortune's gifts, unknown to 7ne ! I only boaft a fimple heart. In love with Innocence and The&. Build not, alas ! your popularity On that beaft's back yclep'd Vulgarity ; A beaft that many a booby takes a pride in, — A beaft beneath the noble Peter's riding. How fhould the man who loves to be wtchajle^ To feed on carrion dread his hound-like paunch, Judge of an Ortolan's delicious tafte. Or feel the flavour of a fine fat haunch ? Or, wont with bitter purl to wet his clay, How fhould he judge of Claret or Tokay ? M Tenters'^ [ 42 ] Teniers\ Devils, Witches, Monkeys, Toads, That make me fhudder whilft I pen thefe Odes, Moft truly pamted^ to be fure, you'll find : How greater far the excellence, to paint With heaven-direded eye, the beauteous Saint, And mark th' emotions of her angel-mind ? Envy notftich as have iii dirt furpaft ye ; — 'Tis very^ very eafy to be i^Asty ! ' ODE XVII. Ihe moralizijig Bard expofeth the unfairnefs of ma7ikind in the article of laughing — Defcajtteth upon Wit — Dif- claimeth pretenfo?i to it — Maketh love to Candour^ a?td modeftly concludeth. .OW dearly mortals love to laugh and grin ! Juft as they love to fluff themfelves to chin With other people's meat — good faving fenfe ! Becaufe at other folks' expence ; But turn the laugh on them — how chang'd their notes ! •* O damn 'em ! this is ferious — cut their throats I" Wit f 43 ] Wit, fays an author, that I do not know. Is like time's fcythe — cuts down both friend and foe; — Ready each objed:, tyger-like, to leap on ! " Lord ! what a butcher this fame wit ! thank God ! ** (A critic cries) in Mafter Pindar's Ode, " We fpy th' effect of no fuch da?igerous weapon^ No, Sir— 'tis dove-ey'd CANDOUR's charms I woo to thefe defiring arms ; She is my Goddess — to her fhrine I bend : NYMPH of the voice, that beats the morning lark, Sweet as the dulcet note of either Park *, Be thou my foft companion and my friend. Thy lovely hand my Pegafus fliall guide. And teach thy jnodeji pupil how to ride : Thus fhall I hurt not any groupe-compofers. From Sarah Benwell's brtiJJ:)^ to Mary Mozer's f. * Two brothers of the moft diltinguilhed merit on the Oboe. ■f- The laft of thofe Ladies, an R. A. by means of a. fublms picture of a plate of Gooseberries — the other in bopes of Academic honours, through an equal degree of merit. ODE [ 44 ] ODE XVIII. 'The judicious V^tex giveth mojl wholefojm Advice to Landfcape Painters, W HATE'ER your wifh, in Landfcape to excel, London's the very place to mar it ; Believe the oracles I tell, There's very little Landfcape in a Garret. Whate'er the flocks of Fleas you keep, 'Tis badly copying thetn for Goats and Sheep ; And if you'll take the Poet's honeft word, A Bug mufl: make a miferable Bird. A Riipo light winking in a bottle's neck, 111 reprefents the glorious Orb of Morn j Nay, though it were a candle with a ^ivich^ 'Twould be a reprefentative forlorn, I think, too, that a man would be a fool. For trees, to copy legs of a joint-ftool ; Or ev'n by thei7i to. reprefent 2ijlu7np : As alfo broomjlicks, — which though well he rig Each with an old fox-colour d wig, Muft make a very poor autumnal clump. You'll [ 45 ] You'll fay — Yet fuch ones^ olt a perfon Tecs In many an Artift's Trees ; And In fome Paintings,, we have all beheld ; Green Bays hath fiirely fat for a green Field ; Bolfters for Mountains, Hills, and whcaten Mows ; Cats for Ram-goats ; — and Curs, for Bulls, and Cows." All this, my Lads, I freely grant ;--• But better things from You, I want. As Shakespeare fays, (a Bard I much approve) «•« Lift, Uft, Oh I /^,"-^ifthoudoft Painting love,: Claude painted in the open airf- — Therefore, to Wales at once repair ; Where fcenes o{ true magnificence you'll -find : Befides this great advantage — if in debt, You'll have with creditors no tete-a-tete :: So leave the bull-dog Bailiffs all behind; Who, hujit you, with what noife they may^, . Mull hunt for needles in .a ftack of ha)\ . N ODE [ 46 3 ODE XIX. "The Poet h'mteth to Artijls the value of Ti?nc, JL HE Man condemned on Tyburn tree tofwing. Deems fucli a iliow, a very dullifi thing j He'd rather aSpECTAxoRbe, I ween, Than the fad Actor in the fcene. He blames the Law's too rigid refolution: If with a beef-fteak ftomach, — in his prime, Lord, with what revere?ice he looks on Time ! And, moft of all — the hour of execution ! And as the cart doth to the tree advance. How "wond'rous willing to po ftp one the Dance ! Believe me, Time's of monftrous ufe; But, ah ! how fubjed to abufe ! It feems that with him, folks were often cloyd\ I do pronounce it. Time's a public good. Tuft like a youthful Beauty — to be wood^ Made much of, and be froperly enjoy'd. Time's fand is wonderfully fmall : It flips between the fingers in a hurry ; Therefore, on each young Artift let me call. To prize it as an Indian does his Curry^ ; Whether his next rare Exhibition be Amidft the great R. A.'s, — or on a Tree. * An univerfal food in the Eaft Indies. ODE [ 47 ] ODE XX. 'The u7ifortU7iate Peter lamcnteth the lofs of an impo?'iant Ode by Rats — He prayeth devoutly for the Rats, JtllA'TUS maxhne defe7tdus ! I've loft an Ode of charming praife ; From like misfortune, Heav'n defend us ! The fweeteft of my Lyric Lays ! Where many a youthful Artift flione with fame. Like his own pidlures in a fine gilt frame. Perdition catch the roguifh rats I Their trembling limbs fhould fill the maws of cats. Were I to be their fole advifer : Vermin ! like trunk-makers and paftry-cooks. Dealing in legions of delightful books. Yet with the learnings not a whit the wifer. Thank G — d ! the Ode unto Myself they fparciy And, lo! the labour of the lucky Bard. ODE [ 43 ] ODE XXI. r^ M Y S E L F. "The exalted Peter nsipeth to make the gaping- world acqtta'hit- ed with the place of his nativity \ — but before he can get an ■anfwer froin himfelf, he mojl {vh\\mt\y.burj}eth forth into an addrefs to Mennygizzy and Moufehole, two ffiing towns in Cornwall— the f7f celebrated for Pilchards, thelaftfor giving birth to Dolly P entreat^ — Tlje Poet praifeth the Honourable Daines Barrtngton^ and Pilchards— For get--- teth the place of his nativity^ and^ like his great ancefor (9/' Thebes, leavetb his readers in the dark. THOU ! whofe daring works rnblime Defy the rudeft rage of Time, Say !— for the world is with conjedlure dizzy, Did Moufehole give thee birth or Mennygizzy ? HAIL Mennygizzy ! what a town of note ! Where boats, and men, and ftinks, and trade are flirring; Where pilchards come in myriads to be caught.; Pilchard ! a thonfand times as good 's a herring. Pilchard 1 C 49 ] a Pilchard ! the idol of the Popifli nation ! Hail little inrcrument of vail falvation ! Pilcliard, I ween, a mofl: foul-faving filli, On which the Catliolics in Lent are crammd ;■ . . Who, had they not, poor fouls, this lucky difh, W Q\\\d. JJeJJj eat, and be confequently damji'd. Pilchards ! whofe bodies yield the fragrant oil. And make the London lamps at midnight fmile ; Which lamps, wide fprcading falutar)"- light. Beam an the wandering BEAUTIES of the night, And fhow each gentle youth their cheek's deep rofes, And tell him whether they have eyes and nofes. Hail Moufehole ! birth place of old Doll Pentreath *, The laji who jabber'd Cornifh — fo fays Daines, Who, bat-like, haunted ruins, lane, and heath. With Will o' Wifp, to brighten up his brains. * A very old woman of Moufehole, fuppofed (falfely however) to have been the laft who f|X)ke the Cornifh language. The honourable Aniiquarlan, Daines Barrington, Efq. journied, fome years fince, from London to the Land's-end, to converfe with this wrinkled, yet delicious morceau. He entered Moufehole in a kind of triumph,- and peeping into her hut, exclaimed, with all the fire of an enraptur'd Lover, in the language of the famous Greek Philofoper, — " eureka!" The couple kiffed — Doll foon after gabbled — Daines liftened •with admiration — committed her fpeeches to paper, not venturing to truft his memory with/o much treafure. The tranfaftion was announced to the Society-^ the Journals were enriched with their dialogues — the old Lady's picture was ordered to be taken by the mofl; eminent Artift, and the honourable Member to be publicly thanked for the Discovery ! ' O Daines ! [ 50 ] Daines ! who a thoiifand miles, unwearied trots For bones, brafs farthings, aflies and old pots, To prove that folks of old, like iis^ were made "With heads, eyes, hands, and toes, to drive a trade. ODE XXII. Peter concludeth his Odes — Seemeth hungry — -ExpoJIulateth with the Reader — And getteth the Jlart of the Worlds by jirjl praifmg his own Works. X O M Southern to John Dryden went one day, To buy a head and tail piece for his Play : " Thomas," quoth John, " I'v^e fold my goods too cheapo " So, if you pleafe, my price fhall take a leap'"' O Reader, look me gravely in the face ; Speak, is not that with me and thee the cafe ? For this Years Odes I charge thee half a crown ; So, without grumbling, put thy money down : For things are defperately ris'n, good Lord ! Fifh, fleih, coals, candles, window lights, and board Why fliould not charming Poetry then rife ? That comes fo dev'liih far too — from x}iQjkies ! And lo ! the verfes that adorn this page^ Beam, comet like, alas ! but once an age.. FINIS. The fcJloivms POEMS, wrlften hy PETER PINDJR, E may be had of G. Kearsley, at N'o. 46, in Fleet Street. LYRIC ODES, for the Years 1782, 1783, 1785, and 1786; with Additions; addrefled to the ROYAL ACADEMICIANS. (New Editions.) Price 8s. %* Each may be had feparate. The LOUSL-\D, an Heroic-comic Poem ; Canto II. Price 2s. 6d. (A New Edition, with conliderable Additions.) A Poetical and Congratulatoiy EPISTLE to JAMES BOSWELL Efq., on his Tour to the Hebrides with the celebrated Dr. Johnson (A New Edition.) Price 2S. BOZZY and PIOZZI ; or. The British Biographers; a Town Eclogue. (The Fifth Edition.) Price 33. ODE UPON ODE. (A New Edition.) Price 3s. An APOLOGETIC POSTSCRIPT to ODE UPON ODE. A New Edition. Price is. 6d. A Poetical, Supplicating, Modest, and Affecting Epistle to thofe Literary Collossuses, the REVIEWERS. Price is. {A New Edition,) INSTRUCTIONS to a Celebrated LAUREAT, alias the PRO- GRESS of CURIOSITY, alias a BIRTH-DAY ODE, alias Mr. WHlTBREAD's BREWHOUSE. Price as. 6d. Shortly ivJll be publijljed. The THIRD CANTO of the LOUSIAD ; with an Engraving by an eminent Artifl. SIR JOSEPH BANKS ^■ AND The emperor of MOROCCO. [Piice ONE SHILLING and SIXPENCE.] ENTERED AT STATIONERS' II A 1. h. The argument. PETER the GREAT fghteth the Prefident's Battle— proclahnelh fome of the Prejldeni's Powers — viz, his perfevering Tooth-and-nail Powers — bis Stomach Powers — his Face Powers — his Hammer Powers, triumph' ing over the Powers o/'Morplieus, and tke his courageous Powers, VelGX beginneth the Tale — Sir Jofeph proceedcth to hunt — but firjl ejaculateth — The Virtuojos Prayer — ^/V'jofephV InJeSl Enthitfiafm induceth him, contrary to his general Piety, to pray wickedly, by felfi/l:ly wifhing to gratify his own Dejires at the Expence of the Farmers — Sir Jofeph '^r^'- eth for Pharaoh'j Flics — condemneth PharaohV Tajle — maketh Interefl for Showers of Flies, infead of ^lails — prayethfor Monfers, and pro- mifeth them the Honour of his Kamc Sir Jofeph, in a Pointer-like Manner, ambulateth—he efpieth the Emperor 0/ Morocco — Peter conjcBureth as to Sir Jofeph'j Jo^^ on the Occafton—' compareth Sir Joicph'i foy zvith that experienced by Archimedes, Hare- hunters, outrageoiijly-virtitous old Maids, the little Duke c/'Plccadillv, a Pimp, Mother Windfor'j- Virgins, and Mjlher Windfor herfelf — Sir Jofeph'i Purfuit — the Prefdent tumhleth, in Imitation of Mr. Eden — a beautiful Comparifon between Sir Jofeph and Taaierlaiic, a But- terfy, and Bajazct — Sir Jofeph again^ tumbletb — ^'/> Jofcph'j- Hat tumbleth with him — 6/r Jofeph rife th and blow eth — he is gazed at by a Countryman — he darteth through a Hedge in Purfuit of the Emperor, and tumbleth into a Fane — he getteth up fpeedily, and puttcth a Siuefiion to Hob — WoXi anfwcr eth 710 1, but pitieth him — Sir '^ok^Ai obtaineth afecond B- Fiexv The argument. rieiv of be Emperor — purfueth his Majefly into a Garden — cverfet- tetb the GarJSner — trampleth en rare flowers — brciiketh many Bell Glajfe^ ^—overturneth the Scarecrow — Peter praifeth the Scarecrow — Sir Jo- feph overfetieth a hive of Bees — The Bees fur prized — they attempt a Revenge^ but fucceed not, on Account of the hard and tough Materials of Sir Jofeph'j Headpiece— ^The Gardener, quitting his horizontal Poftion, purfueth Sir Jofeph— 5/V Jofeph purfueth the Rmperor, and the Empe- ror flieth away — 'The Gardener collar eth Sir Jofeph, and expoflidateth — Sir Jofeph heedcth not the Gardener s Complaint, being in deep SorTotv for the Lofs of the Emperor — The Gardener quitteth his Gripe in Sir Jofeph, and putteth him down for a Lunatic — the Gardener execfateth Sir Jofeph'j Keeper^ and falleth into a Panic — flieth off unceremonioufly^ and leaveth the Prefident in the Situation of a celebrated Prophet. PROEMIUM iJra'iiia I "^^ ■ MhJMa^MaWMiM&JMW— oeiUih«>»^»»Ji P R O E M I U M. PETRUS L ^U I r U R. O^INCE members loft to manners, growl ; Call poor Sir Jofeph afs, and owl ; Nay, oft with ooarfer epithets revile ; Though pitying much his pigmy merit, Let me difplay a Chriftian fpirit, And try to lift a lame dog o'er a ftyle. Though not, like Erfkine, in the law a giant, I muft take up the cudgels for my client. Know hy thefe prefents^ then, ye noify crew, Who at his blufhing honours* look fo blue, * Blujlnng honours — the author undoubtedly means the epithet blujl/ing to be underflood as fynonymous with blooming, and not in a fatyrical (ewdi : God forbid that the friend of Sir Jofeph fliould mean otherwife! That L s ] That though Sir Jofeph is not deep-difcermngs, And though, as all the world well knows, A nutfhell might with perfect eafe enclofe Three quarters of his fenfe, and all his learning 5, Whofe modeft wifdoni, therefore, never aims To: find the longitude, or burn the Thames j, Yet, as to things he fets himfelf about. With tooth and nail, like Hercules^ fo flout. He labours for his wifli, no matter what ; — - I can't fay that Sir Jofeph lions kills j Hugs giants, or the blood of hydras fpills y But then moft manfullv he eats a bat, Eats toads, or tough, or tender, old,, or youngs As in the fwcetcft ftrains the Mufe hath fung : * Fit with the hugeft Hottentot to cope, Who dines on raw flefli at the Cape of Hope.. •It- See Peter's Prophecy, Blefl [ 9 ] Bleft with a phiz, he bids the Members tremble ! To dcathhke iilence turns the direft din ; And vvliere fo many favages aflemble, Like hounds they want a proper Whipper-in. Dare members fleep*, a fet of fnoring Goths, Whilft Blagden reads a chapter upon moths ? Down goes the hammer, cloath'd with thunder ! Up fpring the Snorers, half without their wigs ; Old Graybeards grave, and fmock-fac'd Prigs, With ell-wide jaws difplaying figns of wonden Lo ! pcrfeverance is the foul of adion! And courage proper to oppofe a fadion ; Therefore he fits with wonderful propriety. The MoKRo of a mad Society : And that he is both brave and pcrfevering, Witnefs the following ftory, well worth hearing. * Frequently, Indeed, are the Members fent to the land of Ihxidows by tlie Society's fomnlferous papers ; aififted in a great me.ifare i[) tlieir voyage by the Doftor's drouTv manner of comnninicatin^ tlic contents^ ■www mww iiw m i j [ >' m % SIR JOSEPH BANKS A N D The emperor of MOROCCO. A PRESIDENT, in butterflies profound. Of whom all Infed;mongers fing the praifes, Went on a day to ca-tch this game renown'd, On vi'lets, dunghills, nettletops, and daifles ! But flrft (fo pious is Sir Jofeph's nature) He thus addrefs'd the butterfly's Creator. The [ 12 ] The V 1 R T U O S O 's PRAYER. O THOU whofe wifdom plannM the fkies. And form'd the wings of butterflies. Attend my humble pray'r ! Like Egypt, as in days of yore, Let earth with flies be cover 'd o'er,. And darken'd all the air. This, Lord, wou'd be the befl; of news — - Then might thy fervant pick and chufe From fuch a glorious heap : Forth to the world Td boldly rufli, Put all Mufoiums to the blufli. And hold them all dog cheap. Pharaoh had not one grain of tafte The flies on h'wi were thrown to wafl:e, Nay, [ ^3 3 Nay, met with ftrong objedion ; But had thy feivant, Lord, been there, I fliould have made, or much I err, A wonderful collection ! O Lord ! if not my mem'ry fails, Thou once didft rain on people quails——^ Again the world furprize ; And 'ftead of fuch a trifling bird, Rain on thy fervant Jofeph, Lord, Show'rs of rare butterflie« ! Since monfters are my great delight, With monfters charm thy fervant' s fight. Turn feathers into hair : Make legs where legs were never feen, And eyes, no bigger than a pin, As broad as faucers ftarc. D The [ ^4 ] The reptiles that are born with claws, O ! let thy pow'r fupply with paws. Adorn 'd with human nails ; In value more to make them rife, Tranfplant from all their heads, their eyes. And place them in their tails. And if thou wifely wouldft contrive To make me butterflies alive;. To fly without a head ; To fkim the hedges and the fields,. Nay, eat the meat thy bounty yields j, Such wonders were indeed ! Blagden fliould puft' them at our Meeting ;: Members, would prefs around mje greeting,;. The Journals fv/ell with thanks ;, And more to magnify their fLijnc, Thofe headlefs flies fliould have a name My name Sir Jofeph Banks !. " ■SMi THUS [ ^5 ] THUS having finifh'd, forth Sir Jofcph hies, Hope in his heart, and eagles in his eyes ! Juft like a pointer, qiiart'ring well his ground. He nimbly trots the field around L At length, to blefs his hunting ambulation. Up rofe a Native of the flutt'ring nation. Broad flared Sir Jofeph as if flruck by thunder ; (For much, indeed, are eyes enlarged by wonder,} V/hen. from a dab of dung, or fame fuch th'mg^ An Emp'ror of Morocco rear'd his wing ! Not Archimedes, '^tis my firm belief. More bleft, cried " Eureka, iVe nabb'd the thief j"^ Nor hunters, when a hare, to jfhun foul play. Steals from his feat fo fiy, cry " Stoic away;" Nor ftale old nymphs, by raging virtue fway'd, Roar on a Frail one, *' Kill the wicked jade ;" Than roar'd Sir Jofeph on the verdant fod, " Morocco's Emp'ror, by the living God ! " Not [ ^6 3 Not with more joy, nor rapture-fpeaking look, The Httlc gamcfome Piccadilly Duke Eyes a nice Tit, frefli launch'd upon the town ; Nor with more pleafure Cupid's trufty crimp, By mouths of vulgar people nam'd a pimp, Stares on 'his virtuous fee, a crown ; Nor King's-Place nymphs, on Greenhorns in their pow'r ; Who (fliamelefs rafcals, wanting not a wife,) Hire love, like hackney coaches, by the hour, Damning the love fo true that lafts for life ; Nor wither'd Windsor on the {imple Maid, From fcenes of rural innocence betray'd ; Forc'd to difpofe of Nature's fweeteft charms; Doom'd for a meal to fink a beauteous wreck ; To lend to man fhe loathes, her lip, her neck, And, weeping, act the wanton in his arms; Than did the Hero of my fong. Survey the Emp'ror as he mov'd along. Lightly [ ^7 ] Not with more glee a hen-peck'd hufband ipics Death lliutting up his wife's two cat-like eyes, Accuftom'd on him oft and fierce to roll ; Juft like a galley (lave, poor fellow, treated, Or thofe poor Englifh at Calcutta fweated ; StufF'd in the old Black Hole : And yet, a neater fimile to ufe. Not with more true delight a lover views The blufliing orient leading on the day That gives a blooming partner to his arms. In virtues rich, and rich in youthful charms, To bid the hours with rapture glide away : Sad anxious fwain, who now in bed, now out, Tofs'd like the fea with thundering thoughts about ; Curfing with hearty pray'rs the lingering night ; Now trying hard to fleep away the time ; Now ftaring on the dark, like bards for rhyme, To catch the fmalleft ghmpfe of light. E ' Afraid [ iS J Afraid that Phoebus means foul plaj, And, bent to fpite him, lie a-bed all day : And, bond Jide, not of rapture fuller, Thurlow, the Seal and Royal Confcience keeper, Sees his prime fav'rite, Mr. Juftice Buller, High thron'd in Chancery, grieve the poor Sir Pepper^ Than did the Preiident fo keen efpy The butterfly ! Lightly with winnowing wing amid the land, His Moorifh Majefty in circles flew ! With fturdy ftriding legs and outftretch'd hand. The Virtuofo did his prey purfue. He ftrikes — he miffes — ftrikes again — he grins, And fees in thought the monarch fix'd with pins ; Sees him on paper giving up the ghoft, Nail'd Hke a hawk or martyr to a poft. Oft [ ^9 ] Oft fell Sir Jofeph on the flipp'ry plain, Like patriot Eden — fell to rife again ; The Emp'ror fmiling, fported on before ; Like Phcebus courling Daphne was the chace, But not fo was the meaning of the race, Sir Jofeph ran to kill, not kifs the Moor ; To hold him pris'ner in a glafs for fhow, Like Tamerlane, (redoubtable his rage) Who kept poor Bajazet, his vanquifh'd foe, Juft like an owl or magpye in a cage. Again to earth Sir Jofeph fell fo flat, Flat as the flatteft of the flounder race ! Down with Sir Jofeph dropp'd his three-cock'd hat^ Mofl: nobly fharing in his friend's difgrace. Again he fprings, with hope and ardour pale. And blowing like the fifli baptiz'd a whale ; Darting C 20 3 Darting his arms now here, now there, fo wild. With all the eager raptures of a child, Who with broad anxious eye a bauble views, And, capering legs and hands, the toy purfues. A Countryman, who, from a lane, Had mark'd Sir Jofeph, running, tumbling, fweating, Stretching his hands and arms, like one infane, And with thofe arms the air around him beating, To no particular opinion leaning, Of fuch manoeuvring could not guefs the meaning. At length the Prefident, all foam and muck, Quite out of breath, and out of luck, Purfued the flying monarch to the place. Where flood this Countryman, with marv'ling face. Now through the hedge, exadly like a horfe, Wild plung'd the Prefident with all his force, His [ *^ J His brow in fvveat, his foul in perturbation ; Mindlefs of trees, and bufhes, and the brambles, Head over heels into the lane he fcrambles, Where Hob flood loft in wide-mouth'd fpeculationl ** Speak," roar'd the Prefident, '' this inftant — fa)r, ** Haft feen, haft feen, my lad, this way ** The Emp'ror of Morocco pafs ?" Hob to the infedl-hunter nought replied, * But fhook his head, and fympathizing figh'd, *« Alas I " Poor gentleman, I'm forry for ye ; " And pity much your upper ft ory /"*' Lo ! down the lane alert the Emp'ror flew, And ftruck once more Sir Jofeph's hawk-like view j And now he mounted o'er a garden wall ! In rufh'd Sir Jofeph at the garden door, Knock'd down the Gard'ner — what could man do more, And left him as he chofe to rife or fprawl. F O'er [ 2^ ] O'er pcerlefs hyacinths our Hero rudi'd ; ' Throiigh tulips and anemonies he pufh'd, Breaking a hundred necks at ev'ry fpring : On bright carnations, blufliing on their banks, With defp'rate hoof he trod, and mow'd down ranks, Such vail ambition urg'd to feize the king ! Bell glaffes, all fo thick, were tumbled o'er, And lo ! the cries, fo fhrill, of many a fcore, A fad and fatal ftroke proclaim'd ; The Scarecrow all fo red, was overturn'd ; His vaniOi'd hat, and wig, and head, he mourn'd. And much, indeed, the man of ftraw was maim'd ! Juft Guardian of the facred fpot, Wi:\ face fo fierce, and pointed gun. Who threat' ned all the birds with fhot ; To kill of fparrows cv'ry mother's fon : 4 Fierce [ =^3 3 Fierce as thofe fcarlet minifters of fate, The warlike guardians of St. James's gate ! Yet not content with feats like thefe. He tumbled o'er a hive of bees ; Out rufh'd the hoft, and wonder'd from their fouls, What dev'l dar'd dafli their houfe about their polls. Like Louis *, whofe fierce heart was fuch. As made him like a football kick the Dutch ! But foon the fmall, heroic, injur'd nation Defer ied the author of their obligation ; And, to repay it, round him rufh'd the fwarm ', Prodigious was the buz about his ears ! With all their venom did they pufli their fpears, But lo ! they work'd him not one grain of harm ! * Louis XIV. Yet [ 24 ] Yet did no God nor Codling intervene, By way of fcreen ! The happy head their pointed fpears defied, Strong, like old Homer's fhields, in tough bull hide, And brafs well temper'd, to fupport the fhock. 1 The bees their difappointcd vengeance mournM, And from their fierce attack, fatigu'd, return'd„ Believing they had ftorm'd a barber's block« What was thought death and tortures by the clan, Was only tickling the great Man ! Thus round big Ajax rag'd the Trojan hoft. Who might as well, indeed, have drubb'd a poft. The Gardner now for juft revenge up fprung, O'ervvhelm'd with wonderment and dungj And [ 25 ] And fiercely in his turn purfu'd the Knight ! From bed to bed, full tilt tlie champions rac'd, This chac'd the Knight, the Knight the Emp'ror chac'd, Who fcal'd the walls, alas ! and vanifli'd out of fight ; To find the Emprcfs, p'rhaps, and tell her Grace The merry hiftVy of the chacc. At length the Gard'ner, fwell'd with rage and dolour, O'ertaking, grafps Sir Jofeph by the collar. And bleft with fav'rite oaths, abundance fhow'rs ; *' Villain," he cried, " beyond example ! *' Juft like acart-horfe on my beds to trample, " More than your foul is worth, to kill my ilow'rs ! " See how your tvv^o vile hoofs havT made a wreck " Look, rafcal, at each Beauty's broken neck !" Mindlefs of humbled flow'rs, fo freely kill'd, Although fuperior to his foul declar'd, And vegetable blood profufcly fpill'd, Superior^ too, to all reward ; G Mindlefs [ 26 ] Mindlefs of all the Gard'ner's plaintive ftraiiis, The Emp'ror's form monopoliz'd his brains. At length he fpoke, in fad defpairing tones, " Gone ! bv the God that made me ! — D-mn his bones ! *' O Lord ! no difappointment mine furpaffes ; *' Poll ! what are paltry flowers and broken glafles, " A tumbled Scarecrow, bees, the idle whim ? " Zounds ! what a fet of mifcreants to him ! " Gone is my fold's defiire, for ever gone ! "- *' Who's gone?" the Gard'ner ftraight replied- '* The Emp'ror, Sir," with tears. Sir Jofeph, cried- *' The Emp'ror of Morocco thought my own ! ' ' To unknown fields behold the Monarch fly ! " Zounds ! not to catch him, what an afs was I ! " His eyes the Gard'ner, full of horror, ftretch'd. And then a groan, a monftrous groan, he fetch'd. Contemplating [ 27 ] Contemplating around his ruin'd wares ; And nov/ he let Sir Jofeph's collar go ; And now he bray'd aloud with bittereft woe, " Mad, madder than the maddeft of March hares I '* A p-x confound the fellow's Bedlam rigs ! " Oh ! he hath done the work of fifty pigs ! " The Devil take his Keeper, a damn'd goofe, " For letting his wild Beaft get loofe 1" But now the Gard'ner, terrified, began To think himfelf too near a man In fo Peg-Nicholfon a fituation ; And happy from a madman to efcape, He left him without bow, or nod, or fcrape, Like Jeremiah midfi: his Lamentation. Such is the tale if readers figh for more, Sir Jofeph's wallet holdeth many a fcore. THE END. A LIST OF PETER PINDAR'S WORKS, Any of which may be had of G. KEARSLEY, No. 46, Fleet Street, 1. A Supplicathig EPISTLE to die REVIE\\TRS, — 010 2. LYRIC ODES to the Royal Academicians, for 1782, 020 3. — 1783, o I 6 4. -— . 1785, 026 5. FAREWELL ODES —• 1786, 030 6. The LOUSL^D, Canto L — -- — — 026 -., — — Canto II. — — — — 026 8. Congratulatory EPISTLE to JAMES BOSWELL —020 9. BOZZY and PIOZZI, a TOWN ECLOGUE — — 030 10. ODE upon ODE, or a PEEP at St. JAMES'S — _ o 3 o 11. An APOLOGETIC POSTCRIPT to ODE upon ODE 020 12. INSTRUCTIONS to a certain POET LAUREAT — 026 15. BROTHER PETER to BROTHER TOM — —030 14. PETER'S PENSION, a folemn EPISTLE — —030 15. PETER'S PROPHECY — — —030 16. SIR J. BANKS and the EMPEROR of MOROCCO o 1 6 ^. I 18 o •PETER'S PROPHECY O R, Tjhe president and POET^; I f r.ce T H R i: R S H I I- L I N G S. ]• ENTERED AT STATIONERS' HALL., PETER'S PROPHECY. O R, The president and POET. -. OR, An important EPISTLE to SIR J. BANKS, O N T H E APPROACHING ELECTION O F A PRESIDENT OF the ROYAL SOCIETY. "With an ETCHING by an Eminent Artist. By PETER PINDAR, E s qj; i r e. SECOND EDITION. Tros, Rutilufve fuat, nullo difcrimine hafaebo. Virgil. Rank is a Farce- — if People Fools will be, A Scavenger and King's the lame to me. La Societe Royalc de Londres fut formee en 1660, fix Ans avant notre Academic des Sciences. Elle n'a point dc Recompences comme la notre ; mais auffi el!e eft libre. Point de ces Diflinftions dcfagrcables, inventees par 1' Abbe Bignon, qui diftribua 1' Acadcmie des Sciences en fcmam qu'on payait, et en honoraires qui n'etoieut pas favans. La Societe de Londres independante, et n'ctant encourngee que par cUc meme, a ete compofce de Sujcts qui ont trouve le Calcul de I'Infini, les Lois de la Lumiire, celles de Pcfanteur, I'Aberration des Etoiles, le Tclefcope de Reflexion, la P mpe a feu, le Microfcope folairr, et bcaucoup d' autrcs Inventions aufli utiles qu'admirables. Qj' auroicnt fait d: plus ces Gra.nds Hommes s'ils aroienc etc Penfionnaires ou Honoraires ? Voltaire, fur 1» Societe Royalfo L O N D O N: Punted for G. KEARSLEY, at Johnson's Head, No. 46, Fleet Street. M.DCC.LXXXVIi;. The PROPRIETORS of the Works of PETER PINDAR, Efquire, Find themfelves obliged, on account of the frequent Piracies of his Produ6lions, to offer TWENTY GUINEAS Reward, On the Convidlion of any Offender ; The Money to be immediately paid by the Publifher, Mr. Kearsley, in Fleet Street; or Mr. Cooper, Printer, Bow Street, Covent Garden ; and the Name or Names of the communicating Party concealed. TftE ARGUMENT. A SUBLIME and poetical Exordium, in iivhich the Bard applaiideth him- Jelf, condemneth his Sovereign, and condefcendeih to inJiruB Sir Jofeph Banks, F.R.S. — Anecdote of '^wXxw^ Ca^Hir and a Conjuror — Peter dwelleth zvith much Jolemnity on the gloomy Month of November, and com- pareth Sir Jofeph Banks to Jupiter and Mr. Squib — Afeth prc-jcd queftions — Sir ^o{t^\\ comprehendcth their fage Meaning, and ficth into a Pnffion, and boafleth 'how he revengeth himfcf on the Fun the IVor Id enjoy - eth at his Expence — Sir Jofeph atiimadvertcth tvijely en a Fall from the Prejidency to the State of a fimple Ft'/Zow, obliquely and tiobly hinting at a few Traits of his ozvn CharaBer — Peter replieth with good Advice, exhi- biting at the fame Time acute Knowledge of the fexual Syflem in botanical Affairs — Sir Jofeph rcfufeth Peter'j Counfel — Peter mentioneth Men of Science, whom Sir Jofeph fcorneth — Sir Jofeph Ictteth the Cat out of the Bag, and foeweth Principles inimical to the Caufe of true Philofophy, by wi/lmg to make great Men Fellows, infead of \v\(q men — Peter moralifeth •with profundity, mid flappeth the Bugs of Fortune for daring, on Account of their Mammon, to place themfelves on a Level with Genius — 5/r Jofeph maketh fnore Difcovery of his Dijpojition, by abufng Painting, Poetry, and Mific, andwifcth to tread in the Steps of his Sovereign — Peter ilhi/irateth the Prefdenfs Mode of catching at an Argument, by a beautiful Spider Simile — Sir Jofeph boafeth of his Tea and Toafi Weapons — Peter ani- madverteth with his ufual Wifdom on the miraculous Pozvers of Meat, when applied to a hungry Stomach — Sir Jofeph fndeth out a new Road io the Heart — Boafeth of royal Favour — VtXcx fmileth at it, and fright- neth Sir Jofeph — Sir Jofeph enquireth the IVorld^s Opinion of himfelf—- Peter The argument. P=.er^A../i,> without Cere:,,^-S. JofepI, c.rfi,b-Vc,,, ^ , ./.»<.» ^. ^.,,, Acjuaktance wah FcgeMks and Monkks-Vct« acnukC- ccb .nj,. Monkey mfl.,,., tu, JeA.bHs Mponance, and ,urne,h BuueL W.>.«^. AW. ./,. „■;„„„, Ha„.l.o„-*. Jofeph «™,«, -ictcv ,crMefce,b, l„fi,ne Me.fire, o„ ,h, Medn of itfr. Herfchd .nJtroph.fn, .,ore Dlfco^eries ty Ms Mrono,n.r .ianjruci .be I, J. S,na.on ofS,r Z.k,\.-V.,.r frapbefie.b of , be future Gruudeur of CM. ^"-„, 3^ „„,„, of A-m ,0 fuppfy :be greut Flu. of Peop,e uM ^■r Jofeph ugu,. ,r,un.tbet,^V..„ cu.U.b bi,n do... for bis lL on bis Iur.r^ges-Sir i„k,t, piu.e.b bi„fef ou Dr. Bl.gde„-Paer^,v,^.,/. Dr. Bl,gde„-&> JofepI, p,,;j,„^ sir Be„j.„„;„ Thcmpfo,,, iW M„|. i'>^'-,a„d,beu„.Ju„u„s^uuter Dr. Le.fo.ne; »«.„„. ;,..^.,/, ,;., Doaor s Hotiy Horfe, Mangel Wo,,-,), alius Wur,z,el_i;V Joftph «W. .«^ ,U Mcri.s of Mr. Aubcre, ,fe Silk,nun-Yc... f„i,e,b, und uufjre.b ivittily The argument. ■Wittily — Sir Jofeph enquiretb about Mr. TDaines Barrnigton — Peter an- fwereth in like Manner — Sir Jofeph's Le boilcth over — Peter laughcth — Peter cometh to the Point., and telleth the Prejtdent in plain Terms that he tnujl depend on the many, more than one, meaning cur mojl gracious King — i"/? Jofeph exclaimeth with his. ufual Fulgariiy, and taxeth the revolting Members tvith Ingratitude, and Jiieth to Meat and Drink for his future Supporters — Peter praifeth Meat and Drink, yet infifteth on the 'Truth of an intended Rebellion — Sir Jofeph, in a Strain of Defpondency, looketh to the Lord for Support — Peter giveth him no Hopes from that garter — Sir Joleph, /'/; a Tyger-Uke Manner, breaketh out into Rage and Boa/ling — Peter acknowledgeth his Merits, but informeth the Pref dent of their Infufficiency — Sir Jofeph voweth to play the Devil — Peter exaheth Sir Jofeph'f intended Mameuvre by a Campari foti of a Miracle frequently •worked in Popifo Countries on Rats and GraJJjoppers — Vetcr fill harpeth on the old String of fomething more — Sir Jofeph adduceth more Infances ef Meritf fuch as eating Matters that would make a Hottentot vomit — Peter acknowledgeth Sir Jofeph'^f uncommon Stomach-Powers and Tri- umphs over Reptiles ; but with Obf.inacy inffeth upon it that fomething more muf be atchieved — The Pref dent upon this, moji wickedly, yet mofl heroically, declareth, that he will then fwallow an Alligator — Peter dif- fuadeth Sir Jofeph, like a Friend, from ^is bold Intent/on, and recommend- eth a Meal of a milder ^ality. PETER'S ■POMM^WMV^WeW PETER'S PROPHECY; O R, The president and POET. ir-r^ X HE Bard who fill'd with Frkndiliip's pureft fire, Tun'd to a mighty King the moral lyre ; With all the magic of the Mufe's art, Smil'd at his foibles and enlarg'd * his heart * Verily the Lyric Bard hath caufe of triumpli — hy means of a few I.:->ifs, the clofe fift of Royal Economy hath been a Httle unclenched. By God's grace, and the Poet's good health, greater things are likely to be accomplifhed, fuch is the power of fotig! B Unerateful [-6- ] Ungrateful Prince 1 like moft of modern trmes, Who never thank'd the Poet for his rhymes : The Bard with wifdom's voice fublimely ftrong^ Who fcar'd the maids of honour with his fong, Turn'd courtiers pale, and turnM to lilent wonder; Ambaffadors, at Truth's deep tone of thunder;. Who in their country, (fuch a timid, thing !) Was never known to whifper to. a king : The Bari> who dar'd undaunted thus to tow'tj, And' boldly oracles to princes pour, Stoops from the zenith of his eagle flight To give inftrudion to. a funplc Knight. To C^SAR, who til advice with fcorn repaid^., " Beware the Ides of March^'' a Conj'ror faid. More rev'renc'd X^tTn greater Conj'ror fay, " Beware, Sir Joseph. Banks, St. A?idrew''s DayJ'.' Near is the gloomy month, and. gloomy hour, When of your plumage ftripp'd, and fav'rite pow'r, You »5 - I 7 J You quit that mace and pompous chair of ftatc, And ceafe Lord Paramount of Moth debate, That awe-infpirlng hammer'd fiil to rear, Like fcepter'd Jove, and Squib the AucTIO^-EER ! S I R J O S E P H. Well ! what's Novembers * gloomy month or hour ? The day which ravilhes, reftores my pow'r. PETER. Perchance Ambition may be doom'd to mourn ! Perchance your honours may no more return I Think what a hoft of enemies you make ! What feeling mind would be a Bull at flake? Pinch'd by this mongrel, by that mafliff torn :: Who'd make a feaft to treat the public fcorn ?; * On the thirtieth of November the P.refideiu is annually elected.. Wiio'd: C 8 1 Who'd be a Bear that grafps his club with pride With which his Dancing Majler drubs his hide ? None, dear Sir Joseph, but the arrant'ft fool Turns butt to catch the fhafts of ridicule. SIR JOSEPH. Your meaning, friend, I eafily divine 1 PETER, Yes, quit for life the chair refign, refign. SIR JOSEPH. No ! with contempt the grinning world I fee. And always laugh at thofe who laugh at me. PETER. To fteal a point then, may I never thrive But you muft be the merriejl man alive. SIR JOSEPH. Good ! but, my friend, 'twould be a black November, To lofe the chair, and fneak a vulgar member ; Sit [ 9 J Sit on a bench muincha?2ce without my hat *, Sunk from a Lion to a tame Tom Cat : Juft like a Schoolboy trembling o'er his book, Afraid to move, or fpeak., or tiiink, or look, When Mr. Prefidcjit, with maftiff air, Vouchfafes to grumble " Silence" from the chair. PETER. All this is mortifying to be fure, And more than flefh and blood can well endure ! Then to your turnip fields in peace retire : Return like Cincinnatus, country fquire: Go with your wifdom, and amaze the Boors With appletree, and flirub, and flow'r amours ; And tell them all, with wide-mouth' d wonder big, How gnats -f- can make a cuckold of a fig. * The Prefident always wears his hat. t -See the Natural Hiflorj of the Fig. Q Form [ 10 ] Form fly clubs, fliell clubsj weed clubs, if you pleafe. And proudly reign the Pe.esident o{ theje : Go, and with periwinkle wifdom chami ; With loves of lobfterSj oyfters, crabs, alarm; And tell them how like ours^ the females woo'd. By killing, people all the realms of mud : Thus, tho' proud London dares refufe you fame, The Towns of Lincolnshire {hall raife your name, Knock down the bear, and bull, and calf, and king,. And bid Sir Joseph on their fignpofls fwing. SIR JOSEPH. No ! flnce Tv^e fairly mounted Fortune's maft, Till Fate fhall chop my hands off, Fll hold faft.. PETE R. And yet. Sir Jofeph, fame reports you ftole To Fortune's topmaft through the lubherhoh^. * A part of the fhip well-known to feamen. Think. [ " ] Think of the men, whom Science fo reveres ! HoRSLEY, and Wilson, Maskelyne, Maseres, Landen, and Hornsby, Atwood, Glenie, Hutton,- S I R JOSEPH. Blockheads ! for whom I do not care a button \ Fools, who to fnathe77iatics would confine us, And bother all our ears with plus and m'mus.. PETER. No more they fearch the philofophic mine, To bid the journals with their labours fhine, And yield a glorious fplendor to the page, Such as when Newton, Halley grac'd the age ! Retir'd, thofe members now behold with fighs The dome, like Egypt, fwarm with frogs and flies j And you^ the Pharaoh too without remorfe, The ftubborn parent of the reptile curfej See [ 12 J See Wifdom yield to Folly's rude control ; Jove's eagle murder'd by a moufing owl *. SIR JOSEPH. Poh ! poll ! my friend, I've ftargazers enough^ I now look round for diff 'rent kind of fluff : Befides — imlitled members are mere fwine ; I wifh for princes -on my lift to fhine ; I'll have a company of ftars and ftrings j I'll have a proud fociety of kings ! I'll have no miferable fqueal tomtit, Whilft Fortune offers pheafants to my fpit 1 For me, the Dev'l may take a namelefs fry • No fprats, no fprats, whilft whales can feaft my eye. PETER. Thus on a ftall, amidft a country fair, Old Women fhow of gingerbread their ware ! * Vide Shakefpeare. King 1. u 1 King David and Queen Bethsheba behold, Strut from their dough majeftic, grac'd with gold ! King Solomon fo great in all his glory, The Queen of Sheba too, renown'd in ftory ! The Grannies thefe difplay with doting eyes ; Delighted fee them all the Louts furprife ; Whilft no poor bak'd Plebeian, great or fmall, Dares fhow his fneaking nofe upon the ftall I Sir Jofeph, do not fancy, that by fate Great wifdom goes with titles and eftate ! I grant that pride and infolence appear Where purblind Fortune thoufands gives a year. Too many of Fortune's infects have I feen, Proud of fome little name, with fcornful mien. High o'er the head of modeft Genius rife. Pert, foppifh, whifHing, flutt'ring butterflies ! Weak imps ! on whom, their planets all fo kind, In pity to their poverty of mind, D Around [ H ] Around them trcafure bountifully ih^d, Con vine' d the fools would want a bit of bread. SIR JOSEPH. Since truth muft out, then know, my biting friend,, Philofophers my foul with horror rend ; Whene'er their mouths are open'd, I am mum — ~ Plague take 'em, fliould a Prejide7tt be dumb ? I loathe the arts — the univerfe may know it— - I hate a painter, and I hate a poet To thefetwo ears, a bear Marchesi growls, Mara and Billington a brace of owls. To circles of pure ignorance condud me ; I hate the company that can inJiriiSi me ; I wifh to imitate my King, fo nice^ Great Prince, who ne'er was known to take advice ! Who keeps no company (delightful plan !) That dares be wifer than himfelf, good man I PETE R. [ 15 ] PETER. In troth, Sir Jofeph, I have often feen yc Look in debate a little like a ninny, Struggling to grafp the fenfe with mouth, hands, eves. And with the philofophic Speaker rile; Jufi: like a fpider brufh'd by Susan's broom. That tries to claw its thread, and mount the room,; Poor fprawling reptile, but with humbled air Condemn 'd to fneak away behind a chair,- SIR JOSEPH.. Still to the point — a rout let y^/Zowj* make ; My pow'r is too well iix'd iov fiich to fhake j My fure artill'ry hath o'ercome a hoji,. PETE R. I own the great> paft pow'rs of tea and toaftl Ven Ton's [ t6 ] Ven'fon's a C^sar in the fierceft frayt Turtle an Alexander in its way: And then, in quarrels of a {lighter nature^ Mutton's a mofl fuccefsful Mediator ! So much fuperior is the ftomach's fmart To all the vaunted horrors of the heart ; E'en Love, who often triumphs in his grief, Hath ceas'd to feed on fighs to feed on beef. SIR JOSEPH. Yes, yes, my friend, my tea and butter'd rolls Have found an eafy pafs to people's fouls : My well-tim'd dinners (vei-taitt folks revere) Have left this eafy bofom nought to fear. The turnpike road to people's hearts I find. Lies through their guts, or I miftake mankind ; Befides, whilft thus I boaft my Sov'reign's fmilep Let raggamuffins rage, and rogues revile, PETER. PETER. Alas! Sir Jofcph ! grant the King you pleafc, Which ev'ry Courtier's eye with envy fees ; A glorious thing too, no man can deny it ; Though no man ever got a fixpence by it ; Yet of our lucky illand, certai?t Kings, Far from ^//-mighty, are not mighty things ; And though w^ith many a wren you make him bleft. And many a tomtit's egg and tomtit's neft ; And many a monkey fluff 'd to make him grin. And many a fica and beetle on a pin ; And promife (to cajole the royal mind) To m.ake his butcher member, and his hind j It is not he, with Polyphemus flare, And ilern command, perpetuates the Chair ! I know that difaffc6lion taints the throng, And know the world is lavifh in its tongue. E SIR [ ^8 ] SIR JOSEPH. Ah ! tell me fairly without more delay, What 'tis the blackguard world hath dar'd to fay ; Perhaps a pretty devil I'm pourtray'd ; The world's free brufh deals damnably in fhade. PETER. Thus, then, *' How dares that man his carcafe fquat, * Bold in the facred chair where Newton fat ; * Whofe eye could Nature's darkefl: veil pervade, ' And, fun-like, view the folitary maid ; * Purfue the Wand'rer through each fecret maze, * And on her labours dart a noontide blaze? * When to the chair Banks forc'd his bold afcent,, ** He crawl'd a hug upon the monument.^'' SIR JOSEPH, Curfe them !- PETER. Have patience, dear Sir Jofeph, pray \ I have not mention'd half the people fay : — - Thus [ 19 ] Thus then again, " He beats the bears, fo rude, ' Witli bulldog afpecl, and with brains of mud: ' His words, like flones for pavements, make us flart ; ' Pvude, roughly rumbling, tumbling from the cart ; ' Who for importance all his lungs employs, ' And thinks that words, like drums, were made for noife' ' A fellow fo unqualified to fhine 1 ' Who never to the Journals gave a line ; * But into Sweden caft a fox-like look, ' And caught Goofe Dryander to write his book*, ' Such is the mania for the claps of Fame, ' So fought by many a Squire and gentle Dame, ' Refembling Beggars that on alms grow fat ; ' Who, if too w^eak themfehes to make a brat, ' Buy children up to melt the travler's eye, ' And from his pocket call the charity ►. * A moft pompous Birth In the botanical way Is to make Its appear- ance foon ; Sir Jofeph the reputed father, though Jonas Dryander, the- Swede, his fecretary, begets It, •'^ Though [ 2° ] *' Through him each trifle-liunter that can briiig *' A grub, a weed, a moth, a beetle's wing, " Shall to a Fellow's dignity fuccced ; *' Witncfs Lord Chatham and his pifs-a-bed* 1 ^' How had he pow'rs to mufter up the face ** To afk a President's important place ? '* How with a matchlefs infolence to dare «« Abufe and joftle PRiNGLEf from the chair? * Fulgarly C2\\ed. Dandelion.. Something of this kind, (a moft won- derful fpecies !) was prefented by the eldeft born of the great Pitt, for ^vhich he was created F. R. S. ■f- About the year 1779? conduclors were ordered to be placed near all our magazines to fecure them from the effeds of lightning. A queflion then arofe, which would befl: fucceed, blunt or pointed condiiAors. Sir John Pringle, with the fenlible part of the Society, were of opinion, as, indeed, was Dr. Franklin, that points were preferable — Sir Jofeph Banks and his party roared loudly for the blunts. — The difpute ran fo hioh, that His Majefty took a part in it ; and being rather partial to blunt condu£lors, thought to put an end to the m.atter by giving his own peremptory declfion, and announcing to the world the luperlorlty of NOBS. To confirm his great and 'wife opinion, i^^obs were adually fixed on iron rods at the end of Buckingham Houfe. This, however, was not [ .1 ] *' A motK-Iiiintcr, a crab-catcher, a bat, *' That owes its fole exiftence to a gnat ! " A hunter of the meaneft reptile breed, *' A f— 1 that croiTes oceans for a v/eeJ ! *' Once tow 'ring Science made Crane Court * her home, ** And heav'n-born Wisdom patroniz'd the dome j *' With awful afpedl at the portal fhone, * ' And to her mansion woo'd the wife alone j not all ; on the birth-day, His Majefty defined Sir John to give it to the world as the opinion of the Royai Society, that Dr. Franklin was wrong, Tlie Prefideut replied, like a man, tlut it was not in his power to re- verfe the order of Nature. The Sovereign could not cafily fee that, and therefore repeated his commands. — Teized by the King from time to time to oppofe the decided opinion of the rebellious Franklin, and the laws of Nature ; and]conftantly barked at by Sir Joleph and his moth- hunting phalanx; he refigned the chair and returned to Scotland. — The honour was inflantaueoufly fnapped at and caught by the prefent poflcf- for, fuch as he is ! * The Royal Society's rooms are removed from Crane Court to So- merfet Place, F «' Now [ 22 3 *' Now at the door fee moon-eyed Folly grin, *• Invitins birds-neft hunters to come in : ** Idiots who fpecks on eggs devoutly ken, *' And furbiili up a folio on a wren." You fee the world, Sir Jofeph, fcorns to flatter— SIR JOSEPH. By G-d ! I think it hath not minc'd the matter. Yet, by the Pow'r who made me, Peter, knaw, I'm honoured, ftar'd at, wherefoe'er I go ! Soon as a room I enter, lo, all ranks Get up to compliment Sir Joseph Banks !— — PETER. And then fit down again, I do fuppofe ; And then aroimd the room a whifper goes, " Lord, that's Sir Joseph Banks!-— how grand his look!! " Who fail'd all round the world with Captain Cook ! "' SIR JOSEPH. Zounds I what the devil's fame if this he not? PETER. Sir Jofeph, prithee don't be fuch a fot — — ■ Thofe [ 23 ] Thofe wonderful admirers, man, were dozens Of frefK imported, ftaring country Coufins ; To London come, tlie waxwork to devour, And fee their brother beads within the Tow'r ;. True fame is praife by men of wifclo^n giv'n, Whofe fouls difplay fome workmanfhip of Hcav'n 5, Not by the wooden million Nature's chips, Whofe twilight fouls are ever in eclipfe j Puppies ! who, though on idiotifm's dark brink,. Becaufe they've hcads^ dare fancy they can th'ujJi^ SIR J O S E P H. What though unletter'd *, I can lead the herd. And laueh at half the members to their beard.. Frequent to Court I go, and midft the ring, I caicl:. tnofl gracious whifpers from the King- •" \\\ iplte of our cbje£lion to Sir Jofeph as a Prefident, we muH:' al- low his candour ia ackaowledgiug hlmlclf inikitcred, as he really was refufed his degree at Cambridge, though evcrV/iiiterefl was imj)lorcd to. iViake him pafs muftfr. PETE R.. L H 1 PETER. And well (I think) I hear each precious fpeech, In fentiment fubUme, and language rich ; What's new, Sir Joseph ? what, what's new found out ? What's the fcciety, what, what about ? Any more monfters, lizard, monkey, rat. Egg, weed, moufe, butterfly, pig, what, what, what ? Toad, fpider, grafshopper, Sir Joseph Banks ? Any more thanks, more thanks, more thanks, more thanks? You ftill eat raw flefli, beetle, viper, bat. Toad, tadpole, frog, Sir Jofeph, what, what, what?" Such is the language of the firfl: of Kings, That many a fighing heart with envy flings ! And much I'm pleas'd to fancy that I hear Such wife and gracious whifpers greet your ear : Yet if the greater part of members growl, Though owls themfelves, and cuvkjou for an owl ; And bent the great Sir Joseph Banks to humble. Behold the Giant President muft tumble. S I R [ *5 ] SIR JOSEPH. Zounds ! Sir, the Great-ones to my whillle come ; I have 'em ev'ry one beneath my thumb. Electors, Margraves, Princes, grace ray lift. And fhall a few poor ragged rogues refift, Becaufe (a flock of aftronomic gulls,) The cobweb mathematics cloud their fculls ? The GREAT, when beckon'd to, my caufe {hall aid. And happy think themfelves with tha?iks o'erpaid : Thefe fliall arife, and with a Angle frown. Beat the bold front of oppofition down. PETER. Thus by a word, the Showman at the Tow'r Exerts on brother favages his pow'r y Bids Nero, Caesar, Pompey, fpread their paws, And fhow the dangers of their gaping jaws ! G SIR [ ^<5 ] S I R J O S E P H. By heav'ns ! I've merit, fay what e'er you pleafe 1 Can name the vegetable tribes with eafe What monkey walks the woods or climbs a tree Whofe genealogy's unknown to me ? PETER. I grant you, Sir, in monkey knowledge great ; Yet fay, fliould monkeys give you Newton's feat ? Such merit fcarcely is enough to dub A man a member of a country club. With novel fpecks on eggs to feaft the eye. Or gaudy colours of a butterfly, Or new-found fibre of fome grafly blade, Well fuits the idle hours of fome old maid, (Whofe fighs each lover's vanifli'd fighs deplore) To murder time when Cupids kill no more ; Not [ ^7 ] Not men, who, laboring with a Titan mind^ Should fcale the fkies to benefit mankind. I grant you full of anecdote, my friend Bons fiwts-j and wond'rous flories without end ; Yet if a tale can claim, or jeft fo rare, Ten thouland goflips might demand the chair> To fhoot at 'boobies*, noddies, with fuch luck„ And pepper a poor Indian like a duck; To hunt for days a lizard or a gnat, And run a dozen miles to catch a bat -^ To plunge in marfhes, and to fcale the rocks, Sublime, for fcurvygrafs and lady-fmocksf ^ * " Great and manifold were Sir Jofeph's triumphs over thefe de» feucelefs animals," fays Dr. Hawkfworth's mofl miferable account ; which might more properly be chriftened " The hlftory of Sir Jofeph " Banks," fo much, indeed, is Sir Jofeph the hero of the tale.. t See Hawkfworth's account of Captaixi Cook's Voyage, Arc [ 28 ] Are matters of proud trliimpli, to be furc, And fuch as Fame's fair volume fhould fecure : Yet to my mind, it is not fucli a feat, As gives a man a claim to Newton's feat. SIR JOSEPH. Yet are there men of genius who fupport me ! Proud of my friendfhip, fee Sir William court me! PETER. Great in the eating knowledge all allow ; Who fent you once the Sumen of a fow * ; Far richer food than pig^ that lofe their breath, Whipp'd, like poor foldiers on parades, to death. * Sir W. Hamilton, who fent Sir Jofeph from Italy this precious prefent — The mode of making it properly is, hy tying the teats of a fow, foon after (he hath littered, continuing the ligature till the poor creature is nearly exhaufted with torture, and then cutting her throat. The effedls of the milk dltfufed through this belly part are fo delicious, as to be thought to make ample artonement for the barbarity. Sir C 29 3 Sir William, hand and glove with Naples King ! Who made with rare antiques the nation ring ; Who when Vesuvius foam'd with melted matter, March'd up and clapp'd his nofe into the crate?-, Juft with the hmt Jang froid that Joan the cook Cafts on her dumplings in the crock a look. But more the world reports (I hope untrue) That half Sir William's Mugs and Gods are new ; Himfelf th.^ Baker of th' Etrurian ware. That made our Britifh Antiquarians flare ; Nay, that he means ere long to crofs the main, And at his Naples oven fwcat again ; And by his late luccefles render'd bolder, To bake 7iew mugs, and gods fome ages olde^r 1 S I R J O S E P H. God blefs us ! what to Herfchcl dare you fay, The aftronomic genius of the day, H Who I 30 ] Who foon will find more wonders in the /kies, And with more Georgium Sidufes furprife ? F £. T E R. More iEtnas in the Moon ?/iorc cinder loads ! Perhaps mail coaches on her turnpike roads, By fome great Lunar Palmer taught to %, To gain the gracious glances of the eye Of fome penurious Prince of high degree, And charm the monarch with a pojiage free ; Such as to Chelt'nam * waters urg'd their way, Where Cloacina holds her eafy fway ; Where paper mills fhall load with wealth the town. And ev'ry fhop Ihall deal in ivhitijlj-brown ; Where for the coach the King was wont to watch, Loaded with fifh, fowl, bacon, and difpatch * ^ Eggs- * Mr. Palmer very generoujly offered His Sovereign a mail coaeh to carry letters and dlfpatches to and from Cheltenham — the offer was too greaf to be r-efufed — a fplendid carriage was built for the occafion : His moft [ 3^ ] Eggs and fmall beer, potatoes, too, a ftore, That coft ill Chel'tnam market twopence more ; Converting thus a coach of matchlefs art, With two rare geldings, to a Sutlers cart. But, voluble Sir Jofeph — not fo fall The fame ot Herschel is a dvins blaft i When on the moon he fir ft began to peep. The wond'ring world pronounc'd the Gazer deep ; But wifer now th' «7?-wondVing world, alas ! Gives all poor Herschel's glory to his glafs y Convinc'd his boafted aftronomic fireno-th. Lies ia his tube\ *, not head^ prodigious lengths moft CEConomic Majeftj, however, wifely knowing that fomething more than a few letters might be contained in Mr. Palmer's vehicle, converted it, as the Poet hath obferved, into a cart, aiid laved many a fixpence» * We would not detradt from Mr. Herschel's real merit, — By a true German cart-horfe labour, he made a little improvement on Dr. Mudge's method of conftru. i' .aid before, The blufhing Members look for fomethmg more. SIR JOSEPH. Hell feize the Pack ! unconfcionable dogs ! Snakes, fpiders, beetles, chaffers, tadpoles, frogs, All fwallow'd to difplay what jnan can do^ And muft the villains ftill have fomething new ? Tell, then, each pretty President Creator, G — d d-mn him, that I'll eat an Alligator \ PETER. Sir Jofeph, pray don't eat an Alligator Go fwallow fomewhat of a fofter nature ; Feaft on the arts and fciences, and learn Sublimity from trifle to difcern : With fhells, and flies, and daifles, cover'd o'er. Let pert Queen Fiddlefaddle rule no more; Thus ■I 5^^ 3 Thus fluU Philosophy her fuffrage yield, Sir Jofeph wear his hat *, and hammer^ wield ; No more fhall Wisdom on the Journals ftare, Nor Newton's f image blujOh behind the chair. * The Prefident has the ineflimable and fole privilege of' fitting co- vered at the Royal Society's meeting. — The hammer forms a part of the regalia., to command fileuce, and roufe the Members from their happy {lumbers, v/hilft their Secretary, Dr. Blagden, proclaims rare news from the mioth, bat, butterfly, and fpider countries. i The pidure of diis great man is immediately behind, the chair of the President. \ 1 s. A N APOLOGETIC POSTSCRIPT T O ODE UPON ODE. By peter PINDAR, E SQi Priiicipibus placuifTe viris non ultima laus eft. Horace. The Bard whole Verfe can charm the Best of Kings, Performeth mojl extraordinary Things ! A NEW EDITION, WITH CONSIDERABLE ADDITIONS. LONDON: Printed for G. KEARSLEY, at Johnson's Head, No. 46, Fleet Street. M.DCC.LXXXVIII. B» A N APOLOGETIC POSTSCRIPT T O ODE UPON ODE. XV E A D E R, I folemnly protefl I thought that I had work'd up all my rhyme ! What ftupid demon hath my brain poffefs'd ? I prithee pardon me this time : - Afford thy patience through more Ode ; 'Tis not a v^aft extent of road : Together let us gallop then along : Moft nimbly fhall old Pegafus, my hack, ftir, . : To drop the image — prithee hear more fong, Some * 7nore laji words of Mr. Baxter.'' B A wond'roTis [ 8 ] A wond'rous fav'ritc with the tuneful throng, SubKmcly great are Peter's pow'rs of fong : His nerv^e of fatire, too, fo very tough, Strong without weaknefs, without foftnefs rough. What Horace faid of flreams in eafy lay The marv'ling World of Peter's tongue may fay ; His tongue, fo copious in a flux of metre, ^ " Labitur et labetur ! " ODE. The argument. PETER 7iobly achiowledgcth error, fi/fpeSleth an interfering Devil, and fuppUcateth his Reader — He boajleth, wittily parodieth, and tnoji learn- edly quoieth a Latin Poet — He peweth much affeSlion for Kings, illuf- t rating it by a beautiful f mile — Peter again ivaxeth ivitty — Refolution declared for rhyme in confequence of encouragement from our two Uni- versities — Peter wickedly accufed of King-roafing\ refuteth the malevolent charge by a mof apt illujiration — Peter criticifeth the blun- ders of the far s — Peter repUeth to the charges brought againji him by the World — He difplayeth great Bible knowledge, and maketh afrewd obfervation on King David, Uriah, and the Sheep, fuch as no Commentator ever made before — Peter challengeth Courtiers to equal his intj-epidity, and proveth his fuperiority of courage by giving a delec- table tale of Dumplings — Peter anfwereth the unbelief of a vocife- rous World— - T>eclareth totis viribus love for Kings — Peter, peepeth into Futurity, and telleth the fortime of the Prince of Wales — He defcanteth on the high province of ancient Poets, and difplayeth clajfical erudition — Peter holdeth conference with a ^laker — Peter, as ufual, turneth rank Egotift — He telleth f range news relating to Majesty and Pepper Arden — Peter apologifeth for impudence by a tale of a French King — Peter, imitating Ovid, who was tranf ported for his impudent Ballads, talketh to his Ode — Suggefteth a royal anfwer to Ode and Odefa£iors — Happily fekSleth a fory of King Canute, il- luf rating the danger of fopping the mouths of Poets with halters, &?c., infead of meat — Peter concludeth with a wife obfervation. [ 9 ] ODE. WORLD ! ftop thy mouth — I am rcfolv'd to rhyme — I cannot throw away a vein fublime : If I may take the liberty to brag, I cannot, like the fellow m the Bible, Venting upon his mailer a rank libel, • Conceal my talent in a 7'ag, Kings muft continue ftill to be my theme » Eternally of Kings I dream; : -. • As beggars ev'ry night, we muft fuppofe, Dream of their vermin, in their beds ; Becaufe, as ev'ry body knows. Such th'm^s are always ru?min^ in their heads. Befides — were I to write of common folks, No foul would buy my rhymes fo ftrange, and jokes : Then what becomes of mutton, beef, and pork — ~ How would my mafticating mufcles work ? C " Indeed, [ lO ] Indeed, I dare not fay they would be idle. But, like my Pegafus's chops, fo ftout, Who plays and wantons with his bridle, And nobly flings the foam about ; So miine would work — " On what ?" my reader cries, With a ftretch'd pair of unbelieving eyes Heav'n help thy moft unpcnetrating wit ! On a hard moiftl — Hunger's iron bit. ■0- By all the rhyming goddeffes and gods I will — I mujl, pcrflft in Odes And not a pow'r on earth fliiall hinder I hear both * Univerfities exclaim, Peter, it is a glorious road to fame ; *' Euge Poeta inagne — well faid, Pindar I " * The violence of the Univerfities on this occafion may probably arife from the contempt thrown on them by His Majefty's fending the Royal children to Gottengen for education ; but have not Their Majeflies amply made it up to Oxford by a vifit to that celebrated feminary— and is not Cambridge to receive the fame honour ? Yet cc [ ^^ ] Yet fome approacli with apoftolic face. And cry, " O Peter, what a want of grace " Thus in thy rhyme to roaft a King ! " / 7-oaJl a King ! by heav'ns 'tis not a facfl I fcorn fuch wicked and difloyal ad Who dares affert it, fays a flund'rous thing. Hear what I have to fiy of Kings If, unfublime, they deal in childifh things, , And yield not, of reform, a ray of hope ; Each mighty Monarch ftraight appears to me A roafter of hini-felf — Felo de fe I only ad: as Cook, and clijh him up.- Reader ! another fimile as rare My verfes form a fort of bill of fare. Informing guefts what kind of llefh and HOi Is to be found within each di{li \ That eating people may not be miftaken. And take, for ortolan, a lump of bacon.. Whcne\'eir [ 12 ] Whenever I have heard of Kings Who place in goflipings, and news, their pride, And knowing family concerns -— mean things ! Very judicioufly, indeed, I've cry'd, " I wonder '* How their blind ftars could make fo grofs a blunder 1 " " Infliead of fitting on a throne '* In purple rich — of ftate fo full, " They fhould have had an apron on, ** And, feated on a three-legg'd ftool, " Commanded of dead hair, the fprigs " To do their duty upon wigs. ■* By fuch miftakes, is Nature often foil'd : ** Such improprieties fhould never fpring' it Thus a fine chattering barber may be fpoil'd, ** To make a moft indiff'rcnt King.''' '' Sir, t - . [ ^3 ] *' Sir, Sir, (I hear the world exclaim] "At too high game you impudently aim '• How dare you, with your jokes and gibes, *' Tread, like a horfc, on kingly kibes? " Folks, who can't fee their errors, can't 7'zfoi'm : No plainer axiom ever came from man j And 'tis a Chriflian's duty, in a florm. To fave his finking neighbour, if he can : Thus / to Kings my Ode of Wifdom pen, Becaufe your Kings have fouls like common men. The Bible warrants me to fpeak the truth Nor mealy-mouth' d my tongue in filence keep : Did not good Nathan tell that buckifh youth, David the King, that he ftole flieep ? D Stok [ ^4 j Stole poor Uriah's little fav'rite lamb — An ewe it chanc'd to be, and not a ram - For had it been a ram, the royal glutton Had never meddled with Uriah's mutton. What modern Courtier, pray, hath got the face To fay to Majefty, " O King ! •' hx.fuch a time, m fuch a place, ** You did a very foolifh thing ? " What Courtier, not a foe to his own glory. Would publifh of his King this fimple ftory ? — The [ K^ ] The APPLE DUMPLINGS and a KING. ONCE on a time, a Monarch, tir'd with hooping. Whipping and fpurring, Happy in worrying A poor, defencelefs, harmlefs buck ; (Tlie horfe and rider wet as muck,) From his high confequence and wifdom ftooping, Enter'd, tlirough curiofity, a cot, Where fat a poor old woman and her pot. The wrinkled, bicar-ey'd, good, old granny, In this fame cot, illum'd by many a cranny. Had finifh'd apple dumplings for her pot : In tempting row the naked dumplings lay. When, lo ! the Monarch, in his ufual way, ike lightning fpoke, " What's this? what's this? what? what?" Then ,[ -I^ ] Then taking up a dumpling in his hand, His eyes with admiration did expand And oft did Majefly th? dnrnpi-ng grapple : " 'Tis monflron?^^, monftrous hard indeed," he cry'd : ** Vv'hat makes it, pray, fo hard ?" — The Dame reply'd, Low ciirtfying, " Pieafc Your Majedy, the apple." '* Very allonifhing indeed ! — ftrange thing ! '* (Turning the dumpling round, rejoin'd the King.) " "Tis moft extraordinary then, all this is " It beats Pinetti's conjuring all to pieces *' Strange I fliould never of a dumpling dream " But, Goody, tell me where, where, where's the feam?" *' Sir, there's no feam (quoth fhe) ; I never knew *' That folks did apple dumplings y^-w." " No ! (cry'd the ftaring Monarch with a grin) '* How, how the devil got the apple in ?" On ^ [ 17 ] On which the Dame the curious fcheme reveal'd By which the apple lay fo fly conceal'd, Which made the Solomon of Britain Hart ; Who to the Palace with full fpeed rcpair'd, And Queen, and PrincelTes fo beauteous, fcar'd, All with the wonders of the Dumplino: art! There did he labour one whole week, to iTiow The wifdom of an Apple-Dumpling Maker; And lo ! fo deep was Majefty in dough, The Palace fecm'd the lodging of ^. Baker. E READER, r 18 ] READER, thou likeft not my tale — look'fl: blue — Thou art a Courtier — roareft " Lies, Lies, Lies !" Do, for a moment, ftop thy cries I tell thee, roaring infidel, 'tis true. Why ihould it not be true ? — The greatej} men May afk a foolifh queflion now and then This is the language of all ages : Folly lays many a trap — we can't efcape it : Nemo (fays fome one) omnibus ho?'-is fapit : Then why not Kings, like me and other fages ? Far from defpifing Kings, I like the breed. Provided King- like they beliave : Kings are an inftrument we need, Tuft as we razors want — to fhave ; To r 19 ] To keep the State's face fmooth — give it an air Like my Lord North's, fo jolly, round, and fair. ' My fenfe of Kings though freely I impart I hate not royalty, Heav'n knows my heart. Princes and PrincefTes I like, fo loyal Great George's children are my great delight ; . . The fweet Augufta, and fweet Princefs Royal, Obtain my love by day, and pray'rs by night. Yes ! I like Kings — and oft look back with pride Upon the Edwards, Harrys of our ifle y - Great fouls ! in virtue as in valour try'd, Whofe actions bid the cheek of Britons fmile. Mufe ! let us 2X^0 forward look, And take a peep into Fate's book, ■ Behold ! [ 20 ] Behold ! the fceptre young Augustus fways ; I hear the mingled praife of millions rife ; I fee uprais'd to Heav'n their ardent eyes ; That for their Monarch afk a length of days. Bright in the brightejl annals of renown, Behold fair Fame his youthful temples crown With laurels of unfading bloom ; Behold Dominion fwell beneath his care, And GENIUS, rifing from a dark defpair, His long-extinguifli'd fires relume. Such are the Kings that fuit my tafte, I own Not thofe where all the littlenejfes join Whofe fouls fhould ftart to find their lot a throtie^ And blufh to fhow their nofes on a coin. Pvcader, for fear of wicked applications, I now allude to Kings oi foj-eign natmis. Poets [ 2^ ] Poets (fo unimpeach'd tradition Tays) The lole hiftorians were of ancient days, Who help'd their heroes Fame's high hill to clamber j ' Penning their glorious a6ts in language ftrong, And thus prefer ving, by immortal fong, Their names amidft their tuneful amber. What am / doing ? Lord ! the very fame Preferving many a deed deferving Fame, Which that old lean, devouring fhark call'd Time Would, without ceremony, eat ; In my opinion, far too rich a treat I therefore merit ftatues for my rhyme. ..■ 1 i-L*- .--:'"'" •!:); ! < . I " All this is laudable, (a Quaker cries) ** But let grave Wifdom, Friend, thy verfes rule; ** Put out thine IRONY's two fquinting eyes *' Defpifc thy grinning monkey, RIDICULE." What I [ 22 ] W]iat ! flight my fportive monkey, RIDICULE, Who acts Hke birch on boys at fchool, Negleding leflbns — truant, perhaps, whole weeks ! My RIDICULE, with humour fraught, and wit, Is that fatiric friend, a gouty fit, Which bites men into health and rofy cheeks : A moral mercury that cleanfeth fouls Of ills that with them play the devil Like mercury that much the pow'r controls Of prefents gain'd from ladies over civil. Reader, I'll brag a little, if you pleafe ; The ancients did fo, therefore why not If Lo ! for my good advice I afk no fees, Whilft other Dodlors let their patients die ; That is, fuch patients as can't pay for cure A very felfifli, wicked thing, I'm fure. Now [ 23 ] Now though I'm foul phyfician to the King, I never begg'd of him the fmalleft thing For all the threfhing of my virtuous brains ; Nay, were I my poor pocket's ftatc t'impart, So well I know my royal patient's heart, ; He would not give me two-pence for my pains. But hark ! folks fay the King is very mad The news, if true, indeed, were very fad, And far too ferious an affair to mock it Yet how can this agree with what I've heard, That fo much by him are my rhymes rever'd - He goes a hunting with them in his pocket : ' -\ And when thronm out — v/hich often is the cafe, (In bacon hunting, or of bucks the race) My verfe fo much His Majefly bewitches, That out he pulls my honour'd Odes, And reads them on the turnpike roads Now under trees and hedges now in ditches, . . Hark ! [ 24 1 Hark ! with aftonifliment, a found I hear, That ftrikes tremendous on my ear ; It fays, Great Arden, commonly call'd Pepper, Of mighty George's thunderbolts the keeper, Juft like of Jupiter the famous eagle. Is order' d out to hunt me like a beagle. But, eagle Pepper, give my love Unto thy lofty mafter, Mr. JOVE, And afk how it can fquare with his religion^ To bid thee, without mercy, fall on. With thy fhort flurdy beak, and iron talon, A pretty, little, harmlefs, cooing pigeon ? By heav'ns, I difbelieve the fad: A Monarch cannot fo unwifely a<5l ! Suppofe that Kings, fo rich, are always mumping. Praying and prefTmg Minifters for money ; Bidding them on our hive (poor bees !) be thumping. Trying to fhake out all our honey ; A thmg ' [ 25 ] A thing that oft hath happen'd in our ifle ! — - Pray, {han*t we be allow 'd to fmiie ? To cut a joke, or epigram contrive. By way of folace for our plunder'd hive ? A King of France, (I've loft the Monarch's name) Who avaricious got himfelf bad fame, By moft unmannerly and thievifti plunges Into his fubjedls purfes, . i'^'- A deep tnanoeuvre that obtain'd their curies, Becaufe it treated gentlefolks XUkcfpunges, V To (how how much they relifh'd not fuch fqueez^ingy Such goods and chattel-feizing. They publifhVl libels to difplay their hate, ; To comfort, in fome fort, their fouls, ,. For fuch a number of large holes , • Eat by this Royal Rat in each eftate. • G The [ 26 ] Tlie pRFMiER op'd ills gullet like a fliark, To hear fuch fatires on the Grand Monarquc, And roar'd " MeflicurSj you foon (hall feel " My criticifm upon your ballads, ** Not to your tafic fo fweet as frogs and fallads, " A flridure critical yclep'd Bastile." But firft he told the tidings to the King, Then fwore par Dieu that he would quickly bring Unto the grinding ftone their nofes down No, not a foul of 'em fhould ever thrive ; He'd flay them, like St. Bartlemew, alive Villains ! for daring to infult the Crown. The Monarch heard Monlieur le Premier out, And, fmiling on his loyalty fo flout. Replied, " Monfieur le Premier, you are wrong — " Don't of the pleafure let them be debarr'd *' You know how we have ferv'd 'em — faith ! 'tis hard ** They fhould not for their money have difojtg,^* Ovid, Ovii5, fv/cet flory- teller of old times, Unluckily tranfported for his rhymes, Addrefs'd his book before he bade it walk ; Therefore my Worlliip, and my Ode, In imitation of fuch clalTic mode, May, like two Indian nations, have a Talk. " Dear Ode ! whofe verfe the true fubiime affords, ''Go, vifit Kings, Queens, ParaHtes, and Lords ^ " And ii thy modert beauties they adore, '' Inform them., they iliall fpeedily have more."" But poflibly a mighty King m.ay fay, '* Ode! Ode! — What? What? I hate your rhyme haranguinr; ' " I'd rather hear a jackafs bray : '* I never knew a poet worth the hanging. *' I hate, abiior them but TU clio their vvinQ:s ; *' I'll teach the faucy knaves to laugh at Kings : '' Yes, (( i( it (( [ ^8 1 Yes, yes, the rhyming rogues, their fongs fhall rue, A ragged, bold-fac'd, ballad-iinging crew» Yes, yes, the poets fhall my povv'r confefs ; I'll maul that fpawning devil call'd the Prefs." If furious thus exclaim a King of glory. Tell him, O gentle Mufe, this pithy fliory i KING [ 29 ] KING CANUTE and HIS NOBLES^ A T A L E: CANUTE was by his nobles taught to fancy. That by a kind of royal necromancy, ^ He had the pow'r Old Ocean to control Down rufh'd the Royal Dane upon the ftrand, And iffued, like a Solomon, command Poor foul ! " Go back, ye waves, you bluft'ring rogues," quoth he, ** Touch not your Lord and Mailer, Sea, " For by my pow'r almighty, if you do "** Then flaring vengeance out he held a flick, ' Vowing to drive Old Ocean to Old Nick, Should he ev'n wet the latchet of his fhoe, H The [ so ] The Sea rctir'd the Monarch fierce ruOi'd on, And look'd as if he'd driv^e him from the land- But Sea not caring to be put upon. Made for a moment a bold ftand : Not only m.ake ■A.ftajid did Mr. Ocean, . But to his honeft waves he made a motion, And bid them give the King a hearty trimming : The orders feem'd a deal the waves to tickle, For foon they put His Majefty in pickle ; And fat his Royalties, like geefe, a fwimming. . All hands aloft, with one tremendous roar. Soon did they make him wifh himfelf on fhore j His head and. ears moft handfomely they dous'd Tuft like a porpus, with one general fliout, The waves fo tumbled the poor King about No Anabaptift e'er was half fo fous'd. At [ 3t ] At len2;th to land he crawl'd, a half-drown'd thinor. Indeed more like a crab than like a King, And found his Courtiers makino; rueful faces : But what l-iid Canute to the Lords and Gentry, Who hail'd him from the water, on his entry, All trembling for their lives or places ? - ^'" • " My Lords and Gentlemen, by your advice, " I've had with Mr. Sea a pretty buflle; " My treatment from my foe not over nice, " Jufl: made a jefi: for ev'ry flirimp and mufcle : *' A pretty trick for one of my dominion ! *' My Lords, I thank you for your great opinion. *' You'll tell me, p'rhaps, I've only loft: o^ie game, " And bid m.e try another — for the rubber *' Permit me to inform, you all, Vv'ith fhame, *' That you're a fet of knaves, and I'm a lubber." ucl' :n [ 32 ] Such is the ftory, my dear Ode, Which thou wilt bear a facred load ! Yet, much I fear, 'twill be of no great ufe : Kings are in general obftinate as mules ; Thofe who furround them, moftly rogues and fools. And therefore can no benefit produce. Yet ftories, fentences, and golden rules, Undoubtedly were made for rogues and fools ; But this unluckily the fimple fa6t is ; Thofe rogues and fools do nothing but admire^ And all fo dev'lifh modeft, don't defire The glory of reducing them to praBice. THE END, B O Z ZY AND P I O Z ZI: TOWN ECLOGUE. [Pnce THREE SHILLINGS.] ENTERED AT STATIONERS' HALL The argument. ON the death o/" Doctor Johnson, a number of people, ambitious of being dijlinguijhed from the mute part of their Jpecies, fet about relating and printing fories atid bons mots of that celebrated moralifi. Amongjl the moft zealous, though not the mojl enlightened, appeared Mr. Boswell and Madame Piozzi, the Hero and Heroine of our Eclogue. I'hey are fuppofed to have in contemplation the life of Johnson ; and to prove their biographical abilities, appeal to Sir John Hawkins for his decifon sn their refpeSfive merits, by quotations from their printed anec- dotes of the Doctor. Sir John hears them with uncommon patience, and determines very properly on the pretenjions of the contending parties. B O ZZ Y AND P I O Z Z I: OR, THE BRITISH BIOGRAPHERS. TOWN ECLOGUE. By PETER PINDAR, Esau ire. Arcades amho. Et cantare pares, ct refpondere, parati ! Virgil. NINTH EDITION. LONDON: Printed for G. KEARSLEY, at Johns:n's Head, No. 46, Fli:et Street. M.DCC.LXXXVni. ■''V B O Z Z Y AND P I O Z Z I, TOWN ECLOGUE. W HEN Johnson fought (as Shakefpear fays) that boicm-^ From whence, alas ! no travellers return ; In humbler Englifh, when the Doctor died, Apollo whimper'd, and the Muses cried; Parnassus mop'd for days, in bufinefs flack, And like a hearfe, the liill was hung with black j - Minerva, fighing for hex fav rite fon, Pronounc'd, with lengthen' d face, thQ woAd zmdo7ie -y - '- Her OWL, too, hooted in fo loud a ftile. That people might have heard the bird a wile; B ' Jove [6 ] Jove wip'd his eyes fo red, and told his wife. He ne'er made Johnson's equal in his life; And that 'twould be a long^ lojig time^ if ever.. His art could form a fellow half fo clever ; Venus, of all the little Loves the Dam, With all the Graces, fobb'd for brother Sam : Such were the heav'nly bowlings for his death, As if Dame Nature had -refign d her breath. Nor lefs fonorous was the grief, I M^een, Amidft the natives of our earthly fcene : From beggars, to the GREAT who hold the helm, One yohnfo-mania rag'd through all the realm ! ** Who (cried the world) can match his profe or rhyme ? " O'er wits of modern days he towers fublime ! An OAK, wide fpreading o'er x.\\q Jljrubs below. That round his roots, with puny foliage, blow ; " A Pyramid, amidft fome barren wafte, '* That frowns o'er htits, the fport of ev'ry blaft ; *' A mighty (C (C [ 7 ] ** A mighty Atlas, whofe afpiring head •' O'er diftant regions cafts an awful fhade. " By KINGS and beggars, lo ! his tales are told, ** And ev'ry fentence glows a ^r^/;2 (j/'^o/ And who that own'd this blood could well refufe To make the world acquainted with the ?ieni^s ? But to return unto my charming child : About our Do<3:or Johnson fhe was wild; And when he left off fpeaking, fhe would flutter, Squawl for him to begin again, and fputter ! And to be 7iear him a ftrong wifh exprefs'd. Which proves he was not fuch a horrid beaft. Her fondnefs for the Dodor pleas'd me greatly ; On which I loud exclaim'd, in language ftately, G Nay, [ ^6 ] Nay, if I recolka: aright, I fwore, I'd to her fortune add five hundred more ! MADAME P I O Z Z I*. One day, as we were all in talking loft. My mother's fav'rite fpaniel ftole the toaft j On which, immediately, I fcream'd *' Fie on her, — " Fie, Belle," faid I, " you us'd to be on honour." — -* '* Yes," Johnson cried ; "but. Madam, pray be told, " The reafon for the vice is — Belle grows old.'"' But Johnson never could the dog abide, Becaufe my mother wafh'd and comb'd his hide. The truth on't is — Belle was not too well bred> Who always would iiifijl on being fed ; And very often too, the Huicy slut Inlifted upon having the firfi Cut. B O Z Z Y. Laft night much care for Johnson's cold was us'd, Who, hitherto, vi^itliout his nightcap f7ioozd% * Page 256. That L 2y ■] That nought might treat fo wofiderful a man ill, Sweet Mifs M'Leod did make a cap of flannel * ■ And after putting it about his head, v She gave him brandy as he went to bed. ' ■ MADAME P I O Z Z I*. One niQ-ht we parted at the Dodior's door. When thus I faid, as I had faid before, " Don't forget Dicky, Doctor; — mind poor Dick." On which he turn'd round on his heel fo quick, . .. '* Madam," quoth he, " and when I've ferv'd that elf, " I guefs I then may go and hajig myfelf." B O Z Z Yt. At night, well foak'd with rain, and wond'rous weaiy. We got as wet as fliags to Ikverary ; We fupp'd moll: royally w^ere vaftly friiky, When Johnson ordered up a gill of wifky ; Taking the glafs, fays I, " Here's Mrs. Thrale." - " Drink her in ly/^Z/Zj not," faid he, " but y?/?." * Page 204 t Page 483. • . - MADAME r ^^ ] M A D A M E P I O Z Z 1*. The Dodor had a cat, and chri ilen'd Hodge, That at his hoiife in Fleet Street us'd to lodge — This Flodge grew old, and fick, andus'd to wiOi That all liis dinners might be form'd oi f-jh j To plcafe poor Hodge, the Do6lor, all fo kind. Went out, and bought him oyjlers to his mind-. This every day he did — nor afk'd black Frank f. Who deem'd himfelf of much too high a rank, Witli vulgar fJJj-fags to be forc'd to chat, And purchafe oyfters for a mangy cat. SIR JOHN. For God's fake ftay each anecdotic fcrap ; Let me draw breath, and take a trifling nap ; With one half hour's reflecting flumber bleft. And Heav'n's afliftance, I may bear the reft. Afide'\ — What have I done, inform me, gracious Lord ! That thus m.y ears with nonfenfe fliould be bor'd ? *« * Page 1 02. t I^r. Johnfon's fervant. Oh! .. i-.:\ ■'* ■. O [ ^9 ] Oh ! if I do not in the trial die, The Devil and all his brimftone I defy ; No punifliment in other worlds I fear, My crimes will all be expiated here. Ah ! ten times happier was my lot of yore, When, rais'd to confequence that all adore, I fit, each feflion, king-like, in the chair, . . . • Aw'd ev'ry rank, and made the million flare : Lord paramount o'er ev'ry Juftice riding ; In caufes, with a Tiirkifh fway, deciding ! Yes, like a noble Bafhaw, of three tails^ ' I fpread a fear and trembling through the jails ! -",*•' Bleft, have I brow-beaten each thief and ftrumpet, And blajled on them, like the laft day's trumpet. I know no paltry weaknefs of the foul — No fniv'ling pity dares my deeds control — Afhani'd, the weaknefs ol my King I hear ; Who, childifli, drops on ev'ry death * a tear. * Such is the rep.ort concerning his mojl tender-hearted Majesty, when he fuffers the law to take its courfe on criminals. How unlike the Great Frederic of Pruiiia, who delights in a hanging. H Return L 30 ] Return *, return again, thou glorious hour, That to my grafp once gav'ft my idol, pow'r ; When at my feet the humble knaves would fall ; The thund''ring "Jupiter of Hicks's Hall. The Knight^ thus finifliing his fpeech {o fair. Sleep pull'd him gently backwards in his chair ; Op'd wide the mouth that oft on jail -birds fwore. Then rais'd his nafal O R G A N to a roar, That actually furpafs'd in tone and grace^ The grumbled ditties of his fav'rite bafe f . * Sir John wifhes in vain— His hour of infolence returns no more ! t The violoncello, on which the Knight is a performer. ECLOGUE [ 3' J ECLOGUE. P A Pv. T II. iNl OW from his fleep the Knight, affrighted, fprung,. Whilft on his ear the words of Johnson rung; For lo ! in dreams, the furly Rambler rofe. And wildly flaring, feem'd a man of woes. '' Wake, Hawkins," (growl'd the Dod:or, with a frown) *' And knock that fellow and that woman down — *' Bid them with Johnson's life proceed no further — ■ *' Enough already they have dealt in murther — ** Say, to their tales that little truth belongs — *' li fame they mean me — bid them hold their tongues, ** In vain at glory gudgeon Boswell fnaps — ^ *' His mind, z. paper kite — compos 'd oi f craps % *' Juft o'er the tops of chimneys form'd to fly \ ** Not wir'r i wing fuhlime to mount the Jky,. *« Say; [ 3^ ] ** Say to the dog, his head's a downright drum, " Unequal to the Hift'ry of Tom Thumb ; " Nay — tell, of anecdote, that thirfty leech, " He is not equal to a Tyburn Speech*. *' For that Piozzi's wife, Sir John, exhort her, ^' ^o d'raw ]iQr i;/n?iortal/ty ii'oiw p07'ter ; " Give up her miecdotical inditing, " And ftudy houfewifery inftead of writing : " Bid her a poor biography fufpend ; " Nor crucify, through v^anity, a friend. *' I know no bufinefs women have with /earning ; *' I fcorn, I hate the mole-ey'd half difcerning ; " Their wit but ferves a hufband's heart to racj^ ; " And make eternal horfewhips for his back. *' Tell Peter Pindar, fliould you chance to meet him, " I like his genius fhould be glad to greet him * Compofed for die unfortunate l^rave of Newgate, by different liiftorians. " Yet I 33 ] . *' Yet let him know, crown d heads are facred things, " And bid him rev'rence more the ^efi of kings * ; ' • " Still on his pegafus Qox\t\x\.\\Q. jogging^ _ *' And give that Boswell's back another flogging." Such was the dream that wak'd the fleeping Knight, And op'd again his eyes upon the light Who, mindlefs of old Johnson and his frown, And ftern commands to knoch. the couple down^ Refoiv'd to keep the peace and, in a tone ' ' Not much unlike a maftiif o'er a bone, He gnanhledy that, enabled by the nap, He now could meet more biographic fcrap J * This is a Jlrange and almofl incredible fpeech from Johnfoni, mouth, as not many years ago, when the age of a certain great personage became the fubjeft of debate, the Doctor broke in upon the convcrfatiou with tlie following qvieftion : — " Of what importance to the prefent " company is his age? — Of what importance would it have been to the " world if he had never cxijied?'''' If we may judge likewife from the following fpecci?, he deemed the prefent pojjeffhr of a certain throne as much an ufurpcr as King William, whom, according to Mr. Bos- well's account, ht hefcoundrels. The ftory is this — An acquaintance •jf Johnson's alked him if he could iwl Jing. lie replied, " I know '' l-.ut one fong ; and that is, ' The King (hall enjoy his ow// again." I Then [ 34 ] Then nodding with a inagijiratial air, To farther anecdote he call'd th^fair. MADAME P I O Z Z I *. Dear Doctor Johnson lo/'d a leg of pork. And hearty on it won'd his grinders work : He Hk'd to eat it fo much over-do?iey That one might ^jake the flefli from off the bone. A veal pye too, with fugar cramm'd and plums, Was wond'rous grateful to the Doctor's gums. Though us'd from morn to night on fruit to fiuff-, He vow'd his belly never had enough. B O Z Z Yt- One Thurfday morn did Doctor Johnson wake, And call out " Lanky, Lanky," by mijiake But recolledling — '^ Bozzy, Bozzy," cried For in contraSiions Johnson took 2i pride ! * Page 8. f Page 384; MADAME i 35 ) :- M A D A xM E P i O Z Z I*. . . Whene'er our friend would read in bed by night, Poor Mr. Thrale and I were in ^fright ; For blinking on his book too near the flame, Lo ! to the fore-top of his wig it came ! Burnt all the hairs away, both great and fiJiall^ Down to the very net-work^ named the caul. ' ' B O Z Z Yf. At Corrachatachin's, in hoggifm funk, I got with punch, alas ! confounded drunk : Much was I vex'd that I could not be quiet, But, like a ftupid blockhead, breed a riot I fcarcely knew how 'twas I reel'd to bed Next morn I wak'd with dreadful pains of head. And terrors too, that of my peace did rob 7ne For much I fear'd the Moraliji would 7nob fne. But as I lay along a heavy log, The Dodtor, ent'ring, call'd me drwiken dog, * Page 237. t Page 317. Then: [ 3^ J Then up rofe I with apoflolic an*, And read in Dame M'Kinnon's book of pray'r, In hopes for hich a fin to be forgiv'n, And make, if pojftble^ my peace with heav'n. ""Tw^L^ Jl^'ange that in that volume of divinity, I op'd the Twentieth Sunday after Trinity, And read thefe words — ' Pray be not drunk with wine, ' Since drunkennefs doth make a man ^ifwineS " Alas !" fays I, " the Unner that I am !" And having made my fpeech," I took a dram. MADAME P I O Z Z I*. One day, with fpirits low, and forrow hil'd, I told him that I had a cotifi7i kilFd : " My dear," quoth he, " for heav'n's fake hold your cantmg\ " Were all your coufms kilfd, they'd not be wa72ting\ ** Though Death on each of them fliould fet his marli\ " Though ev'ry one were fpitted like a lark ; * Page 63. (( Roafted [ 31 ] ** Roafted, and giv'n that dog there for a meal, " The lofs of them the world would never feel " Triift me, dear Madam, all your dear relations' *' Are nits are nothings in the eye oi iiations."" Again*, fays I, one day, *' I do believe, " A good acquaintance that I have \n\S\. grieve " To hear her friend hath loft a la?'ge ejlate.'"'' — - '* Yes," anfwer'd he, " lament as ?nuch her fate^ " As did your horfe (I freely will allow) " To hear of the mifcarriage of your cow.'''' B O Z Z Yf. At Enoch, at M'Qusen's, we went to bed ; A colour'd handkerchief wrapp'd Johnson's head ; He faid, " God blefs us both — good night ;" and then, , /, V\k.Q 2i pariJJj clerk y pronounc'd ^;;;^;2 / My good companion yciow by fleep was feiz'd But I, by lice and fleas was fadly teiz'd ; ' * Page 189. + Page 103. K Methought [ 38 ] Methought a fpider with terrific claws, Was ftriding from the wainfcot to my jaws ; But {lumber foon did ev'ry fenfe entrap, And fo I funk into th&fweetejl nap. MADAME P I O Z Z I *. Trav'ling in Wales, at dinner-time we got on Where, at Leweny, lives Sir Robert Cotton. At table, our great Moralijl to pleafe, Says I, " Dear Doftor, arn't thofe charming peas? '* Quoth he, to contradiB^ and run his rig, " Madam, they poflibly might pleafe a //g-." B O Z Z Y t. Oi thatching, well the Dodor knew the art; And with his threJJjing wifdom made us ftart : Defcrib'd the greateft fecrets of the Mint, And made folks fancy that he had been int. * Page 70. t Page 324. Of [ 39 ] Of hops and malt 'tis wond'rous what he knew ; And well as any brewe?' he could b7'ew. MADAME P I O Z Z I *. In ghojis the Dodtor ftroi^gly did believe, And pinn'd his faith on may a lyar's fleeve He faid to Do6lor Lawrence, " Sure I am, *' I heard my poor dear mother call out ' Sam.' " Tm fure," faid he, " that I can truft my ears ; " And yet, my mother had been dead for years." B O Z Z Yt. When youngs ('twas rather filly 1 allow) Much was I pleas'd to imitate a cow. One time, at Drury Lane, with Do6lor Blair, My imitations made the playhoufe Jlare I So very charming was I in my roar^ That both the galleries clapf d^ and cried " Eficore,''.'' Bleft by the general plaudit and the laugh I try'd to be 2.jachafs and a calf-y * Page 192. + Page 499» Biit: [ 40 ] But who, alas ! in all thijtgs can be great ^ In fliortj I met a te7'rible defeat ; So vile I bray'd and bellow'd, I was hifs'd— Yet all who knew me, 'uuonder d that I mifs'd. Blair whifper'd me, " You've loft your credit 7101s:) \ " Stick, BoswELL, for the future, to the Cow." MADAME P I O Z Z I *. Th' affair of Blacks when Johnson would difcufs. He always thought they had not fouls like us ; And yet, whene'er his family would fight, He always faid black Frank f was in the right. B O Z Z Yj. I muft confefs that I enjoy'd a pleafure In bearing to the North fo great a treafure- Thinks I, I'm like a Bulldog or a Hou?tdy Who, when a lump of liver he hath found, V * Page 212. f The Dodtor's man fervant. + Page 259. Runs [ 4r ] Runs to fome corner, to avoid a riot, To gobble down his piece of meat in quiet : I thought this good as all Joe Millar's jokes ; And (o I up, and told it to the folks. MADAME P I O Z Z I *. - Some of our friends wiih'd Johnson would compofe The Lives of authors who had flione in profe ; As for his pow^r, no mortal man could doubt it — Sir Richard MusGRAVE, he was w^r;/? about it ; Got up, and footh'd, intreated, begg'd and pray'd, Poor man ! as if he had implor'd for bread. " Sir Richard," cried the Do6lor, with a frown, " Since you're got up^ I pray you, Sir, ft dow?ty ._ B o z z Y. : • . r of Dodtor Johnson, having giv'n a fketch. Permit me, Reader, of myfelf.^ to preach The world will certainly receive with glee, The flighteft bit of hiftory of me. * Page 295. L • Think [ 43 J Think of a ge?ttlejnan of ancient blood ! Prouder of title than ol being good • A ge7itlema?i juft thirty-three years old ; Married four years, and as a Tyger bold ; Whofe bowels yearn'd Great Britain s, foes to tame. And from the cannon's mouth to fwallow flame ; To get his limbs by broad fwords carv'd in wars, Like fome old bedftead, and to boaji his fears ; And, proud immortal adlions to atchieve. See his hide bor'd by bullets like a fieve. But lo ! his father, a 'well-judgi?tg Judge, Forbade his fon from Edinburgh to budge Refolv'd the French fhould not his b — {ide claw ; So bound his fon apprentice to the law. T'his ge7itleman had been in foreign parts, And, like Ulysses, learnt a world of arts : Much wifdom his vaft travels having brought him, He was aot half the fool the people thought him Of prudence, this fafne gentleman was fuchy He rather had too little than too niuch„ Bright [ 43 ] Bright was this ge7itleman % imagination, Well calculated for the highefi ftation : Indeed fo lively^ give the dev'l his due, He ten times m.ore would utter than was true ; Which forc'd him frequently, againft his will, Poor man ! to fwallow many a bitter pill; One bitter pill among the reft he took. Which was to cut fome fcmidal from his book.- By Dodlor Johnson he is well portray'd : — Quoth Sam, " Of Bozzy it may well be laid. That through the moft inhofpitable fcene. One never can be troubl'd with the fpleen, . Nor ev'n the greateft difficulties chafe at^ Whiift Juch a7i animal is near to laugh at. -'■ MADAME P I O Z Z I*. For me.y in Latin, Doctor Johnson wrote Two lines upon Sir Joseph Banks's goat ; * Page 72. »» ■• 1.. A 9 oat ! [ 44 1 A goat ! that round the world fo curious went — A goat ! that now eats grafs that grows in Kent ! B O Z Z Y* To Lord MoNBODDO a few lines I wrote, And by the fervant, Jofeph, fent this note— '* Thus far, my Lord, from Edinburgh, my home, *' With Mr. Samuel Johnson, I am come ** This night, by us, mull certainly be feen, " The very handfome town of Aberdeen. " For thoughts of Johnson, you'll be not applied to " I know your Lordlhip likes him lefs than / do. " So near we are — to part, I can't tell how, " Without fo much as making him a how : " Belides, the Ra7?tbler fays, to fee Monbodd, *' He'd go at Icajl two ?mles out of his road. * Page 207. " Which [ 45 ] " Which fhows that he admires (whoever rails) " The pen which proves that men are born with tails ; " Hoping that as to health your Lordlliip does well, " I am your fervant at command ,^ " JAMES BOSWELL." iM A D A AI E P I O Z Z I*. On Mr. Thb ale's old hunter Johnson rode, Who w'lxh. prodigious pride the beaft beftrode ; And as on Brighton Downs he daJJfd away. Much was he pleas'd to hear a fportfman fay. That at a chace he was as ticrht a hand " As e'er a fporting lubber in the land. B O Z Z Yt. One morning Johnson, on the lUe of Mull, Was of his politics exceflive full : Quoth he, " That Pulteney was a rogue 'tis plain — - " Befides, the fellow was a />^y6/g- Z;^ ^r«/Vz." *Page 207. i-Piig'- 424- . M ' Then [ 46 ] Then to his principles he gave a banging, And fwore no Whig was ever worth a hanging. " 'Tis wonderful," fays he, " and makes one ftare, *' To think the livery chofe John Wilkes Lord Mayr \ " A dog, of whom the world conld nurfe no hopes " Proijnpt to debauch their girls, and rob their fhops." MADAME P I O Z Z I. Sir, I believe that anecdote a lie; But grant that Johnson faid it — by the by^ As Wilkes unhappily youv friendJJjip fhar'd. The dirty anecdote might well b^fpard, B O Z Z Y. Madam, I ftick to truth as much 2i^you, And damme if the ftory be not t?-ue. What you have faid of Johnson and the larks. As much the Rafftbler for a favage marks. *Twas [ 47 ] 'Twas fcandalous, ev'n Ca7idou}\vm.\{!t allo'-.v, To give the hift'ry of the horfe and cow : What but an e?iemy to Johnson's fame, Dar'd his vile prank at 'Litcwyiy.lv) play houfe nainef Where, without ceremony, he though fit To fling the jna7i and chair into the pit Who would have regifler'd a fpeech fo odd ' On the dead Stay-maker^' and Doctor Dodd ? MADAME P I O Z Z I. Sam Johnson's threjijing knowledge and his thatching. May be your own inimitable hatching Pray of his wifdom can't you tell more news ? Could not he make a JJjirt-, and cobble JJjoes^ Knit ftockings, or, ingenious, take up Jlitches Draw teeth, drefs wigs, or make a pair of breeches ? You prate too of his knowledge of the Mint, As if the Rambler really had been in't ■ * Piozzl's Anecdotes, P. 51, fir ft edition. Who. [ 48 ] Who knows, but you will tell us, (truth forfaking) That each bad Pdillmg is of Johnson's making \ His^ each vile fixpence that the world hath cheated- And hisy the art that ev'ry guinea fweated. About his brewi7tg hiowledge you will prate too, Who {carcely knew a hop from a potatoe And though of beer he joy'd in hearty fwigs, rd pit againft his tafte my hufband's pigs. B O Z Z Y. How could your folly tell, fo void of truth, That miferable ftory of the youth, Who, in your book, of Dodor Johnson begs Mod ferioufly to know if cats laid eggs ! M A D A M E P I O Z Z I. Who told of Mrs. Montague the lie So palpable a falfehood ?— Bozzy, fy I B O Z Z Y. [ 49 ] B O Z Z Y. TVho^ mad'ning with an anecdotic itch, Declar'd that Johnson call'd his mother b-tch f M A D A M E P I O Z Z I. Who^ from M 'Donald's rage to fave his fnout, Cut twenty Hnes of defamation out ? B O Z Z Y. \ . Who would have faid a word about Sam's nsoig'. Or told the ftory of the ^^^^ and j&/^ <* •' Who would have told a tale fo very flat, Of Frank the Black, and Hodge the mangy cat? MADAME P I O Z Z I. Good me ! you're grown at once confounded tender Of Doctor Johnson's fame "2^ fierce defender: I'm fure you've mention'd many a pretty ftory Not much redounding to the Dodor's glory. N Now [ 50 ] Noiio for ^ faint upon us you would palm him Firft murder the poor man, and then embalm him ! B O Z Z Y. Why truly, Madam, Johnson cannot boaji — By your acquaintance, he hath rather loft. His charafter fo fliockingly you handle You've funk your OQmet to a farthing candle. Your vanities contriv'd the lage to hitch in, And brib'd him with your cellar and your kitchen ; But lucklefs Johnson play'd a loUng game Though beef and beer he won — he loft his fame. MADAME P I O Z Z I. One quarter of your book had Johnson read, Fift-criticifm had rattl'd round your head. Yet let my fatire not too far purfue It boafts fome merit^ give the Dev'l his due. Where Grocers and where Pafiry-cooks refide. Thy book, with triumph, may indulge its pride ; Preach [ 51 ] Preach to the patty-pajjs fententious ftiiff- And hug that idol of the nofe, call'd fntiff : With all its ftories cloves and ginger pleafe, And pour its wofiders to a pound of cheefe ! B O Z Z Y. Madam, your irony is it'ondrous Jifie ! Senfe in each thought, and -wii in ev'ry line ; Yet, Madam, when the leaves of my poor book, Viiit the Grocer, or the Paftry-cook, Yours, to enjoy of Fame xhc juji reward, May aid the trunk-maker of Paul's Church Yard ; In the fame alehoufes together us'd, By the fa?ne fingers they may be amus' d Th.Q *♦ In native impudence fo rich (( Explain the plaineft things away, *' And call his mufe a forward b ; Treat fire of friendly promifes as fmoke, And laugh at truth and honour as a joke : " Such, Sir, is your good people's howl, As thick as fmall-birds peftering a poor owl. In vain I tell the world around,- That I have not a penfion found ; Which fpeech of fimple truth the mob enrages ; " Peter, this is an arrant lie " The fad is clear, too clear," they cry " Thou haft already touch'' d a quarter's wages. E " Varlet, [ H J " Varkt, it always was thy vile intention " Thou haft, tlioii haft, thou liar! got a penfion " Still, to fuppoft my innocence, I've faid, Moft finfully, I own — "I han't, by G — : " Yet, had I fworn n-y eyes out of my head, They never had believ'd How vaftly odd ! The morning and the evening papers, Struck by the found, are in the vapours, And mourn and droop, to think I'm dead Stunn'd by the unexpeAed news, The Magazines and the Reviews For grief can fcarcely lift the head. '* Nothing but poor, mechanic ftuff," they cry, *' Shall now be quoted for the public eye ; — — ' ' Nothing original in fong " No novelty of images and thought '' Before our fair Tribunal fhall be brought ! " But trifling tranfpofitions of our tongue : " Nought [ -5 ] " Nought but a folemn pomp of words, " Bearing a lifelefs thought, fliall readers meet — " The pidture of a funeral that affords ; " So folemn marchino; throug;h the ftarino; ftreet : ** Where flags, and horfe, and foot, a forrow ape, " With all the dread difmality of crape, " Near the poor corpfe perhaps a puny brat, •' Or dry old maid, as meagre as a cat. " No, Sir ! you never offer'd me a penfion ■ But then I guefs it is your kind intention Yes, Sir, you mean a fmall douceur to proffer ; But give me leave. Sir, to decline the offer. ,' I'm much oblig'd t'ye, Sir, for your good will ; But Oratorios have half undone ye : 'Tis whifper'd, too, that thieves have robb'd the Till Which kept your milk and butter money. So [ I6 ] So much with faving wifdom are you taken, Drury and Covent Garden feem forfaken Since cojl attendeth thofe theatric borders, Content you go to Richmond House with orders. Form'd to dehght all eyes, all hearts engage, When lately the fweet Princess* came of age, frain oil inftead of wax was bid t' illume The goodly company and dancing room 1 This never had been done, I'm very fure, Had not you been, fo?ne way or other, poor. You now want guineas to buy live ftock. Sir, To graze your Windfor hill and vale ; And farmers will not let their cattle ftir. Until the money's down upon the nail.' I'm told your fheep have dy'd by dogs and bitches, And that your fowls have fuffer'd by the fitchews ; Princcfs Royal. And [ ^7 ] And that your man-traps, guards of goofe and duck, And cocks and hens, have had but fo fo luck. Scarce fifty rogues, in chafe of fowls and eggs, Have in thofe loving engines loft their legs. The bulfe, Sir, on a vifit to the Tow*r, Hovve'er the Royal Vifage may look four, Howe'er an objed of a deep devotion, Muft crofs once more the eaftern Ocean ! Indeed I hope the di'monds will be off^ Or fcandal on us rolls in floods — — Some Nabob may be vile enough To bring an ad:ion for ftol'n goods An adion, to fpeak lawyer-like, of 'Trover \ And Heav'n forbid it fhould come over ! For money matters, I am fure, The Abbey mufic was put off; Becaufe the Royal purfe is poor, Plagu'd with a dry confumptive cough ; Yet [ i8 ] Yet in full health again that pune may riot, By God's grace, and a fkim-railk diet. Clofe as a vice behold the nation's fifl 1 Vain will be mouths made up for Civil Lift ; And, humble pray'rs, (o very ftale, Will all be call'd an old wife's tale. Your faithful Commons to your cravings Will not give up the nation's favings Your fav'rite minifter, I'm told, runs rejliff^ And growls at fuch petitions like a maftiff. What \i 77iy good friend Hastings goes to pot ? Adams and Anstruther have flung hard ftones He finds his fituation rather hot Burke, Fox, and Sheridan, may break his bones. As furely as we faw and felt the bulfe, Haftings hath got a very awkward pulfe j Therefore [ ^9 ] Therefore in jeopardy the culprit ftands ! Like patients whofe diforders do " Tou give the harmlefs mutton a bad name f " You impudently order it away ! " i5Wj/ Mafter Alderman, don't make this rout : " Clap on your fpe fay — Peter giveth a beautiful example of Ode-writing. THE CONTENTS OF THE ODE. His Majefys love for the arts and fciences even in quadrupeds -— His refolution to know the hijlory of brewing beer — Billy Ramus fent ambajfador to Chifwell Street — Interview between Meffieiirs Ramus and Whitbread— Air. Whitbread' s bow and cojnplimenfs to Majefiy — Mr. Ramus' return from ■ his cmbajy — Mr. Whitbread' s terrors defcribed to Majefiy by Mr. Ramus The King's pleafure thereat — Defcriplion of people of worfinp — Account of the JVhitbread preparation — The royal cavalcade to Chif%vell Street — The arrival at the brewhoufe — Great joy of Mr. Whitbread — His Majefiy' s nod, . the ^teen's dip, and a mmiber of quefiions — A IFefi-India fimile — The mar- veilings of the draymen defcribed — His Majefiy peepeth into a pump — Beauti- fully compared to a magpie peeping into a marroiv bone — The minute curiofity ■ of the King — Mr. Whitbread endeavour eth to furprize Majefiy — His Majefiy puzzleth Mr. Whitbread— Mr. Whitbread' s horfe exprejfeth wonder — Afo Mr. Whitbread' s dog — His Majefiy meketh laudable inquiry about porter Again puzzleth Mr. Whitbread — The King noteth notable things — Profound ^cefiions propefed by Majefiy — As profoundly anfwerd by Mr. Whitbread — Majef.y C i^ ) :Mqjefty in a tmJluke'^Con'c^ed by the bre^ver — A nofe {imxU-^MajeJiy^s aam'iration of the hell — Good mamiers of the bell — Fine appearance cf Mr. irhitbread's pigs-^Majefty propofeth quefiions^ but benevolently ijcaiteth not for anfwers — Peter tclleth the duty of Kings — Difcovereth one of his Jl:retvd maxims — Sublime S\m\\e of a ivat erf pout and a King — The great ufe of afking nueJ}io?is — T'he habitation of 'Truth — The collation — The wonders performed by the royal viftors — Majefy propofeth to take leave — Offer eth knighthood to Mr. IVhitbread-'^Mr. JVhitbread's objeSi ions— -The King runneth a rig en his hojl — Mr. Whithread thanketh Majefy ^ — Mifs IFhi thread cur tf eth — The ^leen dippeth—The cavalcade departeth. , Peter trumpheth- — Admonifeth the Laureat — Peter croweth over the Laureat — Difcovereth deep knowledge of Kings, and furgeons, and men who have lof their legs—Peter reafoneth — Vaunt eth — "Even injulteth the Laureat ' — Peter proclahneth his peaceable difpoftion-—Praifeth Majefy ^ and concludeth ivith.a prayer for curious Kings. INSTRUCTIONS [ I ] INSTRUCTIONS, &C. &C. J- O M, foon as e'er thou ftrik'ft thy golden lyre, Thy brother Peter's mufe is all on fire, To fing of Kings and Queens, and fucli rare folk ; Yet midft thy heap of compliments fo fine, Say, may we venture to believe a line ? You Oxford w^its moft dearly love a joke. Son of the Nine, thou writeft well on nottght — Thy thund'ring ftanza, and its pompous thought, I think muft put a dog into a laugh : ' Edward and Harry were much braver men Than this new chrift'ned hero of thy pen ; Yes, laureird odeman, braver far, by half. B Thcuah [ ^ ] Though on Blackheath, and Wimbledon's wide plain» George keeps his hat off in a fhow'r of rain ; Sees fwords and bayonets without a dread. Nor at a volley winks, nor ducks his head. Although at grand reviews he feems fo bleft. And leaves at fix o'clock his downy ncft, Dead to the charms of blanket, wife, or bolfters j Unlike his officers, who fond of cramming. And at reviews, afraid of thirfl and famine. With bread and cheefe and brandy fill their holfters. Sure, Tom, we fhould do juftice to Queen Befs j His prefent Majefty, whom Heaven long blefs With wifdom, wit, and arts of choiceft quality. Will never get, I fear, fo fine a niche As that old Queen, though often call'd old b--ch. In Fame's coloffal houfe of immortality. As for John Dryden's Charles — that King, Indeed, was never any mighty thing He [ 1 He merited few honours from the pen- And yet he was a dev'liOi hearty fellow, Enjoy'd his girl and bottle — and got mellow And i7iind — kept company with GENTLEMEN, For, like fome kings, in hobby grooms, Knights of the manger, currycombs, and brooms. Loft to all glory, Charles did not delight Nor jok'd by day with pages, fervant maids. Large, red-poll'd, blowzy, hard two-handed jades : Indeed I know not what Charles did by night. Reader, I am of Candour a great lover, In fliort, I'm Candour's felf all over, Sweet as a candied cake from top to toe, Make it a rule that Virtue fhall be prais'd. And humble Merit from her bum be rais'd : What thinkeft thou of Peter now ? Thou crieft *' Oh 1 how falfe ! behold thy King, *' Of whom thou fcarcely fay'ft a handfome thing ; (( Thcit [ 4 ] '•' That King hath virtues that fhould make you ft are,"' Is it fo? — then the fin's mme — 'Tis my vile optics that can't fee — Tiien pray for them when next thou fay'ft a pray'r. But p'rhaps aloft on his imperial throne. So diftant, Oh ! ye gods, from evVy one ; The royal virtues are, like many a ftar*, From this our pigmy fyftem rather far ; Whofe light, tho' flying ever fince creation. Hath not yet pitch'd upon our nation. Then may the royal ray be foon explor'd- And, Thomas, if thou'lt fwear thou art not hummino;, I'll take my fpyiiig-glafs, and bring thee word The inftant I behold it comins;. But, Thomas Warton, without joking, Art thou, or art thou notf thy Sov'reign fmoking ? * Such was the fublhue opinion of the Dutch ailronomer Huygens. How [ 5 ] How can'fl thoy ferloiifly declare That George the Third With Crefly's Edward can compare, Or Harry ? 'tis too bad, upon my word. George is a clever King, I needs miift own, And cuts a jolly figure on the throne. Now thou exclaimfl; " G-d rot it, Peter, pray, *' What to the devil fliall I fing or fay ? " I'll tell thee -.d^at to fay, Oh I tuneful Tom- Sing how a Monarch, when his fjn was dying. His gracious eyes and ears was edifying, By Abbey company, and kettle drum : Leaving that fon to death and the phyfician. Between two fires — a forlorn-hope condition j Two poachers, who make man their game. And, fpecial markfmen ! H-ldom mifs their aim. C Say [ 6 ] Say, though the Monarch did not fee his fon, He kept aloof through fatherly efiedion — Determin'd nothing £hould be done To bring on ufelefs tears and difmal recollection* For what can tears avail, and piteous fighs ? Death heeds not howls nor dripping eyes : And what are fighs and tears but wind and water. That £how the leakynefs of feeble nature ! Reader, thou'lt with my fimile not quarrel : Like air and any fort of drink. Whizzing and oozing through each chink, That prove the weaknefs of the barrel. Say for the Prince, when wet was ev'ry eye. And thoufands pour'd to Heav'n the pitying Ugli Devout ; Say how a King, unable to diffemble, Order'd the Siddons to his houfe, and KemblEj To fpout : Gave them ice creams and wines, fo dear ! — — Who [ 7 ] Who ne'er could get till theii^ a thirnblefiill of bze?' For which they've thank'd the author of this metre, VideUcit^ the moral-mender Peter, Who in his Ode on Ode did dare exclaim, And call fuch royal avarice a fliame. Say but I'll teach thee hoiD to fay an ode, Thus fhall thy labours vifit Fame's abode In company with my immortal lay — — And look, Tom thus I fire away— BIRTH- I 8 ] BIRTH-DAY ODE. THIS day, this very day, gave birtli Not to the b?'tghle/i Monarch upon earth, Becaufe there are fome brighter, and as big- Who love the arts that man exalt to Heav'n — George loves them Hkewife when they're given To four-legg'd gentry, chrift'ned dog and pig *, V/hofe adts in this our unenlight'ned nation Have much improv'd the Britifli education. Full of the art of brewing beer. The Monarch heard of Mr. Whitbread's famct. Quoth he one day unto the Queen, " My dear, *' Whitbread hath got a marvellous great name; •' Shame, fliame, we have not yet liis brewhoufe feen ! " Thus faid the King unto the Queen. l^ed hot with novelty's delightful rage, To Mr. Whitbread forth he fent a page, * The dancing dogs and wife pig have formed a confiderable part of ■the royal amufement. To t 9 ] To fay, That Majesty propos'd to view, With thirft of knowledge deep inflam'd, His vats, and tubs, and hops, and hogfheads fam'd, And learn the noble fecret how to h'ew. Of fuch unthought-of honour proud, Mofl lowly Mr. Whitbread bow'd; . ' • So hu77ibly^ (fo the humble ftory goes,) ' . He touch'd ev'n /^rr/3;^r;;/^ with his nofe; Then faid unto the page, hight Billy Ramus, Happy are we that our great King fhould name us As Vv^orthy unto Majefty to fhew How very dext'roully we brew. Away fprung Billy Ramus quick as thought: To Majefty the welcome tidings brought; Then told how Whitbread ftar'd like any ftake, And trembled — then the civil things he faid — On which the King did fmile and nod his head ; For Monarchs love to fee their fubjecls quake: D Such [ 10 ] Such Iiorrors unto Kings moft pleafant are, Proclaiming rev'rence and humility — High thoughts, too, all thofe fhaking fits declare; Of kingly grandeur and great capabiHty ! People of worfhip, wealth, and birth. Look on the humbler fons of earth. Indeed, in a moft humble light, God knows t High ftations are like Dover's tovv'ring cliiTs, Where fhips below appear like little fkiffs. The people walking on the ftrand, like crows. ~ Mufe, fing the ftir that Mr. Whitbread made ; Poor gentleman, moft terribly afraid He fliould not charm enough his guefts divine : His maids had all new aprons, gowns, and fmocks; And lo ! two hundred pounds were fpent in frocks To make th' apprentices and draymen Ji?ie. Bufy as horfes in a field of clover. Dogs, cats, and chairs, and flools, were tumbled over, Amidfl C " J Amidft the Whitbread-rout of preparation To treat the lofty Ruler of the nation. Now mov'd King, Queen, and Princesses (o grand, To vilit the firft brewer in the land — Who fometimes drank his beer and munch' d his meat In a fnug corner chriflen'd Chifwell Street. . Lord Aylesbury, and Denbigh's Lord alfo. His Grace the Duke of Montague like-wife , With Lady Harcourt, join'd the rareeJJjow, And fix'd all Smithfield's marv'ling eyeS' — For lo ! a greater fhow ne'er grac'd thofe quarters^ Since Mary roafted, juft like crabs, the martyrs. . . Arriv'd, the King broad grinn'd, and gave a nod To Mr. Whitbread, who had God Come with his angels to behold his beer. With more refpedl he never could have met Indeed the man was in a fweat. So much the Brewer did the King revere. Her Her Majesty contriv'd to make a dip — Light as a feather then the King did fkip, And aik'd a thouflind queflions, with a laugh, Before poor Whitbread well could anfwer half. Reader! my Ode fhould have 2.fimih — Well! in Jamaica, on a tam'rind tree, Five hundred parrots, gabbling juft like Jews, I faw — fuch noife the feather'd imps did make As made my pertcra7iiu7}i ake — Afking and telling parrot news. Thus was the brewhoufe fiU'd with gabbling noife, Whilft draymen and the brewer's boys Did eat the queflions which the King did afk: In dilFrent parties were they flaring feen, Wond'ring to think they faw a King and Queen ; Beliind a tub were fome, and fome behind a cafk. Some [ n ] Some draymen forc'd themfelves (a pretty luncheon) Into tlie mouths of many a gaping puncheon, And through the bung-hole wink'd with Curious eye, To view, and be afTur'd what fort of things Were PrincefTes, and Queens, and Kings ; For whofe moft lofty ftation thoufinds iigh! And lo ! of all the gaping puncheon clan, Few were the mouths that had not got a man! Now Majefty into a pump fo deep Did with an opera glafs of Dollaxd peep, Examining with care each wond'rous matter That brought up water — Thus have I feen a magpie in the flreet, A chatt'ring bird we often meet, A bird for curioflty well known, With head awry, And cumiing eye. Peep knowingly into a marrow-bone, E And [ '4 1 And now his curious M— — y did floop To count tHe nails on ev'ry hoop: And lo ! no fingle thing came in his way That, full of deep refearch, he did not fay, " What's this? haehse? what's that? what's this? what's that?*' So quick the words too, when he deign' d to fpeak, As if each fyllable would break its neck.- Thus to the world o^ great whilfl: others crawlj Our Sovereign peeps into the world o{ Jmall: Thus microfcopic geniufes explore Things that too oft provoke the public fconij Yet fwell of ufeful knowledges the ftore, By iinding fyftems in a pepper-corn. Now Mr. Whitbread, ferious, did declare; To make the Majefty of England ftare, That he had butts enow, he knew,, Plac'd fide by fide, would reach along to Kew: ^ On [ '5 ] On which the King, with wonder, fwiftlj cry'd, " What ? if they reach to Kew then, fide by fide, " What would they do plac'd end to end ? " To whom, with knitted calculating brow, The Man of Beer moft folemnly did vow, Almoft to Windfor that they would extend? On which the King with wondering mien, Repeated it unto the ^wofid'ring Queen:: On which, quick turning round his halter'd head. The brewer's horfe, with face aftonifh'd, neigh'd ; The brewer's dog, too, pour'd a note of thunder. Rattled his chain, and wagg'd his tail for wonder. Now did the King for other beers enquire. For Calvert's, Jordan's, Thrale's entire — ' And after talking of thefe difFrent beers, Afk'd Whitbread if /6/j porter equall'd //6^/W .^ ' V . ■ THE L O U S I A D CANTO THE FIRST. XHE louse I fing who, from Tome head unknown, Yet born and educated near a throne, Dropp'd down (To wili'd the dread decree ot Fate,) With legs wide fprawHng on the Monarch's plate : Far from the raptures of a wife's embrace. Far from the gambols of a tender race, Whofe little feet he taught with care to tread Amidft the wide dominions of the head ; Led them to daily food with fond delight, And taught the tiny wand'rers where to bite ; To hide, to run, advance, or turn their tails, When hoftile combs attack'd, or vengeful nails : Far [ 8 ] Far from thofe pleafing fcenes ordain'd to roam, Like wife Ulyfles, from his native home ; Yet, like that fage, though forc'd to roam and mourn — Like him, alas ! not fated to return ; Who, full of rags and glory, law his boy * And wife -f again, and dog X that dy'd for joy. Down dropp'd the lucklefs LOUSE, with fear appall 'd, xAnd wept his wife and children as he fprawl'd. Thus, on a promontory's mifty brow. The Poet's eye, with forrow, faw a cow Take leave abrupt of bullocks, goats, and fheep, By tumbling headlong down the dizzy fteep ; No more to reign a Queen amongft the cattle. And urge her rival beaux, the bulls, to battle; She fell ^, rememb'ring ev'ry roaring lover, With all her wild courants in fields of clover. * Telemachus. •f- Penelope. X Argus, for whofe hiftory, fee the Odjfley. € inoriens dulces remlnifcitur Arsos. Virg. Njow [ 9 ] Now on his legs, amidft a thoufand woes, The LOUSE; with judge-Ukc gravity, arofc : He wanted not a motive to entreat him, Befide the horror that the King might eat him The dread of gafping on the fatal fork, Stuck with a piece of mutton, beef, or pork ; Or drowning 'midfl: the fauce in difmal dumps, ; Was full enough to make him ftir his ftumps. Vain hope of ftealing imperceiv'd away ! He might as well have tarried where he lat. Seen was this LOUSli, us with che Royal brood Our hungry King amus'd himfelf with food ; Which proves (though fcarce believ'd by one in ten) That Kings have appetites like common men ; And that, like London Aldermen and Mayor, They feed on folids lefs refin'd than air. Paint, heav'nly mufe, the look, the -very look, That of the Sov'reign's face poffeflion took C When [ lo ] When firft he faw the LOUSE, in folemn ftate, Grave as a Spaniard, march acrofs the plate ! Yet, could a LOUSE a Britifli King furprife, And like a pair of faucers ftretch his eyes ? The little tenant of a mortal Head, Shake the great Ruler of three realms with Dread ? Good Lord ! (as Somebody fublimely fings,) What great effecls arife from little things I As many a loving fwain and nymph can tell, Who, following I^ture's law, have lov'd too well I Not with more horror did his eyes behold Charles Fox, that cunning enemy of old. When Triumph hung upon his plotting brains, And dear Prerogative was juft in chains : Not with more horror did his eye-balls work Convulfive on the patriotic Burke, When guilty of oeconomy, the crime ! Edmund wide wander 'd from the true fuhlime, And, [ ^^ ] And, cat-like, watchful of the flelh and fifh, Cribb'd from the Royal table many a di£h Saw ev'ry flice of bread and butter cut, Each apple told, and number'd ev'ry nut ; And gaug'd (compos'd upon no fneaking fcale) The Monarch's belly like a cafk of ale ; Convinc'd that, in his fcheme of ftate-falvation, To Jiarve^ the Palace, was to fave the Nation : Not more aghaft he look'd, when, 'midft the courle, He tumbled, in a flag-chafe, from his horfe. Where all his Nobles deem'd their Monarch dead ; But, luckily, he pitch'd upon his Head ! * His Majefty was really reduced fome time fince to a moft mortifying dilemma : the apples at dinner time having been, by too great liberality to the Royal children, expended, the King ordered a fupply, but was in- formed that the Board of Green Cloth would pofitively allow no more. Enraged at the unexpedled and unroyal difappointment, he fu- rioufly put his hand_into his pocket, took out fixpence, fent a Page for two pennyworth of pippins, and received the change. Not [ 12 ] Not Venison Eaters at the vanifli'd fat, V/ith ftoniachs wider than a Quaker's hat : Not with more horror Mr. Serjeant Pliant Looks down upon an empty-handed cHent : Not with more horror ftares t^ie rural MAID, By hopes, by fortunetellers, dreams, betray'd. Who fees her ticket a dire blank arife, Too fondly thought the twenty-thoufand prize, With which the fimple damfel meant, no doubt, To blefs her faithful fav'rite, Colin Clout. Not with more horror flares each lengthen'd feature. Of fome fine, fluttering, mincing Petit-maitre, When of a wanton chimney -fweeping wag The Beau's white veftment feels the footy bag : Not with more horror did the DEVIL look, When DUNSTAN by the nofe the daemon took, (As gravely fay our legendary fongs) And led him with a pair of red-hot tongs 5 Not V ■- . [ ^3 1 Not Lady WORSLEY, chaftc as manji a nun, Look'd with more horror at Sir Richard's fun, When rais'd on high to view her naked charms, He held the peeping Captain in his arms ; Like DAVID, that moft am'rous little dragon, Ogling fweet BETSHEBA- without a rag on : Not more the great SAM HOUSE * with horror flar'd, By mob affronted to the very beard ; Whofe impudence (enough to damn a jail) • ' . Snatch'd from his waving hand his Fox's tail, And fluff 'd it, 'midft his thunders of applaufe, . ' • ... Full in the center of Sam's gaping jaws, That forcing down his patriotic throat, Of " Fox and Freedom !" ftopp'd the glorious note. * In Weftminfter Hall, where t\\tfenfe (the Author was jufl; about to lay nonfenfe) of the people was to be taken on an ele^ftion. D Not [ H ] Not with more horror Billy Ramus * ftar'd. When Puff f, the Prince's hair-dreffer, appear'd Amid ft their eating room, with dread de{ign, To fit with Pages, and with Pages dine! Not with more horror Gloster's Dutchess ftar*d, When (bleft in metaphor !) the King declar'd, That not of all her mongrel breed, one whelf Should in the Royal kennel ever yelp : * Billy Ramus — emphatically and conflantly called by His Majefty B/7/v Ramus. One of the Pages who fhaves the Sovereign, airs his fhirts, reads to him, writes for him, and colledts anecdotes. ■f Puff, his Royal Hlghnefs's hair drefler, who attending him at Windfor, the Prince, with his ufual good nature, ordered him to dine with the Pages. -The pride of the Pages immediately took fire, and a petition was difpatched to the King and Prince, to be relieved from the dilT:refsful circumilance of dining with a ha/'r drejfer. The petition was treated with the proper contempt, and the Pages commanded to receive Mr. Puff into their mefs, or quit the table. With unfpeakable mortifi- cation Mr. Ramus and his hrtthxtn fubtnitted ', but, like the poor Gentoos who have loft thcir"C^?, have not held up their hcadsyf/^cf. Not I ^5 ] Not more that man Co fweet, fo unprepar'd, The gentle Squire of Leatherhead *, was fcar'd, When, after prayers fo good, and rare a fermon, He found his front attack"d by fierce Mifs VERNON; Who meant (Thaleftris-like, difdaining fear !) To pour her foot In thunder on his rear ; Who, in God's houfe f , without one grain of grace, Spit, like a VIXEN, in his Worship's face ; Then £hook her nails, as fiiarp's a taylor's {hears, That itch'd to fcrape acquaintance with his ears : . Not Atkinfon ^ with ftrongcr terror ftarted (Somewhat afraid, perchance, of being carted) * K ynaftou is the name of the gentleman aflailed by this furious Maid of Honour, for difapprobatipn of the lady as an acq^uaintance for his wife. -j- Verily in the House of the Lord, on the Lord's Day, In the year of our Lord 1785, in the Village of Leatherhead, in the County of Sur- ry, did this profaneyizfc^/aflault take place on t!ie phiz of Squire Ky- nafton, to the difgrace of his famllv, the wonder of the parfon, the liorrorof the clerk, and the flupefadtion of tlie congrrgaiion. l Mr. Chriftopher Atkiufoii's airing on the pillory Is fufFiciently known to the pubhc» Whea [ i6 ] V/heii Justice, a ily dame, one day thought fit To pay her ferious compHments to Kit ; Afk'd him a few fhort queftions about cor;?. And whifper'd, fhe believ'd he was for/worn ; Then hinted, that he probably would find, That though fhe fometimes wink'd, flie was not blind. Not more ASTURIAS' Prlncefs * look'd affright, At breakfaft, when her fpoufe, the unpolite, Hurl'd, madly heedlefs both of time and place, A cup of boiling coffee in her face ; Becaufe the fair one eat a butter'd roll, On which the felfifh Prince had fix'd his foul : Not more aftonilli'd look'd that Prince to find His royal father to his face unkind ; * This quarrel between the Prince of Aflurias and his Princefs, with the interference of the Spanifh Monarch, as defcribed here, Is not a poetic fidion, but an abibkite taft, that happened not many months ago. Who, [ ^7 ] Who, to the caufe of injur'd beauty Avon, Seiz'd on the proud Probofcis of his fon, (Juft Hke a tyger of the Lybian fhade, Whofe furious claws the helplefs deer invade,) And led him, till that fon its durance freed, By afking pardon for the brutal deed ; Led him thrice round the room (the ftory goes) Who follow'd with great gravity his nofe, Refolv'd at firft (for Spaniards are ftiff fluff) ,. To alk no pardon, though the fiiout came off ; Not more aftonifli'd look'd that Spanifh King*, Whene'er he mifs'd a fnipe upon the wing : * His Mofl Catholic Majefty's fhooting merits are unlverfally ac- knowledged. Though far advanced in years, he is ftill the admiration of his fubjefts, and the envy of liis brother Kings, as a Shot ; and it is well known, that even on thofe days when the Royal Robes are obliged to be worn, his breeches pockets arc fluffed with gun flints, fcrews, hammers, and other implements neceffiny for the deflrudion of Inipes, partridges, and wild pigs. E Not [ »8 ] Not more aftonifti'd look'd that King of Spain, To fee his gun-boats blazing on the main : Not Do6lor Johnfon more, to hear the tale Of vile Piozzi's marrying Mrs. Thrale; Nor Dodtor Wilfon, child of am'rous folly, When young Mac Clyfter bore off Kate Macaulay What dire emotions fhook the Monarch's foul I Juft like two billiard balls his eyes 'gan roll, Whilft anger all his Royal HEART pofTefs'd, That fwelling, wildly bump'd againft his breaft, Bounc'd at his ribs with all its might fo flout. As refolutely bent on jumping out, T' avenge', with all its pow'rs, the dire difgrace. And nobly fpit in the offender's face. Thus a large Dumpling to its cell confin'd, (A very apt allufion to my mind) * The fair Hiilonan, Lies [ 19 ] Lies fnug, until the water waxeth hot, Then buftles 'midft the tempeft of the pot : In vain ! — the lid keeps down the child of dough, That bouncing, tumbling, fweating, rolls below. *' Oh! deareft partner of my throne!" he cries, (Lifting to pitying Heav'n his piteous eyes) *' Thou brighteft gem of George's Royal Houfe, " Look there, and tell me if that's not a LOUSE ! " The Queen look'd down, and then exclaim'd, *' Good la 1 " And with a fmile the dappl'd stranger faw ; Each Princefs ftrain'd her lovely neck to fee, And, with another fmile, exclaim'd, " Good me ! " *' Good la ! Good me ! is that all you can fay ? " (Our gracious Monarch cry'd, with huge difmay.) What ! what a filly vacant fmile take place Upon your Majefly's and Children's face, *' Whilft that vile Louse (foon, foon to be unjointed !) " Affronts the prefence of the LORD's ANOINTED ! " Dafh'd, t( i( [ 20 ] Dafli'd, as if tax'd with Hell's mofl: deadly fins^ The Queen and Princefies drew in their chins, Look'd prim» and gave each exclamation o'er, And very prudent, ' wordfpake never more.'' Sweet Maids ! the beauteous boaft of Britain's ifle Speak — were thofe peerlefs lips forbid to fmile ? Lips ! that the foul of Umple Nature moves Form'd by the bounteous hands of all the Loves ! Lips of delight ! unftain'd by Satire's gall ! Lips ! that I never kifs'd — and never fliall. Now, to each trembling Page, as mute's a moufe, T]\t pious Monarch cried, " Is this your Louse ?" *' Ah! Sire," (replied each Page with pig-like -whine) ** An't pleafe your Majefty, it is not jnine.'''' ■*' Not thin^?" (the hafty Monarch cried agen) **■ What ? what? what? what? what? who the devil's then?" Now at this fad event the Sovereign, fore Unhappy, could not eat a mouthful more ; His [ -^ J His wifer Queen, her gracious ftoniacii ftudying, ^ Stuck mofl devoutly to the beef and pudding* For GER.\r.\xs arc a very licartv fort. Whether begot in Hog-fiyes or a Court, Who bear (which flicws their hearts are not of llone'^ The ills or others better than their own. Grim terror feiz'd the fouls of all the Pages, Of different Hzes, and of di-fierent ages ; •. Frighten'd about their penfions or their bones. They on each other gap'd like Jacob's fons 1 Now to a Page, but which we can't determine, The growling Monarch gave the plate and vermin : '* Watch well that blackguard animal," he cries, '* That foon or late, to glut my vengeance, dies ! " Watch, like a Cat, that vile marauding LOUSE, •' Or George fhall play the devil in the lioufe. F « Some [ 22 ] " Some Spirit whifpers, that to Cooks I owe '* The precious Visitor that crawls below; ♦' Yes, yes! the whifp'ring Spirit tells me true, " And foon fhall vengeance all their locks purfue. " Cooks, fcourers, fcullions too, with tails of pig, *' Shall lofe their coxcomb curls, and wear a wig." Thus roar'd the King not Hercules fo big ; And all the Palace echo'd " Wear a wig 1" Fear, like an ague, ftruck the pale-nos'd Cooks And dafh'd the beef and mutton from their looks ; Whilft: from each cheek the rofe withdrew its red, And Pity blubber'd o'er each menac'd head. 6ut lo ! the great Cook-major* comes ! his eyes Fierce as the redd'ning flame that roaJIs and fries ; His cheeks like Bladders, with high paffion glowing, Or like a fat Dutch Trumpeter's when blowing: * Diion. A n^at I --3 ] A neat white apron his huge corps embrac'd, Tied by two comely firings about his waift : An apron that he purchas'd with his riches, To guard from hoftile greafc his velvet brceches- An apron that, in Monmouth Street high hung, Oft to the winds with fvveet deportment fwung, " Ye fons of Dripping, on your Major look ! (In founds of deep-ton'd thunder cry'd the Cook) *' By this white apron, that no more can hope *' To join the piece in Mr. Inkle's £hop ; " That oft hath held the beft of Palace meat, '* And from this forehead wio'd the brinv fweat ; *' I fv/ear this head difdains to lofe its locks, " And thofe that do not, tell them they are Blocks : ♦' Whofe head, my Cooks, fuch vile difgrace endures ? *' Will it be yours, or yours, or yours, or yours ? *' Ten thoufand crawlers in that Head be hatch'd, " For ever itching, but be never fcratch'd. (( Then [ ^4 i •* Then may the charming pcrquifite orgtrnJc *' The Mammon of your pocket ne'er iiicrcak ; " Grcal'c ! that fo frequently hath brought you coin, " From Vca), Fori;, Mutton, and the Great Sir Loin. " O hrotJicrs of the fpit, be firm as rocks " Lo ! to no KivG on earth I yield thefe locks. " Few are my hairs behind, by age endear'd ! " Rut, few or many, they fhall not be fliear'd. " Sooner fliall Madam SCHWELLENBERG*, the jade, '' Yield up her fav'rite perquifites of trade, " Give up her facred Majefty's old gowns, " Caps, petticoats, and aprons, without frowns r " She ! who for ever ftudies mifchief — She ! " Who foon will be as bufy as a bee, " To get the liberty of locks enflav'd, *'' And ev'ry harmlefs cook and fcullion fhav'd t AIii]#?fs of thr Robes to Her Mtijefty. '' She, [ 25 ] " she, if by chance a British Servant Maid, ' :'" ** '' By fome infinuating tongue betray'd, '' " Induc'd the fair forbidden fruit to tafte, " Grows, lucklefs, fomevvhat bigger in the waift ; " Rants, ftorms, fwears, turns the penitent to door, " Grac'd with the pretty names of B— ch and W , " To range a proftitute upon the Town, " Or, if the weeping wretch think better, drown: " But, if a German Spider-brusher fails, ,■ ^ ,,• *. '-'■ Whofe nofe grows fharper, and whofe Hiape tells tales ; " Hufh'd is th' affair ! the Queen and She, good dame, " Both club their wits to hide the growing fhame; " To wed her, get fome fool 1 mean fome wife man; " Then dub the prudent Cuckold an Excifeman : ft " She! who hath got more infolence and pride, ' ' God mend her heart ! than half the world befide : , , " She! who, of guttling fond, ftuffs down more meat, *' Heav'n help her ftomach ! than ten men can eat I G " Ten [ 26 ] ** Ten men I — aye, more than ten, — the hungrj Hag ! — " Why, zoimds ! the woman's ftomach's like a bag: *< She I who will fvvell the uproar of the hoiife, *' And tell the King damn'd lies about the LOUSE i *' When probably that loufe (a vile old trull !) " Was born and nourifh'd in her awn gray fculL " Sooner the room ihall buxom Nanny * ^uif, *' Where oft £Iie charms her mafter \\'ith her wit ** Tells tales of ev'ry body, ev'ry thing, " From honeft courtiers to the thieves who fwing— — *^ Waits on her So v' reign while he reads difpatches, *' And wifely wifids up ftate affairs or watches : ** Sooner the Prince (may Heav'n his income mend !) ** Shall quit his bottle, miftrefs, or his friend " Laugh at the drop on Misery's languid eye, *' And hear her finking voice without a figh ; * Buxom N.mny — a female fervant of the Palace,, who conftantlv' a--ttcntls the Kmg when he read? difpatches «' Break *' Break for the wealth of realms his facred word, " And let the world write coward on his fword ; " Sooner (hall hani from fowl and turkey part ! " And ftufhng leave a calf's or bullock's heart ! " Sooner fliall toafted cheefe take leave of muftard ! " And from the codlin tart be torn the cuftard : " Sooner thefe hands the glorious haunch fhall fpoil, *' And all our melted butter turn to oil : " Sooner our pious King, with pious face, '* Sic down to dinner without faying grace ; *' And ev'ry night falvation pray'rs put forth, " For Portland, Fox, Burke, Sheridan, and North " Sooner iKall fafhion order frogs and fnails, •' And dilliclouts ftick eternal to our tails ! *' Let George viev/ Ministers with furly Looks, " Abufe 'em, kick 'em but revere his Cooks!" — " What, lofe our locks f " reply'd the roafting Crew, " To Barbers yield 'em? Damme it we do ! *' Be fhav'd like foreign Dogs one daily meets, " Naked and blue, and fhiv'ring in the ftreets ? . . - '' And [ ^B ] *' And from the Palace be afliam'd to range , " For fear the world fhould think we had the mange ; " By taunting boys made weary of our lives, " Broad-grinning wh — es, and ridiculing wives 1 " " Roufe, Opposition !" roar'd a tipfey Cook, With hands a-kimbo, and bubonic look, " 'Tis She alone our noble curls can keep *' Without HER, Ministers would fall afleep : *' 'Tis she who makes great inen — our Foxes, Pitts, " And fharpens, whetftone-like, the Nation's wits : " Knocks off your knaves and fools, however great, " And, broom-like, fweeps the cobwebs of the State: " In cafks like fulphur that expells bad air, " And makes, like thunder-claps, foul weather fair; " Afts like a gun, that, fir'd at gather'd foot, " Preferves the chimney and the houfe to boot : *' Or, like a fchool-boy's whip, that keeps up tops, *' The linking Realm, by flagellation, props. " Our [ ^-9 J '' Our ivlonarch muftnot be indiilg'd too far;. " Beiides ! I love a little bit of war. " V/hether to crop our curls he boafts a right, " Or not, I do not care the Loufe's bite ; " But then, no force-work ! No ! No force, by Heav'n ! ^' COOKS ! YEOMEN ! SCOURERS ! we will not be driv'n. " Try but to force a Pig againft his will, " Behold! the fturdy Gentleman ftands ftill I " Or, p'rhaps, (his pow'r to let the driver know) " Gallops the very road he fliould not go - ■ ' . '* No force for me ! The French, the fawning dogs, " E'en let them lofe their freedom, and eat frogs * ' Damme ! I hate each pale foupe-meagre thief " Gi\T me my darling liberty and beef." He fpoke and from his jaws a lump he flid. And, fwearing, manful flung to earth his Quid. Then fwelling PRIDE forbade his tongue to reft, Whilft wild emotions labour'd in his breaft H Now [ 3° ] Now founds confus'd his anger made him mutter, And when he thought on {having, curfcs fputter. Such is the found (the fimile's not weak) Form'd by what mortals Bubble * call, and Squeak, When 'midft the fryingpan, in accents favage. The beef fo furly quarrels with the cabbage. " Be fliav'd," a Scullion loud began to bellow, Loud as a parifli bull, or poor Othello, Plac'd by that rogue Iago upon thorns, With all the horrors of a pair of horns : Loud as th' Exciseman -f-, ftruggling for his life, And panting in a moll inglorious ftrife ; When, * The modefl: Author of the Lousiad mufl do himfelf the juftice to declare here, that his fimile of the Bubble and Squeak is vaftly more natural and more fublime than Homer's black pudding on a gridiron» illuftrating the motions and emotions of his Hero Ulyssks. {Vid. Odyssey. -j- This affair happened a few years fince — An Exclfeman fcizing fome fmuggled goods belonging to a Princefs, a relation of the Great Frederic, her Highness fell upon the poor Rat de Cave, and almoft fcratched his eyes I 3^ 1 When on his face the fmuggling Princefs fprung, And, cat-like clawing, to his vifage clung. " Be fliav'd like pigs !" rejoin'd the Scullion's Mate, His difliclout ihaking, and his pot-crown'd pate *' What barber dares it, let him watch his nofc, " And, curfe me ! dread the rage of thefe ten toes/' So faying, with an oath to raife one's hair, He kick'd with threat'nino; foot the yieldincr air. Thus have I feen an y^SS (baptiz'd a Jack) Grac'd by a Chimneysweeper on his back, Prance, fnort, and fling his heels with liberality, In imitation of a horse of quality. " Be fhav'd !" an underflrapper Turnbroche cry'd, In all the foaming energy of pride, eyes out — the Excifeman made a formal complaint to the King, begging to be reliev'd from the difgrace. — The gallant Monarch returned for an- fwer, that he gave up the duties to his covifin the Princefs, but could not conceive how the hand of a fair Lady could difhonour the face of an E:ccifeman. " Zounds! [ 3^ ] *' Zounds ! let us take His Majefly in hand ! " The King fhall find he lives at our command : *' Yes ; let him know, with all his wond'rous ftate, *' His teeth and ftomach on our wills fhall wait : *' Wc rule the platters, we command the fpit, " And George fliall have his mefs when % " Dame Nature, when a Prince's head fhe makes, " .- *' No more concern about the infidc takes, ' ' ■u-.^-'q''' •■' " Than of the infide of a Buo-'s or Bat's, ,*r •,. " A Flea's, a Grafhopper's, a Cur's, a Cat's! -> ,, " As carelefs as the Artist, trunks deiigningr, " About the triflingr circumftance of lining; ,. " Whether of Cumberland he ufe the Plays, j " MTsEurney's Novels, oi Mifs Seward's Lays; .... . ■,. ,, " Or facred Dramas ot Mifc Hannah More, • " Wher^ ..11 the Nine, with little Moses, fnore; '' O- ^ooi b<-;"J!rc Pind..r s Odes or Wharton's ftick, " Or Hoiu.ec Wulpole's Douol^ up- King Dick, (( (C [ 34 ] *' Who furious drives, at times, his old goofe quill, " On StravcFrry^ (Reader!) not th' Aoniaji Hill -y Whether he doom the Royal Speech to cHng, Or thofe of Lords and Commons to the King ; " Where one begs money, and the others grant *' So eafy, freely, friendly, complaifant, " As if the cafli were really all their own, ** To purchafe Knick-knach * that difgrace a throne, " Ah, me! did people know what trifling things ** Compofe thofe idols of the Earth call'd Kmgs^ ** Thofe counterpart of that important fellow, <* The Children's wonder Signor Punchinello; * ' Who ftruts upon the ftage his hour away ; ** His outiide, gold his infide, rags and hay ; * The Civil Lift, we are inclin'd to think, feels deficiencies from toys ' — For an inftance, we will appeal to Mr. Cummlng's non-defcript of a time-piece at the Queen's Houfe, which coft nearly two thoufand pounds. The fame artift is alfo allowed 200I. per annum to keep the bauble in repair. No [ 35 ] - .. ^* No more as God's Vicegerents would they fliiiie, ** Nor make the world cut throats for Right Divine. " Thofe Lords of Earth, at dinner, we have fecn, " Sunk, by the mereft trifles, with the fpleen " Oft for an ill-drefs'd egg have heard them groan,. " And feen them quarrel for a mutton bone: ** At fait or vinegar, with paffion, fume,, " And kick dogs, chairs, and pages, round the room *. ■ ' • r • ■—^rt- - - ** Alas ! how often have we heard them grunt, *' Whene'er the rufhing rain hath fpoil'd a hunt ! -■-.■,' " Their fanguine wifhes crofs'd, their fpirits clogg'd, " Mere riding difhclouts homeward they have jogg'd ; , * This is partly a picture of the laft reign as well as the prefent. The pafiions of George the Second were of the moft impetuous kind — his hat and his favourite Minifter, Sir Robert Walpole, were toe frequently the foot balls of his ill humours — nay, poor Queen Caroline came in for a fhare of his foot benevolence — but he was a Prince of virtues — ubi plura nitent, non ego paucis qffendar maculis. « Poor [ 36 ] " Poor imps ! the fport (with all their pride and pow'r) " Of Nature's diuretic ftream a fliow'r ! '' This te'.:, the adtors in the farce, perceive; " But this the dijiant world will ne'er believe, " Who fancy Kings to all the virtues born, '' Ne'er by the vulgar ftorms of pafTion torn ; " But, bleit with fouls fo calm, like Summer feas, " That fmile to Heav'n, unruffled by a breeze: " V/ho think that Kings, on wifdom always fed, '' Speak fentences like Bacon's brazen head ; " Hear from their lips the vileft nonfenfe fall, " Yet think fome heav'nly fpirit dictates all; " Conceive their bodies of cceleftial clay, *' And, though all ailment, fac red from decay ; " To nods and fmiles their gaping homage bring, " And thank their God their eyes have feen a King ! " Lord ! in the circle when our Royal Master *• Pours out his words as faft as hail, or fafter, " To country Squires, and wives of country Squires ; ' ' Like ftuck pigs ftaring, how each oaf admires ! *' Lo! - I 27 ] " Lo ! ev'ry fy liable becomes a Gem ! '* And if, by chance, the Monarch cough, or hem, " Sciz'd with the fymptoms of a deep furprife, " Their joints with rev'rence tremble, and their eyes " Roll wonder firft ; then, fhrinking back with fear, " Would hide behind the brains, were any there. *' How taken is this idle v/orld by fhow 1 " Birth, riches, are the Baals to whom we bow ; " Prefcrrino", with a foul as black as foot, " A rogue on horfeback, to a faint on foot. ' - " See France, fee Portugal, Sicilia, Spain, ' " And mark the defert of each Despot's brain; ' ' ' " Whofe tongues fhould never treat with taunts a Fool 9 *' Who prove that nothing is too mean to rule. "' ' "' •' What could the Prince, high tow'ring like a fteeple, " Without the Majesty of Us the People ? " Go, like the King of Babylon *, to grafs, ** Or wander, like a beggar with a pafs I * Nebuchadnezzafi K ** However [ ss ] *^ However modern Kings may Cooks defpife, " Warriors and Kings were cooks, or Hift'ry lies ** Patroglus broild beef fleaks to quell his hunger: •* The mighty Agamemnon potted conger! " And CHARLES of SWEDEN, 'midft his guns and drums, ** Spread his own bread and butter with his thumbs. *' Be fhav'd ! — No ! — fooner pill'ries, jails, the ftocks, *' Shall pinch this corps, than Barbers fnatch my locks." — " Well hafl thou faid," a Scowrer bold rejoin'd *'' Damme ! I love the man who fpeaks his iilind." Then in his arms the orator he took, And fwore he was an angel of a Cook. Awhile he held him with a Cornilli hug ; Then feiz'd, with glorious grafp, a pewter mug, Whofe ample womb nor cyder held nor ale. But neftar fit for Jove, and brew'd by Thrale. " A health to Cooks," he cried, and wav'd the pot, " And he who fi^hs for titles is a fot " Let Dukes and Lords the world in wealth furpafs ** Yet many a Lion's {kin conceals an Afs. Lor [ 59 ] *' Lo ! this IS one amongft my golden rules, *' To think the greateft men the greatefl fools *' The GREAT arc judges of an opera fong " And fly a Briton's for a Eunuch's tongue; *' Can flarve their families to hear Babinis, *• Gaunt Pa'cckiarot IS, fit-rump'd, fquab Rauzzinis ; " Thus idly fquand'ring for a fquavvl their riches " To faint with rapture at thofe cats in breeches. *' Accept this truth from me, my lads the man *' Who firft found out a fpit, or fryingpan, " Did ten times more towards the public good, *' Than ail the tawdry titles fince the flood: ... , *' Titles! that Kings may grant to afl^es, mules, " The fcorn of fages, and the boafl; of fools." He ended All the Cooks exclaim'd, " Divine 1 " Then whifper'd one another, 'twas " damn'd fine ! " Thus fpoke the Scowrer like a man infpir'd, Whofe fpeech the heroes of the kitchen fir'd : . . Grooms, [ 40 ] Grooms, Mafter Scowrcrs, Scullions, Scullions' Mates, With all the Overfeers of knives and plates. Felt their brave fouls like frifky cyder work, Whizzing in oppofition to the cork : Earth's Potentates appear'd ignoble things, And Cooks of greater confequence than Kings ; Such is the pow'r of words, where truth unites, And fuch the rage that injur'd worth excites ! The Scowrer's fpeech, indeed, with reafon bleft, Inflam'd with godlike ardour all the reft : Thus if a barn Heav'n's vengeful light'ning draw. The flame ethereal darts amongft the ftraw ; Doors, rafters, beams, owls, weazels, mice and rats, And (if unfortunately moufing) cats ; All feel the fierce devouring fire in turn, And mingling in one conflagration, burn. *' Sons of the Spit," the Major cry'd again, *' Your noble fpeeches prove you bleft with brain ; «' Brain! [ 41 ] ** Brain ! that Dame Nature gives not ev'ry head, *' But fills the vaft vacuity with lead ! *' Yet ere for oppofition we prepare, " And fight the glorious caufe of heads of hair, " Methinks 'twould be but decent to petition, " And tell the King*, with firmnefs, our condition ** Soon as our fad complaint he hears us utter, ** Kis gracious heart may melt away like butter ; *' Fair Mercy fhine amidft our gloomy houfe, ^ ' <' And anger'd Majefty forget the LOUSE." END OF CAN to t ADVERTISEMENT. A.S many people perfift in their incredulity with refpeft to the attack made by the Barbers on the heads of the harmlefs Cooks, I fhall exhibit a lift of the unhappy fufferers ; it is the Palace lift, and therefore as au- thentic as the Gazettg. A true lift of the SHAVED at Buckingham Houfe. Two Soil Carriers Two Mafter Cooks Three Yeoman ditto Four Grooms Three Children Two Mafter Scowrers Six Under Scowrers Six Turnbroches Two DocM' Keepers Eight Boys Five Paftry People Eight Silver Scullery for laughing at the Cooks. In all fifty one. A young man, named John Bear, would not fubmit, and loft his' place. The PROPRIETORS of the Works of PETER PINDAR, Efquire, ♦ ■ Find themfelves obh"ged, on account of the frequent Piracies of his Produ6lions, to offer TEN GUINEAS Rewarcl,^ .•:,, On the Gonvi6lion of any Offender : The Money to be immediately paid bv tlie Publifher, Mr. Kearsley, in Fleet Street; or Mr. Cooitr, Printer^. Bow Street, Govent Garden ; and the Name or Names of' the communicating Party concealed. A LIST OF PETER PINDAR'S WORKS, Anv of which mav be had of G. KEARSLEY, No. 46, Fleet Street. 1. A Supplicating EPISTLE to the REVIEWERS, — r i o 2. LYRIC ODES to the Royal Academicians, fc 1782, 020 3. — — . — 17&5, o ■ 6 5. FAREWELL ODES ^ ■-•', o 3 o 6. The LOUSIAD, Canto L — — — -.026 y, — — Canto II. — — — — 026 S. Congratulatory EPISTLE to JAMES BOSWELL —020 9, BOZZY and PIOZZI, a TOWN ECLOGUE — — 030 10. ODE upon ODE, or a PEEP at St. JAMES'S — — 030 11. An APOLOGETIC POSTCRIPT to ODE upon ODE o i 6 12. INSTRUCTIONS to a certain POET LAUREAT —026 13. BROTHER PETER to BROTHER TOM — —030 14. PETER'S PENSION, a Iblemn EPISTLE — —030 THE L O U S I A D, CANTO II. [Price HA.LP A^ CR:OWN.] a.NT£RED AT STATIONERS' HALL. ^— ■EWliliM-JMB) THE L O U S I A D. CANTO THE SECOND. JN YMPHS of the facred fount, around whofe brink Bards rufh in droves, like cart-horfes, to drink ; Dip their dark beards amidft your ftreams fo clear, And whilft they gulp it, willi it ale or beer ; Far more delighted to pofTefs, I ween. Old Calvert's brewhoufe for their Hippocrene : And bleft with beef, their ghoftly forms to fill, Make Dolly's chophoufe their Aonian hill ; More pleased to hear knives, forks, in concert join, Than all the tinkling cymbals of the Nine ; B ■ AiriH [ 6 ] Affift me — ye who themes fublime purfue. With icarce a ihift, a flocking, or a fhoe. Such Dow'r have fatires, epigrams, and odes, As make ev'n bankrupts of the born of gods As well as mortal bards, who oft bewail Their unfuccefsful madrigals in jail, Where penn'd, like haplefs cuckows, in a cage, The ragged warblers pour their tuneful rage ; Deck the damp w-alls with verfe of various quality. And, from their prifons, mount to immortality* Ah ! tell me where is now thy blufh, O Shame ! Shall bards through yW/y explore the road to Fame 5 Like fouls of Papifls in their way to glory, Doom'd at the half-v/ay houfe, call'd Purgatory, To burn, before they reach the realms of light, Like old tobacco pipes, from black to white ? Yet [ 7 ] Yet let me fay again, that pow'rful rhyme Hath lifted poets to a ftate fublime ; To lofty piil'ries rais'd their facred ears High o'er the heads of marvelling compeers, Whofe eggs, potatoes, turnips, and their tops, Paid flying homage to their tuneful chops : Blefl ftate ! that gives each fair exalted mien, . To grace in print each monthly magazine ; And deck the fliops with fweet engravings drcil, 'Midft angels, finners, faints of Mr. West ; Where brave King Alexander and the Deer^ A noble buftling hodge-podge fhall appear , From that fam'd * picture which our wonder drew. And pour'd its brazen fplendors on the view ; Bright as the pictures that v/ith glorious glare, On penthoufe high, in Piccadilly flare. * A Vv-hole acre of canvas fo daub'd by colour as to give it tl:e ap- |-,caraiice of a brals foundery. - Where I 8 ] Where lions feem to roar, and tygers growl, Hyenas wine, and wolves in concert howl ; And by their gogling eyes and furious grin^ Inform what fiiaggy devils lodge within. Ye nymphs who, fond of fun, full many a time. Mount on a jack-afs many a child of rhyme, And make him think, aftride his braying hack, He moves fublime on Peo;afus's back : Ye Muses, oft by brainlefs poets fought To bid the ftanza chime and fwell with thought ; Who, whelping for Oblivion, fain would fave Their whining puppies from the fallen wave ; Affifl: me ! ye who vifit tovv'ns and hovels. To teach our girls in bibs to eke out novels, And treat with fcorn (far nobler knowledge fludying) The humble art oi making pyc or puddino^ : Who [ 9 J Who make our Sapphos of their verfes vain, And fancy all Parnaffiis in their brain ; ' • _ And 'midft the buftle of their lucubrations, Take downright madnefs for your infpirations ; Charm'd with the cadence of a lucky line, - 'i Who tafte a rapture equal, George, to thine ; When, bleft at Datchet, though thy Herschell's glafs. That brings from diftant worlds a horfe, an afs, ^ A tree, a windmill, to the curious eye, Shirts, {lockings, blankets, that on hedges dry j Thine eyes, at evenings late and mornings foon, Unfited feaft on v/onders in the moon ; Where Plerfchell on volcanos, mountains, pores, And happy Nature's true fublime explores j Wliilft tliouj fo modeft, (wonderful to tell !) On LuxAR frjjle^ art content to dwell. Flies, grafshoppcrs, grubs, cobwebs, cuckow fpittle, In n-iort, deliglitcd v/ith the world oi little \ C Which [ lo 1 which Weft ftiall paint, and grave Sir Jofeph Banks Receive from thy hiftoric mouth with thanks ; Then bid the vermin on the journals* crawl, Hop, jump, and flutter, to amufe us all. And thou, great PATRON f of the double quill. That flays by rhyme, and murders by a pill, A pretty kind of double-barrel'd gun. More giv'n to tragedy than comic fun ; Aufpicious PATRON of the paunch and backs Of thofe all-daring rafcals chriften'd quacks, To whom our purfe and lives are legal plunder. Who, hawk- like, keep the human fpecies under : GOD of thofe gentlemen of gingling brains, Who, for their own amufement, print their ftrains. Strains that ne'er foar'd beyond the beetle's flight. Save on the pinions of a fchool-boy's kite j * Of the Royal Society. t Apollo. Strains . . - [ ^o Strains arrant ftrangcrs to a depth profound, Save when deep pilgrimaging under ground, '. . ' In humble rags, like Tinners in a mine, They pay their court at Cloacina's fhrme; Strains that no ray of light nor warmth proclaim, Save when committed to the fire, they flame ; Strains that a circulatmi never found. Save when they turn'd on beef or venTon round : Oh ! aid, as lofty Homer fays, my 7iqus^ To flng fublime the Monarch and the Loufe ! Nymphs, Phoebus, in vaj JirJ} heroic chapter I fhould have pray'd for crumbs of tuneful rapture : Thus to forget my friends was not fo clever ; But, fays the proverb, " better late than never. ^.^ Well 1 flnce I'm in the invocation trade, To Confcience let my compliments be paid Conscience, [ 12 ] Conscience, a terrifying little fprite, That, bat-like, winks by day and wakes by night j Hunts through the heart's dark holes each lurking vice, As fliarp as vveaiels hunting eggs or mice ; — Who, when the light'nings flafh, and thunders crack, Makes our hair bridle like a hedge-hog's back ; Shakes, ague-like, our hearts with wild commotion ; Uplifts our faint-like eyes with dread devotion : Bids the poor trembling tongue make terms with Heav'n, And promife miracles to be forgiv'n ; Bids fpedres rife, not very like the Graces, With gogling eyes, black beards, and Tyburn faces ; With fcenes of fires of glowing brimftone fcares, Spits, forks, and proper culinary wares For roafting, broiling, frying, tricaileeing, The Soul, that fad offending little Being ; That ftubborn fluff of falamander make, Proof to the fury of the burning lake. O Conscience! [ ^3 ] ^ O Conscience ! tliou jftrait jacket of the foul, The madding falHcs of the bard control ; Who, when incun'd, like brother bards, to lie, Bring Truth's ncglcdcd form before his eye; •". Fair Maid ! to tov/ns and courts a fi:ran2er grown. And now to rural fwains alraoft unknown, Whofe company was once their prudent choice ; Who once delighted, lift'ned to her voice ; When in their hearts the gentler pafTion flrove, And Constancy went hand in hand with Love ! Sweet Truth, who fteals through lonely fhades along, And mingles with the turtle's note her fong ; Whilft Falsehood, rais'd by fycophantic tricks, Unblufhing, flaunts it in a coach and lix. Conscience ! who bid'ft our Monarch from the nation, Send fons to Gottingen for education, Since haplefs Cam and Isis, lofl to knowledge, Are ideots to this Hanoverian college, . ■ " • « < , . D Where L H ] Where fimplc Science beams with orient ray ; The great, the glorious ATHENS of the day! So (ays the Ruler of us EngUfh fools, Who cannot judge like /jwi of Wisdom's fchools. Dear attic Gottingen ! to thee I bow. Of Knowledge, Oh ! moft wonderful milch cow f From whom huge pails the royal boys fhall bring. And give, we hope, a little to the Through T/jee, belides the knowledge they may reap., The lads fliall get their board and lodging cheap ; And learn, like their good parents, to fublift Within the limits of the Civil Lift ; Who feldom bid a Minifter implore A little farther pittance for tlje poar^ Conscience I who to the wonder of his Sire, Bad'ft from his wonted ftate a Prince retire, And, [ ^i ] And, like a fubje " And in a pair of minutes is undreft; " Whilft all \\\^ fapionabh female clans, " Undrelling, feem unloading caravans. *' No matter from what fource Contentment fprings; •*' 'Tis juft the fame in Cooks as 'tis in Kings ; '^ And if our fouls are fet upon our hair, " Let fnip-fnap barbers, nay, let Kings ^ beware, *' Nor tempt the dangerous rage of true John Bulls, And clap, like fools, the edgetool to our fkulls. Tread on a worm, he fliows his rage and pain, *' By turning on the wounding toe again : " Nay, ev'n ma?ii7nates appear to feel : *' On the loofey?d?;z^, if chance direct your heel, *' Lo ! from its womb the fudden ftream afcends, " To prove the foot was not among its friends ; And (( (( [ 41 ] " And calling in the aid of neighbour mud, *' O'er the fair {locking fpouts the fable flood." So fpoke the Major, with refentment fir'd- Spoke like a man — indeed, like man wfpir d I " Some critic cries, with fharp, faftidious look, " Bard, bard, this is not language for a Cook." " O fnarler ! but I'll lay thee any wager, " It is not too fublime for a Cook Major.'"- — " Behold! to remedy our fad condition,'' The Major cried, '* I've cook'd up a Petition : " This carries weight with it, or I'm miftaken, " Shall fliake the Monarch's foul, and fave our bacon—— " Then jumping on a barrel, thus aloud " He read fonorous to the gaping croud : Thus reads a parifh clerk in church a brief, That begs for burnt-out wretches kind relief L Relief, [ 42 ] Relief, alas ! that Very rarely reaches The poor petitioners, the ruin'd wretches ; But (loft its way) unfortunately fteers To fat churchwardens and fat overfeers ; Improves each difh, augments the punch and ale, And adds new fpirit to the fmutty tale. The [ 43 ] The petition of the COOKS. *' JL OUR Majefty's firm friends and faithful Cooks, " Who in your Palace merry liv'd as grigs, " Have heard, with heavy hearts and down- call looks, *' That we muft all be fliav'd, and put on wigs : " You^ Sire, who with fuch honour yNQ2ii.your Crown, " Should never bring on ours difgraces down. " Dread Sir ! we really deem our heads our own, " With ev'ry fprig of hair that on them fprings :- " In France, where men like fpaniels lick the Throne, '* And count it glory to be cuff'' d by Kings, " Their locks belong unto the Grand Monarque^ '* Who fwallows privileges like a fhark. ^^ Be [ 44 ] " Be pleas 'd to pardon what we now advance ; " Wc dare your Sacred Majefty affure, " That- there's a diff'rence between us and France ; " And io7ig, we hope, that difference we'll endure. " We know King Lewis wou'd, with pow'r fo dread, ^' Not only cut tlie hair off, but the head. " Oh ! tell us, Sir, in loyalty fo true, " What dire defigning raggamuffins faid, *^ That we, your Cooks, are fuch a nafty crew, '* Great Sir 1 as to have crawlers in our head ? " My Liege, you can't find one through all our houfe,' " Not if you'd give a guinea for a loufe. " What creature 'twas you found upon your plate " We know not if a loufe, k was not ours; " To fliave each Cook's poor unoffending pate, " Betrays too much of arbitrary pow'rs ; '* The ad: humanity and juftice fliocks: " Let him who owns the crawler lofe his locks. But L 45 ] '^ But grant upon your plate this loufe fo dread, *' How can you fay, Sir, it belongs to us f — *' Maggots are found in many a princely head ; " And if a maggot, why then not a loufe ? " Nay, grant the fad: ; with horror fhould you fhrink ? ** It could not eat your Majefty we think. *' Hunger, my Liege, hath oft been felt by Kings, *' As well as people of mferior Jlate ; ^* Quarrels with Cooks are therefore dangerous things *' We cannot anfwer for your ftomach's fate; *' For, by your fize, we frankly muft declare, " You feed on more fubftantial fluff than air, " My Liege, an Univerfe hath been your foes ; , *' The times have look'd moft miferably black *' America hath tryd to pull your nofe " French, Dutch, and Spaniards, try d to bang your back : *' 'Twould be a ferious matter, wc can tell ye, *' Were ws to buccaneer it on your belly, M " You [ 46 ] " You fee the fpirit of your Cooks, then, Sire " Determin'd nobly to fupport their locks ; " And lliould your guards be order'd out to fire, '< Their guns may be oppos'd by fpits and crocks : " Knives, forks, and fpoons, may fly, with plates a flore, " And all the thunder of the kitchen roar. *' Nat. Gard7ier, Yeoman of the Mouth, declares *' He'll join the ftandard of your injur 'd Cooks " Each fcuUion, turnbroche, for redrefs prepares, *' And puts on very formidable looks : " Your women too imprimis .^ Mrs. Dyer^ * ' Whofe eggs are good as ever felt a fire : " Next Sweeper- general Bickley^ Mrs". Mary^ " With that fam'd bell-ringer call'd Mrs. Loman " An7t Spencer y guardian of the NecefTary, '* That is to fay, the neceffary woman " All thefe, an't pleafe you, Sir, fo fierce, determine " To join us in the caufe of hair and vermine. *' T^ -^^ [ 47 ] - " Tliere's Miftrefs Stewart^ Mr. Richard Day, " Who find your Sacred Majcfly in linen, " Are ready to fu]3port us in our fray " You can't conceive the pafTion they have been in ;■ " They fwear fo much your fcheme of fhaving hurts, " You fhan't have pocket-handkerchiefs or fliirts. " The grocers, Clarke and 'Taylor, curfe the fcheme, " And fay whate'er we do the world won't blame us— " So Comber fays, who gives you milk and cream — " And thus your old friend Mr. Lewis Rafnus : *' We think your Sacred Majefty would mutter " At lofs of fugar, milk, and cream, and butter. " Suppofe, an't pleafe you, Sir, that Miftrefs Kniitton " And Miftrefs M airfield, fierce as tyger cats ; " One Overfeer of all. the beef and mutton, *' The other lady Prefident of fprats " Suppofe, in oppofition to your wifh, " This locks away the ilefh, and thai the fifti ? . . ** Suppofe [ 48 J *' Suppofe John Clarke refufe fupplles of muftard, *' So neceffary to your beef and bacon ? *' Will Roberts ali the apple-pie and cuftard ? " Your Majefly would growl, or we're miflaken — - " Suppofe that Wells ^ to plague your ftomach ftudying, *' From Sunday, facrilegiousj jfteals the pudding? *' Suppofe that Rainsforth with our carps unites ? '' We mean the man who all the tallow handles- Suppofe he locks up all the mutton lights (C " How could your Majelly contrive for candles ? '* You'd be (excufe the freedom of remark) *' Likeyc*;;;^ adminiflrations — in the dark, ** We dare aflure you that our grief is great — " And oft indeed our feelings it enrages, *' To fee your Sacred Majcfty befet *' By fuch a gracclcfs gang of idle pages • " And, uich iubm.ili on to your judgement, Sire, *' We th nk ciJ. j^iadam Swellenberg a lyar. ** Sup'-ofe, 1 i. ' [ 49 ] *' Suppofe, Great Sir, that by your cruel faf, *' Tlic barbers fiiould attack cur humble head, •* And that we fhould not chufe to breed a riot, " Becaufe we might not wifli to lofe our -bread ; *' Say, would the triumph o'er each harmlefs Cook *' Make George the Third like Alexandepx. look? " Dread Sir, reflect on Johnny Wikes's fate, " Supported chiefly by a paltry rabble — " Wilkes bade defiance to your frowns and ftate, *' And got the better in that famous fquabble ; " Poor v/as the victory you wifh'd to win, " That fat the mouth of Europe on the grin. " O King, our wives are in the kitchen roaring, " All ready in rebellion nov/ to rife — " They mock our humble method of imploring, *' And bid us guard againft a \vig furprife : ''■ Tours is the hair," they cry'd, th' Almighty gave yc, '' And not a King in Chriftendom fhould (have yc." N - ' Lo! [ so ] " Lo ! on th' event the world impatient looks, *' And thinks the joke is carried much too far- " Then pray, Sir, liften to your faithful Cooks, *' Nor in the Palace breed a civil war: " Loud roars our band, and, obftinate as pigs, '' Cry, * Locks and liberty, and damn the wigs. THE END. The PROPRIETORS of the Works of PETER PINDAR, Efquire, . Find themfelves obliged, on account of the frequent Piracies of his Productions, to offer TEN G U I xN E A S Reward, On the Convi6tion of any Offender ; Tiie Money to be immediately paid by the Publiilier, and the Name or Names of the communicating Party concealed. A t 1 S T OF PETER PI N D A :l * S W O R K S, Any of whicii may be had of-G- KEARSLE , , ^..;. 4«. Fiec-t'Strect r-aESa3»— 1. A Supplicating EPISTLE to the REVIEWERS, — o i o 2. LYRIC ODES to the Rovai Academicians, for 1782, o 2 o - _ — 1-8--,, ,0 I 6 17S5, 026 5. FAREWELL ODES ■ — 17S6, 030 6. The LOUSIAD, Canto I. — — — —026 T — — Canto II. — — — — 026 8. Congi-atul;.toryE-I3TLE.tpJAMESEOSWELL —020 9. BOZZY and PIOZZI, a TOWN ECLOGUE — — 030 10. OnE i-^on OPE, or a PEEP at St. JAMES's _ ~ o 3 o 11. An APOLOGETIC POSTCRIPT to ODE upon ODE o i 6 12. INSTRUCTIONS to a certain POET LAUPvEAT — 026 t;. BROTHER PETER to BROTPIER TOM — —030 14. PETER'S PENSION, a fokmii EPISTLE — —030 FAREWEL ODES. FOR THE YEAR 1786. . B Y PETER PINDAR, Efquire. i3ISTANT RELATION OF THE I'OET OF THEBES, And LAUREAT TO THE ROYAL ACADEMY, — — — Ridcntem dicere verum ^id 1-ctat ? — _— — _— HoRAT. FIFTH EDITION. LONDON: Printed for G. KEARSLEY, No. 46, Fleet Street. MDCCLXXXVIII. . "VV'hero may be had, All Peter Pindar's Produaions. For a complete Lift fee the laft Page. LYRIC ODES. O D E I. Peter talhth of rejigning the Laureatjhip — He prophefuth the Triumph of the Artists on his ReJig7iatio?2 — The Artists alfo prophefy to Peter'j Difadvantage — Peter'x lajl Comforts^ Jhould their Prophefy be fulfilled. A ETER, like fam'd Chriftina, Queen of Sweden, Who thought a wicked court was not an Eden, This year, refigns the laurel crown for ever ! What all the fam'd Academicians wifh ; No more on painted fowl, and flefh, and fifh, He (hows the world his carving fkill fo clever. Brafs, iron, woodwork, ftone, in peace jQiall refl ** Thank God !" exclaim the works of Mr. West. •' Thank God! " the works of Loutherbourg exclaim For guns of critics, no ignoble game *' No [ 4 ] ** No longer now afraid of rhiming praters, ** Shall \vQhQchxid:'n^d ua- if oar ds, var?nj/y d waiters : *• No verfe fliall fvvear that ours are pafi-hoard rocks, " Our trees, brafs wigs \ and ^//fT^j-, our fleecy flocks." '• Thank Heav'n!" exclaims Rigaud, with fparkling eyes -^ *' Then ilaall my pidures in importance rife, *'' And fill each gaping mouth and eye with wonder." Monfieur Rigaud, It may be fo, To think thy ftars have made fo flrange a blunder^ That bred to paint — the genius of a glazier : That fpoil'd, to make a dauber , a good brazier. None but thy partial tongue (believe my lays) Can dare ftand forth the herald of thy praife : Could FAME applaud, whofe voice my verfe reveres, Justice fhould break her trump about her ears. *' Thank Heav'n!" cries Mr. Garvy ; and ** Thank Godf'* Cries Mr. Copley, *' that this Man of Ode, " No more, Barbarian-like, fhall o'er us ride: " No more like beads, in nafty order flrung, ** And round the waifl: of this vile Mohawk hung, •* Shall academic fcalps indulge his pride. ** No [ 5 ] " No more hnng up in this dread fellow's rliime, ** Which he nioft impudently calls fublwie^ ** Shall we, poor, innoffeniive fouls, *' Appear juft like fo many moles, *' Trapp'd in an orchard, garden, or a field ; *' Which mole-catchers fufpend on trees, " To fliew their titles to their fees, *' Like Doctors, paid too often for the kiW d. " Pleas'd that no more my verfes fhall annoy ; Glad that my blifler Odes fhall ceafe their flinging ; Each wooden figure's mouth expands with jov Hark ! how they all break forth in finging ! . - In boailful founds the grinning Artists cry, *' Lo ! Peter's hour of infolence is o'er: '* His Mufe is ilead his lyric pump is dry *' His Odes, like ftinking fifh, not worth a groat a fcore. " Art thou, then, weak, like us, thou fnarling fniv'lier ? •' Art thou like one of us, thou lyric driv'Uer ? ' " Our Kings and Queens in glory now fhall lie, " Each unmolefted, fleeping in his frame ; " Cur ponds, our lakes, our oceans, earth, and fky, ' . " No longer, fcouted, fhall be put to fliam.e : B " No [ 6 ] '* No poet's rage fliall root our ftumps and fiumplings, *' And fwear our clouds are flying apple-dumplings : " Fame fhall proclaim how well our plum-trees bud, *' And found the merits of our mark and mud." " Our oaks, our brufhv/ood, and our lofty elms, •* No jingling tyrant's wicked rage o'erwhelms, " Now this vile FELLER is laid low : '* Li peace fhall our ftone hedges fleep, " Our huts, our barns, our pigs, and fheep, " And wild fowl, from the eagle to the crow." They who fliall fee this Peter in the ftreet, With fearlefs eye his front fhall meet, And cry, "Is this the man of keen remark ? *' Is this the wight ? " fliall be their taunting fpeech : •* A dog ! who dar'd to fnap each artifl:'s breech, " And bite Academicians like a fhark ? '• He whofe broad cleaver chop'd the fons of paint : *• Crufh'd like a marrowbone each lovely faint ; •' Spared [ 7 ] '* Spar'd not the very clothes about their backs : " The little diick-wing'd cherubims abiis'd, » *' That could not more inhumanly be iis'd, " Poor lambkins ! had they fall'n among the blacks. '* Hcf once fo fnriousj foon fhall want relief, *♦ Stak'd through the body, like a paltry thief. ' How art thou fall'n, O Cherokee!" they cry; •* How art thou fall'n !" the joyful roofs refound ; *' Hell fhall thy body, for a rogue, furround, And there, for ever roafting, may 'ft thou lie : ' Like Dives, may'fl: thou ftretch in fires along, Refus'd one drop of drink to cool thy tongue." C( (( Ye goodly gentlemen, reprefs your yell. Your hearty wiihes for my health reftrain ; For if our isoorh can put us into h-11. Kind Sirs ! we certainly fliall meet again : Nay, what is worfe, I really don't know whether We muft not lodge in the Ja^ne room together. ODE C 8 ] O D E II. Peter fiogs Academicians and Din7ter — Pities the Prince ^ Wales, Duke of OTkLEh-^is, Duke ¥\rz] i\m-e?>, Coujtt Lauzun, Lords Caermarthen and Besborough, ^c. and praifes Mi'. Weltjie — Excidpates the President — Condemns Sir V/. Chambers and the Committee for their bad Manage^nent — Peter talks of vifiti?ig the French King and the Duke c/" Orleans. W HE NE'ER Academicians run aftray, Such fliould the moral Peter's fong reclaim ^ — — O^ paint, this ode fliall nothing iing or fay, My eagle fatire darts at different game Againft decoruni 1 abhor a finner \ And therefore lafli the Academic dinner. Th' Academy, though marvellouily poor, Can once a year aftord to eat : By means of kind donations at the door. The members make a comfortable treat. Like Gipfes in a barn, around their King, That annual meet, to eat, and dance, and ling. A feafl C 9 ] A feaft was made of fleOi, lilli, tarts, creams, jellies, To fiiit the various qualities of bellies : Mine grumbl'd to be afk'd, and be delighted ; But wicked Peter's paunch was not invited. Yet though no meffage waited on the bard^ With compliments from Academic names, The Prince of Wales receiv'd a civil card. His Grace of Orleans too, and Duke Fitzjames ; Count de Lauzun, and Count Conflan, ._ ,, A near relation to the man. In whofe poor fides old Hawke once fix'd his claws, Were welcom'd by the Academic Lords, Either by writing or by words. To come and try the vigour of their jaws. ^ . . , Unfortunately for the modeft Dukes, ' • The nimble artifts, all with greyhound looks, Fell on the meat, with teeth prodigious able ; Seiz'd, of the Synagogue^ the highejl places, And left the poor /cr/cr??, their Gallic Graces, To nibble at the bottom of the table ! C There [ lO ] There fat, too, my good Lord Caermarthen, As one of the Canaille, not worth a larthing ! But what can titles^ virtues^ at a feaft, Where glory waits upon the greateji beajl f To fee a ftone-cutter and mafon High mounted o'er thofe men of quality ; By no means can our annals blazon For feats of courtly hofpitality. I've heard, however, one or two were tanners : Gra?itecl it doth not much improve their manners. They probably, in anfwer, may declare, They thought the feaft juft like a hunt ; In which, as foon as ever ftarts the hare. Each Nimrod trie§ to be the firft upon't : As he's the greatejl^ 'midft the howling fufs Who jirjl can triumph o'er poor dying puss. Peters* moft juftly rais'd his eyes of wonder. And wanted decently to give them grace ; But bent on venfon and on turbot-plunder^ A clattering peal of knives and forks took place : * A refpeftable Clergyman, and one of the Academicians. Spoons, [ " ] Spoons, plates, and diflies, rattling round the table, Produc'd a 7iew edition of old Babel. They had no Jlomach^ o'er a Grace, to nod. Nor thne enot^gh to offer thanks to God : That might be done, they wifely knew, When they had nothing elfe to do. His Highness entering fomewhat rather late, Could fcarcely find a knife, or fork, or plate : But not one fingle maide^i di£h. Poor gentleman ! of flefh or fifh. Moft woefully the pajlry had been pawd^ And trembling jellies barbaroully claw d. In fhort, my gentle readers to amaze^ His Highness pick'd the bones of the R. A.'s. O Weltjie *, had thy lofty form been there, And feen thy Prince fo ferv'd with fcrap and flop, Thou furely would' ft have brought him better fare A warm beef fteake, perchance, or mutton chop. • ■* The Prince's German cook. ■ • - " Thou [ '^ ] Thou would'fl: have faid, " De Prence of V/ales, by Goi, ' ' Do too mufp honour to he at der feajl ; " Vef^e he cant heh von beet of jneat dat's hot^ ' ' But t?'eated vid de bones jufi like a beafl. " De Prence, he vas too great to fit and eat ' ' De bones and leafijtgs of de meat ; " And mwiJJj vat dirty low-lif'd rogues refufe^ " By Got ! not fit to vipe de PrenceV fjoes.'' Great Befborough's Earl, too, came o^ feco'nd befl ; His murmuring fliomach had not half a feaft ; And therefore it was natural to mutter : To redlify the fault, with joylefs looks, His Lordfhip bore his belly off to Brookes, Who filled the grumbler up with bread and butter. Sirs ! thofe manoeuvres were extremely coarfe This really was the effence of ill breeding : Not for your fouls could you have treated vvorfe, Bumh-bailiffs, by this dog-like mode of feeding. Grant, you eclips'd a pack of hounds, with glee Purfuing, in full cry, the fiiinting game Surpafs'd them, too, in gobling down the prey ; Still, great R, A.'s^ I tell you 'twas ?i foame : Grant, [ u ] Grant, each of you the wond'rous man excell'd. Who beat a butcher's dog in eating tripe ; And that each paunch with guttling was fo fwelVdy Not one bit more could pafs your fwallow-pipe : Grant, that you dar'd fuch fluffing feats difplay, That not a foul of you could walk away : Still, 'midft the triumphs of your gobling fame, I tell you, great R. A.'s, it was 2l Jhame. Grant, you were greas'd up to the nofe and eyes, Your cheeks all (hining like a lantern's horn. With tearing hams and fowls, and giblet pies. And ducks, and geefe, and pigeons newly born : Though great, in your opinion, be your fame, I tell you, great R. A.'sy it was a Jhame. This, let me own the candour-loving Mufe Moft willingly Sir Joshua can excufe. Who tries the nation's glory to increafe ; Whofe genius rare is very feldom nodding. But deep on painting fubje<5ls plodding. To rival Italy and Greece. But pray. Sir V/illiam *, what have ji;« to fay ? .No fuch impediment is in your way ; * Sir W. Chambers. D Genius [ '4 ] Genius can't hirrt your etiquette attention ; And Melliciirs Tyler, Wilton, and Rigaiid, Have you a genius to impede you ? No ! Nor many a one beiides that I could mention. This year (God willing) I fhall vifit France, And tafte of Louis, Grand Monarque ! the prog : His Grace of Orleans, fo kind, pe?-cba?ice^ May aflc me to his houfe to pick a frog : And yet, what right have / to viiit there f To fee a man fo vilely treated here. Ye Royal Artifts, at your future feafts, I fear you'll make their Graces downright Daniels : And as the Prophet din'd amongft 'wild beajls^ The Dukes will join your paifiters and jowr fpanieh^ ODE III. Peter giveth fage Advice to 7?iercenary Artijls^ a?id telleth a moji delegable Story of a Country Bumpki?i and a peripa- tetic Razor-feller. Jl OR BEAR, my friends, to facrilice your fame To fordid gain, unlefs that you are ftarving : I own that hunger will indulgence claim For hard ftone heads and landfcape carving, [ '5 ] In order to make hafte to fell and eat ; For there is certainly a charm in meat : And in rebellious tones will ftomachs fpeak, That have not tafted victuals for a week. But yet there are a mercenary crew. Who value fame no more than an old fhoe ; Provided for their daubs they get a fale ; Juft like the man but ftay — I'll tell the tale. A fellow in a market town, Moft mufical, cried razors up and down, And ofFer'd twelve for eighteen pence ; Which certainly feem'd wond'rous cheap, And for the money, quite a heap, As evVy man wou'd buy, with cafh and fenfe, A country bumpkin the great offer heard : Poor Hodge, who fuffcr'd by a broad black beard, That feem'd a fhoe-brufli ftuck beneath his nofe. With chearfulnefs the eighteen pence he paid. And proudly to himfelf, in whifpers, faid, " This rafcal ftole the razors, I fuppofe." ** No matter if the fellow he a knave, '* Provided that the razors pjavc ; a It t i6 ] " It certainly will be a monflrous prize : " So home the clown, with his good fortune, went, Smiling in heart, and foul content. And quickly foap'd himfelf to ears and eyes. Being well lather'd from a difli or tub, Hodge now began with grinning pain to grub, Tuft like a hedger cutting furze : 'Twas a vile razor ! then the reft he try'd All were impoftors " Ah," Hodge figh'd ! " I wiili my eighteen pence within my purfe." In vain to chace his beard, and bring the graces. He cut, and dug, and winc'd, and ftamp'd, and fwore : Brought blood, and danc'd, blafphem'd, and made wry faces, And curs'd each razor's body o'er and o'er. His MUZZLE, form'd of oppofnio7i ftufF, Firm as a Foxite, would not lof^ its ruiF; So kept it - — laughing at the fteel and fuds : Hodge, in a paflion, ftretch'd his angry jaws, Vowing the direft vengeance, with clench'd claws, On the vile cheat that fold the goods. *' Razors ! C '7 ] ** Razors! a damn'd, confounded doo; *' Not fit to fcrape a hog !" Hodge fought the fellow found him, and begun *' P'rhaps, Mafter Razer-rogue, to you 'tis fun, *' That people flay themfelves out of their lives : ** You rafcal ! for an hour have I been grubbing, ** Giving my fcoundrel whifkers here a fcrubbing, • *' With razors juft like oyfter knives. *' Sirrah ! I tell you, you're a knave, *' To cry up razors that can't Jhave. " " Friend," quoth the razor-man, ''I'm not a knave : ** As for the razors you have bought, " Upon my foul I never thought *' That they wou'd Jhave. " ' : .• ** Not think they'd fnave !" quoth Hodge, with wond'ring eyes. And voice not much unlike an Indian yell ; *' What were they made for then, you dog ? " he cries : " Made ! " quoth the fellow, with a fmilc, — " to/'//." E ODE [ i8 ] ODE IV. Peter ohferveth the Lex Talionis. EST telis the world that Peter cannot rhime- Peter declares point blank that West can't paint West fwears I've not an atom oi fubli?ne I fwear he hath no notion of a faiftt : And that his crofs-wing'd cherubims are fowls, Baptiz'd by naturalifts, ow/.r ; Half of the meek apoftles, gangs of robbers ; His angels, fets of brazen-headed lubbers. The Holy Scripture fays, «' All flefli is grafs ; " With Mr. Weft, all flefh is brick and brafs ; Except his horfe-flefh, that, I fairly own. Is often of the choiceft Portland ftone, I've faid, too, that this artift's faces Ne'er paid a vifit to the Graces : That [ '9 ] That on Exprejfw?tt he can never brag : Yet for this article hath he been ftudying ; But in it, never could furpafs a pudding — No, gentle reader, nor a piuiding bag. I dare not fay that Mr. West Cannot found criticifm impart : I'ni told the man with teclmicah is bleft, That he can talk a deal upon the art : Yes, he can talk, I do not doubt it *' About it, goddefs, and about it !" Thus, then, is Mr. West deferving praife And let my juftice the fair laud offord ; For, lo ! this far-fam'd artift cuts both ways ; Exactly like the Angel Gabriel's y^or^ .• The beauties of the art, his conve-rfe fhows ; His can-vafs^ almoft evVy thing that's bad I Thus at th' Academy, we muft fuppofc, A man more ufeful never could be had ; V/ho in himfelf, a /» be cautious of each critic word. That, blafphemous, may much offence afford I mean, that wounds an ancient mafter's fame : At Titian, Guido, Julio, Veronefe, Your length'ning phiz let admiration feize. And throw up both your eyes at Raphael's name. Ev'n by a printfhop fliould you chance to pafs. Revere their effigy iniide the glafs : Juft as with Papifts, the religious care is In churches, lanes, to bend their marrowbones To bees-wax faints, bon-dieux of ftones, And beech, or deal, or wainfcot Virgin Marys. Whate'er [ =7 ] Whate'er their errors, they no more remain, For Time, like Fullers' earth, takes out each ftain ; Nay more on iaults that modern works wou'd tarnifli, Time fpreads a facred coat of varniih. Spare not on brother artifts' backs, the lafli ; Put a good wire in't let it JlaJJj ; Since ev'ry ftroke with int'reft is repaid ; For though you cannot kill the ma?i outright ; Yet, by this effort ol your rival fpite, Fifty to one if you don't fpoil his trade. His ruins may be feathers for your neft The maxim's not amifs probatum ejl. ODE VIII. , ^ The Poet mqiiires mto the State of the Exhibition — Lajljes Father TiyiE for making great Geniufes^ and deftroying them — Prafes Reynolds — Fancies a ve?y curious Dia- logue hetweeji King Alexander and the Deer, the Subjeci of Mr, Weft'j PiEiure — Turns to Mr. Weft' j RefurreEiion. W ELL, Mufe ! what is there in the Exhibition? , How thrive the beauties of the Graphic art ? Whofc racing genius feems in beft condition For Glory's plate to fart P Sly [ 28 ] Say what fly rogues old Fame cajole ? Speak, who hath brib'd her trumpet, or who J^ole .^ For much is praisd that ought in fires to mourn Nay, what would ev'n difgrace a fire to burn. What artift boafts a work fublime, That mocks the teeth of raging Time ? Old fool ! who after he hath form'd with pains, A genius rare, To make folks Jlare^ Knocks out his brains : Like children, dolls creating with high brags ; Then tearing all their handy works to rags. Lo ! Reynolds fliines with undimtjtijh^ d V2.y \ Keeps, like the Bird of Jove, his diftant way • Yet, fimple portrait ftrikes too oft our eyes ; Whilft Hist'ry, anxious for his pencil, fighs. We don't defire to fee on canvafs live, The copy of a jowl of lead ; When for th' original we wou'd not give A fmall pin's head. Th IS [ 29 ] Tills year, of pi6lurc, Mr. West Is quite a Patagonian maker He knows that hulk is not a jejl So gives us painting by the ac7-e. But ah ! this artist's brufli can never brag Upon King Alexander and the stag ; For as they play'd at loggerheads, a rubber. We furely ought to fee a handfome battle Between the Monarch and the Piece of Cattle ; Whereas, each keeps his diftance, like a lubber. His Majesty, upon his breech laid low, Seems preaching to his horned foe ; Obferving what a very wicked thing To hurt the facred perfon oF a King : And feems, about his bufinefs, to intreat him To march^ for fear the hounds fhould eat him. The STAG appears to fay, in plaintive note, " I own, King Alexander, my offence : " True ! I've not fhow'd my loyalty, nor fcnfc j " So bid your huntfmen come and cut my throat," H The [ 30 ] The cavalry, adorn'd with fair ilone bodies ; Seem on the dialogue with wonder, flaring ; And on their flinty backs, a ftt of NODDIES, Not one brafs farthing for their MASTER, caring. Behold ! 077C fellow lifts his mighty fpear To fave the owner of the Scottiili Crown ; Which harmlefs hanging o'er the gaping deer, Seems in no mighty hurry to come downl. Another on a Pcgafus^ comes flying 1 His phiz, his errand much belying ; For if he means to bajfe the beaft fo cruel, God knows, 'tis with a face oi icater-gi-ueL So then, fweet Mufe, the pifture boafls no merit- As flat as difli-water, or dead fmall-beer Or, what the mark is tolerably near, As heads of Aldermen, devoid of fpirit. Well then ! turn round view t'other flde the room. And fee his Saviour mounting from the tomb : Is this piece, too, with painting flns fo cram'd — Born to increafe the number of the dam7id? My fentiments by no means I refafe Was our Redeemer like the w?~etched thincr. I do not wonder that the cunning Jews Scorn'd to acknowledge him for KING. ODE [ 31 ] ODE IX. Peter mo-ralifeth, and giveth good Advice. XLiNVY and Jealousy, that pair of devils, StufT'd like Pandora's box with wond'rous evils, I hate, abhor, abominate, deteft : Like Circe, turning 7?ian into a beaji. Beneath their cankering breath no bud can blow ; Their blackning pow'r refembles ~f7?tut in corn, Which kills the riling ears that fhould adorn, And bid the vales with golden plenty glow. Yet, fierce in yonder dome each demon reigns 5 1 heir poifon fwells too many an artift's veins ; Draws from each labouring heart the fearful figh, And cafts a fullen gloom on ev'ry eye. Brushmen ! accept the counfel Peter fends. Who fcorns th' acquaintance of this brace of fiends ; Should any, with uncont7no7i talents tow'r j To any, is fiiperior fcience given Oh, let the weaker feel their happy pow'r ; Like plants that triumph in the dews of Heav'n. Be [ 3= ] Be pleas'd, like Reynolds, to direcl the blind ; Who aids the feeble fault'ring feet of youth ; Unfolds the ample volume o^^ his mind, With genius ilor'd, and Nature's fmiple truth. Who though a Sun, refembles not his brother, Whofe beams fo full of jealoufy confpire, Whene'er admitted to the roo?n to f mother The humble kitchen^ or the parlour Jire. ODE X. Peter fpeaketh figuratively Acco77i7nodateth h'wifelf to vulgar Readers— Lap eth Pretenders to Fatne — Concludetb merrily. j\ MODEST \ovc of praife I do not blame But I abhor a Rape on Mistress Fame Athough the Lady is exceeding chajle. Young forward bullies feize her round the waifl: ; Swear, 7ioIe7is vole7ts^ that fhe fliall be hijs' d\ And thouo;h fhe vovv's fhe docs not lilie V;/;, Nay, threatens, for their impudence, to Jlrike ''cmy The fancy rafcals ftill pcf^jl^ Reader I [ 33 ] Reader ! of images, here's no confuHon Thou therefore underftand'ft the Bard's allufion ; But pojfibly thou haft a thickiJJj head ; And therefore no vaft quantity of brain -— — — Why then, my precious Pig or* Lead, 'Tis neceffary to explai?i. Some ARTISTS, \^ \ fo may call 'em, So ignorant ( the Foul Fiend maul 'em ! ) Mere driv'lers in the charming art. Are vaftly fond of being prais'd ; Wifli to the ftars, Hke Blanchard, to be rais'd : And rais'd they fhould be, reader from a cart. If difappointcd in fome Stentor's tongue. Upon themf elves they pour forth profe or fong ; Or buy it in fome venal paper, And then heroically vapour. What prigs to immortality^ afpire. Who ftick their trafh around the room ! TraJJj meriting a very diff're7it doom, I mean the warmer regions of the fire f I Heav n C 3+ ] Heav'n knows, that I am anger'd to the foul, To find fome blockheads of tlieir works fo vain 6'^ proud to fee them hanging, cheek by jowly With his *, whofe pow'rs the art's high fame fuftain. To wond'rous merit their pretenfion, On fuch vicinity fufpe?tj7on ; Brings to my mind a not U7iphafant ftory, Which, gentle readers, let me lay before ye : A pahby fellow chanc'd, one day, to meet The Britifh Roscius in the ftreet, Garrick, on whom our nation juflly brags I'he fellow hugg-'d him with a kind embrace " Good Sir, I do not recollect your face," Quoth Garrick " No ? " replied the man of rags.. ^^ The boards of Druryjjw/ and / have trod " Full many a time together, I am fure — — " When?" with an oath, cried Garrick *' for by G — " I never faw that fiice o{ yours before ! *The Prefideiit. " What [ 35 1 ** What chara<5lers, I pra}--, " Did you and / together play ? »i ** Lord!" quoth the fellow, *' think not that I mock-^ — - " When_>w^ play'd Hamlet, Sir, — / play'd the Cock*." ODE XL Peter talketh fenfibly and knowingly — Reconimeiideth it to^ ARTISTS to prefer Pi&ures for their M.QTit — Difcovereth mufical Knouoledge^ and fooweth^ that he not only hath kept Company with Fid-levs, but Fiddle -msk-tv?, He fatirizeth the Vi^Vi^o-Cognofcenti — Praifeth his ingenious Neighbour Sir Joshua. JlSE not impos'd on by a najfie ; But bid your eye the pidure's merit trace:: PoussiN at times in outline may be lame. And GuiDo's ano;eIs deftitute of crrace. Yet lo ! a pifture of fome famous fchool : A warranted old Daub of reputation, Where charming painting^s almofl evry rule Hath fuffer'd ahnofl ev'ry violation ; * la the Ghoft Sceac Oft [ 36 ] Oft hath been gaz'd at, by devouring eyes, AVhere Nature, banifli'd from the picture, fighs; So fome old Dutchess, as a badger gray-, Her fnags by Time, Jure Dentist, fftatch' d aivay^ With long, lank, flannel cheeks ; Where y\GE in ev'ry wrinkled feature, Unto the poor, weak, fhaking creature. Of death, unwelcome tidings fpeaks ; Draws from the gaping mob the e?ivy'mg look, Becaufe her owner chanc'd to be a Duke. How many pajlboard rocks, and ii'on feas : How many torrents iinld^ o{ ft ill ft one water : How many b r 007ns ^ and br 00772ft icks meant for trees y Becaufe the fancied labours of Salvator * ; Whofe pencil, too, moft groflly may have blunder'd, Have brought the bleft foJfeJfo7- many a hundred ? Thus prove a crowds a STAiNERf, or Amati J; No matter for the fiddle's y^z/7z^; The fortunate possessor fhall not bate ye A doit, of fifty, nay a hundred pound : * Salvator Rofa. f A German Fiddle-maker. % A maker of fiddles called Cremonas. And [ 37 J And though, what's vulgarly baptiz'd a rep^ Shall in a hundred pounds be dcem'd dog-cheap. It tickles one cxceffively to hear Wife prating pedants the old niajlers praiie ; Damning by wholefale, with farcaftic fneer, The wretched works of modern days ; Making at living wights fuch fatal pufhes, As if not good enough to moipe their hrujloes. And yet on each wife cognofcotte 2S%, Who fliall for hours on paint and fculpture din yc ; A psrfon, with facility, may pafs RiGAUD for Raphael Bacon for Bernini; Or, little as an oven to VESuyius, Will Tyler for Palladio or Vitruvius ! One wou'd imagine, by the mad'ning fools Who talk of 7iothijig but the ancient fchools, And vilify the works of modern brains, They think poor Mother Nature's art is fled, That now fhe cannot make a head. Who took with old Italian nobs fuch pains ; Nay, to a drivler turn'd, her pow'r fo funk is. Tame foul 1 that nothing now fhe makes but monkies, K Look [ 38 ] " Look at your favo'rite Reynolds, " is their drain " Allow'd by all, the jlrjl in Europe's eye; *' One atom of repute can Reynolds gain, " When Titian, Rubens, and Vandyke, are nigh.? <* Can Reynolds live near Raphael's matchlefs line?" Yes, blinckards ! and with equal luftre fhine 1 ODE XII. Peter i?tcreafeth in WifdonZy aiid etdvifeth wifely — Secmeth angry at the Illiberality of Nature in. the Affair of his good. Acquaintance the Lord High Chancellor sf England, and Mr. Pepper Arden Peter treateth his Readers with L,ove-Verfes of paft "Titnes. I^OPY not Nature's form too clofelyy Whene'er flie treats your sitter ^r^?/^ •' For when fhe gives deformity for grace. Pray fliow a little mercy on the face. Indeed 'twould be but charity to flatter Some dreadful works of feeming drunken Nature.. As for example ; Let us now fuppofe Thurlow's black fowl, and Pepper Arden's nofe :■ But [ 39 ] But wlien your pencil's powers are bid to trace The fmiles of Devons-hire Duncannon's erace To bid the bhifli of beauteous Campbell rife, And wake the radiance of Augusta's* eyes, (Gad ! Mufe, thou art beginning to grow loyal) And paint the graces of the Princess Royal : Try all your art and when your toils are done. You fhow a Jlimfy 7neteor for a Sun. Or fliould your fkill attempt her face and air. Who fir'd my heart, and fix'd 'my roving eye]-- The Loves, who robb'd 2s^ world to make her fair. Would quickly triumph, and your art defy. Sweet NYMPH !— — but, reader, take the fong Which Cynthia's charms alone, infpir'd : That left of yore, the poet's tongue. When Love, his raptur'd fancy fir'd. SO N G. FROM her, alas ! whofe fmile was love, I wander to fome lonely cell : My fighs too 'weak the maid to move, I bid x.\\QjIatterery HOPE, farewel. * Second daug^hterof the Kliig^ Be [ 40 ] Be all her Siren arts forgot, That fiU'd my bofom with alarms : Ah ! let her crime a little fpot, Be loft amid ft her blaze of charms. As on I wander flow, my fighs, At ev'ry ftep for Cynthia mourn : My anxious heart within me dies, And fmking, whifpers, " Oh! return. " worn uoV Deluded heart I thy folly know Nor fondly nurfe the fatal flame By abfence^ thou fliall lofe thy woe ; And only flutter at her name. Readers I I own the fong of love is fweet : Moft pleaflng to the foul of ^^;2//^ Peter : Your eyes, then, with qimther let me treaty Oh, ge?itle Sirs, and in the fame fweet metre. SONG to DELIA. -M ". SAY, lonely maid, with down-caft eye- O Delia ! fay, with cheeks fo fale, What gives thy heart the length'ned flgh. That tells the world a mournful tale ? Thy [ 41 ] Thy tears that thus each other chace, Befpeak a bofom fwell'd with woe ; Thy fi.ghs, a ftorm that wrecks thy peace, Which fouls like thim iliould never know. Oh ! tell me, doth fome favour'd youth, With virtue tir'd, thy beauty flight ; And leave thofe thrones of love and truth. That lip, and bofom of delight ? Perhaps to nymphs of other fliades. He feigns the foft, impaflion'd tear, With fongs their eafy faith invades. That treach'rous won thy witlefs ear. Let not thofe maids thy envy move, :. For whom his heart may feem to pine That HEART can ne'er be bleft by We, Whofe guilt could force a pang from thine. ODE Xill. Pious Peter ack?iow!edgeth great Obligations to the Revsrejid Mr. Martin Luther — Tci lamefiteth the EffeEis of this- Parfons Reformation, o?z Painting. W E Protestants owe much to Martyn Luther, Who found to Heav'n a porter way and fnoothcr ; L And [ 42 ] .1 And fliall not foon repay die obligation : . Martyn againrt the Paeists got the laugh ; Who, as the butchers bleed and bang a calf To witenefs bled and bang'd unto falvatio7i : As if fuch drubbings could expel their fins j As if that Pow'i^, whole works with awe we view, Grac'd all our backs with lets, of comely Ikins, Then order'd us to beat them black and blue. Well then ! we mull confefs for certain, That much we owe to Mr. Martyn Who altered for the better, our religion Yet, by it, glorious Painting 77tuch did lofe^ Was pluck'd, poor Goddess ! like a goofe -y Or, for the rhyme-fake^ like a pigeon. Mad at the Whore of Babylon, and Bull, Down from the churches men began to pull Pidlures, that long had held a lofty ftation Pidlures of Saints, of pious reputation, For curing, by a mij-acle^ the ills, That now fo ftubborn yield not to devotiojis. But unto bliftcrs, bolulTes, and potions. That make fuch handfome 'pothecaries bills, Down [ 43 ] Down tumbled Anthony who preach'd to Sprats ' And HE * who held difcourfes with a Hog, That, grunting, after himfo us'd to jog ; Came down hy favour of long flicks and bats. The Saints who grinn'd on fpits, like ven'fon roafting. Broiling on gridir'ns baking in an oven ; Or on a fork, like cheefc of Chcfliire, tGoflmgy Or kick'd to death, by Satan's hoof fo cloven. All humbled to the ground were forc'd to fall Spits, forks, and gridir'ns, ovens, dev'l and all. Ev'n Saints of poor Old England's breeding. In wonders, rm-nj foreign ones, exceeding; Our hot REFORMERS did as roughly handle: In troth, poor harmlefs fouls ! they met no quarter. But down were tumbled, Miracle and Martyr; Put up in lots, and fold by inch of candle. Had we been Papifls Lord ! we ftill had feen Devils and Devil's mates, young pimping lyars Tempting the hluflmtg Nuns of frail fifteen, With gangs of ogling, roiy, wanton Friars : * Commonly known by the name of Pig Anthoky. Which [ 44 ] Which Nuns fo pure, no love-fpeech could cajole 'Who JIarvd the body, to preferve the foul. Then had we feen St. Dennis with his head Frefli in liis hand, and with affed:ion, ^ijfing \ As if the nob, that from his fhoulders fled, By knife or broad-fword, never had been mijfing \ Then had we feen, upon their friendly coatings Saints on the waves, like gulls and wigeons, floating. I've feen a Saint on board a fliip. To whom, for a fiir wind, the Papifl:s pray, Well flogg'd from fhem to fl;ern, by birch and wip, Poor wooden fellow ! twenty times a day : Puil'd by the nofe, and kick'd call'd lubber, owl. To make him turn a wind, to fail- from /o-jdI! And often this hath brought a profpVous gale, When pray'rs and curfes have been found to fail. T/jis, had vre Papifts been, had grac'd our churches, Saints, feamen, nofe-puUing, kicks, whips, and birches. ODE E 45: ] ODE XIV. Peter attacketh the Exotic R. A.'s. X E Royal Sirs, ^efo?'e I bid adieuy Let me inform you, fomz deferve my praife : But truft me, gentle Squires, ye are but few Whofe names would not dijgrace my lays ; You'll fay, with grinning, fliarp, farcallic face. We muft be bad ifideed, if tHat's the cafe Why, if the truth I muft declare, So, gentle fquires, you really are ! I'm" "greatly pleas'd, I muft allow, TcMee the Foi-eigners beat hollow ; Who ftole into that dome the Lord knows how - I hope to God no more will follow : Who, curs'd with a poor fniv'ling fpirit. Were never known to vote for merit Poor narrow-minded imps. Hanging together juft like fhrimps. M I own [ 46 ] I own, (lb little they have merited) That from yon noble dome, Made almoft an Italian and French home, I long to fee the vermin ferreted. Yet where's the houfe, however watch'd by cats. That can get rid of all its rats ? Or, if a prettier iimile may pleafe, Where is the bed that hath not fleas ? Or if a prettier Jt ill — —what London rugs* Have not at times been vijGited by bug^ ? D E XV. Peter taketh Leave — Difplayeth 'u:o7iderful Lear7ti72g — Seemeth forjy to part with his Readers — Adtninijlretb Crumbs of Co77ifort. JVXy deareft readers ! 'tis witK grief I tell, That now, for ever, I muft bid farewell ! Glad, if an ode of mine, with grifis^ can treat yey Valete : And if you like the Lyric Peter's oddity^ Plaudite. Rich as a Jew am I in L,atia7i lore So, clajfTic readers, take a fentence fitore : Pulchriwi [ 47 ] Pulchrum ejl jnonftrari digito et dicier hie eji ! Says Juvenal, who lov'd a bit of fame In Englifli Ah ! 'tis fwect amongft the thickcfl To be found out, and pointed at by name. To hear the JJjriftking great exclaim, " That's Peter, ** Who makes much immortality by metre ; *' Who nobly dares indulge the tuneful whim, ** And cares no more for Kings than Kings for hitn I " Yet one word more before we part Should any take it grievoufly to heart ; Look melancholy, pale, and wan, and thin, Like a poor pullet that hath eat a pin ; Put on a poor defponding face, and pine, Becaufe that Peter the Divine Refolves to give up Painting Odes : By all the rhyming GoddeiTes and Gods, I here, upon a poet's word, proteft. That if it is the world's requeft That I again in Lyrics fliould appear j Lo ! rather than be guilty of the fin Of loling George the Third oiie subject's ^'/;/j, My Lyric Bagpipe fhall be tun'd 7iext year, THE EN D, A Complete LIST of the PRODUCTIONS of PETER P I N D A R, Efq. Any of ivh'tch may be had of G. KEARSLET, No. 46, Fleet Street. A Poetical, Supplicating, EPISTLE to the REVIEWERS, THIRD Edition, Price One Shilling. LYRIC ODES to the ROYAL ACADEMICIANS for 1782, FIFTH Edition, Price Two Sliilllngs. Ditto for the Year 1783. FIFTH Edition, Price One Shilling and Sixpence. Ditto for the Year 1785, FIFTH Edition, Price Two Shillings and Sixpence. FAREWELL ODES for the Year 1786, FIFTH Edition, Price Three Shillings. The L.OUSIAD, Canto I. SEVENTH Edition, Price Two Shillings and Sixpence; Ditto, Canto II. FOURTH Edition, Price Two Shillings and Sixpence. Congratulatory EPISTLE to JAMES BOSWELL, Efqj SEVENTH Edition, Price Two Shillings. BOZZY and PIOZZI, a Town Eclogue, FIFTH Edition, Price Three Shillings. ODE UPON ODE, or a PEEP at St. JAMES's, SIXTH Edition, Price Three Shillings. An APOLOGETIC POSTSCRIPT to ODE UPON ODE, A new Edition, Price One Shilling and Sixpence. INSTRUCTIONS to a certain POET LAUREAT, SEVENTH Edition, Price Two Shillings and Sixpence. In the Prefs, and fpeedily ivill be publi/l.ied. Brother PETER to Brother TOM. *^* The THIRD Canto of the LOUSIAD is preparing for the Prefs. Brother PETER T O Brother TOM. A N EXPOSTULATORY EPISTLE. Br PETER PINDAR, Esq. LONDON: Printed for G. KEARSLEY, at Johnson's Head, No. 46, FiEEx Street. M,DCC,LXXXVIir. [ in ] CONTENTS. 1 ETER Jlar'ingly expofnilateth Kvitb Thomas on his unprecedented Jilence 07i the royal perfe^'wm in his laji Neiv-Tear s Ode — Giveth 'Thomas a Jobation — InJiruBelh Thomas in his trade — Talketh of Heralds, Moles, Field-mice, and General Caupenter — Tcllcth a Jlrange Jlory of the General — Commendeth Majefiy, and laudeth his love of money, ivith delicious fimiles — Peter informeth Thomas how he might have praifed Majc/iy for piety and (economy . — Peters great knowledge of nature — He talketh of her different manufadliires — Peter praifeth the royalP roc lama! ion for leaving off fm, and reforming fidling courtiers and others — Miflrefs Walsingiiam not able to fin on a Sunday — nor my Lady Young — nor my Lord of Exeter — nor my Lord Brudenell — "X'hofe excellence in attending on the Rump Royal, Peter highly extolleth — nor the JVelfj KingW atkyu — whife ■ poor violoncello Peter pitieth — nor my Lord 15/" Salisbury — Peter intiyna- teth an intended reform among cats and dogs, pigeons, ivrens, fparrozvs, and poultry — Love between the aforefaid animals to be feverely punifi'd if made on the Lord'' s day — Monday the mofi decent day — Sir John Dick giveth up Sunday Concerts for godlinefs — Sir fohns far his great hobby horfe — Lords Hampden and Cholmondeley reproved for profaning the ■ Sabbath by a full orchefira, ivhile the King enjoyeth only wind infiruments — Peter relateth a fad tale o/" German Musicians, and concludeth •vcilh a pathetic fimile of a woodcock — Peter returneth from digrejjion to Thomas — Peter afeth fhrewd quefions of Thomas — Tclleth a delegable little fory of the King andfcratch wigs — Declareth love for Majefy — Praifeth the part- nerfip — Peter denieth all odium toxvards his Sovereign, for ajealoufy of the Prince [ iv ] " Prince of Wales, for his rage for Handel,- and cnthiiflafm for Mr. West — Peter giveih two fimiles — Peter teHcth a tale — Peter Jl'ill infifteth 071 kvefor Majefly — Injlanceth royal magnanimity — ending ivith curiojity and 'national advantage — Peter flooweth the Kings fuperiority to the Prince in the article of booh — "The royal wardrobe's fuperiority to the fljops in Mon- mouth Street — Peter exprejfeih more love for Majefy — A tale — Peter maketb a marvellous difcovery of the caufe of T'homas s flence in the article of royal fiatlery — His Majefly too much bedaubed — T'be King fjuttetb up 'Thomas's mouth — Peter' telleth T'homas ho'vc he fould have managed — Peter defer ibeth a devil — Enquirethfor Modejly — Findeth her — Giveth a lovely picture of Mifs Morning — And her loyal fpeech to Peter — Peter cann-A exifl nor fub- fifl: ivith out Kings — Peter citeth the 'world's opinion of him — Peter finely anfwereth it — Peter feemeth glad — He afketh afiy quefion about Cartoons — Peter telleth an uncommon fory. — Peter continueth talking about Cartoons—^ Feareth that they are in jeopardy — Peter concludeth with fublime fimiles of trout, cels^ whales, goats, fheep, and good advice to Thomas. B R O T H E R tm^^t Brother PETER T O Brother TOM. AN EXPOSTULATORY EPISTLE. »3lIFE ! Thomas, what hath fwallow'd all the praife ? Of royal virtues not the flighteft mention ! Strung, like mock pearl, (o lately on thy lays ! Tell me, a bankrupt, Tom, is thy invention ? How cou'dft thou fo thy Patron's fame forget. As not to pay, of praife, the annual debt ? " ■ ^ Whitehead and Gibber, all the Laureat Throng, To Fame's fair Temple, twice a year, prefented Some royal virtues, real or invented, " M In all the grave fublimity of fong. B Heralds [ = ] Heralds fo kind for many a chance-born wight, Creeping from cellars, juft like fnails from earth ^ Or moles, or field-mice, 1-bealing into light. Forge Arms to prove a loftinefs of birth ;. Tracing of eacli ambitious Sir and Madam The branches to the very trunk of Adam.. Then why not thou, the herald, Tom, of rhime,, Still bid thy Royal Mailer foar fublime ? Bards ihine in fidion ; then how flight a thing: To make a coat of merit for a King I .Know, General Carpenter had been a theme For furniihing a pretty lyric dream ; Once a monopoUft of nod and fmiic :; Of broken fcntences and. queftions rare, Of fnipfnap whifpers fweet, and grin, and ftarci For which thy mufe would travel many a mile.. But lo ! the General, for a crying fin, Loft broken fentences, and nod, and grin,. And [ 3 ] And ftare and fnipfnap of the beft of Kings ; The fin, the crying fin, of rambling Where Ofnaburgh's good Bifhop, gambHng, Loft fome £&w golden feathers from his wings ; Which made th' unlucky General run and drown ; Such were the horrors of the royal frown ! For lo ! His M y moft roundly fvvore He'd nod to General Carpenter no more. Oh ! glorious love of all-commanding money !: Dear to Jome Monarchs, as to Bruin, honey ; Dear as to gamblers, pigeons fit to pluck ; Or fhow'rs to hackney coachmen or a duck ! Thomas, thy lyrics might have prais'd the King For makins; finners mind the Sabbath dav, Bidding the idle fons of pipe and ftring, Inftead of fcraping jigs, fing pfalms and pray Thus pioufly (againft their inclination) Dragooning fouls unto falvation*. ;' . -' r/ ,: ^'1 : i The [ 4 ] ThQ Monarch gave up Mr. Joah Bate, With that fweet nightingale his lovely mate ; Who with the organ and one fiddle Made up a concert every Sunday night : Thus yielding Majesties fupreme delight, , Who relifh cheapnefs e'en in tweedle tweedle. For Nature formeth oft a kind 4 Of money-loving, fcraping, fave-all mind, That happy glorieth in the nat'ral thought Of getting ev'ry thing for nought : From Delhi's diamonds to a Briftol ftone ; From royal eagles to a fquawling parrot ; From bulls of Bafan to a marrow-bone ,; From rich ananas to a mawkifli carrot : And getting things for nought, I needs mufl fay, If not the nobUp^ is the cheapejl way. And often nature manufactures fluff That thinks it never hath enough ; Hoard- [ 5 ] Hoarding up treafure never once enjoying Such is the compoiltion o{ fome fouls ! Like jackdaws all their cunning art employing. In hiding knives, and forks, and fpoons., in holes. Lo ! by the pious Monarch's proclamation, The courtier Amateurs ot this fair nation On Sundays con their Bibles make no riot The ftubborn UxbtvIdge, mufic-loving Lord, Pays dumb obedience to the royal word, • And bids the inftruments lie quiet. Sweet Miftrefs Walsingham is forc'd to pray, And turn her eyes up, much againft her will • Sandwich fmgs pfalms too, in his pious way ; And Lady Young forbears the tuneful trill ; And very politic is Lady Young : A hufband muft not fuffer for a fong. The gentle Exeter his treat gave up, So us'd upon the fweet repaft to fup ; • C ' As [ 6 ] As eager for his Sunday's quaver difB,- As cats and rav'nous Aldermen for fifli. Lord Brudenell, too, a Lord with lofty nofe, . Bringing to mind a verfe the world well knows ; Againft fublimity that rather wars ; Which in an almanack all eyes may fee : " God gave to man an upright form, that he '* Might view the Stars. " I fay this watchful Lord, who boafts the knack. Behind His Sacred Majefty's g7'eat back, Of placing for his latter end a chair Better than any Lord (fo fays Fame's trump) That ever waited on the royal rump, So fwift his motions, and fo fweet his air ; Who, if His Majefty but cough or hiccup, Trembles for fear the King ihould hck up ; Drops, with concern, his jaw with horror freezes —— Or fmiles *' God blefs you, Sir*;," whene'er he fneezes ; This [ 7 3 This Lord, I Hiy, nprais'd his convert chin, And curs'd the concert for a crying fin. King Watkin, from the land of leeks and cheefc. With lighs, forbore his bafs to feize ; With huge concern he dropp'd his Sunday airs, And grumbled out in Welfli his thanklefs pray'rs,. The b: '", indeed, Te Deum fung, :_ ^ Glad on the willows to be hung, . - . • • And really 'twas a very nat'ral cafe Poor, inoffenfive bafs I ; For when King Watkin fcrubbeth him alack 1 i The inftrument, like one upon the rack, . ^ Sends forth fuch horrid, Inquifition groans I ! Enough to pierce the hearts of flones ! : Thus though in concert politics the Knight Battled with Miftrefs Walsingham outright ; Yet both agreed to lift their palms, , Not in hoflilities, but linging pfalms. - Sal'seury [ 8 ] Sal's DURY was alfo order'd to refortn^ Who, with my Lady, thought it vaftly odd, Thus to be forc'd, like failors in a ftorm, Againfl their wills to pray to God. Thus did the royal mandate through the town. Knock nearly all the Sunday concerts down ! Great acl ! e'er long 'twill be a fin and fliame For cats to warble out an am'rous flame ! Dogs fliall be whipp'd for making love on Sunday, Who very well may put it ofF to Monday, Nay, more the royal piety to prove ; And aid the purefl: of all pure religions ; To Bridewell fliall be fent all cooing pigeons, And cocks and hens be lafli'd for making love ■: Sparrows and wrens be fliot from barns and houfes, For being barely civil to their fpoufes. Peer Sir John Dick was, lamb-like, heard to bleat At lofmg fuch a Sunday's treat -» Sir C 9 ] Sir John, the happy ov/ner ot ay/^r Which radiant honour on furtoiitcs he ftitches ; Lamenting fafliion doth not ftretch fo far As fcwing them on waiftcoats and on breeches ; Vv^'hich thus would pour a blaze of filver day, And make the Knight a perfect milky way. "" "' Yet Hampden, Cholmond*ly, thofc finful flmvcrS) Rebellious, riot in their Sabbath quavers ; -■ Thus flying in the face of our great King, * - - - , Prophane God's rejltjig day with wind and firing ; Whilft on the Terrace, 'midft his German band. On Sunday evenings George is pleas'd to ftand ; Contented with a fimple tune alone, *' God fave great George our King, " or Bobbing Joan ; Whilfl: Cherubs, leaning from their ftarry height, - ' " ■ Wink at each other, and enjoy the fight: ' - --'"'[' '' And Satan, from a lurking hole, Fond of a feeming-godly foul, D His [ ^° ] His eyes and ears fcarce able to believey. Laughs in his fleeve. Stay, Mufe the mention of the German band: Bringeth a tale opprefTive, to my hand, Relating to a tribe of German boys, Whofe horrid fortune made fome little noife ;' Sent for to take of Engliflimen the places. Who, gall'd by fuch hard treatment, made wry facesx Sent for they were, to feed in fields of clover^ To feaft upon the Coldftream regiment's fat: ■ Swift with their empty flomachs they flew over^ And wider than a Kevenhuller hat. But ah ! their knives no veal nor mutton carv'd ! To feafts they went indeed, but went 2irA fiarvdl Their Mailers, raptur'd with the tuneful treat. Forgot muiicians like themfelves cou'd eat. Thus the poor woodcock leaves his frozen fliores, When tyrant V/inter 'midft his tempefts roars ; Invited [ " ] Invited by our milder fky, he roves ; Views the pure ftreams with joy, and fhelt'ring groves, And in one hour, Oh ! fad reverfe of fate ! Is iliot, and fmokes upon a poacher's plate ! Thus ending a fweet epifodic ftrain, . > • Iturn, dear Thomas, to thy Ode again. What ! make a difh to balk thy Mafter's gums l! A pudding, and forget the plums ! Mercy upon us ! what a cook art thou ! Dry e'en already ! what a fad milch cow ! . Who gav'ft, at firft, of fame fuch flowing pails ! Say, Thomas, what thy lyric udder ails ? , ••. . Since truth belongs not to the laureat trade, 'Tis ftrange, 'tis paffing ftrange, thou didft not flatter : Speak in light money were thy wages paid ? Or was thy pipe of fack half liU'd with water ? ' Or haft thou, Tom, been cheated of thy dues ? Or hath a qualm of confcicncc toucli'd thy Mufe ? Thou t " ] I'hoii might'ft have prais'd for dignity of ^ide Diiplay'd not long ago among the Cooks : Searching the kitchen with fagacious looks ; WigSj chriflned ^^r^/cZ'^j', on their heads, he fpicd. To find a wig on a cook's head Juft like the wig that grac'd his own, Was verily a fight too dread ! Enough to turn a kino; to ftone ! On which, in language of his very hejl.y His Majefty his royal ire exprefs'd. " How, how! what! Cooks v/earycr^^/^i^^yjuft like me !- *' Strange! ftrange ! yes, yes, I fee, I fee, 1 fee — " Fine fellows to wear fcratches ! yes, no doubt — " I'll have no more — no more when mine's worn out — " Hs? pretty! pretty! pretty too it looks " To fee my fcratches upon Cooh /" -And lo ! as he had threatened all fo big ; As foon as ever he wore out the wig ; He [ '.1 1 He v.'ith a pig- tat I deign'd his head to match !- — Nor more pro fan' d his temples with a Scratch ! rJiomas, I fee mv fonq; thy feehngs orratc '.rhoii thinlv'H: I'm joking; that the King's my liatc. The world may call me lyar, but iincerely I love him — — for a partner, love him dearly : Whilfi: his great name is on the ferme^ I'm fiirc - My credit with the Public is fecure. Yes, beef fliall grace my fpit, and ale {hall flow, As long as it continues George and Co. ; That is to fay, in plainer metre, George and Peter. Yet, as fome little money I have made, -_ '» I've thoughts of turning Squire^ and quitting trade : This in my mind I've frequently revolv'd j And in fix months, or fo. For all I know, ' ' * ■ The partnerfhip may be diflblv'd. ' .» '/ E Whate'er [ '4 ] Whate'er thou think'ft however the world may carp, Thomas, I'm far from hating our good King ; Yes, yes, or may I thrum no more my harp, As David fwore, who touch'd fo v/ell the firing — No, Tom ; the idol of thy fweet devotion Excites not hate, whatever elfe th' emotion. To write a book on the Sublime, I own, Were I a bookfeller, I would not hire him ; Yet, fliould I hate the man who fills a throne, Becaufe, forfooth> I can't admire him ? Hate him, becaufe, ambitious of a name. He thinks to rival e'en the Prince in fame ? A Prince of fcience in the arts fo chafte ! A giant to him in the world of tafte j Who from an envious cloud one day fhall fpring. And prove that dignity may clothe a King. Who when by Fortune fixM on Britain's throne. Wherever merit, humble plant, is fhown. V/ili [ ^5 ] Will fKed around that plant a foft'ring ray ; Whofe hand fliall ftretch through poverty's pale gloom For drooping Genius, finking to the tomb, And lead the bluihing ftranger into day. Who fcorns ( like y2';;;^y to chronicle a fhilling, " Once in a twelvemonth to a beggar giv'n y By fuch mean charity ( Lord help 'cm ) willing To go as cheap as poflible to Heav'n ! •. ... Hate him, becaufe, untir'd, the Monarch pores On Handel's manufcript old fcores, ... And fchemes fuccefsful daily hatches, For faving notes o'erwhelm'd with fcratches ; Recoverinsf from the blotted leaves Huge cart-horfe minims^ dromedary breves ;. Thus faving damned bars from juft damnation^ By way of brightning Handel's reputation ? Who, charm'd with cv'ry crotchet Handel wrote, Heav'd into To "'nam Street each heavy note : And forcing on the houfe the tunelefs lumber> Drove half to doors, the other half to flumbcr ? Hate [ x6 ] Hate him, becaufe the works of Mr. West, His eye (in wonder loR) unfated views ? Becaufe his walls, with taftelefs trumpery dreft, Robs a poor fignpoft of its dues ? Hate him, becaufe he cannot reft - But in the company of Weft ? Becaufe of modern works he makes a jeft, Except the works of Mr. Weft ? Who by the public, fiin would have careft The works alone of Mr. Weft ! Who thinks, of painting, truth and tafte, the teft, None but the wond'rous works of Mr. Weft ! Who, as for Reynolds, cannot bear him ; And never fuffers Wilson's landfcapes near him. Nor, Gainsb'rough, thy delightful Girls and Boys, In rural fcenss fo fweet, amidft their joys, With fuch frmplicity as makes us Jiart^ Forgetting 'tis the work of art. Which [ '7 3 which wonder and which care of Mr. Weft May in a limile be well cxpreft : A SIMILE.. THUS have I feen a child with fmiling face, A little daify in the garden place, . .- ' And ftrut in triumph round its fav'rite fiowV , Gaze on the leaves with infant admiration, Thinking the flov/'r the fineft in the nation, ' . ■ . ' Then pay a vifit to it ev'ry hour : Lugging the wat'ring pot about, Which John the gard'ner was oblig'd to fill •, ' . The child, fo pleas'd, would pour the water out. To fhow its marvellous gard'ning fkill ; Then flaring round, all wild for praifes panting, ' • • • fc Tell all the world it was its own fweet planting ; And boaft away, too happy elf, How that it found the daifey all, itfelf ! F ANOTHER C x8 ] ANOTHER SIMILE. I N Jimi/e if I may fhine agen, Thus have I feen a fond old hen With one poor miferable chick j Buftling about a farmer's yard ; Now on the duno-hiil labourino; hard, Scraping away through thin and thick : Flutt'ring her feathers making fuch a noife \ Cackling aloud fuch quantities of joys, As if this chick, to which her egg gave birth, Was born to deal prodigious knocks, To fhine the Broughton of game cocks, And kill the fowls of all the earth 1 E'EN with his painter let the King be bleft ; . Egad! eat, drink, and fleep, with Mr. West: Only let mc^ excus'd from fuch a gueft, Not eat, and drink, and ileep, with Mr. Weft ; And [ '9 ] And as he will not pleafe my tafte no never- Let me not give him to the world as clever A better confci^nce in my bofom lies, Than imitate the fellow and his flies. The TOPER and the F L I E S. A GROUP of topers at a table fat, With punchy that much regales the thirfty foul : Flies foon the party join'd, and join'd the chat. Humming, and pitching round the mantling bowl. At length thofe flies got drunk ^ and for their fln. Some hundreds loft their legs and tumbled in ; And fprawling 'midft the gulph profound, Like Pharaoh and his daring hoft, were drown 'd ! Wanting to drink — one of the men . Dipp'd from the bowl the drunken hoft. And drank — then taking care that none were loft, . He put in ev'ry mother's fon agcn. , Up [ 2= ] Up jump'd the bacchanalian crew on this. Taking it very much amifs Swearing, and in the attitude to fmite : — " Lord!" cried the man wit'* gravely-hfted eyes " Though I don't like to fwallow flies, I did not know hnt others might. '^ WHO fays I hate the King, proclaims a lie I :E'en now a royal virtue ftrikes my eye ! To prove th' aiTertion, let me juft relate The King's rubmiflion to the will of Fate. Whene'er in hunts the Monarch is thrown out. As in his politics a common thing ! With fearching eyes he flares at firft about, Theii fices the misfortune like a Ki72g ! Hearing no news of nimble Mr. Stag, He fits Hke Patience grinning on his nag! Now, [ =1 3 Now, wifdom-fraughtj his curious eyeballs ken The little hovels that around him rife : To thefe he trots — of hogs furveys the ftyes. And nicely numbers ev'ry cock and hen. : Then afks the farmer's wife or farmer's maid. How many eggs the fowls have laid ! What's in the oven — in the pot — the crock Whether 'twill rain or no, and what's o'clock. Thus from poor hovels gleaning information, To ferve as future treafure for the nation ! There, terrier like, till pages find him out. He pokes his moft fagacious nofe about. And feems in Paradife like that fo fam'd ; Looking like Adam too, and Eve fo fair ; Sweet fimpletons ! who, though fo very bare^ • " Were (fays the Bible) not apajtid.'^ No man binds books fo well as George the Third, By thirft of leather glory fpurr'd V '-- G At [ " ] At bookbinders he oft is feen to laugh And wond'rous is the King in iheep or calf ! But fee ! the Prince upon fuch labour looks Faftidious down, and only readeth books ! — Here by the Sire the Son is much furpafs'd ; Which Fame fhould publifli on her loudefl hlajl ! The King beats Monmouth Street in cafl-off riches That is, in coats, and waiftcoats, and in breeches - Which, draughted once a year for foreign ftations. Make fine recruits to ferve feme Jiear relations. But lo ! the Prince, fiiame on him! never dreams Of pretty Jevvifli, oeconomic fchemes ! So very proud, (I'm griev'd, O Tom, to tell it) He'd rather give a coat away than fell it ! Fair juftice to the Monarch mufl: allow Prodigious fcience in a calf or cow ; And wifdom in the article of fwine f What moft unufual knowledge for a King ! Becaufe pig wifdom is a tlmig In which no Sov'reigns e'er v/ere known to fJjme, Yet [ ^3 ] Yet who will think I am not telling fibs ? • The Prince, who Britain's throne in time iliall grace, Ne'er finger'd at a fair, a bullock's ribs, Nor ever ogled a pig's face ! " ' • . " G dire difgrace ! O let it not be known That thus a father hath excell'd a fon ! Truth bids me own that I can bring A dozen who admh^e the King j.. And fliould he dream of fetting ofi* for Hanover, As once he faid he wou'd, to fpite Charles Fox ; Draw all his litth money from the ftocks, ' Shut fhop, and carry ev'ry pot and pan over ; I think indeed I'm yz<;r^ I know, I'hat dozen v/ould not let him go ; But in the ftruggle fpend their vital breath, _ And hug their idol, probably to death j As happen'd to a Romifli Prieft a tale - That, whilft I tell it, almoft turns me pale. The C 24 ] The ROMISH P Pv I E S T. A TALE. A PARSON in the neighbourhood of Rome, Some years ago how many, I don't fay Handled fo well his heav'nly broom, He brufhd, like cobwebs, fms away. Brightned the black horizon of his paridi ; Gave to the Prince of Darkness fuch hard blows, That Satan was afraid to fhow his nofe, (Except in hell), before this prieft fo warrifh ! To teach folks how to fliun the paths of evil, And prove a match for Mr. Devil, Was conftantly this pious man's endeavour. And, as I've faid before, the man was clever. Red-hot was all his zeal and Fame declares. He gallop'd like a hunter o'er his pray'rs ; For . C =5 ] For ever lifting to the clouds his forehead - Petitions on petitions he let Ry^ Which nothing but Barbarians could deny- In fliort, the Saints were to compliance worried. With fhoulders, arms, and hands, this pried devout, So well his evolutions did perform ; . , His pray'rsj thofe holy fmallfhot, flew about So thick ! it feem'd like taking Heav'n hy Jlorm ! Without one atom of reflection, No candidate at an election ' ' - • ' . Did ever labour more, and fume, and fweat, To make a fellow change his coat, And blefs him with the cafliing vote, '•''«' Than this dear man to get in Heav'n a feat For fouls of children, women, and of men : No matter which the fpecies cock or hen ! Thus did he not like that vile Jefait think : ^ Who makes us all with horror flirink, H A knave [ =6 ] - A knave high meriting Hell's hotteft coals ; Who wrote a dreadful book, to prove That \yomen, charming women, form'd for love. Have got no fouls I Monfler ! to think that Vv^oman had no foul ! Ha I haft i/jou not a foul, thou peerlefs Maid, Who bidfl: my rural hours with rapture roll ? Whofe beauties charm the fhepherds and the fhade i Yes, Cynthia, and for fouls like thine. Fate into being drew yon ftarry fphere ; Then kindly fent thy form divine. To fhow what wond'rous blifs inhabits there f In fhort, no drayhorfe ever work'd fo hard, From vaults, to drag up hogfhead, tun, or pipe. As this good prieft, to drag, for fmall vcwavdy The fouls of fmners from the Devil's gripe. Pleas'd [ =7 ] Pleas'd were the highejl angels to exprefs Their wonder at his fine addrefs ; And pow'r againft the Fiend who makes Rich ftrife Nay, e'en St. Peter faid, to whom are giv'n The keys for letting people into Heav'n, He never got more halfpence in his life. 'Twas added that my namefake did declare , (Peter, the porter of Heav'n gate, fo trufty ;) That till this prieft appear'd, fouls were fo rare His bunch of keys was> abfolutely rufly ! Did Gentlemen of fortune die. And leave the Church a good round fum ; Lo ! in the twinkHng of an eye The parfon frank'd their fouls to kingdom-come ! A letter to the Porter, or a word, Inaur'd admittance to the Lord, Nor [ ^8 3 Kor ftopp'd thofe fouls an inftant on the road To take a roajl before they enter'd in ; For had they got the Plague^ 'twas faid that God Had let them enter without quaraiit'me. Well then ! this parfon was fo much admir'd, So fought, fo courted, fq delir'd, Thoufands with putrid fouls, like putrid meat, Came for his holy pickle, to be fweet : Juft as we fee old hags with jaws of carrion, Enter the fhop of Mr. Warren ; Who difappoints that highwayman call'd Time, (Noted for robbing Ladies of their prime,) By giving Sixty Five's pale, wither'd mien. The blooming rofes of Sixteen. Such varl: impreiTions did his fermons make, He always kept his flock awake In fummer too hear, parfons, this ftrange news, Ye who fo often preach to nodding pews ! A neighboring [ =9 ] A neighb'ring town, into whofc people's fouls Sin, like a rat, liad eat large holes, Begg'd him to be their tinker tlieir holeftoppcr For, gentle reader, lin of fucli a fort is, It fouls corrodeth juft as aqtia fori is Corrodeth iron, brafs, or copper. They told him they would give him better pay, If he'd agree to change his quarters ; Protefting, when his foul fhould leave its clay, To rank his bones with thofe of Saints and Martyrs. This was a handfome bribe all Papifts know ! But ftop his parifh would not kt him go Then, furly did the other parifli look, -, And fwore to have the man by Hook or Crook. . So feiz'd him, like a gracelefs throng The prieft's parifhioners, who lov'd him well-. Rather than to another church belong. Swore they would fooner fee him lodg'd in Hell I - So [ 30 ] So violent was their objedlioii ! So very ftrong, too, their afFedion ! The Ladies, too, united in the flrife y Protefting that they *' lov'd him as their life, '* So fweetly he would look when clozvn to pray'r I " So happy in a fermon choice ; " And then he had of nightingales the voice ** And holy water gave with Juch an air ! *' Lord ! lofe To fine a man ! fo great a treafure I *' Yielding fuch quantities of heavenly pleafure ! ** Forgiving fins fo free, too, at confeffion, '* However carnal the tranfgreflion, **,In fuch a charming, love-condemning ftrain ! ** He really feem'd to fay ' Go fin again ; *• Hell fhall not throw, my angels, on your fouls " So fweet, a fingle fiiovelful of coals. " Now [ 3' ] , . Now in the iire was all the flit : ' ■ ' Juft as two bulldogs pull a cat, Both Dariflies with furious zeal contended So heartily the holy man was hugg'd, So much from T-)lace to place his limbs were luw'd. That very fatally the battle ended ! , In il-iort, by hugging, lugging, and kind fqucezcs, The man of God was puU'd in hfty pieces ! This work performed, the bones were fought for floutly ; And fo the fray continued moft devoutly Lo with an arm, away one rafcal fled ; This with a leg, and that the head — — Off with the foot another goes - Another feizes him and gets the toes. Nay, fome, a relick fo intent to crib, Fought juH: like maftiffs for a rib ; ' Nay more, (for truth, to tell the whole, obliges) A dozen battled for his Os Coccygis * / ' * The tip of the rump. ' ', Heav'n, [ 32 ] Heav'n, that fses all things, faw the dire difpute, In which each parilli afted like a brute ; Then bade the dead man as a Saint be fought ; Still, to reward him more, Iiis bones enriches With pow'r o'er Evils, Rheiimatifms, and Itches, However dreadful, and wherever caught : Thus, by the grace of Him who governs thunder, His very toe nail could perform a nvo7ider. Thus might our Monarch, by this dozen men. Be hugg'd ! and then ! and then ! and then ! and then ! Then what r why, then, this direful ill muft fpring : I a good JuhjeEi lofe, and thou a King ! No, Tom ; no more to ftrike us with amaze, Thy courtly tropes of adulation blaze : A fetting fun art thou, fo mild thy beam ! Thou (like old Ocean's heaving wave no more, That lifts a fhip and fly with equal roar) Pour'ft from thy lyric pipe a fobcr ftream. - No [ 33 ] No more we hear the gale of Fame Wild bluft'ring with thy Master's name : No more ideal virtues ride fublime, (Like feathers) on the furge of rhyme. But lo the caufe ! it was the royal will To bid the tempeft of his praife be flill : No more to let his virtues make a rout, Blown by thy blafts like paper kites about Indeed thy Sovereign in thy verfe fo fine. Might juftly have exclaim'd at many a line, *' In peacock's feathers, lo, this knave arrays me. " And like a King of France of whom I've read, Our gracious Sov'reign alfo might have fuid, *' What have I done that he fhould praife me ? " With pity have I i<^^^ thee, Son of Song, - Trundling thy lyric wheelbarrow along, . Amidft St. James's gapers to unload The motley mafs of pompous ode ; K And [ 34 ] And wifn'd the lack, for verfe the annual prize. To poets of a lefs renown To poor Will Mason, who in fecret fighs To flirut beneath the Laureat's leaden crown» ■ Wai'm in the praife thou might'll have been. Of thy great King and his great Queen ; But not fo diabolically hot- A downright devil, or a pepper-pot. By Devlj (without thy being born a wizard) Thou ought'ft to know I mean a turkey's gizzard y Spchriftned for its quality, by man, Becaufe fo oft 'tis loaded with kian This dev'l is fa ch a red-hot bit of meat As nothing; but the dev'l himfelf fhould eat. A fpoo?i was large enough, the world well knows ! Why give the pap of praife then with a ladle P — Gently thou fhou'd'ft have rock'd him to repofe Not like a drunken nurfe o'erturn'd the cradle. I do [ 35 ] I do not marvel that the King was wrath, (Knowing himfelf no bigger than a lath) To find himfelf a tall, gigantic oak 'Twas too much of a magic-lantern ftroke. Ah ! where was Modesty, the charming maid ? Where was the rural vagrant ftraying, Not to admonifh thee, an idle jade, When thou thy tuneful compliments wert paying ? Yet why this queftion put I, Tom, to thee? Lord ! how we wits forgret ! flie was with mc- Dear Modefty (by very few carefl:,) Oft condefcends to be mv Q-ueft : From time to time, the maid my rhyme reviews: And didlates fweet inftruclions to the mufe.. ' - . Yes, frequent deigns my cottage to adorn,. Juft like that blufhful damfel call'd Miss Morn - Wto, C 36 3 Who fmiling from the dreary caves of night, Moves from her eaft with filent pace and flow O'er yonder fliadowy mount's gigantic brow. And to my window fteals with dewy light, Then peeping through the panes with cherub mien. Seems to aik liberty to enter in. Now vent'ring on the fables of my room, She fweeps the darknefs with her flar-clad broom : Now pleas'd a ftronger fplendor to difFufe, Smiles on the plated buckles in my fhoes ; Smiles on my breeches, too, of handfome plufh, Where George's heads once made no gingling found, But where amidft the pockets all was hufh ; Such awful filence reign'd around ! Whofe fob, which thieves fo often pick, Was quite a flranger to a watch's click. Now cafting on my pen and ink a ray Seeming with fweet reproof to fay, a The [ 37 ] ** The lark to Heav'n her grateful mattins fings*. '* Then, Peter, alfo ope thy tuneful throat, *' And, happy in a fafcinating note, '* Rife and bewitch the befl: of Kings. " Howe'er the world t' abufe me may be giv'n, I cannot do without Crown'd Heads, by Heav'n! Bards mufl have fubjecls that their genius fuit ^■■ And if I've not Crown'd Heads, I muft be mute. ' _ My verfe is fomewhat like a game at Whifl: ; - Which game, though play'd by people e'er fo keen, Cannot with much fuccefs, alas ! exift, " Except their hands poffefs a King and Queen. I own, my mufe delights in royal folk : Lead-mines, producing many pretty pounds I Joe Millars, furnifhing a fund of joke ! Lo, with a fund of joke a court abounds! At royal follies, Lord ! a lucky hit Saves our poor brain th' expence of wit i ■ L - At [ 38 ] At Princes let but Satire lift his gun, The more their feathers fly, the more the fun. E'en the whole world, blockheads and men of letters. Enjoy a cannonade upon their betters, I And, vice verfa^ Kings and Queens Know pretty well what fcandal means, And love it too yes, Majefty's a grinner : Scandal that really would difgrace a ftable Hath oft been beckoned to a royal table. And pleas'd a princely palate more than dinner. I know the world exclaimeth in this guife : " Suppofe a King not overwife, *' (A vice in Kings not very oft fufpe<3:ed) ^' Suppofe he does this childifli thing, and this, ** If folly conftitutes a Monarch's blifs, '* Shall fuch by faucy poets Hand corredled ? (( Bold • [ 39 J; *' Bold is the man, " old Parfon CalcHa-s * cries. " Who tells a Monarch where his error lies. " — " Grant tliat a King in converfe cannot fhine, ** And iharp with fhrew'd remark a world alarm j *' What buiinefs, Peter Pindar, is't of thine ? " Grant puerilities pray where's the harm? "— To' this I anfwer, *' I don't think a Kino; *' Will go to hell for ev'ry childifh thing '* Yet mind, I think that one in his great ftation ** Should £how fublime example to a nation: " And when an eagle he fhould fpring ~ *' To drink the folar blaze on tow'ring wing ; *' With daring and undazzled eyes ; " Not be a fparrow upon chimneys hopping, , ** His head in holes and corners popping " For fues. . * Vide Homer. Tom, [ +0 ] Tom, I'm not griev'd that thou haft chang'd thy nv And op'd on V/indfor wall thy tuneful throat ; For verily it is a rare old mafs ! Nor angry that to West thou doft defcend ; The King^s great painting oracle and friend, Who teacheth Jervas how to fpoil good glafs.. But, fon of Is IS, fnice amidft this ode, Thou talk' ft of painting, like an ardent lover. Of panes of glafs now daubing over, Dimming delightfully the great abode ; Speak know'ft thou aught of Raphael's rare Cartons? I have not feen them, Tom, for many moons ! Why did'ft thou not, amidft thy rhyming fit, Of thofe moft heav'nly pidures talk a bit For which the Nation paid down Q-vrjfoufe ? Rare pidures, brought long fince from Hampton Court, And by 2. f elf -taught Carpenter cut fhort, To fuit the pannels of the Queen's old houfe. So L 41 J So fays report 1 hope it is not true And yet I verily believe it too ; It is fo like fo?ne people I could name, Whofe perkra7iiutns walk a little lame. Befhrew me, but it brings to mind A cutting ftory, much of the fame kind! It happ'd at Plymouth town fo fair and fweet^ Where wandering gutlfers, wandering guffers meet. Making in fliow'rs of rain a monft'rous pother ; , Bart'ring, like Rag-Fair Jews, with one the other, With carrots, cabbage leaves, and breathlefs cats. Potatoes, turnip tops, old rags, and hats : , A town that brings to mind Swift's City ShowV Where clouds to wafh its face for ever pour A town where Beautraps under water grin. Inviting gentle flrangers to walk in ; Where dwell the Lady Naiads of the flood, Prepar'd to crown their viiitors with mud. M A town [ 43 ] A town where parfons for the LivinT fisht. On every vacancy, v/ith godly might, Like wrefllers lor lac'd hats and biickfkin breeches ; Where oft the priefl: who beft his lungs employs To make the rareft diabolic noife. With fiireft chance of vid'ry preaches : Whofe empty founds alone his labours blefs ; Like cannon fir'd by vefiels in diftrefs.^. A town where, exil'd by the Higher Pow'rs, The Royal Tar with indignation lours ; Kept by his Sire from London, and from fin, To fay his Catechifm to Miftrefs Wynn. The [ 43 ] The PLYMOUTH CARPENTER and the COFFINS. IN the laft war French pris'ners often died • ^ Of fevers, colds, and more good things befide : Prefents for valour, from damp walls, and chinks, - And nakednefs, that feldom fees a fhirt ; .. '. . , , . . , ; ::!i brdq v-.;fb ii a A And vermin, and all forts of dirt ; n cA- And multitudes of niotley ftinks,. ' ' That micrht with fmells of any clime compare -> . . That ever fought the nofe or fields of air. , ^- » -, • . As coffins are deem'd necellary things, -■"'^ " ^- ':3 •i;!-! Forming a pretty fort of wooden wings «• co:;j Jlrco rnc. /v For wafting men, to graves, for t'other world; ' j •- '! Where anchor'd, (doom'd to make no voyages more) ' ■■ . The rudders of our fouls are put afhore, And all the fails for ever furl'd. '-'; > i.rj.. A carpenter, [ 4+ ] A carpenter, firlt couini to the May'r, Hight mafter Screw, a man of reputation, Got leave, through borough int'reft, to prepare Good wooden lodgings for the Gallic nation : I mean, for lucklefs Frenchmen that were dead ; And very well indeed Screw's contra6l fped. His good friend Death made wonderful demands, As if they play'd into each other's hands ; As if the Carpenter and Death went fnacks Wifhing to make as much as e'er they cou'd By this fame contradl coffin wood. For fuch as Death had thrown upon their backs. This Carpenter, like men of other trades Whom confcience very eafi.ly perfuades To take from neighbours ufelefs fuperfluity ; Reiblv'd upon an economic plan, Which fhows that in the character of man Economy is not an incongruity. I know C 45 ] I know Tome monarchs fliy the fame — whofe piilies Beat high for iv'iy chairs and beds and bulfes. For lo, this man of economic fort Made all his coffins much too fliort, Yet fnugly he accomodates the dead • ■ . ; Cuts off, with rmich. fang froid, the head, And then to keep it fife as well as warm, .f ;"' He gravely puts it underneath the arm ; Making his dead man quite a Paris beau ! Holding his jowl en chapeau bras, :i, ' • But, Thomas, now to thofe Cartons of fame Do afk thy Sov'reign in my name What's to be done with thofe rare pi<5tures next ; Some months ago, by night, they travell'd down To the Queen's Houfe in Windfor town. At which the London folks were vaftly vex'd. N For [ +6 ] For if thofe fine Cartons, as hift'ry fays, Were (much to this great nation's praife) Bought for the nation's fole infpeclion ; U?iaJKd to fufFer any man to feel 'em Or fuffer any forward dame to fteal 'em Would be a national refledion. Tom, afk, to Strelitz if they're doom'd to go; Becaufe the walls are naked there, I know Strelitz a moufe-hole is, all dark and drear ; And (hou'd the pictures be inclin'd to ftray, Not liking Strelitz, they may lofe their way. And ramble to fome Hebrew audioneer : Where like poor captur'd negroes in a knot. The holy wand'rers may be made a lot And like the goods at Garraway's we handle, Chrift and the Saints be fold by inch of candle I Dearly [ 47 ] Dearly beloved Thomas, to conclude ! (I fee thee ready to bawl out *' amen : "^ Joking apart, don't think me rude For vvifliing to inftrudl thy lyric pen. Whether like trout and eels in humble pride. Along the {Imple ftream of profe we glide ; Or ftirring from below a cloud of mud, Like whales we flounder through the lyric flood ; Or if a paft'ral image charm thee more ; Whether the vales of profe our feet explore, Or rais'd fublime on ode's aerial fleep, We bound from rock to rock like goats and flieep ; Whether v/e dine with Dukes on fifty diflies. Or, poet-like, againfl ur wiflies. On beef or pork, an economic crumb, (Perchance not bigger than our thumb, Turn'd t 48 ] Turn'd by a bit of packthread at the iire,) To fatisfy our hunger's keen defire ; A good old proverb let us keep in view- — Fiz. Thomas, " give the dcv'l his due. " Whether a Monarch, iiTuing high comiTiand, Smiles us to court, and fhakes us by the hand ; Or rude bumbailiiis touch us on the ihoulder, And bid our tuneful harps in prifon moulder ; Sell not (to meannefs funk) one golden line The Muse's incenfe for a gill of wine. This were a poor excufe of thine, my friend' '* Few are the people that my Ode attend : " I'm like a country clock, poor, lonely thing, " That on the ftaircafe, or behind the door, ** Cries ' Cuckow, Cuckow,' juft at twelve and four, •* And chimes that vulgar tune *' God fave the King" Oh [ 49 ] Oh ! if deferting Windsor's lofty tovv'rs, To fave a fixpence in his barrack bow'rs, A Monarch fhuffles from the world away. And giv^es to Folly's whims the buftling day ; From fuch low themes thy promis'd praife recall, And fing more wonders of the old Mud Wall. THE END. THE Proprietors of the Works of PETER PINDAR, EsQ^ find themfclves obliged on account of the frequent Piracies of his Produ6lions, to offer Ten Guineas reward on the conviction of any offender. — The money to be im- mediately paid by the Publifher, and the name or names of the communicating Party concealed. A Complete LIST of tne PRODUCTIONS of PETER PIN D A R, Efq. yf/zy of ivhkb may be hjd cf G. KEARSLET, No. ^6,- Fleet Street. A Poetical, Supplicating, EPISTLE to the REVIEWERS, THIRD Eiiltion, Price One Shilling. LYRIC ODES to the ROYAL ACADEMICIANS for 1783, FIFTH Edition, Pi ice Two Shillings. Ditto for the Year- 1783. FIFTH Edition, Price One Shilling and Sixpence. Ditto for the Year 1785, FIFTH Edition, Price Two Shillings and bixpcnce. FAREWELL ODES for the Year 1786, FIFTH Editron,- Price Three Shillings. The LOUSIAD, Canto I. SEVENTH Edition, Price Two Shillings and Sixpence; Ditto, Canto II. FOURTH Edition, Price Two Shillings and Sixpence. Congratulatory EPISTLE to JAMES BOSWELL, Efq; SEVENTH Edition, Price Two Shillings. BOZZY and PIOZZI, a Town Eclogue, FIFTH Edition, Price Three Shillings. ODE UPON ODE, or a PEEP at St. JAMES's, SIXTH Edition, Price Three Shillings. An APOLOGETIC POSTSCRIPT to ODE UPON ODE,, A n-w Edition, Price One Shilling and Sixpence. INSTRUCTIONS to a certain POET LAUREAT, SEVENTH Edition, Price Two Shillings and Sixpence. *=j.* the 'THIRD Canto of the LOUSIAD is preparing for the Prefs. SUBJECTS FOR PAINTERS. By peter PINDAR, Esq u ike. " Qui veut peindre pour I'lmmortalitc, " Doit peindre d« Sots." FoNTENELlE. A NEW EDITION. LONDON: Printed for G. KEARSLEY, at John»ojj's Head, No. 46, Fleet Street, M.DCC.LXXXIX. Price THREE SHILLINGS and SIX PENCE. ENTERED AT STATIONERS' HALL* • ^ ToTHE READER. J. H E rage tor hiftorical Piclures in tiiis kingdom, To nobly rewarded by Meffrs. Boydell and Macklin, hath, with • • * ' ' the great encouragement ot two or three of the principal Mufes, tempted me to offer fubjedis to the labourers in the graphic vineyard. When Shakefpearc and Milton are ex- hauftedj I may prefume that the following Odes, Tales, and Hints, in preference to the labours of any other of our Britifh bards, may be adopted by the bruOi of Genius. Had I not thus ftepped forward as the champion of my own merit, which is deemed fo neceflary now-a-days lor the obtention of pubhc notice, not only by authors, but by tetemakcrs, perfumers, elaftic trufs, and Parliament fpeechmakers, &c., who, in the daily newfpapers, are the heralds of their own fplendid abilities, I might poffibly be paffed by without obfervation, and thus a great part of a poetical immortality be facrificed to a pitiful fnauvaife honte. Scene, the ROYAL ACADEMY. X EACE and good will to this fair meeting! — I come not with hoftility, but greeting Not eagle-like to fcream, but dove-like coo it- I come not with the fword of vengeance, rhyme, To llafh, and acl as journeyman to Time The God himfelf is juft arrived to do it.. To make each feeble figure a poor corfe, I come not with the fhafts of fatire fporting ; Then view me not like Stubbs's flaring horfe, With terror on th' approaching lion fnorting : . I come to bid the hatchet's labours ceafe, And fmoke with friends the calumet of peace*. B, Knight [ « ] • Knight of the pohr ftar, or bear, don't ftart, And, like fonie long-ear'd creatures, bray " what art ?'*-— Sir William, Pnut your ell-wide mouth of terror— I come not here, believe me, to complain Of fuch as dar'd employ thy building brain, And criticife an ceconomic error *". I come not here to call thee knave or fool, And bid thee feck again Palladio's fchool ; Or cony heav'n, who form'd tliy head fo thick. To give ftability to ftone and brick ; No — 'twould be cruel now to make a rout — - The very flones already hav^c cry'd out. I come not here, indeed, new cracks to fpy, And call thee for the workmanfliip hard names ; To point which wing fhall next forfake the fky, And tumble in the Strand, or in the Thames. * A large portion of the Royal Academy, raifed at an extraordinary expencc, teli to the ground lately; but as the Knight is a favourite at Court, no harm is done. The Nation is able to rear it again, which will be a benefit ticket in Sir William's way. Nor f 3 ] Nor come I liere to cover thee with fliamc, For putting clever Academic men *, Like calves or pig?, into a pen, To fee the King of England and his dame, 'Midil carts and coaches, golden horfc and foot ; 'Midft peopled windows, chimnies and old walls ; 'Midft marrowbones and cleavers, fife and flute, Faffing in pious pilgrimage to Paul's. Where, as the fhow of gingerbread went by, The rain, as if in mockery from the {ky. Dribbled on ev'ry academic nob, And wafli'd each pigtail fmart, and povvder'd bob. Wafh'd many a vifage, black and brown, and fair. Giving to each fo piiElurefque an air ; * Sir William aiflually gave orders for the iion-admillion of" the Royal Academicians into the Academy, to fee the Royal procefTion to St. Paul's, '^s he had feme women and children of his acquain'tance who willied to ice the Ihow. Half a dozen boards were confequently ordered to be put together on the outfide of the building for their reception. Refembling [ 4 ] Refcmbling that of drooping, rain-foak'd fowls, Or, what's a better picture, parboil'd owls ; Whilft thou, great Jove upon Olympus, aping, IDidfl: fit raajeftic, from a window gaping. O, Weft, that fix'd and jealous eye forbear, "Which fcowhng marks the bard with doubt and fear, Thy forms are facred from my wrath divine ; 'Twere cruel to attack fuch crippled creatures, So very, very feeble in their natures, Already gafping in a deep decline ! I feek them not with fcalping thoughts, indeed, Too great my foul to bid the figures bleed : No — peace and happinefs attend 'em ; Where'er they go, poor imps, God mend 'em. I come not to impart to thee the crime Of over deahng in the true fublime; 3 I fcorn [ J 3 I Tcorn with malice thus thy fame to wound ; Nor cruel to declare, and Imrt thy trade, That too divine effec^ls of licrht and fhade Were -ever 'midft thv labours to be found. Nor fwear to blafl: an atom of thy mciit, That elegance, expreffion, fpirit, . Too ftrongly from the canvafs blaze ; And damn thee thus with Raphael's praife : Besides, againft the ftream I fcorn to rufh ; The world ne'er faid, nor thought it of tliy brufli. Were I to write thy epitaph, I'd fay, " Here lies below a painter's clay, " Who work'd away mofl: furioufly for Kings, *' And prov'd that lire of inclination, - *' For plealing the great Ruler of a Nation, " And fire of genius, are two diff'rent things." " Nor come I here t' inform fome men fo wife, Who fhine not yet upon the R. A. lift, That limbs in fpafms and crack'd, and gogling eyes. With grandeur cannot well exift. C Nay, [ 6 ] Nay, let it be recorded in my rhyme, Convuliions cannot give the true fublime. St. Vitus might be virtuous to romance Peace to the maftes of that capering Saint ; Yet let me tell the Tons of paint. Sublimity adorneth not his dance. Wide faucer eyes and dire diftortion. Will only make a good abortion. No, landfcape painters, let your gold ftreams fleep— Sleep, golden Ikies and bulls, and golden cows, And golden groves and vales, and golden Iheep, And golden goats, the golden grafs that brouze, Which with fuch golden luftre flame. As beat the very golden frame. Peace to the fcenes of Birmingham's bright fchool ! Peace to the brighter fcenes of Pontypool ! Aw'd I approach, ye fov'reigns of the brufh, With Modefty's companion fweet, a blufli, And [ 7 ] And hefitation nat'ral to her tongue ; ' And eye fo diffident, with beam fo mild, Like Eve's when Adam on her beauties fniird, And led her blufhing, nothing loath, along. To give the lady a green gown fo fweet, On beds of rofes, Love's delicious feat. Yes, fober, trembling, Quaker-like, I come To this great dome To offer fubjeds to the fons of paint : Accept the pleafant tales and hints I bring, ■ Of Knight and Lord, and Commoner and King,.- Sweeter than hift'ry of embowell'd faint ; Or martyr beat like Shrovetide cocks with bats^. And fir'd like turpentin'd poor roafting rats, - Inimical as dogs to pigs, /. ' .. Or wind and rain to powder'd wigs, Or mud from kennels to a milk-white (locking ; , Hoftile to Peter's phiz as if a peft, Why fprings the man of hift'ry, Mafter Weft, And cries, " Off, off; your, tales and hints are fhocking; . " Inven- [ 8 1 *' Inventions— fiibricatlons— lies — damn'd lies ; ** Kings and the world befidcs, thy fpitc, defpife. " Sir, you're a liar, ev'ry body knows it ; *' Sir, every ftupid ftanza fhows it : " Sir, you know nothing of a King and Queen ; " In fpheres too high their orbs fuperior roll *' By thy poor little grov'ling, mole-ey'd foul, " Thou outcaft of ParnalTus, to be feen, *' Sir, they do honour to their god- like ftation, *' The two firfl luminaries of the nation, *' So meek, good, gen'rous, virtuous, humble, wife; *' Whilft thou a favage, a great fool fo fat, ** Curs'd with a confcience blacker than my hat, " Art rival to that fiend the Prince of Lies. ** Go, pour thy venom on my Lear* ** A whifper, Hopkins, Sternhold, in thy ear : * A pretty Iron-ftaring Sketch now in the Exhibition. " King [ 9 ] " King Lear, to mortify thee, goes " Where Majefry delights with Weft to prate, *' Much more than Minifters of State, " Where thou flialt never fhow thy nofe ! " Where Pages fancy it a heinous crime, *' Thou foul-mouth'd fellow, to repeat thy rhyme; " Where ev'ry Cook, it is my firm belief, *' Would nobly make it a religious point, *' Rather than put thy trafh upon a joint, " To let the fire confuming burn the beef. " There's not a fhopkeeper in Windfor town " That would not hang thee, fiioot thee, ftab thee, drown, " That doth not damn thy ftuff, thy odes and tales ; " That doth not think thy Odes would give difeafe " To ev'ry thing they wrapp'd — to bread, to cheefe, " Nay, give contagion to a bag of nails. " The very Windfor dogs and cats, " The very Windfor owls and bats, D " Would [ 10 ] " Would howl and fquawl, and hoot and fhriek to meet " Like thee a raggamuffin in the ftreet. " The fervant maids of Windfor from each fhop, *' Some pointing brooms, and fome a fcornlul mop, " Their loyal fentiments would difembogue, " And taunting cry, * There goes a lying rogue.' " Behold rank impudence thy rhymes infpire ; ** Confummate infolence thy verfe provoke! " Fool ! to believe thy mufe a mufe of fire, A chimney- fweeper's drab, a mufe of fmoke. ({ *' The very bellman's rhymes pofTefs more merit; " Nay, Nichols' magazine exceeds in fpirit : ** A printer's devil with conceit, fo drunk, • * Who publiflies for gentleman and trunk ; ** Who fets up author on old Bowyer's fcraps ; ** Bowyer, whofe pen recorded all the raps ** That hungry authors gave to Bowyer's door, ** To fwell the curious literary ftore : 6 " Who [ " 1 *' who on a purblind antiquarian's back, " A founder'd, broken-winded hack, *' Rides out to find old farthings, nails, and bones — <' On darkeft coins the brightefl legend reads, " On tracelefs copper fees imperial heads, " And makes infcriptions older than the ftones. " Too bids, to give his cuftomers furprife, A Druid altar from a pigftye rife. " Yes, Nichols aping wifdom through his glaffes " Thee, thee Apollo's fcavenger, furpafles. " Soon (hall we fee the Fleet thy carcafe wring, " Mean thro' the prifon grate for farthings angling, " Sufpending feet of flockings by a firing. Or glove or nightcap for our bounty dangling ; 11 ** Whilfl iifuing from thy mouth begrim'd with beard, " Thy pale nofe poking thro' thy prifon hole, " The hollow voice of mis'ry will be heard, " ' Kind ge'mman, pity a poor hungry foul: (( ( Have (C c [ '^ 1 Have pity on a pris'ner's cafe fo fhocking '' ' Good Lady, put a farthing in the flocking !' *' What impudence thus bold a face to pufh ! " Arm'd with a winking light of paltry rulli, ** As if with Truth's bright torch, into our room ; ** To dart on ignorance the fmcied rays '' To bid of barbarifm the empire blaze, *' And kind illumine error's midnight ^loom. ** Get out, and pertly don't come troubling me ; " A dog is better company than thee." I thank ye— much oblig'd t'ye, Mafler Weft, For thoughts fo kind, and prettily expreft ; Yet won't I be refus'd, I won't indeed ; You muft, you fliall have tale, and ode, and hint ; This memory of mine contains a mint ; And thus, in bold defiance, I proceed. Yet mind me, as to our bright King and Queen, Their names are facred from the poet's fpleen = Peace [ ^3 ] Peace to their reign ; they feel no more my jokes, Wliethcr to Hanover they wifely roam, Or lull as wifely count their cafh at home, My fatire fhall not hurt the gentlefolks. Pleas'd in a hut to broil my mutton bone,. I figh not for the ven'fon of a throne : Nay, flavery doth not with my pride agree ; A toadeater's an imp I don't admire ; Nor royal fmall-talk doth my foul defire I've Jeefrmy Sovereigns — that's enough for me,- A thoufand themes for canvafs I could name. To give the artift beef and fame : Lo ! Hodfell in his country feat fo fine, Where, 'midfl his tulips, grin flone apes with parrots, , Where Neptune foams along a bed of carrots, Inftead of cleaving through his native brine. . E.- Where-: C K ] 'Where PlicL-bus ftrikes to cabbages his firings, Where Love o'er garlick waves his purple wings, Where Mars to vanquiili beets heroic leans ; And, arni'd with lightnings, with terrific eyes, The great and mighty Ruler of the fkies, Sublimely thunders through a bed of beans ; Clofe by whofe fide the haymakers are mating, And Dutchmen to their knees in onions fkaiting. A mighty warrior in the Houfe of Lords, Swallowing, alas ! a bitter, bitter pill ; JEating, poor man, his own fad words, Exceedingly againft his noble will ; Whilft Rawdon by his fide, with martial face, Commandeth him to fwallow with a grace ; Would make an interefting fcene, indeed, And fiiow the courage of King Charles's breed 1 3 How r ^5 1 How like a Dodor, forcing down the throat Of fomc poor puling child a dofe of falts, At which its little foul revolts, With wrigling limbs, wry mouths, and piteous note ; Yet forc'd to take the formidable "purge, Or tafte a bitt'rer dofe, tlie threat'ned fcourge ! Or Richmond *, watchful of the State's falvation, Sprinkling his ravelins o'er the nation ; Now buying leathern boxes up by tuns, Imorovino; thus the nature of g-reat 2:uns : Guns bleft with double natures, mild and rough. To give a broadlide, or a pinch of fnuft. Or Richmond f at th' enorm.ous reck'ning ftruck, At Portfmouth batlino; hard about a duck. A cer- * The Duke abfolutely ordered catinoa to be made of leather, from a fuutf-box-maker, which, at Woolwich, on Saturday the fecond day of IMay, 1789, werelcrioufly tried, and, like many a Nobleman, found too fofL t At Portfmouth his Grace, not long fmce, bcfj^oke a dinner for a few friends ; and becaufe no imprcliion had been made on a roalled duck, Charles Lenox, Duke of Richmond, Earl of Marcli, Marter GencraJ .[ ^6 ] A certain high and mighty Dutchefs, Hugging her hiifband in her cat-Ukc clutches, Biting and tearing him v/ith brandy zeal -, Whofe flax in heaps is feen to fly around, Whilfl: he, pale wight, emits a plaintive foundj, Like animals that furnifli man with veal ; Would make another pleafing fcene, Showing the mettle of an arrant Qiiean ; Longing to fliine a firft-rate ftar at Coi-rt, For fatire's pen, a fubjeft of rare fport ; Longing to purify a lucklefs blood, Deep-ftain'd, and fmelling of its native mud. General of the Ordnance, Lord Lieutenant and Cuftos Rotulorum of the county of Suflex, Duke of Lenox in Scotland, and Aubigny in France, Knight of the mofl: noble order of the Garter, &c., thought it a grievous impofition, and confequently ordered the landlord of the inn to dedudt the eighteen pence, the price of the duck, from the bill, which was done accordingly. The [ ^7 ] The valiant Glofter at the army's head, Drawn as the glorious Macedonian youth ; In battle galloping o'er hills of dead, Would glow with fuch an air of truth ! — Not on a jackafs mounted, but a fteed Of old Bucephalus's breed. >0<)0<>0<>C>oOoO( Salifb'ry examining the iron hands Of Fame's and fweet St. Giles's blackguard bands, That clap our Kings to Parliament and play Salifb'ry, too, gauging all their gaping throats, Excifeman-like, to find the beft for notes, That money may'nt be thrown away : Refolv'd from thofe fame legions of vulgarity. To get full pennyworths of popularity; Refolv'd his mafter fliall be fairly treated. And not, as ufual, by his fervants cheated. Suppofe [ i8 ] Snppofe, to giv^e this Iiiimoiir-loving ifle A pretty opportunity to fmile, You paint the Solomon of yon fam'd place *, Where fair Philofophy, the heav'nly dame, By barb'rous ufage cover'd deep with fliame, No longer fhows her exil'd face ; Where cent, per cent, in value rife, Toads, tadpoles, grafshoppers, and flies. Suppofe you paint Sir Jofeph all fo bleft. With many a parafitical dear guefl, Swol'n by their flatt'ries like a bladder big. Throwing away of learning fuch a wafte, And proving his fuperior claflic tafte, By fwallowing the fufne?i of a pig. Pitt trying to unclench Britannia's fift, Imploring money for a King ; Telling moft mournful tales of civil lift, The Lady's tender heart to wring, * The Royal Society. Tales [ 19 ] Tales of expence in Dodors' bills, High price of blifters, bolulTes and pills, Long journey to St. Paul's t' oblige the nation, And give God thanks for reftoration : Britannia with arch look the while, Partaking ftrongly of a fmile. Pointing to that huge dome *, the nation's wealth ; Where people fometimes place their cafli by ftealth, And all fo modeft with their fecret ftore. Inform the world they're poor, ah, very poor. tOc-OoOoOoCxO* Brudenell and Symonds f with each other vying. Sweet youths ! for little Norman's | favours iighing, A pidurefque effedl would form ; That huo-rring; mother for the daughter's charms, DO O *~^ This with the yielding damfel in his arms, Taking the citadel by ftorm ; * The Bank of England. t Lord B. and Sir Richard S.s's contcfl for the charming prize is well known to the Opera Houfe. t A pretty bhck-eyed Figurante at the Opera. That [ 20 ] ^ That running with the girl in triumph ofF, This with the dog, the mother, and the muff. tO<>Cx 0>0<0<>0< A great law Chief, whom God nor Demon fcares, Compell'd to kneel and pray*, who fwore his pray'rs, The dev'l behind him pleas'd and grinning, Patting the angry lawyer on the flioulder. Declaring nought was ever bolder, Admiring fuch a novel mode of finning : Like this, a fubjed; would be reckon' d rare. Which proves what blood-game inlidels can dare ; Which to my memory brings a fa61:. Which nothing but an Englifli tar would ad; In fliips of war, on Sundays pray'rs are giv'n ; For thouj^h fo wicked, failors think of heav'n. * On the thankrgiving day at St. Paul's. Particu- [ 2^ ] Particularly in a florm ; Where, if they find no brandy to get drunk, Their fouls are in a mifcrable funk, Then vow they to th' Almighty to reform. If in his goodnefs only once, once more, He'll fuffer them to clap a foot on fhore. In calms, indeed, or gentle airs, They ne'er on week-days pefter Heav'n with pray'rs ; For 'tis amongft the Jacks a common faying, *f Where there's no danger, there's no need of praying." One Sunday morning all were met To hear the parfon preach and pray, All but a boy, who, willing to forget That pray'rs were handing out, had ftol'n away ; And, thinking praying but a ufelefs tafk. Had crawl'd to take a nap, into a cafk. G The [ 22 ] The boy was foon found miffing, and full foon The boatfvvain's cat fagacious fmelt him out,; Gave him a clawing to fome tune This cat's a coufin Germain to the Knout *, " Come out, you fculking dog," the boatfwain cry'd, " And fave your daran'd young iinful foul:" He then the moral-mending cat apply'd, And turn'd him like a badger from his hole. Sulky the boy march'd on, and did not mind him, Altho' the boatfwain flogging kept behind him : " Flog," cried the boy, " flog — curfe me, flog away- ril go — but mind — God d — pm me if I'll pi-ay.''' (C * A common puni(hment in Ruffia. Tht [ ^3 ] The KING of SPAIN and the HORSE. JlN fev'nteen hundred fev'nty eight, The rich, the proud, the potent King of Spain, Whofe anceftors fent forth their troops to fmite The peaceful natives of the weftern main, ^ With faggots and the blood-delighting fword, To play the devil, to oblige the Lord ! For hunting, roafting heretics, and boiling. Baking and barbecuing, frying, broiling. Was thought Heav'n's caufe amazingly to further ; For which moft pious reafon, hard to work • . They went, with gun and dagger, knife and fork. To charm the God of mercy with their murther ! - I fay, this King in fev'nty-eight furvey'd, In tapeftry fo rich, pourtray'd A horfe [ ^-4 ] A horfe with ftlrnips, crupper, bridle, faddle : 'Within the ftirrup, lo, the Monarch try'd To fix his foot the palfry to beftride ; la vain ! — he could not o'er the palfry ftraddle ! Stiff as a Turk the beaft of yarn remain'd, And ev'ry effort of the King difdain'd, Who 'midft his labours to the ground was tumbled. And greatly mortified, as well as humbled. Prodigious was the ftruggle of the day. The horfe attempted not to run away ; At which the poor-chaf'd Monarch now 'gan grin, And fwore by ev'ry faint and holy martyr. He would not yield the traitor quarter.. Until he got poffeffion of his Ikin. Not fiercer fam'd La Mancha's knight, Hight Quixote, at a puppet fhow, Did wdth more valour floutly fight, And terrify each little fqueaking foe ; When [ :^5 ] - ■ - When bold he pierc'd the lines, immortal fray ! And broke their pafteboard bones, and ftabb'd their hearts of hay. Not with more energy and fury The beauteous ftreet-walker of Drury Attacks a fifter of the fmuggling trade, Whofe winks, and nods, and fweet refiftlefs fmile, Ah, me ! her paramour beguile. And to her bed of healthy ftraw perfuade ; Where mice with mulic charm, and vermin crawl, And fnails with filv^er traces deck the wall. And now a cane, and now a whip he us'd, And now he kick'd, and fore the palfry bruis'd ; Yet, lo, the horfe feem'd patient at each kick, And bore with Chriflian fpirit whip and flick ; And what exceffively provok'd this Prince, The horfe fo ftubborn fcorn'd ev'n once to wince. Now rufli'd the Monarch for a bow and arrow. To fhoot the rebel like a fparrow ; H And [ ^6 ] And lo, with fliafts well fteel'd, with all his force, Tuft like a pinciiOiioii, he ftuck the horfe ! Now with the fury of the chaf'd wild boor, V/ith nails and teeth the wounded horfe he tore ; Now to the floor he brought tlie ftubborn beaft ; Now o'er the vanquilh'd horfe tha.t dar'd rebel, Moft Indian-like the Monarch gave a yell, Pleas'd on the quadruped his eyes to feaft ; Bleft as Achilles when with fatal wound He brought the mighty Hedlor to the ground. Yet more to gratify his godlike ire, He vengeful flung the palfry in the fire ! Shov/ing his pages round, poor trembling things, How dang'rous to refifc the will of Kings. Lord [ 27 ] Lord B. and the EUNUCH. Jr\. LORD, mofl muiically mad, Yet with a tafte fiiperlatively bad, Afk'd a fqueal eunuch to his houfe one day A poor old femivir^ whofe throat Had loft its love-refounding note, Which art had giv'n, and time had ftol'n away. " Signor Squalini," with a folemn air. The Lord began, grave rifing from his chair. Taking Squalini kindly by the hand ; " Signor Squalini, much I fear " I've got a moft unlucky ear, *' And that 'tis known to all the muiic band. " Fond of abufe, each fidling coxcomb carps, " And, true it is, I don't know flats from fharps : " Indeed, (( [ ^8 ] Indeed, Signor Squalini, 'tis no hum ; " So ill dotli miific with my organs fuit, " I fcarcely know a fiddle from a flute, " The hautbois from the double drum. " Now tho' with Lords, a number of this nation, *' I go to op'ras, more through fafhion " Than for the love of mufic, I could wifh " The world might think I had fome little tafte, ** That thofe two ears were tolerably chafte, " But, Sir, I am as ftupid as a fifh. " Get me the credit of a Cognofceiite^ " Gold fhan't be wanting to content ye."- " Brav'iJJhno 1 my Lor," replied Squalini, With acquiefccnt bow, and fmile^f fuavity ; " De nobleman mufs never look de ninny." " True," cry'd the noble Lord, with German gravity. " My Lor, ven men vant money in der purfe, " Dey do no vant de vorld to tink dem poor, " Becaufe, my Lor, dat be von fhabby curfe; " Dis all fame tins: wid ignoraunce, my Lor. " Right," [ ^9 ] '* Right," cry'd his Lorddilp in a grumbling tone, Much like a m:iiliff jealous of his bone. " But firft I want fome technicals, Sicnor" Bowing, the Eunuch anfwered, — " Ifs, my Lor ;. '* I tea£h your Lorfhip queckly, queekly, all^ *' Dere vat be call de fojlenuto note, " Dat be ven finger oppen vide de troat, " And dea for long time make de fquawl " Mufh long, long note, dat do continue while " A man, my Lor, can valk a mile. " My Lor, der likewife be de cro7natique^ " As if de {inger vas in greef, or fick, '' And had de colick — dat be ver, vcr fine : " De high, oh, dat mufician call foprano\ " De low voice, bajjo ; de foff note, ptano " BravourUy queek, bold — here Marchefi fhine-. *' Dis Mara, too, and Billington, do know- " Allegro^ quick; Adagio, be de flow; I ^' Pomp ofay [ 3^ 3 *' Po///j>ofo, dat be manner make cieroar: '" Maejlcfo^ dat be grand and nobel ting, ■^' Mudi like de voice of Emperor, or de King ; " Or you, my Lor, '' When in de hoiife you make de grand oration, " For fave, my Lor, de noble Englis nation." Thus having giv'n his lefTon, and a bow. With high complacency his Lordfliip fmilM : Unravell'd was his Lordfliip's pucker'd brow, His fcouling eye, like Luna's beams, fo mild: Such is th' cfFedl, when flatt'ries fweet cajole That praife-admiring wight yclep'd the foul ; And from the days of Adam 'tis the cafe. That great's the fympathy 'twixt foul and face. " Signor Squalini," cry'd the Lord, " The op'ra is begun, upon my word- •" Allons^ Signor, and hear me — mind, " As foon as ever you fhall find " A finger's C 3' 1 " A finger's voice above or under pitch, *' Jiifl: touch my toe, or give my arm a twitch.*' *< Ifs, ifs, my Lor, (the eunuch ftraight rcplyM) '* I (licet clofe by your Lorihip fide ; " And den, accordin to your Lorfhip wifli, *' I give your Lorfhip elbow littel twifh." Now to the opera, mufic's founds to hear, The old Caf^rato and the noble Peer Proceeded Near the orcheflra they fat, Before the portals of the fmgers' throats 1 The critic couple moufing for bad notes With all the keenefs of a hungry cat. Now came an out-of-tunifh note The Eunuch twitch'd his Lordfhip's coat : Full-mouth'd at once his Lordfhip roar'd out *' pfha !" The orcheftra, amaz'd, turn round To find from whence arofe the critic found, When, lo ! they heard the Lord, and faw I Th? [ 32 ] The Eunuch kept moft flily twitching, His frowning Lordfhip all the while, (Not in the cream of courtly ftilc) Be-dogging this poor finger, that be-bitching, Uniting too, a hoft ot damning pfhas. And reap'd a plenteous harveft of applaufe : — Grew from that hour a Lord of tuneful fkill. And tho' the Eunuch's dead, remains fo ftill. To [ 33 3 To the ACADEMICIANS. Suppose you paint the Dev'l with fmiling mien, Whifp'ring deceit to any King or Queen, 'Tis what the prince of foot hath often done For lo, with many a King and many a Queen, In clofe confab the gentleman is feen With fuch hath Satan oft a world of fun - More fun, or diadems are much bely'd, Than all the little under world belide 1 The DevTs a fellow of much fterling humourj^ If we may credit public rumour ; And all fo civil in each adl and look, That whenfoever we incline On fome rare difh of fi.n to dine. We can't employ a nicer cook. - K Whoy [ 34 3 Who, too, (o generous difdains To take a Sixpence for his pains Nay, at our money would be vext ; Happy to pleafe us gratis with his art, . Provided, when from /Z»/j- world we depart, We join his fire-fide in the next. Like Gloucefter, who for pay can leave his party, Some years ago 1 join'd his corps fo hearty, Thinking the Prince of Erebus ill treated : Fir'd by the fubjed: in my rhyming mode, I complimented Satan with an ode. Which, for the brufhmen's fake, fhall be repeated. ODE I 35 ] ODE TO THE DEVIL. Ingratum Odi. IT R I N C E of the dark abodes ! I ween Your Highnefs ne'er till now hath feen Yourfelf in metre fhine ; Ne'er heard a fong with praife fincere, Sweet warbled on your fmutty ear, Before this Ode of mine. Perhaps the reafon is too plain, Thou trieft to ftarve the tuneful train. Of potent verfe afraid ; And yet I vow, in all my time, I've not beheld a iingle rhyme That ever fpoil'd thy trade. I've [ 36 ] I've often read thofe pious whims John V/elley's fweet damnation hymns, That chant of heav'nly riches. What have they done ? — thofe heav'nly ftrains, Devoutly fqueez'd from canting brains, But fiU'd John's earthly breeches? There's not a fhoeblack in the land, So humbly at the world's command,- As thy old cloven foot ; Like lightning dofi: thou fly, when call'd. And yet no pickpocket's fo maul'd As thou, O Prince of Soot ! What thoufands hourly bent on fin, With fupplication call thee in. To aid them to purfue it ; Yet, when detedled, with a lie Ripe at their fingers' ends, they cry, ** The Devil jnade me do it." Behold [ Z1 ] Behold the fortunes that are made, By men through roguifh tricks in trade ! Yet all to thee are owing And tho' we meet it ev'ry day, The fneaking rafcals dare not fay. This is the DevH\ doing. As to thy company, I'm fure. No man can fhun thee on that fcore ; The very beft is thine : With Kings, Queens, Minifters of State, Lords, Ladies, I have feen thee great. And many a grave Divine. I'm forely griev'd at times to find, The very inftant thou art kind. Some people fo uncivil. When aught offends, with face awry, With bafe ingratitude to cry, > " I wifli it to the devil." Hath [ 38 1 Hath fome poor blockhead got a wife, To be the torment of his Hfe, By one eternal yell ; The fellow cries out coarfely, " Zounds, ** I'd give this moment twenty pounds " To fee the jade in hell." ShouM Heav'n their pray'rs fo ardent grant. Thou never company wouldft want To make thee downright mad ; Fcrr mind me, in their wifliing mood, They never offer thee what's good, But ev'ry thing that's bad. My honeft anger boils to view A fnuffling, long-fac'd, canting crew. So much thy humble debtors, Rufliing, on Sundays, one and all, With defp'rate pray'rs thy head to maul, And thus abufe their betters. To C 29 ] To {eize one day in ev'ry week, On thee their black abufe to wreak, By whom their fouls are fed Each minute of the other fix, With ev'ry joy that heart can fix. Is impudence indeed ! Blufhing I own thy plcafing art Hath oft feduc'd my vagrant heart, And led my fteps to joy The charms of beauty have been mine ; And let me call the merit thine, Who brought!!: the lovely toy, . No, Satan if I afk thy aid, To give my arms the blooming maid, I will not, thro' the nation all. Proclaim thee (like a gracelefs imp) A vile old good-for-nothing pimp. But fay, <' 'tis thy vocation, Hal." Since [ 4^ 1 Since trutli niuft out- — I feldoin knew What 'twas high pleafure to purfue, Till thou hadft won my heart So ibcial were we both together, And beat the hoof in ev'ry weather, I never wifh'd to part. Yet when a child — sjood Lord ! I thought That thou a pair of horns hadft got, With eyes like faucers ftiring I And then a pair of ears fo ftout, -A monflrous tail and hairy fnout, With elaws beyond comparing. Taught to avoid the paths of evil, By day I us'd to dread the Devil, , And trembling when 'twas night, Methought I faw thy horns and ears. Then fung or whiftlcd to my fears, And ran to chace my fright. And [ 41 3 And ev'ry night I went to bed, I Tvveated with a conftant dread, And crept beneath the rug; There, panting, thought that in my deep Thou flily in the dark wouldft creep. And eat me, tho* (o fnug. A haberdaflier's fhop is thine, With iins of all forts, coarfe and fine. To fuit both man and maid : Thy wares they buy, with open eyes ; How cruel then, with conftant cries. To vilify thy trade ! To fpeak. the truth, indeed, I'm loath- Life's deem'd a mawkifh difh of broth Without thy aid, old Sweeper : So mawkifh, few will put it down, E'en from the cottage to the crown, Without thy fait and pepper. M O Satan, I 4^ 3 O Satan, whatfoever geer Thy Proteus form fhall chufe to wear^ Black, red, or blue, or yellow -, Whatever hypocrites may fay, They think thee (truft my honeft lay) A mofl bewitching fellow. 'Tis order'd (to deaf ears alas !) To praife the bridge o'er which we pafs ; Yet often I difcover A numerous band who daily make An eafy bridge of thy poor back, And damn it when they're over. Why art thou then with cap in hand, Obfequious to a gracelefs band, Whofe fouls are fcarce worth taking ? O Prince, purfue but my advice, I'll teach your Highnefs in a trice To fet them all a quaking. Plays, [ 43 ] Plays, op'ras, mafquerades, deftroy ; Lock up each charming jllle de joie ; Give race horfes the glander The dice box break, and burn each card- LH virtue be its own reward, And gag the mouth of flander ; In one week's time, I'll lay my hfe, There's not a man, nor maid, nor wife, That will not glad agree, If thou wilt charm 'em as before. To fhow their nofe at church no more, But quit their God for thee, 'Tis now full time my ode {hould end ; And now I tell thee like a friend, Howe'er the world may fcout thee ; Thy ways are all fo wondrous winning, And folks fo very fond of finning, They cannot do without thee. Tiie [ 44 ] The TENDER HUSBAND. X-i Oj to the cruel hand of Fate, My poor dear Grizzle, meek-foul'd mate, Reiigns her tuneful breath Tho' dropp'd her jaw, her lip tho' pale. And blue each harmlefs finger nail, She's beautiful in death. As o'er her lovely limbs I weep, I fcarce can think her but afleep How wonderfully tame I And yet her voice is really gone, And dim thofe eyes that lately fhone With all the lightning's flame. Death was, indeed, a daring wight, To take it in his head to fmite To [ 45 ] To lift his dart to hit her ; For as fhe was fo great a woman. And car'd a fingle fig for no man, I thou2;ht he fear'd to meet her. Still is that voice of late fo ftrong, That many a fweet Capriccio fung, And beat in founds the fpheres ? No longer muft thofe fingers play Britons ftrike home, that many a day Have footh'd my ravifh'd ears ? Ah me ! indeed I'm much inclin'd To think I now might fpeak my mind, Nor hurt her dear repofe ; Nor think I now with rage fhe'd roar, Were I to put my fingers o'er. And touch her precious nofc. Here let me philofophic paufe How wonderful are Nature's laws, •. N When ( 46 ] When Lady's breath retires. Its fate the flaming paflions fhare> Supported by a little air, Like culinary fires ! Whene'er I hear the bagpipe's note. Shall Fancy fix on Grizzle's throat. And loud inftrudive lungs : O Death, in her, tho' only one, Are loft a thoufand charms unknown. At leaft a thoufand tongues. Soon as I heard her laft fweet figh, And faw her gently-clofing eye. How great was my furprife \ Yet have I not, with impious breath, Accus'd the hard decrees of death. Nor blam'd the righteous fkies* I Why do I groan in deep defpair. Since fiie'U be foon an angel fair ? Ah! [ 47 ] Ah ! why my bofom fmite ? Could grief my Grizzle's life reftore !- But let me give fuch ravings o'er Whatever is, is right. Oh, Do(flor ! you are come too late ; No more of phyfic's virtues prate. That could not fave my lamb : Not one more bolus fhall be giv'n You fhall not ope her mouth, by heav'n. And Grizzle's gullet cram. Enough of boluffes, poor heart. And pills, (he. took to load a cart, Before fhe clos'd her eyes ; But now my word is here a law. Zounds ! with a bolus in her jaw. She fhall not feek the fkies. Good Sir, good Dodlor, go away ; To hear my fighs you mufl not flay, For [ 43 ] For this my poor loft treafure : I thank you for your pains and fkill ; When next you come, pray bring your bill ; I'll pay it, Sir, with pleafure. Ye friends who come to mourn her doom, For God's fake gently tread the room, Nor call her from the bleft In fofteft filence drop the tear, In whifpers breathe the fervent pray'r, To bid her fpirit reft. Reprefs the fad, the wounding fcream ; I cannot bear a grief extreme Enough one little ftgh Befides, the loud alarm of grief. In many a mind may ftart belief, Our noife is all a lie. Good nurfes, fhroud my lamb with care ; Her limbs, with gentleft fingers, fpare ; Her [ 49 ] Her mouth, ah ! flovvly clofe ; Her mouth a magic tongue that held — Whofe fofteft tone, at times, compell'd, To peace, my loudefl woes. And, carpenter, for my fad fake, Of ftouteft oak her coiEn make I'd not be ftingy, fure Procure of fteel the ftrongeft fcrews ; For who wou'd paltry pence refufe To lodge his wife fecure ? Ye people who the corpfe convey. With caution tread the doleful way. Nor fhake her precious head ; Since Fame reports a coffin toft, With carelefs fwing again ft a poft, Did once difturb the dead. O Farewel, [ 50 ] Farewe], my love, for ever loft ! Ne'er troubled be thy gentle ghoft, That I again will woo By all our paft delights, my dear. No more the marriage chain I'll vi^ear^ P — X take me if I do ! The t 5^ ] The SOLDIER and the VIRGIN MARY. A TALE. J\ Soldier at Loretto's wond'rous chapel, To parry from his foul the wrath divine, That follow'd mother Eve's unlucky apple, Did viiit oft the Virgin Mary's fhrine ; Who ev'ry day is gorgeoufly deck'd out, In lilks or velvets, jewels, great and fmall, Juft like a fine young lady for a rout, A concert, opera, wedding, or a ball. At firft the Soldier at a diftance kept, Begging her vote and intereft in heav'n- With feeming bitternefs the finner wept, Wrung his two hands, and hop'd to be forgiv'n : Dinn'd her two ears with Ave-Mary flummery ; Declar'd what miracles the dame could do, Ev'n with her garter, flocking, or her fhoe, And fuch like wonder-working mummery. What [ 52 1 what anfwer Mary gave the wheedling finner, Who nearly, and more nearly mov'd to win her, The mouth of hift'ry doth not mention, And therefore I can't tell but by invention. One day as he was making love and praying, And pious Aves, thick as herrings, faying, And fins fo manifold confefling ; He drew, as if to whifper, very near, And twitch'd a pretty diamond from her ear, Inftead of taking the good lady's blefling. Then off he fat with nimble fhanks, Nor once turn'd back to give her thanks : A hue and cry the thief purfu'd. Who, to his coft, foon underftood That he was not beyond the claw Of that fame long-arm'd giant chriften'd Law. With horror did his Judges quake As for the tender-confcicnc'd Jury, They doom'd him quickly to the flake, Such was their dev'lifh pious fury. 6 How- [ 53 ] However, after calling him hard names, They afk'd if ought he had in vindication, To fave his wretched body from the flames, And linful foul from terrible damnation. The Soldier anfwer'd them with much fa^ig froiJy Which fhow'd, of fin, a confcience void, That if they meant to kill him, they might kill : As for the diamond which they found about him. He hop'd they would by no means doubt him, That Madam gave it him from pure good will. The anfwer turn'd both Judge and Jury pale : The punifliment was for a time deferr'd. Until his Holinefs fhould hear the tale, And his iftfallibility be heard. The Pope, to all his Counfellors, made known This ftrange affair — to Cardinals and Friars, Good pious gentlemen, who ne'er were known To ad: like hypocrites, and thieves, and liars. P The [ 54 ] The queftion now was banded to and fro, If Mary had the pow'r to give^ or no. That Mary could not give it, was to fay, The wonder-working Lady wanted pow'r This was a ftumbling block that ftopp'd the way- This made Pope, Cardinals, and Friars, low'r. To fave the Virgin's credit, lo ! And keep fecure the di'monds that were left ; They faid, fhe mighty indeed, the gem beftow. And confeqiiently it might be no theft> But then they pafs'd immediately an adl^ That ev'ry one difcover'd in the fad, Of taking prefents from the Virgin's hand. Or from the Saints of any land, Should know no mercy, but be led to flaughter, Flay'd here, and fry'd eternally hereafter. 3 Ladress [ 55 ] Ladies, I deem the moral much too clear To need poetical afii fiance ; Which bids you not let men approach too near,. But keep the faucy fellows at a diflance ; Since men you find, fo bold, are apt to feize Jewels from ladies, ev'n upon their knees ! An [ 5'^ 1 All ODE to e)p;ht Cats, belono-'mo; to Ifrad Mendez, a Jew. Scene, fl?e Street in a Cou?2try T'oiriu The Ti ME, Midnight — the Poet at his Chamber TVimhw, O I N G E R S of Ifrael, Oh ye fingers fweet, Who, with your gentle mouths from ear to ear, Pour forth rich fymphonies from ftreet to fiireet, And to the ileeplefs wretch the night endear ; Lo ! in my fhirt, on you thefe eyes I fix, Admiring much the quaintnefs of your tricks ; Your frifkings, crawlings, fquawls, I much approre ; Your fpittings, pawings, high-rais'd rumps, Swell'd tails, and merry-andrew jumps, With the wild minftrelfy of rapt'rous love. How I 57 1 How fweetly roll your goofcb'rry eyes, As loud you tune your am'rous cries, And, loving, fcratch each other black and blue ! No boys in wantonnefs now bang your backs, No curs, nor fiercer maftiffs, tear your flax. But all the moon-light world Teems made for vou. Singers of Ifrael, you no parfons want To tie the matrimonial cord ; • " - . You call the matrimonial fervice, cant ' Like our firft parents, take each other's word : On no one ceremony pleas'd to fix— — To jump not even o'er two flicks. You want no furniture, alas 1 . Spit, fpoon, difli, frying-pan, nor ladle ^ No iron, pewter, copper, tin, or brafs ; No nurfes, wet or dry, nor cradle, . . . _ Which cuftom, for our Chriftian babes, enjoins, , . To rock the ftaring offspring of your loins. Q^ ' Noc [ 58 ] Nor of the lawyers have you need. Ye males, before you feek your bed, To fettle pin-money on Madam : No fears of cuckoldom, heav'n blefs ye, Are ever harbour 'd to diflrefs ye, Tormenting people fmce the days of Adam. No fchools you want for fine behaving, No powdering, painting, wafliing, fhaving. No nightcaps fnug no trouble in undrefling Before you feek your ftrawy nefl:, Pleas'd in each other's arms to reft. To feaft on Love, heav'ns greateft blefling. Good gods ! ye fweet love- chanting rams ! How nimble are you with your hams To mount a houfe, to fcale a chimney top ; And, peeping down that chimney's hole, Pour in a tuneful cry, th' impaftion'd foul, Inviting Mifs Grinaalkin to come up ; Who [ 59 ] Who, fvveet obliging female, far from coy, Anfwers your invitation note with joy, And fcorning 'midft the aOies more to mope ; Lo ! born on Love's all-daring wing, She mounteth with a pickle-herring fpring. Without th' afliftance of a rope. Dear mouiing tribe, my limbs are waxing cold — Singers of Ifrael fweet, adieu, adieu ! I do fuppofe you need not now be told How much I wifh that I was one of you. SONG C 60 ] SONG to DELIA. Forlorn I feek the filent fcene, To keep the image of my fair ; Pale o'er the fountain's brink I lean, And view the fpedlre of defpair. Why fhould my heart forget it's woe ? The virgin would have mourn'd for me- O nymph, th' eternal tear fhall flow ; Th' figh unccaflng breathe of thee. Forgetful of his parted maid, Too many an unfeeling fwain Forfakes of folitude the fhade, For Pleafure's gay and wanton train. Yet, yet of conftancy they boaft ! — • Their eafy hearts their tongues belie Who loves, reveres the fair one's ghoft, And feeks a pleafure in aligh. ODE [ 6i ] Sir J. BANKS and the THIEFTAKERS. 1^ I R Jofeph, fav'rite of great Queens and Kings, Whofe wifdom, weed and infe(fl hunter iings. ; And ladies fair applaud, with fmile fo dimpling ; Went forth one day, amidft the laughing fields, Where Nature fuch exhauftlefs treafure yields, A fimpling ! It happen'd on the felf-fame morn fo bright, • . The nimble pupils of Sir Sampfon Wright, A fimpling too for plants call'd Thieves, proceeded 5 Of which the nation's field fhould oft be weeded. Now did a thieftaker fo fiy. Peep o'er a hedge with cunning eye, And quick efpy'd the Knight with folemn air, Deep in a ditch where watercrefi^es grow ; On which he to his comrades cry'd, " See, ho ! " > Then jump'd (unfportfman like) upon his hare. R Hare- [ 6z } Hare-like Sir Jofeph did not fqueak, but bawl'd, With dread prodigioufly appall'd The thieftakers no ceremony us'd ; But taking poor Sir Jofeph by the neck, ■ They bade him fpeak i But firft with names their captive Knight abus'd, *' Sir, v/hat d'ye take me for?" the Knight exclaim' d " A thief," reply 'd the runners with a curfe : ** And now. Sir, let us fearch you, and be damn'd " — =- And then they fearch'd his pockets, fobs, and purfe : But 'ftead of piftol dire, and crape, A pocket handkerchief they caft their eye on, Containing frogs and toads of various fhape. Dock, daify, nettletop, and dandelion, To entertain, with great propriety. The members of his fage fociety : Yet would not alter they their ftrong belief. That this their pris'ner was no thief! 6 " Sirs, [ 63 ] " Sirs, Tm no highwayman," exchiim'd the Knight- " No — there," rejoin'd the runners, " you are right- " A footpad only — Yes, we know your trade " Yes, you're a pretty babe of grace : " We want no proofs. Old Codger, but your face; *' So come along with us. Old Blade." 'Twas ufelefs to refift, or to complain- In vain. Sir Jofeph pleaded — 'twas in vain That he was highly titled, that he fwore The inftant that poor Banks his titles counted, Which to an F. R. S. and Knight amounted, His guardians laugh'd, and clapp'd, and cry'd " encore^'* Sir Jofeph told them, that a neighb'ring Squire Should anfwer for it that he was no thief: On which they plumply damn'd him for a lyar, And faid fuch ftories fhould not fave his beef; / ' And if they undcrflood their trade, His mittimus would foon be made ; And forty pounds be theirs, a pretty fum, For fending fuch a rogue to kingdom come. Now [ 64 ] Now to the Squire mov'd pris'ner Knight and Co. The runners taking him in tow, Like privateers of Britain's warlike nation, Towing a French Eafli-Indiaman, their prize, So black, and of enormous Hze, Safe into port for condemnation. Whether they ty'd his hands behind his back. For fear the Knight might run away, And made, indelicate, his breeches flack, We've no authority to fay. And now the country people gathered round. And ftar'd upon the Knight in thought profound, Not on the fyftem of Linnseus thinking Fancying they faw a rogue in ev'ry feature ; Such is the populace's horrid nature Tow'rds people thro' misfortune finking. At length, amidft much mob and mire. Indeed amidft innumerable ranks, Fatigu'd, they reach'd the manfion of the Squire, To prove th' identity of Jofeph Banks. Now [ 65 ] Now to the Squire, familiar bow'd the Knight, Who knew Sir Jofcph at firft fight What's ftrongly mark'd, is quickly known agen— And with a frown that awe and dread commanded. The thieftakers feverely reprimanded For thus miftaking gentlemen. Then bade them aik a pardon on their knees,. Of him that was a Knight and F. R. S. Who, rather than the higher pow'rs difpleafe,, Imagin'd that they could not well do lefs Then on their knuckles rais'd they hands and eyes, , And crav'd Sir Joieph's pardon for belief. That when they jump'd upon him by furprife, , They took fo great a gemman for a thief. Hoping to mind th' advice of godly books, Fiz, not to judge of people by their looks* • SOLO^ [ <56 ] SOLOMON and the MOUSE-TRAP. J\ Man in rather an exalted ftation, Whofe eyes are always eyes of admiration, Without diftindion, fond of all things novel, Ev'n from the lofty fccptre to the fhovel Juft like ftray'd bullocks faunt'ring through the lanes, Made frequent curiofity campaigns ; Sometimes caught grafshoppers — now more profound, Would fometimes find a pin upon the ground ; Where if the head towards him happ'd to point, His mind was wonderfully ft ruck Indeed he felt a joy in ev'ry joint, Becaufe it always brings good luck. This gentleman, /jigl}i Solomon, one day, In queft of novelty purfu'd his way ; Like great Columbus, that lam'd navigator. Who found the world we've loft acrofs the water j 3 But [ 67 ] But rather on a fomewhat narrower fcale, Lo ! on dry land the gentleman fet fail That day it chanc'd to be his will, To make difcoveries at Salthill ; Where bounce he hopp'd into a widow's lioufe, Whofe hands were both employed fo clever, Doing their very bcft endeavour To catch that vile frce-booter, Monfieur JMoufe ; Whofe death fhe oft did moft devoutly pray for, Becaufe he eat the meat he could not pay for : Refembling Chriftians in that faving tricky Who, wanting to obtain good cheer, Invented an ingenious fcheme call'd //c^, That purchafes, like money, beef and beer : PolTefs'd of tick, for cadi man need not ransc, Nor toil in taking or in giving change. Fas:er did Solomon fo curious clap His rare round optics on the wondrous trap That [ 68 ] ^ That did the duty of a cat j And always fond of ufeful information, Thus wifely fpoke he with vociferation, " What's that? — What, what ? hs, has ; what's that?" To whom, reply'd the miftrefs of the houfe, A trap, an't pleafe you, Sir, to catch a moufe." Moufe ! — catch a moufe !" faid Solomon with glee — Let's fee — let's fee — 'tis comical — let's fee Moufe ! — moufe !" — then pleas'd his eyes began to roll- Where, where doth he go in ?" he marveling cry'd There," pointing to the hole, the dame reply'd. What here ?" cry'd Solomon ; '* this hole, this hole?" Then in he pufh'd his finger 'midft the wire, That with fuch pains that finger did infpire, He wifh'd it out again with all his foul : However, by a little fquawl and fhaking. He freed his finger from its piteous taking—— That is to fay, he got it from the hole. = * What [ 69 ] " What makes the moufe, pray, go into the trap ? " Something (he cry'd) that miiil: their palates pleafe." — *' Yes, (anfwer'd the fiiir woman) Sir, a fcrap "■ Of nifty bacon, or of toafted cheefe." «' Oh! oh! (faid Solomon) oh! oh! oh! oh! " Yes, yes, I fee the meaning of it now — — '' The moufe goes in, a rogue, to fteal the meat, " Thinking to give his gums a pretty treat." Then laugh'd he loudly, ftretch'd his mouth a mile, Which made the mufcles of the wadow fmile. " Let's fee, let's fee," cry'd Solomon — " let's fee — *' Let me, let me, let me, let me, let me, let me." Thcii took he up fome bacon, and did clap A Httle flice fo clever in the trap. Thus did he by his own advice, Induce himfelf to bait a trap for mice ! Now home he hied fo nimbly, whclm'd with glory, And told his family the wondrous ftory T About [ 70 ] About the widow's cheefe and bacon fcrap ! Nought fuffer'd he to occupy his head, Save moufe ideas, till he went to bed, Where bleft he dreamt all night about the trap. Here let me paufe, and Heav'n's great goodnefs chaunt How kind it is in gracious Fleav'n to grant To full-grown gentlefolks of lofty ftation, A pow'r of relifhing moft trifling things, Pleafures ordain'd for brats in leading firings, By way of happy harmlefs relaxation 1 Next day the man of wifdoni came, All glorious, to the houfe of this fair dame. To know if Mafter Moufe had fmelt to bacon ; When, lo ! to fill with joy his eager eyes, And load thofe flaring optics with furprife, A real moufe was abfolutely taken I Not more did Rodney's joy this man's furpafs, When in his cabin firft he faw De GrafTe J 6 Not [ 7' ] Not more the hair-brain'd Macedonian boy, Leap'd, like a Bedlamite, for joy, Than Solomon to fee the moufe in jail ! Not Alexander, foe of great Darius, (Men that with rich comparifon fupply us) When bleft he caught the Perfian by the tail. Around the room the moufe he bore, Infulting the poor pris'ner o'er and o*er ; Laughing and peeping through the wire, As if his eyes and mouth would never tire ! How like to Tamerlane the great, PolTefs'd of mofl unlucky Bajazet, Who kept the vanquifb'd hero in a cage ; Mock'd him before his mighty hoft, ^ With cruel names and threats, and grin and boaft. And daily thus indulg'd imperial rage I Now o'er the widow's cat, poor watching pufs. He triumph'd too, and afk'd the cat, When he would adl heroically thus And if he dar'd to venture on a rat. To [ 72 ] To whom the cat, as if in anfwer, mew'd, Which made the man of wifdom cry/ <' Oh! oh !" As if with knowledge of cat fpeech endu'd, He thought that piifs had anfwer'd " No." On which he laugh'd, and much enjoy'd the joke Then told the widow what the cat had fpoke. Six days the man of wifdom went Triumphant to Salthill, with big intent. To catch the bacon-ftealing moufe : Six mice fucceflively proclaim'd his art, With which, fafe pocketed, he did depart, And fhow'd to all his much-aftoniih'd houfe. But pleafiires will not lafl; for aye ; Witnefs the fequel of my lay The widow's vanity, her fex's flaw, Much like the vanity of other people — - A vapour, like the blaft that lifts a flraw. As hi^h, or higher, than Saint Martin's fteeple : This [ 73 ] This vanity then kidnapp'd her difcretion, Defign'd by God Ahiiighty for her guard; And of Its purpofc got the full completion, And all the widow's future glories marr'd : For, lo ! by this fame vanity impell'd. And to a middle-fiz'd balloon, With gas of confequence fublimely fwell'd. She burfted with th' important fecret foon. Loud laugh'd the tickled people of Salthill — - Loud laugh'd the merry Windfor folks around- This was to Solomon an ugly pill! ■ Her fatal error foon the widow found > For Solomon relinquifli'd moufe campaign, Nor deign'd to bait the widow's trap again ! U PETI- [ 74 ] PETITION to TIME, In Favour of the Dutchefs of Devonfliirc. loo long, O Time, in Bienfeances fchool> Have 1 bco bred to call thee an old fool ; Yet take 1 liberty to let thee know, That I have always thought thee fo : Full old art thou to have more fenfc- Then, with an idle cuflom, Time, difpenfe. Thou really adlcft new, like little mifles,. Who, when a pretty doll they make^ Their curious fingers itch to take The pretty image ail to pieces : Thus, after thou haft form'd a charming fairy Thou canft not quit her for thy foul. Till, meddling, thou haft fpoil'd her bloom and air, And dimm'd her eye, with radiance taught to rolL But [ 75 3 But now forbear fuch doings, I deiirc Hurt not the form that all admire Oh, never with white hairs her temple fprinkle- O.h, facred be her cheek, her lip, her bloom, And do not, in a lovely dimple's room, Place a hard mortifying wrinkle. Know, fhouldft thou bid the beauteous Dutchcfs fade^ Thou, therefore, muft thy own delights invade ; And know, 'twill be a long, long while. Before thou giv'ft her equal to our ifle Then do not with this fweet chef d'oeiivre part. But keep, to fhow the triumph of thy art. OECO- { 76 3 O E C O N O M Y. \J economy's a rery ufeful broom ; Yet fliould not ceafelefs hunt about'the room To catch each flragling pin to make a plumb- Too oft Oeconomy's an iron vice, That fqueezes ev'n the little guts of mice, That peep with fearful eyes, and afk a crumb. Proper Oeconomy's a comely thing Good in a fubjedl — better in a king ; Yet pufh'd too far, it dulls each finer feeling— Moft eafily inclined to make folks mean ; Inclines them too to villany to lean, To over-reaching, perjury, and ftealing. Ev'n when the heart fhould only think of grief, It creeps into the bofom like a thief. And fwallows up th' affedlions all fo mild Witnefs the Jewefs, and her only Child. 4 The [ 77 ] The JEWESS and her S O N. PoOPv Miftrefs Levi had a lucklefs fon. Who, rufliing to obtain the foremofl: feat, In imitation of th' ambitious great, High from the gal Try, ere the play begun, He fell all plump into the pit, Dead in a minute as a nit : In fhort, he broke his pretty Hebrew neck ; Indeed and very dreadful was the wreck ! The mother was diftradled, raving, wild Shriek'd, tore her hair, embrac'd and kifs'd her child- Afflicted ev'ry heart with grief around : Soon as the fliow'r of tears was fomcwhat pafl:, And moderately calm th' hyfteric blafl:, She cafl: about her eyes in thought profound : And being with a (living knowledge blefs'd, She thus the playhoufe manager addrefs'd : X <■' Shcr, I 78 ] ** slier, I'm de moder of de poor Chew lad, " Dat meet mifhfartin here fo bad " Sher, I miifs haf de /Killing back, you know,, *' Afs Mofes haf nat fee de £how." But as for Av'rice, 'tis the very devil ; The fount, alas ! of ev'ry evil ; The cancer of the heart — the worfl: of ills : Wherever fown, luxuriantly it thrives ; No llovv'r of virtue near it thrives Like Aconite, where'er it fpreads, it kills. la ev'ry foil behold the poifon fpring ! Can taint the beggar, and infe6l the king. The mighty Marlb'rough pilfer'd cloth and bread So fays that gentle fatirifl Squire Pope ; And Peterborough's Earl upon this head, Affords us little room to hope, That what the Tv/itnam bard avow'd, Might not be readily allow'd. The C 79 J The Earl of PETERBORCUGIi and the MOB. ., 1 H R O U G H London ftreets upon a day, The Earl of Peterborough took his way, All in his pompous coach— perhaps to dine r The mob of London took it in their head, This was the Duke of Marlborough, fo dread To Frenchmen on the Danube and the Rhine... Unable fuch high merit to reward, The mob refolv'd to fhow a great regard ; . And fo uniting, join'd their forces To draw his carriage, and difmifs the horfes. . The Earl from out his carriage pokVl his face, , And told the mob that he -was not his Grace; , ^ Then bid them be convinc'd and look : . . • Hard of belief, as cv'n the hardefl: Jew, . * They told him that they better knew, . Then fvvore by G he was the Duke : Tlien.i [ S5 ] Then threw their hats in air with loud huzzas. And form'd a thunder of applaufe. Loud bavvl'd the Earl that they were all deceiv'd— ^ — Loud bawl'd the nrab he fliould not be believ'd *' Zounds!" cry'd the Earl, "be converts then this minute;' So throwing fixpence to them, '• there, there, there, " Take that," crj-'d Peterborough, with a fneer '" Now if you think I'm hc^ the devil's in it." ODE [ 8. ODE to a DISTRESSED BEAUTY,- O W E E T girl, forbear to droop thy head with fhamc — AVhat tho' the parfon did not tie the knot ? What tho' the boy {hould come? — lie'U bring thee fame — The world's an afs, and cuftom is a fot Hold up thy head, and meet mankind with pride, And throw thy blufhes and thy fears afide. Eve had no parfon — for no prieft was Adam, And yet not out of countenance was Madam ; Her modefty receiv'd no grievous fhocks, When Mafter Cain was put upon the ftocks ; Nor when, t' increafe the number at her table, She fat about the frame of Mafter Abel. Once more, then, do not be afraid ; Without thy boy, a wonder may be mifiing A likenefs of my charming maid, The boy may do a credit to thy kifting. Y Thou [ 8. ] Thou putt'ft me of the morning much in mind, Who feems afraid to {>eep upon mankind-—^ So flow her motions ! all fo very flow ! And then her cheeks fo deep with crimfon glow i But fafe deliver'd of her boy, the Sun, 1 he lufty lad, fo proud his race to run, Mounts high exulting in his birth ; Dries up her tears, her blufhes puts to flight, Tow'rs in bold triumph o'er the cloud of nightj. And pours a flood of radiance o'er the earth. Then let me kifs away thy tears Oh ! ceafe thy flghs, and be a happy mother ^ And when this chopping boy appears, Suppofe we give the lad a little brother ? The [ 83 ] The GENTLEMAN and his W I FE. EOPLK may have too much of a good thing- Full as an egg of wifdom thus I {ing 1 A Man of fome fmall fortune had a wife, Sans doutCy to be the comfort of his life ; And pretty well they bore the yoke together : With little jarring liv'd the pair one year ; Sometimes the matrimonial fky was clear, At times 'twas dark and dull, and hazy weather. Now came the time when miflrefs in the ftraw Did, for the world's fupport, her fcreams prepare And Slop appear'd, with fair obftetric paw. To introduce his pupil to our air ; Whilft in a neighb'ring room the hufband fat, Mufmg on this thing now, and now on that -, Now [ 84 1 Now fioKin^ at the forrows of his wife ; Praying to Heav'n that he could take the pain ; But recoileding that fuch pray'rs were vain, He made no more an offer of his life. As thus he mus'd in folemn ftudy, Ideas fometimes clear, and fometimes muddy, In Betty rufh'd with comfortable news " Sir, Sir, I wifh you joy, I wifh you joy '' Madam is brought to bed of a fine boy "As fine as ever ftood in flioes." ** I'm glad on't, Betty," cry'd the mafter «' I pray there may be no difafter ; " All's with your miftrefs well, I hope ?" Quoth fhe, " All's well as heart can well defire " With Madam and the fine young Squire ; *' So likewife fays old Dodlor Slop." Off Betty hurried faft as fhe could fcour, Faft and as hard as any horfe That trotteth fourteen miles an hour— — ' A pretty tolerable courfe, 4 Soon [ 85 3 Soon happy Betty came again, Blowing widi all her might and main j JuiL like a grampus, or a whale ; In founds, too, that would Calais reach from Dover- " Sir, Sir, more happy tidings ; 'tis not over *' And Madam's brisker than a nightingale : ** A fine young lady to the world is come, " Squawling away juft as I left the room ■ " Sir, this is better than a good eftate." '* Humph," quoth the happy man, and fcratch'd his pate. Now looking up — now looking down ; Not with a fmile, but fomewhat like a frown " Good God," fays he, " why was not I a cock, " Who never feels of burd'ning brats the fhcck ; " Who, Turk-like, ftruts amidft his madams picking, " Whilft to the hen belongs the care " To carry them to eat, or take the air, '' Or bed beneath her wing the chicken ?" Z Jufl [ 86 ] Jufl as this fweet foliloquy was ended, He found affairs not greatly mended ; For in bounc'd Bet, her rump with japture jigging- *' Another daughter, Sir — a charming child." (C Another !" cry'd the man, with wonder wild ; '' Zounds ! Betty, afk your miftrefs if {he's pigghig'' The [ 8; ] The P A R S O N - D E A L E R. What pity 'tis, in this our goodly land, That 'mongft the apoftolic band. So ill divided are the loaves and fifhes ! ■ • Archbifliops, Bifhops, Deans, and Deacons, With ruddy faces blazing juft like beacons. Shall daily cram upon a dozen diflies ; Whilft half th' inferior CalTocks think it well Of beef and pudding ev'n to get the fmelL A plodding Hofller willing to be mafter, - And rife in this good world a little fafter, Left broom and mangier at the Old Blue Boar ; Meaning by pars^ning to fupport a table, Lo, of Divines he kept a liv'ry ftable . . . . A pretty ftud indeed — about a fcore. Of [ 83 ] Of diff'rent colours were his Gofpel hacks Some few were whites, indeed — but many blacks : That is, fome tolerable — many fad : And verily, to give the Devil his due, The man did decency purfue, Which fhows he was not quitz fo bad. For, lo ! to dying perfons of nobility. He fent his parfons of gentility To give the neceffary pray'r To parting people of a mean condition, Wanting a foul phyfician. He fuited them with blackguards to a hair. To fuch as were of mild diforders dying, Viz. of the dodor, gouts, or ftones, or gravels. He fent ^0(?(^ priefts — of manners edifying — To comfort iinners on their travels : But to low people in infc6lious fever, Or any other dangerous one in vogue, Such was his honefty, the man for ever Moft fcrupuloufiy fent a rogue. It [ 89 ] It happen'd on a day when Fate was raging, Crimp-like, for other regions, troops engaging, When clergymen were bu fy all as bees ; A poor old dying woman fent To this fame parfon-monger compliment, Begging a clergyman her foul to eafe. Unluckily but one was in the flail. And he the very beft of all ! What fhould be done ? Necejfttas ?Jon habet legs So to the prieft he goes and begs That he would vifit the Old Crone. " Sir," quoth the parfon, *' I agreed ** To go to gentlefolks in time of need, ** But not to ev'ry poor old loufy foul." «' True, ' cry'd the patron; " to be fure 'tis true; *< But, parfon, do oblige me — prithee do «* Let's put her decently into the hole : A a *' All [ 90 1 " All my black tribe, you know, are now abroad- " I'd do it, if I could, myfelf, by G — d ; <' Then what a dickens can I do or fay ? " Go, mumble, man, about a pray'r and half; " Tell tlie old b ch her foul is fafe ; " Then take your fee and come away! ! ! " BIEN- [ 91 ] B I E N S E A N C E. 1 HERE is a little moral thing in France, Call'd by the natives bienfeance \ Much are the Englilli mob inclin'd to fcout it, But rarely is Monfieur Cajiaille without it. To bie7^fea7^ce 'tis tedious to incline, In many cafes ; To flatter, par example^ keep fmooth faces When kick'd, or fuff'ring grievous want of coin. To vulgars, bienfeafjce may feem an oddity I deem it a mofl: portable commodity ; A fort of magic wand ; Which, if 'tis us'd with ingenuity, Although an utenfil of much tenuity. In place of fomething folid, it will ftand. For verily I've marvell'd times enow To fee an Englishman, the ninny, Give people for their fervices a guinea, Which Frenchmen have rewarded with a bow. Bows [ 9- J Bows arc a bit of bienfea7ice Much pradis'd too in that fame France ; Yet call'd by Quakers, children of inanity ; But as they pay their court to peoples' vanity, Like rolling-pins they fmooth where'er they ga The fouls and faces of mankind like dough I With fome, indeed, may bienfeance prevail To folly — fee the under-written tale. T he Petit Maitre, and the Man on the Wheel. At Paris fometime fince, a murd'ring man, A German, and a moft unlucky chap. Sad, {tumbling at the threfhold of his plan, Fell into Juftice's ftrong trap. The bungler was condemn'd to grace the wheel. On which the duUeft fibres learn to feel ; His limbs Jecundum artem to be broke Amidfl ten thoufand people, p'rhaps, or more ; Whenever Monfieur Ketch apply 'd a ftroke, The culprit, like a bullock, made a roar. A flip- [ 93 ] A flippant petit maitre fkipping by, Stepp'd up to him, and check'd him for his cry *' Boh !" quoth the German ; " an't I' pon de wheel ? " D'ye tink my nerfs and bons can't feel ?" ** Sir," quoth the beau \ " don'*., don't be in a pafTion j ** I've nought to fay about your fituation ; ** But making fuch a hideous noife in France, ' " Fellow, is contrary to bienfeanceJ' B b The C 94 1 The Triumph of Ifis, or Dr. Chapman's Thefis. vyXFORD's Vice Chancellor, a man Who fear'd the Lord, and lov'd the courtier clan, By virtue of his trade a Thefis * order'd, Which curs'd the terrible aflaffination Intended for the Monarch of our nation By Marg'ret Nicholfon, in mind diforder*d ; That likewife prais'd the royal peep On Oxford and the arts fo deep. So violent was Doctor Chapman's zeal, He quite forgot latinity and graces : Poor Prifcian's head, whofe wounds he cannot heal, Was broken in half a dozen places. Yet tho' a {imple Doflor, how amazing ! He fat the Univerfity a blazing * A Latin Thefis is annually given oxit by the Vice Chancellor for the fubjed of n Poem, and twenty pounds allotted to the prize can- didate. Such C 95 ] Such was the kindling zeal that he inherits——* A farthing candle in a cafk of fpirits ! Richards of Trinity, who won the prize, Now ftrutted viftor forth with fcornful eyes ; Bringing to mind the bards and tuneful dames Who vied for conqueft at th' Olympic games. Forth march'd, too, Vice — videlicet^ the Doctor, Who, purring for preferment, flily motifes. Attended by each dog-whipper, call'd Prodor, And eke the heads and tails of all the houles. Forth march'd the Nobles in their Sunday's geer ; Forth ftrutted, too, each beadle, like the Peer, With filver ftaffs, blue gowns, and velvet caps A fet of very pompous-looking chaps ! Whilft Hayes *, who fticks like ftag-hounds to a haunch, Mov'd on in all the majefty of paunch : * The organift. To i 96 ] To I EPISTLE TO A FALLING MINISTER. 1) L I N D to an artful Boy's Iniidious wiles, Vv^hy refts the Genius of the Queen of Isles ? Whilft Liberty in irons founds th' alarm., Why hangs fufpence on Virtue's coward arm ? Whilft Tyranny prepares her jails and thongs. Why deeps the fword of Justice o'er our wrongs ? . Oh ! meanly founding on a Father's fame, To Britain's higheft feat a daring claim ; B Oh! [ 6 ] Or. ! if thy race one bliifn could ever boafty And that lorn ngn of Virtue be not loft ; Nov/ on tliv vifage let the ft ranger burn, And c-low for deeds that bid an Empire mourn. Drawn from a Garret hj the Royal Sire, Warm'd like the viper by his friendly fire. What hath thy gratitudey/v3//V;/T/v done ? Fix'd, like the fnake, thy fang upon the Son f Yes — tliou moft gen'rous Youth, thy hoftile art Hath lodg'd a pois'nous {haft in Britain's Heart! Thy arm hath dragg'd the column to the ground. The facred wonder of the realms around I To make fnug, comfortable habitations For thee and all thy pitiful relations. Barbarian-like — hov/ like thofe fons of fpoil, VVl^ofe impious hands on hallow'd ftrudures toil - Bafe [ 7 ] Bafc throng, that through Palmyra's Temple digs. To form a lodging for themfelvcs and pigs ! Oh ! if Ambition prompts thy foaring foul To live the theme of future times with R.-lle ; Thrice happy Youth, like his fliall fiiine thy name. Who gave th' Ephefian wonder to the flame ! Siek at the name of R , (to thee though dear) The name abhorred by Honour's fhrinking ear, I draw relud:ant from thy venal throng, And give it mention, though it blafls my fong. How cou'dft thou bid that R-lle, dcfpis'd by all. On helplefs beauty like a maftiff fall : Then meanly to correal the brute pretend. And claim the merit of the * Fair One's Friend ? * A moft v/anton and illiberal att.ick made by this man on Mrs. F— h t in the Houfc 0/ Commons^ exeeeds all precedent. Is C 8 ] Art thou the Youth on whom the Virtues fmile ? The boafted Saviour of our finking Ifle ? O'er fuch, Oblivion, be thy wing difplay'd ! Oh ! waft them from the gibbet to thy Ihade I Yet what exped from thee^ whofe icy braift, A ftranger to their charm, the Loves deteft? 'Thec^ o'er whofe heart their fafcinatiiig pow'r Ne'er knew the triumph of one foft'ned hour ? To give thy flinty foul the tender figh, Vain is the radiance of the brighteft eye ! In vain for thee of beauty blooms the rofe : In vain the hvclling bofom fpreads its fnows A Jofeph tliou, againfl: the fex to flrive Dead to thofe charms that keep the v/orld alive ! \\\ vain thy malice pours its frothy tide Til vain the virtues of thy Prince to hide Thou [ 9 ] Tliou and tliy Imps, to dim his riCing ray:, Urge clouds on clouds to thwart the golden day 1 Mad toil ! — I fee his Ore fuperior pafs, That fmiles triumphant on the fable mafs. O ! a Sifter Kingdom damns thy deeds. And pities haplefs Britain as (he bleeds. HiBERNiA fcorns each meanly treach'rous art Hatch'd by the bafe r-b n of thy heart, That crawls an afpic bloated black with fate. To pour a dire contagion through the State. S6e, with an honeft voice, her Prince approves, And nobly trufts the virtues that ftie loves ; Detefts a hangman's unremitting toil To break upon the wheel a happy Ifle ; Who yet to pufh the guilt and folly further, Suborns Addrefles to applaud the murther I Who [ lO ] who but muft laugh to fee thy boafted friends. On whofe poor rotten trunks thy all depends I Sec Bute's mean Parafite, thy fpaniel, creep, Whofe Argus' eyes of av'rice never fleep ; A clofe State leech, who, flicking to the nation. As adders deaf to Honour's execration, Sucks from its throat the blood by night, by day. Nor till the State expires will drop away. Yet fee another Fiend, with fcowling eye. Who draws from Nature's foul her deepeft figh ; Afham'd her hand lliould ufher into light What Fate fhould whelm with everlafting night I Loft by his arts, behold the beauteous Maid *, Whom Inkocence. herfelf could ne'er upbraid. * T!ie melancholy circumflance alludeci to here, the family of Dr. Lynch, of C.inter'oury, can bed: explain. Sunk [ " ] Sunk a pale victim to the gaping tomb, Whilft all but he with grief furvey'd her doom ; Whofe heart difdain'd to feci — whofe eye fevere, Compaffion never melted with a tear ! Yet left in filence to himfelf alone, Aghaft he heaves the confcience-wounded groan ! At ev'ry found how horror heaves the {igh ! How dangers thicken on his ftraining eye ! He fees her Phantom^ form'd by treach'rous Love, Droop in the grot, and pine amid the grove : He marks her mien of woe, her check fo pale. And trembles at her fhrieks that pierce the gale ! At night's deep noon what fears his foul invade ! How wild he ftarts amidft the fpedler'd fhade ! And dreading ev'ry hopelefs hour the laft. He hears the call of Death in ev'ry blafl: ! Such [ ^2 ] Such are thy Colleagues *, O thou patriot Boy I Whofe heads and hearts thy virtues dare employ ; Who, crouching at thy heels, like bloodhounds wait To fliften on the vitals of the State ! Such are the mifcreants w^ho would rule the realm ! Such the black pirates that would feize the helm ! Had not I known thee, , the Mufe had fworn, That, blefl: to fee the State to atoms torn, Hell with her hofl had drawn each damned plan, And for the murder nurs'd thy dark Divan. Speak — Hath thy heart with mad ambition fir'd. Like Cromwell's, hot for pow'r, to thrones afpir'd? * \Vc muft not forget, however, Meflieurs their Graces of R. and G., Hairy D., cum plurimis aliis, though they have not the honour of being nientioned in our poetical calendar. Then [ ^3 ] Then may th.2.tj/oung, old trait'rous bofom feel The rapid vengeance of fome virtuous fteel ; Or what, to bofoms not quite flint, is worfe, May Heav'n w^ith hoary age a Rebel curfe - — From fweet fociety behold him torn, Condemn'd, like Cain, to walk the world forlorn. Thus rous'd to anger for my Country's wrong, The Mufe for vengeance panting pour'd hcv fong But, ah ! in vain I wifh'd the blefTing mine, To plant a fcorpion's fting in ev'ry line. Now Prudence gently puU'd the Poet's ear. And thus the Daughter of the Blue-ey'd Maid*, In Flatt'ry's foothing founds, divinely faid, " O Peter ! eldeft born of Phoebus, hear * Minerva. D , " Whofc (( <( [ u ] " Whofe verfe could ravifli Kings, relax the claw Of that gaunt, hungry favage chrift'ned Law Indeed thou wanteft worldly wifdom, Peter, *' To mix a little oft'ner with thy metre " Lo ! if thine eye Dame Fortune's fmile purfues, ^' To oily adulation prompt the Muse. ** Give for the future all thy rhymes to praife; *' Strike to the glorious Pitt thy founding lyre • " Thy head may then be crown'd with Warton's bays, ." And mutton twirl with fpirit at the fire." " Prudence," quoth I, "indeed — indeed I can't *' Don't afk me to turn rogue and fy cophant ! " Now with a fmile, firft coufin to a grin. Dame Prudence anfwer'd, bridling up her chin " Sweet [ ^5 1 " Su'eet, Iiarmlefs, pretty, confcientious Pigeon! *' Ah! Peter, well I ween thou art not rich *' Know that thou'lt die like beggars in a ditch " Know, too, that Hunger is of no rcHprion, *' Sit down and make a Horace imitation, *' Like Pope, and let the ftanza glow *' With praife of Mejfteiirs Pitt and Co., ** The prefent worthy Rulers of the Nation." With purs'd-up, puritanic mouth fo prim. Thus fpoke Dame Prudence to the Bard of Whim ; Who, with politenefs feldom running o*er. For infpiration fcratch'd his tuneful fconce. To pleafe Dame Oracle, for once A Dame, fome fay, he never faw before. IMITA- I ^6 ] IMITATION OF HORACE, . : (ODE XII. BOOK I. ) On Mejfmirs PITT and CO. M USE, liaving dropp'd Sir Joseph and the King, What fort of gentry fhall we deign to fing ? What high and mighty name that all adore ? What minifterial wight that bribes each Cit, Wolf-like to howl for hoolaffe to JCijiiG Fitx, And fet each fmoky alehoyfe in a roar j That fends to counties, borough-towns, his crimps, Alias his vote-feducing pimps^ To bribe the mob with brandy, beer, and fong, To put their greafy fifts to Court Addrefles, Full of profefhons kind, and fweet carefles, And with a fiddle lead the logs along. Shall I «7 } Shall DoRNFORD, king of wine, and mum, and pcrrv, Be crown'd \vith lyric bays, with Maftcr Merry ; Two Higes who, in diff'rent places born. Chick Lane and Black-Boy Alley did a-dprn ? Or, Mufe, fuppofe we iing King Pitt himfelf, The greateft man on earth — a cunning elf, Who driveth, jEHu-like, the Church and State : And, next to Royal Pitt, we'll fing the Dame, Of open, gen'rous, charitable fame, Lamenting fad a Monarch's haplefs fate; Who, though transfix'd by Sorrow's dart fo cruel, • So prudent, numbers each Bank note and jewel ! Nor fhall we by old Bacchus Weymouth pafs, A jolly fellow o'er his glafs Nor, SwELLENBERGj flialt thou a (hrimp appear, - ' ' Whofe palate loves a dainty difh, Whofe teeth in combat fhine with flefli and fifli, Whofe Strelitz ftomach holds a butt of beer ; E Who [ iS ] Who foon Dwlt keep a falefhop for good places, For which fo oft the people fquabble, From gaping Coblers to their gaping Graces, And thus provide for great and little rabble. I'll fing how calmly C n takes the bit, And trots fo mildly under Master Pitt ; And Th w, too, whom none but Pitt could tame, Who, bleft with Mafler Billy's fineft faddle. No longer makes our brains with neighing addle No longer now Job's war horfe fnorting flame; But that flow Brute whom few or none revere, Fam'd for his fine bafe voice and length of ear 5 Yet now fo gentle, you may fmooth his nofe Poor CH-C-LLOR* will make no riot- Calm in his ftall his aged limbs repofe, And pleas'd he eats his oats and hay in quiet ! * The name of the horfe. Thij [ ^9 ] This Pair, fo tame, amid the courtier throng, Shall drag their Mafter William's coach along, And raife the wondsr of the million ! Juft like two bull-dogs in a country town, That gallop in their harners up and down, With Monsieur Monkey for pollillion. We'll iing the Brothers of our loving Queen, Fine hungry, hearty youths as e'er were feen ; Who, if once try'd, would fhine, I make no doubt And chiefly he who merits high rewards, W^ho, wrigling to the Hanoverian guards, Kept the poor Prince of Brunswick out. Although fo bravT a Prince, and fpilt his blood So freely for the King of England's * good. * This is fcarcely credible, but it is neverthelefi true. — The Prince ot Brunfwick's Genius \\zs> forced to yield to the fuperior one of the Queen's brother ! We'll [ 20 ] We'll ling, too, Maftcr R-lle, who, fond of fame, High-daring, from the land ot dumplings came, To bear the Minister — to be his afs Like Conj'ror Balaam's reasoning brute, That carry 'd Balaam, Balak to falute, And curfe the Ifraelites, alas ! And lo ! as did the Lord Who op'd the mouth of Balaam's bead ; So hath our Lord, Squire Pitt, upon my word, Op'd Master R-lle's, to give the houfe a feaft ! Yet, hang it ! Dev'nshire is by Aram * beat A circumflance that wrings the Poet's foul- For Balaam's Jackafs made a fpeech quite neat, Which never yet was done by Pitt's poor R . * Balaam's Country Seat. Or [ ^I ] Oi' (Tiall I fing old Cornwall's death, Or fierce Sir Bullface, who refign d his breath With Brother Cornwall in the felf-famc year — A downright bear ! Who bade a Monarch, like a boy at fchool, Not fpend his money like a f~-? We too might fing the King of Swine, Sir Joseph! peerlefs in the fat'ning line. We too may Brudenell fing, who, fome time fince, Admir'd and lov'd, ador'd and prais'd his Prince ; Follow'd him, fpaniel like, about ; Swore himfelf black, poor fellow, in the face, That he would ten times rather lofe his place Than leave him — Thus faid he with phiz devout : But when it came to pafs His Highness try'd him, This falfe Apostle, Peter like, deny'd him ! F We'll [ 22 3 We'll finer Lord Galloway, a man of note, Who tiirn'd his Taylor, much enrag'd, away, Becaufe he ftitch'd a ftar upon his coat So fmall, it fcarcely threw a ray Whereas he wiih'd a planet huge to flame. To put the moon's full orb to fhame He wanted one fo large, with rays fo thick, As to eclipfe the ftar of Sir John Dick ! Sir John, who got his ftar, fo bright and flout, For making fuper- excellent four krout *. Or, Mufe, fuppofe we fing the Sp— ker's wig. In which, 'tis faid, a world of wifdom lies ; Which, to a headpiece fcarcely worth a fig. Importance gives, that greatly doth furprife, * This honour of the flar was really conferred on him by the Empress of Russia for furnlfliing the Ruflian fleet, In the Medi- terranean, with the above cabbage manufadurc, to fharpen their cou- rage for a maflacre of the poor Turks. When [ 23 3 when through the chaos of the hoiife he baw U For Order that oft flies St. Stephen's walls; Driv'n by a hoft of fcrapes, and hawks, and hums, And blowing nofes, that diftracl her drums. For, Mufe, we can't well fing poor Gr lle's head, Becaufe it wanteth eyes — imperfect creature ! Again — its lining hap'neth to be lead Such are the whiniiicalities of Nature : And thus this fpeaking headpiece is, no doubt. As dark ivithifi as certes 'tis without I Yet was this Youth proclaim'd a pretty fprig, A very promiling, a thriving twig, That by his parents dear was faid would be, In time, a very comely tree, And what thofe parents dear would alfo fuit, Produce enormous quantities of fruitj By [ ^4 ] Bv God's good grace, and much good looking after A thoiK^ht that now convulfeth us with laughter ! Suppofe we chaunt old Willis and Ills whip. At which the human hide revolts j Who bids, like grafshoppers, his pupils fkip, And breaks mad gentlemen like colts ; Or trains them, like a pointer, to his hand And fuch the mighty Conjuror's command, He, by the magic of flicks, ropes, and eyes, Commands wild Folly to be tame and wife. Or grant we throw away a verfe or two Upon the Bedchamber's moft idle Imps Thofe Lords of gingerbread — a gaudy crew, Sticking together juft like fecial fhrimps ; Regardlefs who the State Coach drives, So they may lead good merry, lazy lives ; Pleas'd e*en from devils to receive their pay. So they, like moths, may flutter life away ! Pitt [ '^5 ] Pitt fliall the Houic of Commons rulcj And eke of poor Incuts-ables the fchool ; And pour on fuch the vengeance of his fpleen As meanly think of Hastings and the 1 On di'monds Pitt and Co. fhall largely feaft, Knock down the Nabobs, and exhaufl: the Eaft ! O Lady ! whofe great vvifdom thinketh fit To fpread thy petticoat o'er William Pitt! This William Pitt and Thou, without a joke, Will turn out moft extraordinary folk I Pitt and the Petticoat fhall rule together, Each with the other vaftly taken ; Make, when they chufe, or fair or filthy weather, And cut up kingdoms juft like bacon ! THUS [ 26 J THUS Raving fini/li'd, Pkudence, with a ftarc, Exclaim'd, " Rank irony — thou wicked Poet."- Quoth I, " My little Prcrbyterian Fair, " I know- it."' — — " Ah ! "' quoth the Dame again, with lifted eyes, 026 5. FAREWELL ODES -. 1786, 030 6. The LOUSIAD, Canto I. — — — — 026 7. — — Canto II. — — — —026 8. Congratulatory EPISTLE to JAMES BOSWELL —020 9. BOZZY and PIOZZI, a TOWN ECLOGUE — — 030 ID. ODE upon ODE, or a PEEP at St. JAMES'S — — 030 11. An APOLOGETIC POSTCRIPT to ODE upon ODE 020 12. INSTRUCTIONS to a certain POET LAUREAT — 026 13. BROTHER PETER to BROTHER TOM — —030 14. PETER'S PENSION, a folemn EPISTLE — —030 15. PETER'S PROPHECY — — —030 16. SIR J. BANKS and the EMPEROR of MOROCCO o i 6 17. EPISTLE to a FALLING MINISTER — —026 ^.206 *..^* Complete Sets may now be had, including a Mezzotinto Engraving of the Author b}-- one of the mod: eminent Artifls. I LYRIC ODES, FOR THE YEAR I783, [Plies ONE SHILLING ami SIXPENCE.] F.>rT.^RED AT STATIONERS' HALL. « M O R t L Y R I G ODES TO THE R O Y A L A C A D E iVI 1 C I A N S, BY V E r E R P ] N D A R. Esquire. A DISTANT RELATION O F T H 2 POET or THEBES, AND LAUREAT TO the ACADExMY. THE FIFTH EDITION. ECCE ITERUM CRISPINUs! LONDON: PrinteJ for G. KEARSLEY, »t Johnson's Hi-ad, No. 46, Flbet STRiiT\ M.UCC.LXXXir. [ 5 ] LYRIC ODES. ODE I. Peter piiffeth aivqy — Difplayeth his learning — Praifelh thz Reviewers — Defer ibeth hi??ifelf moj} pathetically — Confoleth himfelf — Dijliketh the road to the Temple of Fame by means of a pifol^ poifony or a 7'ope — Addreffeth great folks — Giveth the King a broad hi?tt — AJketh a queer quefion— Maketh as queer an apofrophe to Genius. OONS of the Brufh, I'm here again! At times a Pindar, and Fontaine, Cafting poetic pearl (I fear) to fwine I For hang me if my laft year's Odes Paid rent for lodgings * near the gods, Or put one fprat into this mouth divine. * The attic ftory, or, according to the vulgar phrafe, garret. B For [ 6 ] For odes, my Cousin had rump-fteaks to eat ! So fays Paufanias — loads of dainty meat ! And this the towns of Greece, to give, thought fit : The beft hiftorians, one and all, declare, With the moft folemn air, The poet might have guttled till he fplit. How different far, alas ! my worfhip's fate ! To footh the horrors of an empty plate, The grave poffeffors* of the critic throne. Gave me, in truth, a pretty treat Of fiattery, mind me, not of meat ; For they, poor fouls, like me, are fkin and bone. No, no ! with all my lyric pow'rs, I'm not like Mrs. Co sway's Hours ^f ■* See the Reviews for lafl year. t A fubllme picture this! the expreffion is truly Homerical. — The fair artift hath, in the moft furpriling manner, communicated to canvafs the old Bard's idea of the brandy-fac\l hours. -See the Ihad. Red C 7 ] Red as cock-turkies, plump as barn-door chicken : Merit and I are miferably off We both have got a moft confumptive cough ; Hunger hath long our harmlels bones been picking. Merit and I, fo innocent, fo good, Are like the little children in the wood And foon, like them, fhall lay us down and die I May fome good chriflian bard, in pity ftrong. Turn redbreaft kind, and with the fweeteft fong Bewail our haplefs fate with wat'ry eye ! Poor Chatterton was flarv'd with all his art ! Some cohfolation this to my lean heart Like him, in holes too, fpider-like, I mope ; And there my Rev'rence may remain, alas I The world will not difcover it, the afs ! Until I fcrape acquaintance with a rope» Thei? C 8 ] Then up your Walpoles, Bryants, mount like bees j Then each my pow'rs with adoration fees-- — - Nothing their kind civilities can hinder- — When, like an Otho, I am found ; Like Jacob's fons, they'll look one t'other round, And cry, *' Who would have thought this a young Pindar?" Hanging's a difmal road to fame—— Piftols and poifon juft the fame -— = And what is worle, one can't come back again Soon as the beauteous gem we find, We can't difplay it to mankind, Though won with fuch wry mouths and wrigling pain. Ye Lords and Dukes fo clever, fay, {For you have much to give away. And much your gentle patronage I lack,) Speak, is it not a crying fin, That Folly's guts are to his chin, Whilft 7nine are flunk a mile into my back ? Of: [ 9 ] Oft as his facred Majcfly I f:c. Ah ! George (I figh) thou haft good things with thee, Would make me fportiv^e as a youthful cat ', It is not that my foul fo loyal Would wifh to wed the Princefs Royal, Or be Archbifhop no ! I'm not for that. Nor really have I got the grace To wifh for Laureat Whitehead's place 5: Whofe odes Cibberian fweet, yet very manly,. Are fet with equal ftrength by Mr. Stanley. Would not one fwear that Heav'n lov'd fools, There's fuch a number of them made ; Bum-proof to all the flogging of the fcho Is, No ray of knowledge could their fkulls pervade ? Yet, take a peep into thofe fellows' breeches, We ftare like congers,- to obfeive their riches. C O Genuis ! { lO ] O Genius ! what a wretch art thou. Thou canft not keep a mare nor cow, With all thy compliment of wit fo frifky ! Whilft Folly, as a mill-horfe blind, Befide his compter, gold can find. And Sundays fport z.J}rumpet and a whifiy ! ODE [ " ] « ODE II. Peter begin?ieth to critktfe — Acldreffeth the BritiJJj Raphael — Projnifeth Mr, Weft great things^ ar.d like great folks breaks his '■jiwrd — Laugheth at the figure of King Charles — Lapeth that of Oliver Cromwell ; a7jd ridiculeth the piSitire of Peter and fohn galloping to the Sepulchre Under- flandeth plain-work, and jujily condemneth the fljortnefs of the JJjirts of Mr. Weft's Angels Concludeth with making that Artifl a handfoi7ie offer of an American hnmortality. iN OW for my criticifm on paints, Where bull-dogs, heroes, ftnners, faints, Flames, thunder, lightning, in confufton meet ! ~ Behold the works of Mr. West ! That artift firft fhall be addreft His pencil with due reverence I greet Still bleeding from his laft year's wound. Which from my doughy lance he found ; Methinks I hear the trembling painter bawl, *' Why doft thou perfecute me, Saulf^ Weft, [ 12 ] Wejl, let me whifper in thy ear Snug as a thief within a mill, From me thou haft no caufe to fear. To panegyric will I turn my fkill ; And \{ t\vj pSiure I am forc'd to blame, I'll fay moft handjome things about x\\^ frame ^ Don't be caft down inftead of gall, Molaffes from my pen fhall fall: And yet, I fear thy gullet it is fuch, That could I pour all Niagara down, Were Niagara praife, thou wouldft not frown, Nor think the thund'ring gulph one drop too much. Ye gods ! the portrait of the King \ A very Saracen ! a glorious thing ! It fhows 2i flaming pencil^ let me tell ye Methinks I fee the people ftare, And, anxious for his life, declare, *' King George hath got a firefhip in his belly." Thy [ 13 1 Thy Charles ! .what muft I fay to that ? Each face unmeaning, and fo flat! Indeed firft coufin to a piece of board But, Mufe, we've promis'd in our lays, To give our Tcmkey painter praifc ; So, Madam, 'tis but fair to keep your word. Well then, the Charles of Mr. Weft, And Oliver, I do proteft. And eke the witnefles * of refurre£tion ; Will flop a hole, keep out the wind. And make a properer window-blind, Than great Correggio'sf , us'd for horfe protection. They'll make good floor cloths, taylors' meafures, For table coverings, be treafures, * Corregglo's beft pidures were a£lually made ufe of in the royal ftables in the North, to keep the wind from the tails of the horfes. t Peter and John. D With [ ^4 ] With butchers, form for flies moil: charming flappers ; And Monday mornings at the tub, When queens of fuds their linen fcrub. Make for the blue-nos'd nymphs delightful wrappers. Wejl^ I forgot laft year to fay. Thy Angels ^\A my delicacy hurt ; Their linen fo much coarfenefs did difplay : What's worfe, each had not above half a fhirt. I tell thee, cambrick fine as webs of fpiders, Ought to have deck'd that brace of heavenly riders. Could not their faddle-bags, pray, jump To fomewhat longer for each rump ? I'd buy much better at a Wapping fhop, By vulgar tongues baptiz'd a flop ! Do mind, my friend, thy hits another time. And thou flialt cut a figure in my rhyme : Sublimely [ ^5 1 Sublimely tow'ring ^midfl th' Atlantic roar, I'll waft thy praifes to thy native* fhore ; Where Liberty"^ brave fons their poeans fing, And every fcoundrel convidl is a king. * America. ODE [ I6 ] O D "The Poet addrejjeth Mr, Gainfboroiigh-^E.r/6/^/V^z^i' great Scripture erud';tion — Co?2demjjeth Mr. Gainfbcroiigh'j' Pla- giarifm — Giveth the Artiji wholfoffie advice — Praifeth the Cor?tiJ}j Boy ; and fayeth fine things to Jackfon. OW, Gainsborough, let me view thy fhining labours, V/lio, mounted on thy painting throne, On other brufhmen look' ft contemptuous down,v Like our great admirals on a gang of fwabbers. My eyes broad ftaring wonder leads To yon dear neft * of royal heads ! How each the foul of my attention pulls ! Suppofe, my friend, thou giv'ft the frame A pretty little Bible name, And call'ft it Golgotha, the Place of Skulls ^ * A frame full of heads, in mod humb/e imitation of the Royal Family. Say, [ 17 ] Say, didfl: thou really paint 'em ? (to be free) An angel finifli'd Luke's tranfcendent line Perchance that civil angel was with thee For let me perifh if I think them thine. Thy dogs* are good! but yet, to make thee ftare, The piece hath guin'd a number of deriders — — They tell thee, Genius in it had no fhars, But that thou foully ftoFfl the curs from Snyders. I do not blame thy borrowing a hint, For, to be plain, there's nothing in't The man who fcorns to do it, is a log : An eye, an ear, a tail, a nofe. Were modefty, one might fuppofe ; But, z — ds ! thou muft not fmuggle the whole dog. * A picture of boys fetting dogs to fight. O GainS' [ ^8 ] O Gainsborough, Nature plaineth fore, That thou haft kick'd her out of door, Who in her bounteous gifts hath been fo free, To cull fuch genius out for thee Lo ! all thy efforts without her are vain ! Go find her, kifs her, and be friends again. Speak, Mufe, who form'd that matchlefs head, The Cornifli Boy*, in tin mines bred ; Whofe native genius, like his diamonds, fhone In fecret, till chance gave him to the. fun f 'Tis Jackson's portrait put the laurel on it, Whilft to that tuneful fwan I pour a fonnet. * O P I E. SONNET, [ '9 ] SONNET, To JACKSON, of Exeter Enchanting harmonift ! the art is thine, Unmatch'd, to pour the foul-diflblving air, That feems poor weeping Virtue's hymn divine. Soothing the wounded bofom of Defpair ! T fay, what minftrel of the (ky hath given To fwell the dirge, fo mufically lorn ? Declare, hath dove-ey'd Pity left her heaven, And lent thy happy hand her lyre to mourn ? So fad, thy fongs of liopelefs hearts complain, Love, from his Cyprian ifle, prepares to fly ; He haftes to liften to thy tender ftrain, And learn from thee to breathe a fweeter flgh. ODE [ ^^ ] O D E V. T/j2 'yreat Peter^ by a bold Pi?idaric jump, leapeth from So?t?iei to Gull-catching. xVEADERj doft know the mode of catching Gulls? If not, I will inform thee Take a board, And place a fifli upon it for the fools A fprat, or any fifli by Gulls ador'd : Thofe birds, who love a lofty flight. And fometimes bid the fun good night ; Spying the glittering bait that floats below ; Sans cerhno7iie^ down they rufh, (For Gulls have got no manners) on they pufli ; And what's the pretty confequence, I trow ? They ftrike their gentle jobbernowls of lead Plump on the board then lie like boobies dead. Reader, I ^l ] Reader, thou need'ft not beat thy brains about, To make fo plain an application out There's many a painting puppy, take my word, Who knocks his filly head againfl a board That might have helpM the ftate made a good jailor, A nightman, or a tolerable taylor. O D M [ " ] O D E VI. Teter d'tfcovereth more fcriptural erudition — Groweth far- caftic on the Exhibition — Giveth a wonderful account of St. Dennis — Blujheth for the honour of his country — Talhth fenfibly of the Due de Chartres and the French King. *' J? IND me in Sodom out," (exclaim'd the Lord) " Ten Gentlemen^ the place fhan't be Mntown d—'-— ** That is, I will not burn it ev'ry board :" The dev'l a Gentleman was to be found ! But this was rather hard, fince Heav'n well knew That every fellow in it was a yew. This houfe is nearly in the fame condition——*" Scarce are good things amid thofe wide abodes Find me ten pictures in this Exhibition, That ought not to be d — n'd, I'll burn my Odes ! And C ^3 ] And then the world will be in fits and vapours, Juft as It was for poor Lord Mansfeld's papers*, St. Dennis, when his jowl was taken off, Hugg'd it, and kifs'd it carried it a mile— This was a pleafant miracle enough, That maketh many an unbeliever fmile. ** 'Sblood ! 'tis a lie !" you roar Pray do not fwear, You may believe the wond'rous tale indeed ! Speak, hav'n't you faid that many a pidlure here Was really done by folks without a head? And hav'n*t you fworn this inllant, with furprife, That he who did that thi?jg, had neither hands nor eyes ? * To the irreparable lofs of the public, and that great law expounder, burnt ! burnt in Lord George Gordon's religious conflagration. The newfpapers howled for months over their afhes.— — Oy6^yW«y^7/« ejl. How, [ ^- 1: How is it that fucli miferable' ftuff The walls of this ilupendous building ftaiiis ? The Coiincirs ears with pleafure I could cuff; Mind me — I don't fay, batter out their brains. What will Duke Chartres fay when lie goes homCj And tells King Lewis all about the room ? Why, viewing fuch a fet of red-hot heads, Our Exhibition he will liken Hell to ; Then to the Monarch.^ who both ivrites and reudsy Give hand-bills of the fivondroK-s Ka$tjsrfelio, Swearing th' Academy was all fo Hat, He'd rather fee the Wizard and his cat. ODE [ *5 ] ODE VIL The Britifli Peter elegantly and happily depiSieth his great Cotijin o/" Thebes — Talketh of Fame — Horfewhippeth the Painters for turfii?tg their own Trumpeters. A DESULTORY way of writing, A hop and ftep and jump mode of inditing, My great and wife relation, Pindar, boafted : Or, (for I love the bard to flatter) By jerks, like boar -pigs making water. Whatever firft came in his fconce, Bounce, out it flew, like bottl'd ale^ at once, A cock, a bull, a whale, a foldier roaflied. What fharks we mortals are for fame ! How poacher- like we hunt the game ! G No [ ^6 3 No matter, for it, how we play the fool And yet, 'tis pleafmg our own laud to hear, And really very natural to prefer One grain of praife to pounds of ridicule. IVe loft all patience with the trade I mean the painters who can't flay To fee their works by criticifm difplay'd, And hear what others have to fay ; Btit calling Fame a vile old lazy ftrumpet, Sound their own praife from their own penny* trumpet. Amidft the hurly-burly of my brain, Where the mad Lyric mufe, with pain. Hammering hard verfe her Ikill employs, And beats a tinman's fhop in noife ; * At the beginning of the Exhibition, the public papers fvvarmed with thofe felf-adulators. Catching • [ 27 ] Catching wild tropes and fimiles, That hop about like fwarms of fleas We've loft Sir Joshua Ah ! that charming elf, I'm griev'd to fay, hath this year loft hi77ifelf. Oh ! Richard^ thy St. George^ fo brave, Wifdom and Prudence could not fave From being foully murder'd, my good friend ; Some weep to fee the woeful figure ; Whilft others laugh, and many fnigger, As if their mirth would never have an end. Prithee accept th' advice I give with forrow Of poor St, George the ufelefs armour borrow, To guard thy own poor corpfe — don't be a mule Take it — e'en now thou'rt like a hedgehog, quilFdy (Richardy I hope in God thou art not kilFd) By the dire fhafts of merc'lefs ridicule. * See Mr. Cofway's piclure of Prudence, Wifdom, and Valour arm- ing St. George. Pity [ 28 ] Pity it is ! 'tis true 'tis pity ! As Shakefpeare lamentably fays, That thou, in this obferving City, Thus run'ft a wh-r-ng after PRAISE : With Jlrong defires I really think thee fraught ; But, Dick:, the nymph, fo coy, will not be caught. Yet, for thy confolation, mind ! In this thy wounded pride may refuge find- Think of the Sage who wanted a fine piece : Who went, in vain, five hundred miles at lead. On Lais, a fwettji/le de joie, to feaft The Mrs. Robinjon of Greece. Prithee give up, and fave the paints and oil. And don't whole acres of good canvafs fpoil : Thou'lt fay, " Lord ! many hundreds do like w^." Lord ! fo have fellows robF d — nay, further. Hundreds of villians have committed murther ; But, Richard f are thefe precedents for thee f ODE [ 29 ] ODE VIII. Peter groweth ironically facetioui JL^ ATURE's a coarfe, vile, daubing jade I've faid it often, and repeat it She doth not iinderfland her trade Artifls, ne'er mind her work, I hope you'll beat it. Look now, for heav'n's fake, at her fkies ! What are they ? — Smoke, for certainty, I know ; From chimney-tops, behold ! they rife, ^rade by fonie fweating cooks below. Look at her dirt in lanes, from whence it comes From hogs, and ducks, and geefe, and horfes' bums Then tell me. Decency^ I muft requefl. Who'd copy fuch a dev'lifh nafty heajl ? H Paint [ 30 ] Paint by the yard— —your canvafs fpread, Broad as the main-fail of a man of war — ~ Your Whale (hall eat up ev'ry other Head, Ev'n as the Sun licks up each fneaking Starl I do affure you, htslk is no bad trick — -— By bulky things both me7t and makls are taken- Mind, too, to lay the paints like mortar thick, And make your picture look as red as bacon. All folks love ^;^^ J believe my rhyme; Burke fays, 'tis part of xhe fublime. A Dutchman, I forget his nam.e, — P^a?i Grout, Vail Slabber chops ^ Van Stmk, Van S'uoab, — No matter, though I cannot make it out At calling names I never was a dab : Th IS r 5^ 1 This Dutchman then, a man of tafte, Holding a cheefe that weigh'd a hundred pound, Thus, like a Burgomafter, fpoke with judgement va/j " No poet like my broder ftep de ground : " He be de befteft poet, look ! *' Dat all de vorld muft pleafe 3 ',* Vor he heb vrite von book, " So ^ig as all dis cheefe /" If at a dijlance you would paint a pig, Make out each fingle briflle on his back : Or if your meaner fubjecl be a wig. Let not the caxon a diJiinSinefs lack j Elfe, all the Lady Critics will fo ftare, And, angry vow, " 'Tis not a bit like hair!" Be [ 3^- 1 Be fmooth as glafs like DENNrp. fnJlli high j Then every tongue commenas — — For people judge not onk by the eye, V>Vitfeel your merit by iheir finger ends ; Nay ! clofely nofmg^ o'er the pidure dwell. As if to try the good?ieJs by t\\tfmell, Claudes diftances are too confus'd One floating fcene — nothing made out— For which he ought to be abus'd, Whofe works have been io cry'd about. Give me the pencil, whofe amazing ftyle Make's a bird's beak appear at twenty mile; And to my view, eyes, legs, and claws will bring, With ev'ry feather of his tail and wing. Make all your trees alike, for nature's wild- Fond of variety, a wayward child To [ 33 ] To blame your tafte fome blockheads may prefume ; But mind that ev'ry one be like a broom. Of fteel and pureft filver form your waters, And make your clouds like rocks and alligators. Whene'er you paint the moon, if you are willing To gain applaufe why paint her like a ihilling ? Or sol's bright orb — be fure to make him glow Precifely like a guinea, or a Jo*. In fliort, to get your pictures prais'd and fold, Convert, like Midas, e-very thing to gold. I fee, at excellence, you'll come at loft- Your clouds are made of very brilliant ftuff ; The blues on China mugs are now furpafs'd. Your ftin fets yield not to brick walls, nor bufF. * A Portugal coin, vulgarly called a Johannes. I In [ 54 ] In ftumps of trees your art fo finely thrives, They really look like golden-hafted knives ! Go on, my lads — leave nature's difmal hue, And fhcj ere long, will come and qo^J you. ODE [ 35 ] ODE IX. iTie ftibli7ne Peter co7icludeth in a fweat. X HUS have I finifli'd, for this time, My Odes, a little wild and rambling May people bite Hke gudgeons at my rhyme ! I long to fee them fcrambling Then very foon I'll give 'em more (God willing) But this is full fufficient for ^JJjilling*. For fuch a trifle, fuch a heap I Indeed I fell my goods too cheap. Finijh'd ! a difappointed artift cries. With open mouth, and ftraining eyes ; Gaping for praife, like a young crow for meat " Lord ! why ycu have not mentioned m&P^ Mention thee ! Thy impudence hath put me in ^ fweat What rage for fame attends both great and fmall ! Better be cl--7id^ than mention'd not at ail 1 * Now Eighteen Pence with additions, THE END. A LIST OF PETER PINDAR'S WORKS, Any of which may be had of G. KEARSLEY, No. 46, Fleet Street, I' s, d. 1. A Supplicating EPISTLE to the REVIEWERS, — 010 2. LYRIC ODES to the Royal Academicians, for 1782, o 20 3. — _ — 1783, o I 6 5. FAREWELL ODES — 1786, 030 6. The LOUSIAD, Canto I. — — — —026 y. — — Canto II. — — — —026 8. Congratulatory EPISTLE to JAMES BOSWELL — o 2 « 9. BOZZY and PIOZZI, a TOWN ECLOGUE — — 030 10. ODE upon ODE, or a PEEP at St. JAMES'S — — 030 11. An APOLOGETIC POSTCRIPT to ODE upon ODE 020 12. INSTRUCTIONS to a certain POET LAUREAT —026 13. BROTHER PETER to BROTHER TOxM — —030 14. PETER'S PENSION, a folemn EPISTLE — —030 15. PETER'S PROPHECY — — —030 16. SIR J. BANKS and the EMPEROR of MOROCCO o i 6 ^. I 18 o A N EPISTLE TO THE REVIEWERS. Price ONE SHILLING and SIX PENCE. -j:-VTERED AT S T AT I O N E RS' H A L i. t ■** 15 Poetical, Suppl'icatingj Modeft, and AfFe6lmg EPISTLE TO THOSE LITERARY COLOSSUSES, THE REVIEWERS, By peter PINDAR, Esq, A N E ^V EDITION. Carmine, Di Supcri placantur. Carmine, Manes. L O N D O N: Printed for G. K EARS LEY, at Johnson's Head, No. 46, Fleet Street. m,dcc,lxxxix. ♦ TO THE REVIEWERS. X AT HERS of Wifdom, a poor wigKt befriend ! Oh hear my fimple prayer in fimple lays : In forma pauperis behold I bend, And of your Worfhips aik a little praife. I am no cormorant for fame, d'ye fee ; I afk not all the laurel, but a fprig I Then hear me, Guardians of the facred Tree, And flick, a leaf or two about my wig. In fonnet, ode, and legendary tale. Soon will the prefs my tuneful works difplay ; Then do not damn 'em, and prevent the fale ; And your petitioner fhall ever pray. B [ 2 ] My labours damn'd, the Mufe with grief will groan — ~» The cenfure dire my lantern jaws will rue ! Know I have teeth and ftomach like your own, And that I wifli to eat as well as you. I never faid, like murderers in their dens^ You fecret met in cloud-capp'd garret high, With hatchets, fcalping knives in fhape of pens, To bid, like Mohocks, haplefs authors die : Nor faid, (in your Reviews, together ftrung) The limbs of butcher 'd writers, cheek by jowl, Look'd like the legs of flies on cobwebs hung ^ Before the hungry fpider's dreary hole. I ne'er declared, that, frightful as the Blacks, In greafy flannel caps you met together, With fcarce a rag of fhirt about your backs. Or coat or breeches to keep out the weather. /u Heav'n [ 3 ] Heav'n knows I'm innocent of all tranfgrelTion Againft your honours, men of clafTic fame ! I ne'er abus'd your critical profeffion, Whofe diSium faves at once or damns a name. I never queftion'd your profound of head, Nor vulgar^ call'd your wit, your manners coarfe ; Nor fwore on butcher'd authors that you fed Like carrion crows upon a poor dead horfe. I never faid, that, pedlar like, you fold Praife by the ounce, or pound, like fnuff or cheefe ; Too well I knew you filver fcorn'dand gold — - Such drofs, a fage Reviewer feldom fees ! I never hinted that, with half a crown Books have been fent you by the fcribbling tribe \ Which fee hath purchas'd pages of renown : No, for I knew you'd fpurn the paltry bribe. I ne'er [ 4 ] V I ne'er averr'd, you critics to a man, For pence, would fvvear an owl excell'd the lark ; Nor call'd a coward gang, your grave Divan, That ftabb'd, like bafe affaflins, in the dark. I never prais'd, or blam'd, an author's book, Until your wife opinions came abroad ; On thefe with holy rev'rence did I look ; With you I prais'd, or blam'd, fo help me G — d ! The fam'd Longinus all the World rriuft know : The gape of wonder Ariftarcus drew, As well as Alexander's tutor, lo ! " . All! all great critics, gentlemen, likG jyou. Did any afk me, " Pray, Sir, your opinion '* Of thofe Reviewers, who fo bold beftride " The world of learning, and with proud dominion, '* High on the backs of crouching authors ride?" Quick [ 5 ] Quick have I anfwer'd, in a rage, '* Odfblood ! ' ' No works like theirs fuch criticifm convey ; " Not all the timber of Dodona's wood *' E'er pour'd more Herling oracle than they.^^ Did others cry, " Whate'er their brains indite, ** Be fure is excellent a partial crew ! *' With 16 Paeans uflier'd to the light, *' And prais'd to folly in the next Review :" This was my anfwer to each fnarling elf, (My eyeballs fiU'd v/ith fire, my mouth with foam) " Zounds ! is not juftice due to one's dear felf ? " And fhould not charity begin at home ?" Full often I've been queflion'd with a fneer- (( " Think you one could not bribe 'em?" " Not a nation.' A beef-fteak, with a pot or two of beer, " Might fave a little volume from damnation." C Furious [ 6 ] Furious rveanfwer'd, *' Lo ! my Lord Carlifle *' Hath begg'd, in vain, a feat in Fame's old temple; " Though you applaud, their wifdoms will not fmile; " And what thty difapprove is curfed fimple. " Could gold fucceed, enough the peer might raife, " Whofe wealth would buy the critics o'er and o'er: " 'Tis merit only can command their praife, " Witnefs the volumes of Mifs Hannah More*. " The Scai'ch for Happi?tefsy that beauteous fong, " Which all of us would give our ears to own ; " The Captive^ Percy^ that like muftard ftrong, " Make our eyes weep, and underftandings groan -f." Hail Briftol town ! Boeotia now no more. Since Garrick's Sappho lings, though rather flowly. All hail Mifs Hannah ! worth at leaft a fcore. Ay, twenty fcore, of Chatterton and Rowley. * A Lndy talked of for her poetical produftioas, and emphatically called by a certahi clafs of readers, the tenth Mufe. -j- A pair of tragedies. Men [ 7 ] Men of prodigious parts are moftly fliy ; Great Newton's felf this failing did inherit ; Thus, frequent^ you avoid the pubUc eye, And hide, in lurking holes, a world of merit, t Yet oft your cautious modeflies I fee, When from your bow'r with bats you wing the dark : And Sundays, when no catchpoles prowl for prey, On aether dining in St. James's Park. Meek Sirs ! in frays you choofe not to appear, A circumftance moft natural to fuppofe, And therefore hide your precious heads, for fear Some angry bard, abus'd, fliould pull your nofc. The world's loud plaudit, lo ! you don't defire, Nor do you haftily on books decide ; . ' ■ But firft at ev'ry cofFee-houfe enquire, How, in its favour, runs the public tide. ' 4. There [ 8 ] There, Wifdom, often with a critic's wig, The flice demure, knit brows, and forehead fcowling, I've feen o'er pamphlets, with importance big, Moufing for faults, or, if you'll have it, owling. Herculean Gentlemen ! I dread your drubs ; Pity the lifted whites of both my eyes ! Strung with new ftrength beneath your mafly clubs, Alas ! I fliall not an Antaeus rife. Lo, like an elephant along the ground. Great Caliban, the giant Johnfon ftretcht ! The Britifli Rofcius too your clubs confound, Whofe fame the fartheft of the ftars hath reach'd. If fuch fo eafy iink beneath your might, Ye Gods ! I may be done for in a trice : Hurl'd by your rage to everlafting night Crack'd with that eafe a beggar cracks his lice. If, [ 9 ] If, awful Sirs, you grant me my petition ; With brother pamphlets fTiall my pamphlet fhine ; And fhould it chance to pafs a firft edition. In capitals fliall flare your praife divine. Quote from my work as much as e'er you pleafe For extracts, lo ! I'll put no angry face on; . Nor fill a hungry lawyer's fifl with fees. To trounce a Bookfeller like furious Mafon *. Sage Sirs ! if favour in your fight I find, If fame you grant, I'll blefs each gen'rous giver : Wifh you found coats, good ftomachs, maflers kind -f-, Gallons of broth, and oounds of bullock's liver. * The conteil between Mr. Mafon r.U'.] a Bookfeller is generally known t The Bookfellcrs. D Thi [ 10 ] The follov/mp; Addrefs to the E.E VI EWERS was written for a poetical Friend, in 1778, who had fuffered by their Severity : jm^ lis hard, Meflicurs Reviewers, 'pon my foul, You til LIS fliould lord it o'er the world of wit ; No higher court your fentence to controul, You hang, or you reprive, as you think fit ! Whether, in calf, your labours of the year Rank with immortal bards, or boxes line ; Or . torn for fecret fervices, oh dear ! Are offer'd up at Cloacina's fhrine : Whether you look all rofy round the gills. Or hatchet-fac'd like flarving cats fo lean ; Whether your criticifm each pocket fills With halfpence, keeping you clofe fhav'd and clean : 4 Whether [ ^^ J whether in gorgeous raiment you appear, Or tatters ready from your backs to lail ; Whether with pompous wigs to guard each ear, Or whether you've no wigs or ears at all : Whether you look like gentlemen or thieves, I hate ufurpers of the critic throne ; Therefore his compliments the poet gives, And humbly hopes you'll let his lines alone : Stay till he afks your thoughts, ye forward fages ; Officioufnefs the modeft bard abjures : 'Tis furely pert to meddle with his pages, Who never deign'd to look in one of yours. THE END, A LIST OF PETER PINDAR'S WORKS, Any of which may be had of G. KEARSLEY, No. 46, Fleet Street, *'*^'Wi'ffti>*"* ' 2. LYRIC ODES to the Royal Academicians, for 1782 5. 1783 4. — 1785 5. FAREWELL ODES 6. The LOUSIAD, Canto I. — 1786 /• — — Canto II. — — — — I- '' •'• I. A Supplicating EPISTLE to the REVIEWERS, — o i f.- o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o 2 I 2 3 2 8. Congratulatory EPISTLE to JAMES BOSWELL — 9. BOZZY and PIOZZI, a TOWN ECLOGUE — — 0. ODE upon ODE, or a PEEP at St. JAMES's — — 1. An APOLOGETIC POSTCRIPT to ODE upon ODE o 2 2. INSTRUCTIONS to a certain POET LAUREAT — 3. BROTHER PETER to BROTHER TOM — — 4. PETER'S PENSION, a folemn EPISTLE — — 5. PETER'S PROPHECY — — • — 6. SIR J. BANKS and the EMPEROR of MOROCCO 7. EPISTLE to a FALLING MINISTER — — 8. SUBJECTS for PAINTERS 9. EXl'OSTULATORY ODES — — 7 6 o 6 6 o 6 6 o o o o 6 o o o 6 6 6 6 o *,»*" Complete Sets may nov/ be had, including a Mezzotinto Engraving of the Author by one of the moll eminent Avtifl:'^. N, B. The complete Set, without the Portrait of the Author, is Ipunous. lb EXPOSTULATORY ODES TO A GREAT DUKE, AND A LITTLE LORD. By peter PINDAR, Esqjjire. Torrens diceiidi copia multis, Et fua mortifera eft facundia ! Juvenal. Full many a Wight hath fuffer'd for a Song, And curs'd his volubility of Tongue. That Peter, may not thus have Caufe to fay Wth Juvenal, poor Fellow, let us pray ! NEW EDITION. LONDON: Printed for G. KEARSLEY, at Johnson's Head, No. 46, Fleet Street. M.DCC.LXXXIX. Price TWO SHILLINGS and SIX PENCE. ENTERED AT STATIONERS' HALL. EPISTLE DEDICATORY. MY LORDS, 1 OUR UNCOMMON ATTENTION to my late Publications demands a Return of Gratitude. Permit me to prefent to your Lord- jftiips the following Lyric Trifles, which, if pofl^efied of Merit fufficient to preferve them from Oblivion, will inform Pofterity that you. exifted. I am, my Lords, 8cc, &c, &c. ' PETER PINDAIL. EXPOSTULATORY ODES. ^se^» ODE L r JVloST noble Peers, there goes an odd report. That you, prime fav'rites of an honejl court, Are hunting treafon 'midft my publications • Hunting, like bloodhounds, with the keeneft nofcs^ Which hound-like hunting nat'rally fuppofes The bard dares fatirize the King of Nations, Ye fharp ftate moufers, with your watering jawsy God keep me from the vengeance of your claws 5 An Afiatic fight may be renew'd ; ' ■ ' ' What feathers flying, what a field of bloodj B Twixt t ^ ] 'Twixt falcon Burke and Sheridan, fo brave, And heron Haftings, fuch a dainty diih, So wont to cram on Afiatic fifh, The largeft, fatteft of the eaftern wave \ Yes, yes, I hear that you have watch'd my note, And wifh'd to fqueeze my tuneful throat ; When Thurlow your defigns moft wifely fcouted. Swearing the poet fhould not yet be knouted. Thus when grimalkin in its cage efpies A linnet or canary bird, fo fweet ; The fcoundrel lifts, fo fanclified, his eyes, Contrivino; how the warbler's back to greet ? He fquints, and licks his lips, ftalks round, and round:3> Twinkling with mifchief fraught his tyger tail ; Now on his rump he fits, in thought profound,^ Looks up with hungry wifhes to affail ^ When fudden enters raafter with a roar. And kicks the fdieming murderer to doorr ODE [ 7 1 ODE It JK IGHT honcft watchdogs of the ftate, I like to fmile at Kings, but treafon hate MoPl hufy Jenkinfon, Bute's once bell friend, A praifc that ftamps a character divine ! Believe not ihus the Poet can offend ; Ye gods ! can Peter pour th* unloyal line ? I Peter, perpetrate fo foul a thing f I offer mifchief to fo good a King ! Now be it known to all the realms around, I would not lofe my Hege for twenty pound ! Mild Ofborne, fofter than the down of goofe, I beg you will not let fufpicion loofe If fo — of hiftory FU turn compiler Divulge feme tame amours with Miftrwrs C-yl-r So [ 8 ] So tame, indeed, Co fmgularly (lupid, As gave a blufh to little pimping Cupid I O Heav'ns ! can Jenkinfon and Oil)orne longj Foes to the mufe, to cut out Peter's tongue ? Arm'd with the Jove-like thunders of the crown, To knock with thofe dread bolts a fimple Poet down ? Lo ! into life againft my will I tumbled, And, fays my nurfe, I made a horrid clatter ; Kick'd, fprawl'd, and fputter'd, gap'd, and cried, and • grumbled, Quite angry, feemingly, with Mother Nature ; Who, queen-like^ thinking all fhe does is right, Againft my wifhes lugg'd me into light ; And what is harder, and worfe manners ftill, She'll kick me out of it againft my will. Yet iince on this world's theatre Tm thrown, Which with my temper now begins to fuit ; And (ince its drama pleafes, I muft own I fliould be forry to remain a mute ; Inclin'dt [ 9 ] Incliii'd to f!iy, like Beckford*, undeterr'd, *' By G — I'll fpcak, and d-mme I'll be heard." My Lords, I fain would live a little longer, For lo ! defire, as to a bofom wife, Undoubtedly the greateft blifs of life, Hath taken deeper root and ftronger. Would HE v/ho made the world look down, and fay^ ** Peter, wilt live on earth a thoufand years ?" *' Lord, Lord," I fhould delighted roar away, " Ten thoufand, if to thee it meet appears/' *^ So long ! what for ?" the Deity might cry, " O great Divinity," quoth I, * The Iloufc of Commons frequently refounded with thofe em- phatic expreflions of the late angry patriotic alderman, when gentlemen, by Icraping, hemming, coughing, and groaning, (to adopt thephrafeo- logy of my old friend Dr. Johnfon) meant to oppugn the impetuofity of pecuniary arrogance, and annihilate the ebullition of pertinaccous loquacity. C "A thoufand [ ^o ] " A tlioufand reafons j principally one, *' To ke the prcfent Prince of Wales, *' Whom many an afpic tongue aflails, *' Aloft on Britain's envied throne. ^' Where half the monarchs that have flit before *' Have only fat to eat, and drink, and fnore ; *' To damn the credit of the age, *' And load with folly hift'ry's blufliing page»'' And, Jenkinfon, flioiild thy hard face behold A George the Fourth upon the throne, Adieu at once thy age of gold ! Behold thy hopes of higher honours gone I Then get thyfelf an Earldom quick, quick, quick,, For fear ot Fortune's wild vagaries j Thus fhall thy daughters all, like mufhrooms thick, Rife Lady Joans and Madges, Nells and Marys. ODE [ M ] ODE iir. I OWN I love the Prince — his virtues charm I know the youth receiv'd from heav'n a heart : In friendfliip's caufc I know his bofom warm, That maketh certain folk with wonder ftart. 'Tis true that from my foul the man I hate, Immers'd in mammon, and by mis'ry got ; Who, to complete his dinner, licks his plate. And v/ifhes to have ev'ry thing for nought : Who if he gam'd, the dice v/ould meanly cog; Rob the blind beggar's fcrip, and flarve his dog — And that there are fuch wretches near a throne, Degraded nature tells it with a groan. Perdition catch the money-grafping \vretch, With hook-like fingers ever on the flretch ; . V Who Who fighlng, vents on Chancy a ciirfc, That alks for want a penny from his purfe : The heart that lodges in that mifer's breaft, For money feels the hunger of the fliark ; Refembling, too, the nifty iron chefl: That holds his idol — clofe, and hard, and dark. Give me the youth who dares at times unbend, And fcorning Moderation's prude-like flare. Can to her teeth, and to the world, declare, Ebriety a merit with a friend, Vvhen friend iTiip draws the corks, and bids the dome With mirth and fallies of the foul refound : When frienddiip bids the bowl o'erflowing foam, Till morning eyes the board with plenty crown'd , Behold the virtues that fublimely foar, Inftead of meanly damning, cry "Encore." ODE [ ^3 1 ODE IV. With you, my Lords, I'm ev'ry thing that's evil ; There's fcarce a crime I've not committed ; The very efTence of the devil ; Deferving by the daemon to be fpitted ; Juft like a turkey, goofe, or duck, Prepar'd by Joan the cook to go to fire ; So wanton have you both been pleas'd to pluck The fvvan that imitates his Theban fire. Of ev'ry quality am I bereft, Not ev'n the fiiadow of a virtue left ; Not one fmall moral feather in my wings, When dead, to lift me to the King of Kings. My Lords, beware — by mouthing oft my name Unwifely, you may damn me into fame : D By [ 14 ] By letting thus your fpleen on Peter loofe, He builds triumphal arches on abufe ! In vain the bard turns oculift, and tries To purge the film from this world's darken'd eyes : In vain to Printers and to Printer's devils I fly, and advertife to cure King's Evils : With huge contempt you look on me, alack ! My nojiriiiiis curfe, and call the Bard a quack. In general, authors are fuch coward things, They fear to fpeak their fentiments of Kings, Till thofe fame Kings are dead, and then the crowd, Juft like a pack of hounds, hiflorian, bard, With throats of thunder run his mem'ry hard, And try to tear him piecemeal from his fliroud. Now, if we wifh a Monarch to reclaim. In God's name let us fpeak before he's dead. Or elfe 'tis ten to one we mifs our aim, By ftaying till the Fates have cut his thread : 6 After [ ^5 ] After this operation of their knife, I ne'er knew reformation in my life. And yet, what is the greateft King when dead, When duft and worms his eyes and ears o'erfpread. And low he lies beneath the ftone ? The man who millions call'd his own, Howe'er his fpedre may be willing, Cannot give change t'ye for a fhilling ! ODE [- ».6 ] ODE V. A OUR taunting voices now, my Lords, I hear, And thus they grate the poet's loyal ear : '' Bard, we are both fuperior to thy lays " Deaf to thy cenfure, and defpife thy praife. " Know that our Monarch lifts his head fublime, " Beyond the reach of groveling rhyme, " An Atlas hiding midft the thickeft clouds ; " Whilft thou, a beetle, doom'd to buz below, *' In circles, envious rambling to and fro, " Survey'ft the fhining mift his head that flirouds. " Thy rhymes, infulting Kings with pigmy pride, '^ Are like the fea's mad waves that make a pother, ** Wild rufhing on fome promontory's fide, " One noify blockhead following another. i( The C ^7 3 " The ftately promontory feems to fajr, " Afplring fools, go back again, go home : *' At once the lliouldcr'd bullies dafli'd away, " Sink from his flately fide in fruitlefs foam.' Thou, with rabfcallions like thyfelf, A poor opiniated elf. Letting on Kings thy pen licentious loofe. Art like an impudent lane goofe, Who, as the trav'ler calmly trots along, Starts from amongll his flock, an ill-bred throng, Waddling with pok'd-out neck, and voice fo coarfe, As if to fwallow up the man and horfe : - With rumpled feathers to the fteed he fteals, And, like a coward, fnaps him by the heels ; Then to his gang with out-ftretch'd pinions hobbling, The fool ered: returns Te Deum gobbling. And from each brother's greeting gullet draws The mingled triumph of a coarfe applaufe, E "As [ iS j •' As If the trotting enemies were beaten, *' And man an 1 palfry kill'd and eaten. " Poor rogue, thou haft not got the trifling fpirit " To own thy King e'er did one ad: of merit." My Lords, with great fubmillion to your fenfe, Giving the lie, yet hoping no offence ; An ad: is his my heart with rapture hails- George gave the world the Prince of Wales ; A Prince, who when he fills Old England's thronCj The virtues and fair fcience fhall furround it ; And when he quits the fceptre, all (hall own He left it as unfidlkd as he found it. ODE [ 19 ] ODE Vf. I^fREAT was the Bard's dcfire to fmg the Queen,-, Vaft ill her foul, majeftic in her mien ; But fierce George Hardinge * fwore if pens or pen Of woman, women, man, or men. In any wife or fliape, in ode or tale,. Dar'd mention that fuperior Lady, lo I The law fhould deal them/uch a blow ! Hang, piU'ry, or confine for life in jail I And as a kite, on whom the fmall birds flare, That tow'ring critic of the air, Is oft befet by tribes of rooks and crows, Amidfl the cryflal fields of heav'n ; ' , By whofe hard beaks and wings, no common foes, Sad knocks to gentle kite are giv'n ; * Sollicltor to the Queen. 3 Surrounded i 20 3 Surrounded thus anildfc that lofty hall, Nam'd Wcllminfter, the gentle bard Might of the fable legions tafte the gall : He therefore wifely means to play his card : The Poet's quidlihet aude?idi waves. And thus his hide an old companion faves. Ah, me ! the legiflators of ParnafTus, In liberty, though Engliflimen, furpafs us 1 What's found at Hippocrene, the Poet's Spa, Is not at Weflmiiifter found law I Parnaffus never with rare Genius wars ; But aiding, lifts liis head to ftrike the ftars : At Weftminfter how diff'rent is his fate ? Where if he foars fublime, and boldly fings, The {heers of law, like Fate's, fliall fnip his wings, And bid him warble through an iron grate. Perchaunce [ 2^ ] Perchaunce law neckcloths, form'd of deal or oak, Like marriage, often an unpleafant yoke, Shall rudely hug his harmlefs throat, And ftop his Apollinian note ; The empire of fair poetry o'erturning, And putting every mufe in mourning,. F © D E j> - 1 C " 1 \ ODE VII. Y OU tfll me both, with grievous malice carping^ On one dulLtune eternally I'm harping You would have {liid to Milton juft the fame ; Wlio throuc?:h tv/clve books the head of Satan iiiaurd— Such names the prince of darknefs call'd, As muft have made you roar out fhame. You would (or greatly I miftakc) have faid, '' What! Milton, always plaguing the poor Devil, *' For ever beating Nick about the head ; ** How canft thou be fo dev'lifhly uncivil ? " Was not one book fufficient for thy fpleen, " But muft thou to a mummy beat him, *' And, like a pickpocket, fo barb'rous treat him *' Through books a dozen or fourteen?" Suppofc • [ ^5 ] Siippofe thcfc things you could have mutter'd. And glorious Milton, like a ninny, ' Had anfwer'd, " There is fenfe and reafon in yc — " Thank ye, kind Gentlemen, for all you've utter'd ,• *' The hint you offer not amifs is; - " ril tear my Paradife to pieces." ^ . Suppofe I afk you what had been the evil ? Believe me, fomething to the world's fad cofl • By fuch civility to fpare the Devil, My Lords, a fecond Iliad had been loft. Thus from poor Peter take the great away; Of fun you rob him of cart-loads What would his cuftomers all do and lay ? P'rhaps, curfe you for the lofs of Odes. . . - You'll t 24 J You'll fav, " Let fiitire meaner fiibjedis look." Well, Jenky *, grant my fatire flies ^Xyou^ Who'd buy my melancholy vulgar book ? Adieu fair fame, and fortune's fmiles adieu ! But if we daring trim a royal jacket, Lord ! what a buying, reading, what a racket I How fpruce the metamorphos'd bard appears ! W^ith what a confidence he pricks his ears ! Who juft before, in piteous chop-fall'n plight, Look'd of the woeful face. La Mancha's Knight I Who runs to fee a monkey in a trap ? But let the noble lion grace the gin,. Lo ! the whole world is out to fee him fnap. To hear him growl, and triumph o'er his grin ! * Here feemeth to be a contracil6llon ; but when the reader Is iii- tornied that Jenky cannot without mockery be ranked amongft the WREAT, the myllery flands explauied, 3 Cut [ 25 ] Cut off the head of a great Lord, Not wifer than the head of a great goofe, Tow'r Hill at once with gapers will be ftor'd, As if the world was all broke loofe ; But when a little villain haps to fwing, What a poor folitary firing ! How few by curiofity are fetch'd To fee the rope of juflice ftretch'dt '- Scarce any but the hangman and the priefl To do their duty at the culprit's fide, "With hemp and prayrs his neck and foul afTifl, And wifli the lonely trav'ler a good ride. ODE [ ^6 ] ODE VIF. Hark l hark ! I hear you courtier pair exclaim, " This Peter is the mofl audacious dog ; " The fellow hath no rev'rence for a name "A King to him is fcarce above a log." ' Sometimes helow^ a log, Sirs, if you pleafe ; A bold affertion, to be prov'd with eafe. But, goodly Gentlemen, I do defire ye, T 'avoid in this affair minute enquiry Concerning their refpedlive merit j I fear lefs prudence will be k.^'i^ than fpirit ; Logs univerfally are ufeful things ; h pojlulatum not allow 'd to Kings. " For us, on Honour's pinnacle," you cry, *' Whofe heads are nearly level with the Iky, * A few foreign Monarchs Juftify the Poet*s alTertioii ■ 4 '' -"^S " High [ ^>7 ] I *' High bafl;ing in the blaze of regal powV j " This Peter, feldom from rank pride exempt, *' Calls us, with fcovvling eyes of fix'd contempt> " A pair of jackdaws perch'd upon a tow'r. ** Archbifhops, bifhops, fervants of the Lord, , . " Head fervants, too, who preach the purefl: word, " With waving hands enforcing goodly matter, *' No more by him, the fcorner, are accounted *' Than fweepers on their chimneys mounted, *' That wield their brufh, and to the vulgar chatter." True, my dear Lords — for merit only warm, Rank and fine trappings long have ceas'd to charm- And yet, their eyes the fiupid million blefs, For barely getting fights of rank and drefs I When Judges a campaigning go. And on their benches look fo big, What gives them confecjuencc, I trow. Is nothing but a bufhel wig ; . Yet [ ^8 ] Yet bumpkins, gaping with a bullock ftare, See learning lodg'd in cv\y hair. But heads, not hair, my admiration draw ; Not wigs, but wifdom, ftrikes mj foul with awe. A-v ODE [ 29 J O D E LX. 1 HE man who printeth his poetic fits, Into the Public's mouth his head commits ; Too oft a lion's mouth, of danger full, Or flaming mouth of Phalaris's bull ; He pours the fad repentant groan in vain, The cruel world but giggles at his pain. For lo ! our world, fo favage in its nature, Would rather fee a fellow under water. Or, from the attic flory of a houfe Fall down foufe Upon a fet of curfed iron fpikes ; Than fee him with the blooming lafs he likes, Bleft on a yielding bed of down or rofes. Where Love's fond couples often join their nofes. H Upon [ 30 ] Upon me what a hoft I've got ! Who by their black abufes boil their pot. Ay, that's the reafon — wide-mouth'd hunger calls, - " And from the hollows of each ftomach bawls ! Thus the poor filk-worms, born to blefs mankind, Whilft for the fhiv'ring world the robe they fpin. In ev'ry ring a thoufand infedls £nd. Gnawing voracioufly their harmlefs ikin. And thus the lambs, whofe ufeful fleeces treat With coats and blankets people of all flations. By preying maggots are befet, Harb'ring whole ftinking nations ; Which from their backs the crows fo kindly pick, Enough to make a Chriftian flck. Oh, would fome critic crow but eat the pack Now neftling in my lyric back. That daily in their hofts increafe. And try to fpoil the fineft fleece. Why [ 31 3 why am I pcrfecuted for my rhymes, That kindly try to cobble Kings and times ? To mine, Charles Churchill's rage was downright rancour. He was a firft-rate man of war to me^ Thund'ring amidfl: a high tempeftuous fea ; I'm a fmall cockboat bobbing at an anchor ; Playing with patereroes that alarm. Yet fcorn to do a bit of harm. My fatire's blunt — his boafted a keen edge- A fugar hammer mine — but his a blackfmith's fledge ! And then that Junius ! — what a fcalping fellow ; Who dar'd fuch treafon and fedition bellow ! Compar'd to them, whofe pleafure 'twas to (lab, Lord !' I'm a melting medlar to a crab ! My humour of a very diff'rent fort is Their fatire's horrid hair cloth, mine is filk I am a pretty nipperkin of milk ; They two enormous jugs oi aqua fortis, Compar'd Compar'd to their high floods of foaming fatire, My rhyme's a rill — a thread of murmuring water ; A whirlwind they, that oaks like ftubble heaves — I, zephyr whifp'ring, fporting through the leaves. And fuch all candid people mufl conclude it The world fhould fay of Peter Pindar's ftrain, " In him the courtly Horace lives again " Circum frce-cordia Petrus ludit." Which eafy fcrap of Latin thus I render No man by Peter's verfe is harfhly bitten ; Like lambkins bleats the bard fo fweet and tender, And playful as the fportive kitten. So chafte hhs, fwtiles^ fo foft his ftile, That ev'n his bitt'reft enemies fhould fmile ; He biddeth not his verfe in thunder roar His lines perpetual fummer — funfhine weather He tickles only — how can he do more, Whofe only inftrument's a feather ? 6 ODE [ 33 ] ODE X. J-jIKE children, clinrni'd with Praife's fuo-ar'd fonp-. How much the Great admire the cringing throng; And how mofl lovi?7g/y the men they hate, Who to the flubbornnefs of confcience born, Tenacious of the rights of nature, fcorn To hold the cenfer to the nofe of State ! Too many a weak-brain'd man, and iilly dame. Are made ridiculous by fulfome fame ; Rais'd on high pedeftals in rich attire, For half the globe to laugh at, not admire. You bid the bard in panegyric fliine ; With courtly adulation load the line: Sirs, adulation is a fatal thing — Rank poifon for a fubjed, or a King. I Mj [ 34 I My Lords, I do declare that it requires A brain well fortiiied to bear great flatt'ries ;: Such very dangerous mafk'd batt'ries, That keep-on great men's brains fuch ceafelefs fires !- I hope that God will give fuch great men grace To know the gen'ral weaknefs of the place. Pray do not fancy what I utter flrange The love of flatt'ry is the foul's rank mange,. Which, though it gives fuch tickling joys, Inftead of doing fervice, it deftroys : Juft as the mange to lapdogs' fkins apply'd, Though pleafing, fpoils the beauty of the hide;. A fonnet now and then to pleafe the fair, With flattVy fpic'd a little, does no harm- That talks of flames, perfedions, hope, defpair,. And hyperbolically paints each charm. 4. P'rhnps [ 35 3 P'rhaps to a fault at times, my mufe's art, By admiration fwell'd, hath foar'd too high ; But Cynthia knew the lover's partial art, And chid her poet for the tuneful lie. Perhaps too loud the bard hath ftruck the lyre ; And when th' enthufiaft, with a lover's fire, More bright than angels, gave the nymph to glow ;. By Truth's delightful di<£lates folely fway'd. Ought of his fav'^rite Cynthia to have faid, " She triumphs only o'er the world below/'' O D E [ 36 ] ODE XL A'iY Lords, I won't confent to be a bug, To batten in the royal rug, And on the backs of Monarchs meanly crawl, And more, my Lords, I hope I never fLall. Yet certain vermin I can mention, love it, You know the miferables that can prove it. I cannot, Papift^like, (a dupe to Kings) Create divinities from wooden things. Somewhere in Afia — I forget the place — Ceylon I think it is Yes, yes, I'm right ; There Kings are deem'd of heav'nly race, And blafphemy it is their pow'r to flight. Like [ 37 3 Like crouching fpanicis down black Lords mufl: lie, Whene'er admitted to the Royal eye, ' And fay, whene'er the mighty Monarch chats To thofe black Lords about their wives and brats, That happen in the world to tumble ; *' Dread Sire, your Have and bitch my wife, " Hath brought to blefs your dog fo humble, " One, two, three, four, five puppies into life ; '■'- " All fubjedt to your godlike will and pow'r, " To hang or drown in half an hour." ■-'■.'■■ This is too fervile, I muft dare confefs — 'Twixt man and man the diff'rence fliould be lefs. I own I brought two wcnd'ring eyes to town, . / . Got bent by mobs my ribs like any hoop, ; ". To fee the mighty man who wore a crown — .. , ,' / To fee the man to whom great courtiers ftoop. K Much [ 38 ] Much had I read, which certes fome time fince is, My bible fo replete with Kings and Princes, And thought Kings taller than my parifh lleeple ; I thought too, which was natural enough, Jove made their fkins of very diff 'rent fluff From that which clothes the bones of common people. But mark ! by flaring, gaping ev'ry day, The edge of admiration wore away, Like razors' edges rubb'd againft a ftone ; Kings ceas'd to be fuch objedls of devotion, I faw the Beings foon without emotion, And thought like mine their bodies flefh and bone. Like many thoufands, I was weak enough To think Jove kept a foul and body fhop — Like mercers had variety of fluff, For fuch whofe turn it was to be made up ; And [ 39 ] And that he treated with great liberaHty Folks born to figure in the line of quaHty ; Giving fouls fuperfine, and bones and bloods. In iliort, the choiceft of ccEleftial goods : But on the lower claffes when employ'd, It ftruck me, that he work'd with much fa?ig froid, Not caring one brafs farthing for the chaps ; Forming them juft as girls themfelves amufe In making workbags, pincufTiions, and flioes Videlicet — from fcraps. Now can't I give a thimblefull of praife, E'en to an Emp'ror, if uncrown'd by merit ; A ftarving principle, 'faith, now a-days, And unconnedled with the courtier's fpirit You, Sirs, I think, can give it with a ladle, And rock of grinning idiotifm the cradle. ODE [ 40 ] ODE XIL OO much abus'd, I lofe my lyric merit- Evaporated half its ipirit ; Rediic'd from alcohol to phlegm : From folid pudding to whipp'd cream I There was a time when not one bit afraid Of ought the people roar'd, or fung, or faid ; I careleflly my fav'rite trade purfued ; Invok'd Apollo, and the Mufcs woo'd : And with the ftoicifm that fooths a ftone, I fat me down and pick'd my mutton bone. Thus when amidft the tumbling: world of waves The cloud -wrapp'd Genius of the tempeft raves, And midft the hurrying mafs of fpecler'd gloom, FATE mounted on the wild wing of the blaft. Shouts defolation through the twilight wafte. And, thund'ring, threats a fyftem's doom ; 6 Lo [ 41 ] Lo ! with light wing a gull the billows fweeps, Sports on the ftorm, and mocks the bellowing deeps ; Now on the mountain furgc composed he fquats, Adjufts his feathers, and looks round for fprats. I now may fay with righteous David, " Lord, " With foes I'm fore encompafled about ;" And rhyme like Sternhold, once for verfe ador'd, *' I wote not when I ihall get out ; " So craftily the heathen me affail, " My canticle doth not a whit avail." Lo! almoft ev'ry one at Peter's head Levels his blunderbufs, and takes a pop Bounce on my dear os fro?itis falls the lead, But harmlefs yet, thank God, I've feen it drop : Yet by and by fome lucklefs fhot May knock about the brains of tuneful Peter ■ Thoufands will fmile to fee him go to pot, And mock him in his grave with fhamelefs metre : L Not [ 43 ] Not fo our gracious King and Queen, I know it- rlicy'vc pity, if not pence to giv^e a poet. T^l. Piitient as Job, when -Satan, ail To vile, Betting his fkin againfc the Lord's, Adding a mofc contemptuous fmile, As well as moft indecent words, Cover'd the man of UZ with boils, At which with horror ev'ry heart recoils : Yes, patient as the man of UZ am I, Though forc'd on envy's burning coals to fry. Seek I the court ? — Lords, Lordlings fly the place The ladies, too, fo full of loyal grace, Turn their gay backs when there I fhow my head ; As happen'd at St. James's t'other day, When up the flairs 1 took my folemn way, And fiU'd the fine-drefs'd gentlefolks with dread. Off [ 43 ] CfF Brudcnell flew, and wiih his ftar fo blazing ; Off flew the frighten'd Sir John Dick, fo fl:out, Who won his blazing fl:ar by means amazing ■ By manufadturing four crout, Off^ flew with this great crout-compoflng Dick, Thomfon and Salifb'ry, Harcourt, and Gold-flick y Such was the terror at the man of rhymes, As though he enter'd to divulge their crimes. Thus on a bank upon a fummer's day, Of fome fair flream of Eaft or Weftern Ind, When puppies join in wanton play, Free from the flighteft fear of being fkinn'd j If from that flream, which all fo placid flows, A fly old alligator pokes his nofe ; 3 P'rhaps [ 44 3 P'rhaps with a vvi£h to tafte a flice of cur ; At once the dogs are off upon the fpur ; Nor once behind them caft a courtly look. To compliment the monarch of the brook. ODE [ 45 ] ODE XIII. UeSERTED in my utmoft need by fate, Like fani'd Darius, great and good ; Fall'n, fall'n, poor fellow, from a large eftate ; Forc'd, forc'd to broufe, like goats, the lanes for food ! Alas ! deferted quite by ev'ry friend ; And what than friendfhip can be fweeter ? Lo ! not a foul will kind afliftance lend ; Lo ! ev'ry puppy lifts his leg at Peter ! Like fome lone infulated rock am I, Where miJft th' Atlantic vaft, old JEol raves ; Shook by the thunders of each angry fky, And roll'd on by the ruOiing world of waves I So hard, indeed, the critic tempeft blows, I fcarce can point againft the gale my nofe- M A florm [ 46 ] A ftorm more violent was never feen ! So dread the vv^ar ! — indeed it muft be dread, When from his ihop John Nichols pops his head. And pours the thunders of his Magazine. For heavier artill'ry ne'er was play'd : And yet, not all th'artill'ry is his own ; Hayley, a clofe ally, in ambufcade Behind, affifts the war of furious John. John Nichols, with Will. Hayley for his Squire, Are ferious things, howe'er the world may laugh And therefore dread I much to face the fire Of this intrepid Hudibras and Ralph. You too, my Lords, combin'd with thofe dread foes To tear the bard to pieces for his rhymes, Is very cruel, Heav'n well knows. And does no fort of credit to the times. 3 Yet [ 47 '1 Yet let me feel myfelf — I'm not yet dead, Though maul'd fo terribly about the head ; By Printer's Devils and allies furrounded : P'rhaps, like the PrufTian Monarch, I may rife Herculean, to the world's furprize. And fee my enemies confounded. Full many a cock hath won ten pound. Though feeming dead, flretch'd out amidft the pit- Leap'd up, and givn his foe a fatal wound Then why not mine, ye Gods, the lucky hit? ODE C 43 J ODE XIV. W ITH your good leave, my Lords, I'll now take mine, Kot djem'd, perchauncc^ a poet quite divine Pcrchaunce with beafls at Epliefus I've warr'd. Like that prodigious orator St. Paul, And for my ftanzas, p'jhaps both great and fmill, You kindly wiili me feather 'd well, and tarr'd. You think I loathe the name of King, no doubt Indeed, my Lords, you never were more out : I am not of that envious clafs of elves ; Though Dame M'Auley turns on Kings her tail ; With great refpeSi the facred names I hail, That is, of Monarchs who reJpeSi themfelves. But fliould they adl with mcannefs, or like fools. The mufe fhall place a fool's cap on their flvulls. Stubborn [ 49 ] Stubborn as many a King, indeed, I am That is, as ftubborn as a halter'd ram : A change in Peter's life you muft not hope : To try to wafli an afs's face. Is really labour to mifplace; And really lofs of time, as well as fope. N ODE i so ] ODE XV. RAY let me laugli my; Lords, I miift, I will- My Lords, mj laughing mufcles can't lie ftill : Unpolifli'd in the fupple fchools of France, I cannot burft to pleafure complaifance. Care to our coffin adds a nail, no doubt ; And ev'ry grin, fo merry, draws one out : I own I like to laugh, and hate to ligh. And think that rifibility was giv'n For human happinefs, by gracious heav'n, And that we came not into life to cry : To wear long faces, juft as if our Maker, The God of goodnefs, was an undertaker, Well pleas'd to wrap the foul's unlucky mien In forrow's difmal crape or bombalin. Methinks [ 51 1 Methinks I hear the Lord of Nature fay, " Fools, how you plague me ! go, be wife, be gay ; *' No tortures, penances, your God requires *' Enjoy, be lively, innocent, adore, " And know that Heav'n hath not one angel more *' In confequence of groaning nuns and friars. " Heav'n never took a pleafure or a pride " In ftarving ftomachs, or a horfewhipp'd hide. " Mirth be your motto — merry be your heart ; " Good laughs are pleafant innoffenfive things ; " And if their follies happen to divert, " I fliall not quarrel at a joke on Kings." ODE [ 52 ] ODE XVI. If Monarchs (the fuggeftion, p'rhaps, of liars) Turn houfebreakers, and rob the nuns and friars ; Steal pidures, crucifixes, heav'nly chattels. To purchafe fwords and guns and fouls for battles : In fpite of all the world may fay and think, If Empreffes will punk-like kifs and drink : If Kings will fell the hares and boars they kill, And fnipe and partridge blood for mammon fpill, Denying thus themfelves a dainty difh, And go themfelves to market with their fi£h : Pleas'd with the vulgar herd to join their name, If Kings, ambitious of a blackfmith's fame, Not wondroufly ambitious in their views, Inftead of mending empires, make horfe fhoes : 6 Dead [ 53 ] Dead to fair fciencc, if to vagrant hogs, To toymen, conjurors, and dancing dogs, Great Princes, pleas'd, a patronage extend ; VVliilft modcft genius pines without a friend : DifmiiTing grandeur as an idle thing, If on bob wigs, flouch'd hats, and thread-bare coats, Upon vulgarity a Monarch doats, More plcas'd to look a coachman than a King : If with their bullocks Kings delight to battle ; On hard horfe chefnuts make them dine and fup, Refolv'd to riarve the nice-mouth'd cattle Until they eat the chefnuts up ; Poor fellows, from the nuts who turn away. And think it dev'lifh hard they can't have hay : If Kings will mount old houfes upon rollers, Converting fober manfions into ftrollers, Heraclitus's gravity cant bear it I mufl laugh out, and all the world muft hear it. O ODE f A ODE XVII. J UST one word more, my Lords, before we part- Do not vow vengeance on the tuneful art ; 'Tis very dang'rous to attack a poet Alfo ridiculous — the end would fliow it. Though not to write — to 7-ead I hear you're able :— Read, then, and learn inftru6tion from a fable. The P I G and MAGPIE, A FABLE. COCKING his tail, a fancy prig, A Magpie hopp'd upon a Pig, To pull fome hair, forfooth, to line his nefl ; And with fuch eafe began the hair attack, As thinking the fee iimple of the back Was by hinifelf, and not the Pig, pcffcft, 4 The [ 55 ] The Boar iook'd up as thunder black to Mag, Wlio, fquinting down on him like an arch wag, Inform'd Mynheer fome briftles mull be torn ; Then bufy went to work, not nicely culling ; Got a good handfome beakfull by good pulling, And flew without a *' Thank ye" to his thorn. The Pig fet up a difmal yelling ; FoUow'd the robber to his dwelling, Who, like a fool, had built it midfi: a bramble : In manfully he fallied, full of might, Dctermln'd to obtain his right» And midfi: the bu flies now began to fcramble. He drove the Magpie, tore his neft to rags, And, happy on the downfall, pour'd his brags : But [ 56 ] But ere he from the brambles came, alack I His ears and eyes were miferablj torn, Flis bleeding hide in fuch a plight forlorn, He could not count ten hairs upon his back. This is a pretty tale, my Lords, and pat : To folks like you, fo clever, verbiwi fat. THE END, ODE UPON ODE; O R, A PEEP AT ST. JAMES'S; O R, N E W- Y E A R'S DAY; O R, WHAT YOU WILL. By P E T E R P I N D A R, Efq. ^0 me cunque rapit 1'cmpeftas, defer or Hpfpes. hor AC E. Juft as the Maggot bites, I take my Way — To Painters now my Court refpeftful pay ; Now (ever welcome !) on the Mufe's Wings^ Drop in at Windfor, on the Eeft of Kings ; Now, at St. James's, about Handel prate, Hear Odes, fee Lx)rds and Squires, and fmile at State. EIGHTH EDITION. LONDON: Printed for G. KEARSLEY, at Johnson's Head, No. 46, Fleet Street. M.DCC.LXXXIX, ENXERED AT STATIONERS' HALL. ADVERTISEMENT. READER, I THINK it necefTary to inform thee, if thou haft not read Mr. Warton's Ode that I mean not to fay that he hath, TOT idem VERBIS, fung what I have alTerted of him ; I therefore beg that my Ode may be conlidered as an Amplification of the ingenious Laureates Idea. P R O E M I U M. J\.NOW, Reader, that the Laureat's poft fubUme Is deftln'd to record, in handfome rhyme. The deeds of BritifK Monarchs, twice a year : If great — how happy is the tuneful tongue ! li pitiful — (as Shakefpeare fays) the fong ** Muft fuckle fools, and chronicle fmall beer.** But Bards muft take tlie uphill with the down\ Kings cannot always Oracles be hatching : Maggots are oft the tenants of a crown Therefore, like thofe in cheefe, not worth the catching. B O gentle [ 6 ] O gentle Reader ! if, by God's good grace, Or (what's more fought) good intereft at Court, Thou get'ft, of Lyric Trumpeter, the place, And hundreds are, like gudgeons, gaping for't ; Hear ! (at a palace if thou mean'ft to thrive) And of a fteady coachman learn to drive. Whene'er employ 'd to celebrate a King, Let Fancy lend thy Mufe her loftieft wing Stun with thy minftrelfy th' affrighted fphere ; Bid thy voice thunder like a hundred batteries ; For common founds, conveying common flatteries. Are zephyrs whifp'ring to the Royal ear* Know — glutton-like, on praife each Monarch crams : Hot fpices fuit alone their pamper'd nature : Alas ! the flomach, parch'd by burning drams. With mad-dog terror ftarts at Ample water. Fierce C 7 ] Fierce is each royal mania for applaufe ; And, as a Iiorfe-pond wide, are Monarch maws — Form'd therefore on a pretty ample fcale : To found the decent panegyric note, To pour the iJiodefi flatt'ries down their throat, Were offering flirimps for dinner to a whale* And mind, whene'er thou ftrik'ft the lyre to Kings, To touch to Abigails of Courts, the firings ; Give the Queen's Toad-eater a handfome fop. And fwear fhe always has more grace Than ev'n to fell the meanej} place — Swear too, the woman keeps no Title-{hop ; Sells not, like Jews in Paul's Church-yard their ware, Who on each paffenger for cuftom ftare ; And, in the happy tones of traffick, cry, ** Sher ! vat you biiy^ Sher ? — Madam ! vat you buy f Thus, [ 8 J Thus, Reader, ends the Prologue to my Ode I The true-bred Courtiers wonder whilfl I preach — And, with grave vizards, and flretch'd eyes to God,, Pronounce my Sermon a moft impious fpeech : With all my fpirit let them damn my lays — >- A Courtier's curfes are exalted praife. I H E A R a ftartled MoraUft exclaim, ** Fie, Peter, Peter! Fie for fliame ! " Such counfel difagrees with my digeftion." Well! well! then, my Old Socrates, to pleafe thee, For much I'm willing of thy qualms to eafe thee, I'll nobly take the other fide the queftion. Par [ 9 ] Par Exejnph : FAIR Praife is fterling gold — all fliould delire it Flatt'ry, bafe coin — a cheat upon the nation y And yet, our vanity doth much admire it, And really gives it all its circulation. FLATT'RY's a fly inflnuating fcrew— The World — a bottle of Tokay fo fine — The engine always can its cork fubdue, And make an eafy conqueft of the wine. FLATT'RY's an ivy wriggling round an oak — This oak is often honeft blunt John Bull — Which ivy would its great fupporter choak, Whilft John (fo thick the walls of his dark fcull Deems it a pretty ornament, and ftruts — Till Mafter Ivy creeps into John's guts; And gives poor thoughtlefs John a fet of gripes : Then, like an organ, opening all his pipes, John roars ; and, when to a confumption drain'd, Finds out the knave his folly entertain'd, C PRAISE [ JO ] PRAISE is a modeft, unaffuming maid, As fimply as a Quaker beauty dreft : No oftentation hers — no vain parade : Sweet Nymph I and of few words pofleft ; Yet, heard with rev'rence when fhe filence break And dignifies the man of whom fhe fpeaks. Flatt'ry^s a pert French Milliner — a jade CoverM with rouge y and flauntingly array 'd—^ Makes faucy love to ev'ry man flic meets. And offers ev'n her favours in the ftreets. And yet, inftead of heeding public hiffes . Divines fo grave — Philofophers can bear her ; What's flranger ftili, with childifli rapture hear her- Nay, court the fmiling harlot's very kijfes. ODE. ODE. JLVICH as Dutch carg-oes from the fragrant Eaft. Or cufhard-pudding at a city feaft, Tom's incenfe greets his Sovereign's hungry nofe : For, bating Birth-day torrents from ParnaiTus, And New-year's fpring-tide of divine molaffes. Fame in a fcanty rill to Windfor flows ! Poets (quoth tuneful Tom) in ancient times, Delighted all the country with their rhymes ; Sung Knights and barbed fteeds with valour big : Knights who encounter'd witches — murder'd wizards, Flogg'd Pagans, till they grumbled in their gizzards : Rogues ! with no more religion than a pig : — 6 Knights [ 12 ] Knights who illumin'd poor dark fouls. Through pretty little well-form'd eyelet holes, By pious pikes and godly lances made Tools ! that work'd wonders in the holy trade ; With battle-axes fit to knock down bulls, And therefore qualified (I wot) full well^ With force the facred Oracles to tell Unto the thickeft unbelieving fcuUs : * Knights, who, fo famous at the game of Tourney, Took boldly to the Holy Land a journey. To plant, wdth fwords, in hearts, the Gofpel feeds ; Tuft as we hole for cucumbers, hot-beds, Or pierce the bofom of the fuUen earth, To give to radiflies or onions birth : Knights, who, when tumbled on the hoftile field, And to an enemy oblig'd to yield, Could neither leg, nor arm, nor neck, nor nob, fl:ir : Poor devils ! who, like alligators hack'd, At length by hammers, hatchets, fledges, crack'd, Were drasg'd from coats of armour- — like a lobfler. Great [ '3 ] Great (fays the Laureat) were the Poet's puffings On idle daring red-crofs raggamuffins, Who, for their childifnnefs, deferv'd a birch : Quoth Tom, A worthier fubjecl now, thank God ! Infpires the lofty Dealer in the Ode, Than blockheads battling for old Mother Church. Times (quoth our courtly Bard) are alter'd quite The Poet fcorns what charm'd of yore the light Goths, Vandals, caftles, horfes, mares : The polifh'd Poet of the prefent day, Doth in his tafty fhop difplay, Ah ! vaftly prettier-colour 'd wares. The Poet " moulds his harp to manners mild, Quoth Tom to Ivlonarchs, who, with rapture wild. Hear their own praife with mouths of gaping wonder,. And catch each crotchet of the Birth-day thunder : Crotchets that fcorn the praife of common folly Though not moft mufical — mofi: melajicholy. Ah ! crotchets doom'd to charm our ears no more. Although by Mr. Parsons fet in fcore. Drear and eternal filence doom'd to keep. Where the dark waters of oblivion fleep — To fpeak in humbler EngliOi — doom'd to reft, With Court addrefles, in a mufty cheft^ D Yet . C H ] Yet all the Lady Amateurs declar'd, They were the charmwg'J} things they ever heard : As for example — all the angels Gideons That is, my Lady, and her daughters fair, With coal-black eyebrows, and fweet Hebrew air — The lovely produce of the tv/o religions : Thus, in their virtues, fox hounds beft fuccecd. When fportfmen very wifely crofs the breed : And thus with nobler luftre fhines the fowl Begot between a game-hen and an owl. Sir Sampfon too declar'd, with voice divine, " Dat Jhince he haf turn Chreejlian^ and eat hog, " He nehber did hear jnoopjtc half ^jo fine ; '* No! nebber Jhince he lefs de Shinnygogue.'''' His Grace of Queenfb'ry too, with eyes though dim. And one deaf ear, was there in wonder drown'd ! Lift'ning, in attitude of Corp'ral Trim, He rais'd his thin grey curl to catch the found : Then fwore the airs would never meet their matches, But in his own immortal glees and catches *. * Though not a Purcell, his Grace Is admitted, by many of his mu- fical guefls, to be a very pretty catchmaker. Yet [ 15 J Yet were thofe crotchets all condemn'd to reft In the dark bofom of a mufty cheft ! Crotchets that form'd into To fweet an air, As charm'd my Lady Mayorefs and Lord Mayor ; Who thought (and really they were true believers) The muiic eqiiall'd marrowbones and cleavers. Strains I that the Reverend Cifliops had no qualms In faying, that they equall'd David's Pfalms ; But not furpafs'd in melody the bell That mournful foundeth an Archbifliop's knell ; Strains ! that Sir Jofeph Mawbey deem'd divine, Sweet as the quavers of his fatteft fwine. E'en great * Lord Brudenell's felf admir'd the ftrain, In all the tuneful agonies of pain ; Who, winking, beats with duck-like nods the time, And call'd the mufic and the words fublime. Yes, this moft lofty. Peer admir'd the Ode; A Peer who, too, delights in Opera-dancing ; Thus fagely both thofe ufeful arts advancing, And nobly fpreading Britain's fame abroad. * A prodigious ^mnUur — without his Lordfliip there can be no rehearfal. I So [ ^6 ] So much by dancing is his Lordfhip won, Behind the Op'ra fcenes he conflant goes, To kifs the little finger of Coulon *, To mark her knees, and many- twinkling toes. Too, all the other Lords, with whifpers fwarming, Cried bravo ! bravo ! charming ! bravo ! charming ! And Majefty itfelf, to muiic bred, Pronounc'd it " Very, very good, indeed !" Indulging, p'rhaps, the very nat'ral dream, That all its charms were owing to the theme. Not but fome fmall degree of harmlefs pleafure Might in the brace of R-y-1 bofoms rife, To think they heard it without wafte of treafure ; As fixpences are lovely in their eyes. For, not long fince, I heard a forward dame Thus, in a tone of impudence, exclaim *' Good God ! how Kings and Queens a fong adore ! ** With what delight they order an encore ! * A firil dancer at the Opera. <« When [ ^7 ] *■' When that fame fong, encored, for nothing flows! '' This Madam Mara to her forrow knows." •' To Windfor, oft, and eke to Kew, " The R — y — 1 mandate Mara drew. " No cheering drop the Dame Was aik'd to fip — '* No bread was offer'd to her quiv'ring lip : *' Though faint, fhe was not fuffer'd to fit down, — " Such was th^ goodnefs — grandeur o£ the Cr — n! " Now tell me, will it ever be believ'd, ' How much for fono; and chaife-hire fhe receiv'd ? " How much prajj think ye?" — Fifty guineas — *' No." Moft furely Forty.—" No, no."— Thirty.— " Poh ! " Pray, guefs in reafon, — come, again." — Alas ! you jeer us — Twenty at the leaft ; No man could ever be fo great a b ft As not to give her twenty for her pain. — *' To keep you, then, no longer in fufpencc, " For Mara's chaife-hire and unrivall'd note, " Out of their woW^r/w/ benevolence, *• Their bounteous M ies gave — not a groat." E " Aye !" [ i8 ] Aye !" crv'd a fecond lland'rer, with a fneer, I know a ftory like it You fliall hear Poor Mrs. Siddons, p^e was order 'd out — - To wait upon their M-j— ies, to f pout To read old Shakefpeare's As you like it to 'em; And how to mind their flops, and commas, fliew 'em : She read was told 'twas very, very fine. Excepting here and there a line, " To which the Royal wifdom did objed: And which in all the pride of" emendation, And partly to improve her reputation, " His M-j — y thought proper to correct ; '' Then turning to the Partner of his Bed, " On tiptoe mounted by felf-approbation, ' * A very modeft elevation ! *' He cried " Mind, Charly, that\ the way to read." *' The Adrefs reading, fpouting out of breath, " Stood all the time was nearly tir'd to death ; " Whilft both their M-j— -ies, in Royal ftyle, " At perfed eafe ^tx^ fitting all the while. '* Not [ ^9 ] ** Not offer'd to her was one drop of beer, *' Nor wine, nor chocolate, her heart to cheer : *' Ready to drop to earth, flie muft have funk, " But for a child, that at the hardfhip fhrunk ** A little Prince, who mark'd her Situation, *' Thus, pitying, pour'd a tender exclamation : *' La! Mrs. Siddons is quite faint indeed, " How pale! I'm fure flie cannot longer read: ** She fomewhat wants, her fpirits to repair, " And would, I'm fure, be happy in a chair.'''' " What follow'd Why, the R-y-1 pair arofe " Surly enough one fairly may fuppofe ! " And to a room adjoining made retreat, *' To let her, for one minute, Jleal a feat." *' At length the actrefs ceas'd to read and fpout " Where generofity's a crying lin : *' Her curt'fy dropp'd was nodded to came out *< So rich 1" How rich ? " As rich as fhe we?'it /?/." Such [ ^o ] Sucli are the ftories twain ! Why, grant the fad, Are Princes, pray, like common folks X.o aft? Should Mara call it cruelty^ and blame Such R-y-1 condud:, I'd cry, Fie upon her ! To Mrs. SiDDONs freely fay the fame Sufficient {ox fuch people is the honour / E'en I, the Bard, exped no gifts from Kings, Although I've faid of them fuch handfome things Nay, not their eye's attention, whofe bright ray Would, like the Sun, illumine my poor lay, And, like the Sun, fo kind to procreation, Increafe within my brain the maggot nation. So much for idle tales. Now, Muse, thy ftrain Digreffive, turn to Drawing-Rooms again. There too was Pitt, who fcrap'd and bow'd to ground ; And whifper'd Majefty, 'twas vaftly fine ; Then wifh'd fuch harmony could once be found Where he.y each day, was treated like a fwine By that arch-fiend Charles Fox, and his vile party Villains ! in nought but black rebellion hearty ; I Fellows ! [ 21 ] Fellows ! who had the impudence to place Th.Q facred fceptre underneath the f?iacey And twifted ropes, with malice difappointed, To hamper or to hang the Lord's Anointed. To whom a certain Sage fo earneft cry'd, " Don't mind don't mind the rogues their aim have mifs'd " Don't fear your place, whilft I am well fupply'd " But mind, mind poverty of Civil Lift. " Swear that no K ^'s fo poor upon the globe ; " Compare me yes, compare me to poor Job. " What, what, Pitt — haj ? We muft have t'other grant- " What, what ? You know, Pitt, that rny old dead Aunt " Left not a fixpence, Pitt, thefe eyes to blefs, " But from the pariHi fav'd that fool at Hejfe. F ^* But t -^ ] " But mind me— lise, to plague her heart when dying, " I was a conftant hunter — Nimrod ftill ; " And when in ftate as dead's a mack'rel lying, " I car'd not, for I knew the Woman's Will. ' * And three days after /lie was dead, " Which fome folks thought prodigioufly profane, " I took it — yes — I took it in my head, " To order Sir yohn Brute at Drury Lane j — " Had fhe refpeded 7ne^ I do aver, *' I fhou'd have ftay'd at home, and thought o{ herT " And mind — keep George as poor as a church moufe- *' Vote not a halfpenny for Carleton Houfe " This may appear like wonderful barbarity " But mind, Pitt, mind — he gains in popularity. " I fee him o'er his Father try to rife " And mount an eagle to the fkies " But poverty will check his daring flight- '* Bciides, ihould George receive a grant ** He gets the golden orbs I want " Then Civil-Lifi: deliciences, p-ood nidit ! <( And [ 23 ] " And hae ! that wicked * fon-in-law of Brown, " Lofing all fort of rev'rence for a Crown, " Hath fent me a bill fo dread " What's very ftrange too, Pitt, I'll tell ye more ' ' The rafcal came into my houfe, and fwore " 'Twas a juft bill, and that he mujl be paid ; " Yes, that he wou'd, he fwore — (how faucy 1 Pitt) " Or fend a lawyer to me with a wr/V. " Down fent I Ramus to him o'er and o'er, " To fay that Brown had ^<2/«' no foul's but Handel's airs. To whom he thinks our great compofers, cats : Idejl, Sacchini, Haydn, Bach, and Gluck, And twenty more, who never had the luck To pleafe the nicer ears o^ fojne crown d folk ; Ears that, like other people's though they grow. Poor creatures ! really want the fenfe to know Pfalm tunes fo mournful from the old Black Joke. That mufly mufic-hunter too — Muf. D. Much-travcl'd Burney, came to hear and fee ; He, in his tour, who found fuch great protedlors Kings, Queens, Dukes, Margraves, Margravines, Ele6lors, Who E 39 1 Who afk'd the Doftor many a gracious quefllon, And treated him with marvelous hofpitality ; GiiejQing he had as clever a digeflion For meat and drink, as mufic of rare quaHty— Not with much glee the Dodlor heard the Ode, But turn'd his difappointed eyes to God ; And wifli'd it his own fctting, with a figh ; For, ere to Salifbury's houfe the Dodlor came To get, as Ode-setter, enroll'd his name Behold ! behold the iiaeddwg was gone by. Ah ! how unlucky that the prize was loft 1 Parfons, who, daring, dafh'd through thick and thin Eclipfe the fecond ! — got like lightning />?, When Burney juft had reach'd the dijla?ice poft . Yet, gentle Mufe, let candour this allow, That, though his heart was mortified enow, The Doftor did his rival's art admire. And own'd his maiden crotchets full of fire- Crotchets ! though fweet — alas ! condemn'd to lie Like Royal virtues, hid from mortal eye ! Crotchets, [ 40 ] Crotchets that fongful Mr. Parfons ties To Tom's big phrafe, to make fublimer cries ; Thrice happy union to entrance the foul ! How Hke the notes of cats, a vocal pair, By boys (to catch their wild and mingled air) Tied tail to tail, and thrown acrofs a pole ! But where was great Sir Watkyn all this time ? AVhy heard he not the air and lofty rhyme ? The fleek Welfli Deity, who mufiic knows The Alexander of the Tot'n'am * troops, Who, tutor'd by his flampings, nods, grunts, whoops, Do wondrous execution with their bows ? Sir Watkyn, deep in difmal dudgeon gone, Far in his Cambrian villa f fat alone ; To Mrs. Walfingham J he fcrubb'd his bafe, Whilft anger fwell'd the volume of his face, * Sir Watkyn is a Member of the Ancient Miific Concert in Totten- harci Street, and much attended to, both for his art and fcience. •f Wynneftay. + The quarrel between the Kn'ight and the Lady was a wonderful one — Tanta^ne animis ccekjlibtis ir^e ? Flaming, [ 41 ] Flaming, like funs of London in a fog ; Of Mrs. Walfingham he fung with ire ; His eyes as red as ferret's eyes, with fire ; His mighty foul for vengeance all agog. Achilles thus, affronted to the beard, His fledge-like fill o'er Agamemnon rear'd, And down his throat wou'd fain his words have ramm'd; Who, after oaths (a pretty decent voUy,) And rating the long Monarch for his folly, Inform'd the King of Men he might be d-mn'd ; Then to his tent majeftic flrode, to ftrum. And fcrape his anger out on tweedle-dum. Yet Mrs. Walfingham the ode attended From Squire Apollo lineally defcended - A dame who dances, paints, and plays, and fings ; The Saint Cecilia, Queen of wind and firings ! Though fcarcely bigger than a cat a dame Midft the Bas Bleus^ a giant as to fame. L When' { 4^- ] * When fiddle, hautboy, clarinet, baflbon. On Sunday (deem'd by us good Chriftians, odd^) Unite their clang, and pour their merry tune In jiggiili gratitude to God ; Lo ! if a witlefs Member fhould defire, . Inftead of Handel, ftrains perchance of Haydn, A fierce Semi rami s fhe flames with fire This Amazonian, crotchet-loving maiden ! She looks at him with fuch a pair of eyes ! — — Reader, by w^ay ofy7w//j-digreffion. Which to my fubjed: happily applies Didft ever fee Grimalkin in a pafTion, Lifting her back, and ears, and tail, and hair * Giving her two expreflive goglers, (Not in the fweet and tender ftile of oglers) A fierce, broad, wild, fix'd, furious, threat'ning ftare ? If fo -thou may'ft fome faint idea have Of this great Lady at her tuneful club - Who very often hath been heard to rave. And with much eloquence the Members fnub. Some ' ■ , I 43 ] Some people by their fouls will fwear, That if Miiiicians mifs but half a bar, Juft like an Irifliman flie ftarts to bother And, in the violence of quaver madnefs, Where nought fhould reign but harmony and gladiiefs, She knocks one tuneful head againft another ; Then fcreams in fuch chromatic tones Upon Apollo's poor affrighted fons, Whofe trembling tongues, when her's begins to found, Are, in the din vociferating, drown'd ! Thus when the Oxford bell, baptiz'd Great T'om^ Shakes all the city with his iron tongue, The little tinklers might as well be dumb As afk attention to their puny fong, So much the Lilliputians are o'ercome By the deep thunder of the Mighty Tom. Handel, as fam'd for manners as a pig, Enrag'd, upon a time pulTd oft his wig, And flung it plump in poor Cuzzoni's face, Becaufe the little Syren mifs'd a grace : Muficlans [ 44 J Muficians, therefore, fliould beware ; Or in the face of fome unlucky chap, Although fhe cannot fling a load of hair, She probably may dart her cap. Oft when a youth to fome fvveet blufhing maid Hath flily whifper'd amatory things, And, more by paffion than by mufic fway'd, Eroke on the tuneful dialogue of firings ; Rous'd like a tygrefs from a fav'rite feaft, Up hath the valiant Gentlewoman fprung, With lightning look, and thundring tongue, Ready with out-ftretch'd neck to eat the beaft That boldly dard, fo blafphemoufly rafli,' Mix with the air divine his love-flck trafli. Reader, attend her flie will fo enrich ve With muflc knowledges of every kind, From that poor nothing-monger, old Quilici, To Handel's loftv and capacious mind : 4 - Run [ 45 ] Run wild divifions on the various merit O^ this and thai compofcr's fpirit— — On Gluck's fublimitics be all fo chatt)r- Talk o^ th.Q ferio-comic of Piccini, Compare the elegance of fweet Sacchini, And iron melodies of old Scarlatti ! But not one word on Britifli worth, I ween Their very mention gives the Dame the fpleen : T'were e'en difgrace to tell their mawkifli names : Mere cart-horfes poor uninventive fools, Who neither mufic make, nor know its rules Whofe works fhould only come to light m fames. To depths of mufic doth this Dame pretend, Nought can her fcience well tranfcend, If you the Lady's own opinion afk ; And when Ihe talks of mufical enditers, She fliows a vaji acquaintance with all writers, And takes them critically all to tafk . M Dear [ 46 ] Dear Gentlewoman ! who, fo great, fo chafte, So foreign in her tweedle-dummijh tafte, Faints at the name of that enchanting fellow, The melting Amorofo^ Pailiello I With notes on Tarchi, Sarti, will overwhelm ye ; Giordani, fweeter than the Hybla honey ; Anfofli, Cimerofa, Bach, Bertoni, Rauzzini, Abel, Pleyel, Guglielmi ! Can tell you, that th' Italian fchool is airy, ExpreiHve, elegant, light as a fairy ; The German, heavy, deep, fcholaftic ; The French, moft miferably whining, moaning, Oft like poor devils in the cholic groaning, Noify and fcreaming, hideous, Hudibraftic. The female vi{itors around her gaze. With wond'ring eyes, and mouths of wide amaze, To hear her pompoufly demand the key Of ev'ry piece muficians play. 6 Aftonifh'd [ 47 ] Aflonifli'd fee this Petticoat-Apollo, With jftamping foot, and beck'ning hands And head, time-nodding, iffue high commands, Beating the Tot'n'am-road Director * hollow. Yes they behold amaz'd, this tuneful whale, And catch each crotchet of her rich difcourfe, Utter*d with claflic elegance and force. On Diatonic and Chromatic Icale : Then ftare to fee the Lady wifely pore On fcientific zig-zag fcore. Reader, at this great Lady's Sunday meeting, Midft tuning inftruments, each other greeting, Screaming as if they had not met for years. So joyous, and fo great their clatter ! fay, Didft ever fee this Lady ftriking A Upon her harplichord, with bending ears ? With open mouth, and ftare profound, Attention nail'd, and head awry, Watching each atom of the tuneful cry. Till Alamire unifon goes round ? * Joah Bate, Efquire. Didft [ 48 ] Didft ever fee her hands outftretchM like wings, Towards the Band, though led by Craxcer, Wide fwimming for pianos on the ftrlngs Now fudden rais'd, like Mr. Chriftie's hammer, To bid the forte * roar in fudden thunder, And-fiU the gaping multitude with wonder ? Thou never didft ? then, friend, without a hum, I envy thee a happinefs to come ! *' He molds his harp,'* quoth Tom, ** to manners mild ;'* To Kings, for babe-like manners Jimple ftyl'd. And grac'd with virtues that would fill a tun ; To him the Poet humbly makes a leg, Who, goofe like, brooding o'er the fav'rite egg Of Genius, gives the Phoenix to the fun. To him, who for fuch eggs is always watching. And never more delighted than when hatching ; * Motions eftablllhed by the Cognofcenti for fhowing the light and fliadow of Mufic. Which [ 49 ] Which makes the number ofFer'd to the fun, Sovaft! — why, verily as thick as peas, That people may colled, with equal eafe, A thoufand noble inftances, as one. What numbers, Wifdom to his care hath giv'n 1 All hatch'd — fome livins; — others o;one to Heav'n : Thus in the pinnick's* neft the cuckow lays, Then, eafy as a Frenchman, takes her flight : Due homage to the eggs the pinnick pays, And brings the little lubbers into light. The modern poet fings, quoth Tom again, Of M chs, who, with ceconomic fury, Force all the tuneful world to Tot'n'am Lane, And lock up all the doors of harmlefs Druryf . * A bird fo called In fome counties, that attends the wife bird, and feeds him. •j- The Oratorios were to liave been performed at Drury Lane, this year, under the conduct of Mr. Linley and Dr. Arnold. — Madame Mara was to have exhibited her annazing powers. This would have been a death-fbroke to the pigmy performance in Tottenham- court Road. How fhould the pigmy be faved ? By killing the Giant . — .iiid lo ! his death-warrant hath been figned. — By wliat power of the conlVi- tution ? None !— Can tlic Qrand Monarque Ao n-\Qxt}. Sluicqiiid dolravt Re^es, p!e£iuntur Achhi. , N Sav [ 50 ] Say, why this curfe on Drury's harmlefs door, That thus, in anger, M y fhould lock it ? Miife, are the Tot'n'am-ftreet fubfcribers poor ? Will Drury keep fome pence from Tot'n'am's pocket ? Doth threat'ning bankruptcy extend a gloom O'er the proud walls of Tot'n'am's regal room ? Perchance 'tis Mara's fong that givTs offence! Hinc nice Lacrymce ! 1 fear : The fong that once could charm the R 1 fenfe, Delights, alas ! no more the Royal ear. Gods ! can a guinea deaden ev'ry note, And make the nightingale's a raven's throat ? But let me give his M y a hint, Fre{h from my brain's prolific mint Suppofe we Amateurs fhould, in a fury, Juft take it in our John-Bull heads to fiy (And lo ! 'tis very probable v^Otmay) " We will h.2iVQ Oratorios at Drury ?" » How [^5^ 1 How muft he look ? Blank wonderfully blank ; And think fuch fpeech an infiilt on his rank : What could he do ? oppofe with ire fo hot ? I think his M j had better ?wt ! * Pity a King fliould with his fubjefts fquabble About an Oratorio or a play : It puts him on a footing with the rabble, And that's tinkingly^ let me fay. Suppofe he comes off conqueror !— alas ! For fuch a vid:ory he ought to Jtgh But, Lord ! fuppofe it fo lliould come to pafs, That Majefty comes off with a black eye ? Whether he lofe or win the day. The world will chrillen it 2l paltry fray,. * Indeed His M— — y hath prudently taken the liint. — Drurv, in fpite of the Royal frown, hath h.-\d her Oratorios performed, to the no fmall mortification of poor deferted ToTrENIIA^T. Kino;s [ 5^ ] Kings (liould be never in die wrong^ — — They never are^ fome vvifcacres declare. Poh ! fiich a fpeech may do Tor birth- day fong j But makes us philofophit people y?^^^: / I know a certain owner of a C n, Not quite a hundred miles from V/indfor town, Who harbour'd of his neighbour horrid notions • A widow gentlewoman who, he faid, Popp'd from her vyindow ev'ry day her head Impertinent, to watch his Royal motions. * Yet let us give an iiiftance of wrong proceedings. — A certain K— ~ and Q^; , inftead of having concerts at their palace, in the Ayle ot other Princes, Inch as the King of France, the Emperor, the Emprefs ofRuffia, &c , have entered into a private fubfcription for a concert in a pitiful ftreet. — They pay their fix guineas a-piece; and, what is more extraordinary, get in their children, as we are told, gratis I What is Aill more extraordinary, they have entered into a hon^ iov borrozvijig two thoufand pounds for putting the lioufe into a decent repair ; fit for the reception of the K of the fitft empire upon earth. Of whom has this money been borrowed ? — Marvelling reader ! of the poor mu- ficians' fund !— which money might have been placed out to a much fu- perior advantage. Let me add, that the fublcribers order a formal re- hearfal previous to every concert ; fo that, in fact, they get a double concert for their money ; — undoubtedly to thevafl fatisfaclion ofthe fin- gers of the happy Cramer, Borghi, Shield, Cervetto, &c., who, in this inftance, earn their money not very unlike the patient and labo- rious animal called a drayhorfe. I " <* What? [ 53 ] " What? what?" quoth M y, " I'll teach her eyes *' To take my motions by furprife " One cannot breakfaft, dine, drink tea, nor flip, ** But, whip ! the woman's head at once is out, " To fee and hear what wc are all about: ** I'll cure her of that trick and block her up." Mad as his military Grace * For fortifying ev'ry place, From dockyards to a neceffary houfe The M ch dreamt of nothing but the wall The faucy fpy in petticoats to maul, And make her eagle pride crawl like a loufe. Now workmen came, with formidable ftones. To block up the poor widow Jones Who mark'd this dread blockade, and, with a frown And to the caufe of freedom true One of the old hen's chicks fo blue, Faft as the K — built tip^ the dame pull'd dow?t. * Duke of Richmond. O 'Twas [ 54 ] 'Twas up — 'twas down — 'twas up again — 'twas down- Much did the country with the battle ring, Between the valiant Widow and the K — , That admiration rais'd in Windfor town : The mighty batt'ling Broughtons and the Slacks, Ne'er knew more money betted on their backs. Sing, Heav'nly mufe, how ended this affray : Juft as it happens, faith, nine times in ten. When dames fo fpirited engage with men That is th' herioc Widow won the day: The K could not the Woman maul ; But found himfelf moft fhamefully defeated , Then, very wifely, he retreated, And, very prudently, gave up the wall. Now fing, O mufe, the warlike ammunition Us'd by the Dame in her befieg'd condition, 6 That [ 55 ] That on the hoft of vile invaders flew ; Say, did no God nor Goddefs cry out fhamc ! And nobly haften to relieve the Dame From fuch a refolute and hoftile crew ? Yes Neptune, like her guardian angel, kind, Join'd the poor Widow Jones, and ran up flairs ; Then fiercely caught up certain earthen wares, And, pleas'd his fav'rite clement to find. Bid, on their heads, the briny torrents flow, And wafli'd, like fliags, the combatants below. The Goddefs Cloacina too, fo hearty, Rufh'd to the Widow's houfe, and join'd the party : But fay, what ammunition fiU'd her hand, Fame for the Widow to acquire. To bid the enemy retire. And give to public fcorn the daring band ? What \}[i-3X firong ammunition was, the Bard Heard as a fecret therefore muft not tell ; Nor would he for a thoufand pounds reward, To beaux reveal it, or the fweeteft belle. Yet [ 56 ] Yet Nature poiTibly hath made a fnout, Blefl: with fagacity to fmell it out. Reader, don't ftand fo, flaring like a calf ■ Thy gaping attitude provokes my laugh- Thou think'ft that Monarchs never can ad ill : Get thy head {hav'd, poor fool ! or think fo ftill. Whether thou deem'ft my ftory falfe or true, I value not a rufh- Wilt have another ? " No." Nay, prithee do. " I won't." — Thou fhalt, by Heavens ! fo prithee hufh ! But ere I give the tale, my tuneful bride, My Lady Mufe, fhall talk of Kings and Pride. Some Kings on thrones are children on the lap. Children, that all of us fee ev'ry day Brats that kick, fquall, and quarrel with their pap. Tearing, and fwearing they w^ill have their way : And what, too, their great reputation rifles. Kings quarrel, juft like children, about trifles. Moreover— [ 57 ] Moreover — 'tis a terrible afFair For kingly worfliip to be kicked by fellows Who probably feed half their time on air, Mending old kettles or old bellows. My Lady Pride's a very lofty being, Much pleas'd with people's fcraping, bowing, kneeing. Fruitful in egotifms, and full of brags Her Ladyfhip in nought can brook denial j And, as for infult, 'tis a killing trial, And more efpecially from men of rags. For Pride, fuch is her ftatelinefs, alas ! Rather than feel the kickings of an afsj Would calmly put up with a leg of korfe ; Though pelting her with fifty times the force ; Nay, though her brains came out upon the ground, Were brains within her head -piece to be found. P A KING [ 58 ] A KING and a BRICKMAKER*. A TALE. A KING, near Pimlico, with nole and ftate, Did very much a neighbouring brick-kiln hate, Becaufe the kihi did vomit nafty fmoke ; Which fmoke — I can't fliy very nicely bred, Did very often take it in its head To blacken the Great Houfe, and try the K-— to choak. His facred Majefty would, fputt'ring, fay, Upon a windy day, *' I'll make the rafcal and his brick-kiln hop- " P-x take the fmoke — the fulphur 1 — zounds !- " It forces down my throat by pounds " My belly is a downright blackfmith's (hop." One day, — he was fo pefter'd by a cloud- He could not bear it, and thus bawl'd aloud : * A Mr. Scott. " Go, [ 59 ] " Go," roar'd His M y unto a page, Work'd, like a lion, to a dev'lifli rage, " Go, tell the rafcal who the brick-kiln owns, ** That if he dares to burn another brick, *' Black all my houfe like hell, and make me {ick, " I'll tear his kiln to rags, and break his bones." Off Billy Ramus fat, his errand tol.l : On which the Brickmaker — a little bold, Exclaim'd, " He break my bones, good Mafter Page, " He fay my kiln fhan't burn another brick, ** Bccaufe it blacks his houfe and makes him iick ! " Billy, go, give my love to Mafter's rage, " And fay, more bricks I am refolv'd to burn ; *' And if the fmoke his Worfhip's flomach turn, ** Tell him to flop his mouth and fnout *' Nay more, good Page — His M y fliall find " I'll always take th' advantage of the wind, ** And, dam'me, try to fmoke him out,"" This [ 6o ] This was a fliameful mejfTage to a K— From a poor ragged rogue that dealt in mud ^ Yet, though fo impudent a thing. The fellow's rhet'rick could not be withftood. Stiff as ifagainft poor Haftings^ Edmund Burke, This Brickmaker went tooth and nail to work. And form'd a true Vefuvius on the eye : The fmoke in pitchy volumes rolFd along, Rufh'd through the Royal dome with fulphur ftrong„ And, thick afcending, darken'd all the fky. To sive the fmoke a naftier ftink. Indignant Reader, what doft think ? The fellow fcrap d the iilthieft ftuif together. Old v/igs, old hats, old wollen caps, old rugs, Replete with many a colony of bugs, Oli fhoes and boots, and all the tribe of leather. Thus [ 63 ] Thus did the cloud of (link and darknefs fhade The building for the Lord's Anointed made, And blacken'd it like palls that grace a burying : Thus was this man of mud and ftravv employ'd, And at the thought fo wicked, overjoy'd, Of fmoking God's Vicegerent like a herring ; Of ferving him as we do parts of fwine, Thought, with green peafe, a difh extremely fine ;^ But lo ! this baneful rogue of brick Fell, for his Sov'reign, fortunately fick. And, ere the wretch could glut his fpleen and pride^ By turning Monarchs into bacon died. THE modern bard (quoth Tom) fublimely fings Of fharp and prudent oeconomic Kings, Who rams, and ewes, and lambs, and bullocks feed. And pigs of every fort of breed : Q^ Of [ 64 3 Of Kings who pride themfelves on fruitful fows ; Who fell fkiiiim milk, and keep a guard fo flout To drive the gecfe, the thievilh rafcals, out, That cv'tj morning us'd to fuck the Cows * : Of Kings who cabbages -f and carrots plant For fuch as wholefome vegetables want: Who feed, too, poultry for the people's fake,. Then fend it through the villages in carts. To cheer (how wondrous kind !) the hungry hearts Of fuch as only pay for what they take. The poet now, quoth Tom's rare lucubration, Singeth commercial treaties commutation ■ Taxes on paint, pomatum, milk of roles, Olympian dew, gloves, flicking plafter, hats. Quack Medicines for fick Chriftians, and found rats,. And all that charm our eyes, or mouths, or nofes. * Is it poffible for this florj to be true? We would rather give it as^^ apocryphal, t Mr. Wharton lays In his Ode, " JFJjo plant the Civic Bay ;" but he aflurcdly meant cabbages and carrots : — the fadt proves it. The [ 65 ] The modern bard, fays Tom, fublimely flngs Of virtuous, gracious, good, uxorious Kings, "Who love their wives fo conftant from their heart ; Who dov/n at Windfor daily go a fhopping — — Their heads fo lovely into houfes popping, And doing wonders in the hagling art. And why, in God's name, fhould not Queens and Kings Purchafe a comb, or corkfcrew, lace for cloaks, Edging for caps, or tape for apron-ftrings. Or pins, or bobbin, cheap as other folks ? Reader ! to make thine eyes with wonder flare, I tell x\\zQ. farthings claim the Royal care [ Farthings are helplefs children of a guinea r If not well watch 'd they travel to their coft ! For lo ! each copper-vifag'd little ninney Is very apt to flray, and to be loft. Extravagance I never dar'd defend The greateft Kings lliould fave a candle end : Since [ 66 ] Since *tis an axiom fure, the more folks y^z^^, The more, indifputably, they muft have. ■■ Crovvn'd heads, oi faving fhould appear examples ; And Britain really boafls two pretty famples ! The modern poet fings, quoth Tom again. Of fweet excifemen, an obliging train ; Who, like our guardian angels, watch our houfes. And add another civil obligation That addeth greatly to our reputation Hug, in our abfences, our loving fpoufes. Reader ! when tir'd, I'm fond of taking breath : Now, as thou doft admire the true fublime. And, confequently, my immortal rhyme, 'Tis clear thou never canft defire my death. SwanSy in their fongs, moft mufically die ; If that's the cafe then, Reader, fo might /. Let me, then, join thy wifhes flay my rapture, And nurfe my lungs to fing a fecond chapter. I N [ ^5 1 IN CONTINUATION. " VJyRANT me an honeft fame, or grant me none,'* Says Pope, (I don't know where), a little liar ; Who, if he prais'd a man, 'twas in a tone That made his praife like bunches of fweetbriar, Which, while a pleaftng fragrance it beftows. Pops out a pretty prickle on your nofe, Wcr^fome folks to exclaim, who fill a throne, *' Grant me an honeft fame, or grant me none ; " Such Princes were upon the forlorn hope, Soon, very foon, to reputation dead ; Their idle Laureats, faith, might fhut up fhop, And bid their lofty genius go to bed. R . Mufe, [ 66 ] Mufe, this is all well faid ; but, not t' ofFend ye, I beg you will not cultivate digreffion Plead not the poet's quidlibet audendi'. For furely there are limits to th' expreffion : Then ceafe to wanton thus in epifode, And tdl the world of Mr. Warton's Ode. The modern poet, Laureat Thomas, fays, To Botany's grand ifland tunes his lays, Fix'd for the fwains and damfels of St. Giles, Whofe knowledge in the hocus-pocus art Bids them from Britain fomewhat fudden flart, To teach to fouthern climes their miniflerial wiles Improve the wifdom of the commonweal. And teach the fimple natives how to fteal : The picklock fcicnces, fo dark, explain; And to ingenious murder turn each brain. Quoth Tom again — the modern poet fings Of fweet, good-natur'd, inoffeniive Kings ; Who [ 6? J Who, by a miracle, efcap'd with life Efcap'd a damfel's moft tremendous knife ; A knife that had been taught, by toil and art, To pierce the bowels of a pye or tart. Thus, having giv'n a full difplay Of what our Laurcat fays, or meant to fay ; I'll beg of Thomas to inftrudt my ears, Why, in his verfes, he fhould call The knights who grac'd the high-arch'd Hall, A fet of bears * ? Why the bold fteel-clad knights of elder days Are not entitled to a little praife. Who for God's caufe did palace, houle, and hut fell j As well as Monarchs of the prefent date, Whofe dear religion, of which poets prate. Might lodge, without much fqueezing, in a nutfhell ? " What King hath fmall religion?" thou replieft *' If G the Th... thou meaneft — bard, thou Heft." * V'ld, The word Savage^ in the Laureat's Ode for the new year. Hold, [ 68 ] Hold, Thomas — not fo furious — I know things That add not to the piety of I've feen a K. at chapel I declare, Yawn, gape, laugh, in the middle of a pray'r — When inward his fad optics ought to roll, To V'iew the dark condition of his foul ; Catch up an opera-glafs, with curious eye. Forgetting God, fome ftranger's phiz to fpy, As though delirous to obferve, if heav'n Had Chriftian features to the vifao;e giv'n ; DO ' Then turn (for kind communication, keen) And tell fome new-found wonders to the Queen. Thus have thefe eyes beheld a cock fo (lately, (Indeed thefe lyric eyes beheld one lately) Lab'ring upon a dunghill with each knuckle : When after many a peck, and fcratch, and fcrub, This hunter did unkennel a poor grub. On which the fellow did fo ftrut and chuckle ! He [ ^9 1 He peck'd and fquioted peck'd and kenn'd agen, Hallooing luftily to Madatn Hen ; To whom, with airs of triumph, he look'd round, And told what noble treafure he had found. *•'■ Ah ! Peter, Peter," Laureat Thomas cries, " Thou haft no fear of Kings before thy eyes ; " Great little all with thee are equal jokes, " And mighty Monarchs merely common folks. " Ah wicked, wicked, wicked Peter, know " Kf2aw what? " That monarchs are not mtvoly JJjow ^ " Souls they poflefs, and on a glorious fcale :" To this I anfwer, Thomas, with a tale, A Duke of Burgundy (I know not ijchich) Thus on a certain time, addrefs'd a poet: " I'm much afraid of that fame fcribbling itch *' You've wit— — but pray be cautious how you fhow it ; " Say nothing in your rhymes about a King " Ifpraife, 'tis lies if blame, a dangerous thing." S That [ 70 ] That is, the Duke believed the King, uncivil. Might kick the fancy poet to the devil. T. W. Peter, there's odds 'twixt flaring and ftark mad- P. P. Who dares deny it ? So there is, egad ! T. W. Thou think' ft m Prince of common fenfe pofieft— P. P. Thomas, thou art miftaken, I proteft On Staniflaus the mufe could pour her ftrain. Who, dying, funk a Sun upon Lorraine : Toolike the parted Sun, with glory crovt^n'd He fiU'd with blufhes deep th' horifon round. Fred' rick the Great, who died the other day, Had for himfelf, indeed, a deal to fay : We muft not touch upon that King's belie fs Becaufe I fear he feldom faid his pray'rs Nor dare we fay the Hero was no thief, ecaufe he plunder'd ev'ry body's wares. I'm [7^1 Vm. told the Emperor is vaftlywife And hope that Madam Fame hath told no lies : Yet, in his difputations with the Dutch, The Monarch's oratory was not much : Full many a trope from bayonet and drum He threaten'd — but, behold! 'twas all a hum. Wilt are our gracious Q- — \ fuperb relations, The pride and envy of the German nations People of fafhion, worfhip, wealth, and ftate - Lo ! what demand for them, in heav'n, of late ! Lo ! with his knapfack, ev'n jufl: now departed, As fine a foldier, faith, as ever flarted • Whom death did almoft dfead to lay his claws on Old Captain what's his name ? — Saxehilberghaufen * : For whom (with zeal, ^ov folks of ipjorjljip^ burning) We once again are black 'ned up by m.ourning ; To ihow by glove, cloth, ribband, crape, and fan, A peck of trouble for th' old gentleman. * Great Uncle to our mofl: gracious Qj^ He died in the Emperor's fervice. I ' Ah! [ 72 ] Ah me ! what dozens, dozens, dozens, Our Q^ — hath got of Uncles, Aunts, and Coufins ! 4 Egad, if thus thofe folks continue dying, Each Briton, doom'd to difmal black, Muft alway bear a hearfe-like back, Andj like Heraclitus, be always c?'yi7jg. Great is the northern Emprefs I confefs ! Much, in her humour, like our good Queen Befs ; Who keeps her fair court dames from getting drunk * : And all fo temperate herfclf, folks fay, She fcarcely drinks a dozen drams a day ; And, in love matters^ is a Queen o^ fpunk. /•■ Yet like I not fuch woman for a wife — — Such heroines, in a matrimonial ftrife, Might hammer from one's te?ider head hard notes : I own my delicacy is fo great, I cannot in difpute, with rapture, meet Women who look like men in petticoats. * At an Affembly at Peterfburgh, fome years fince, which was Iionoured with the prefence of the Emprefs, one of the rules was, that no lady Ihould come drunk into the Room. Oft [ 73 ] Oft In a learn'd difpute upon a cap, Ey way of anfwer one might have 2,jlap P'rhaps on a iimple petticoat or gown Nay I poilibly on Madam's being hfs'dl And really I would rather be knock 'd down By weight of argument, than weight of fiPc. I like not dames whofe converfation runs On battles, fieges, mortars, and great guns • The milder Beauties win ?ny foften'd foul. Who look for fafliions with deliring eyes : Pleas'd when on tetes the converfations roll, Cork rumps, and merry thoughts, and lovers' fighs. Love ! when I marry, give me not an ox- I hate a woman like a fentry-box ; Nor can I deem that dame a charming creature Whofe hard face holds an oath in ev'ry feature. In woman — ano-el fweetnefs let me fee No galloping horfc-godmothers for me. T I own . [ 74 ] I own I cannot brook fuch manly belles As Mademoifelle d'Eons, and Hannah Snells : Yet men there are, (how ftrange are Love's decrees !) Whofe palates e'en |ack-Gentlewomen pleafe. How diff'rentj Cynthia, from thy form fo fair. That triumphs in a love-infpiring air j Superior beaming ev'n where thoufands fhine Thy form ! where all the tender graces play, And, blufhing, feem in ev'ry fmile to fay, " Behold we boaft an origin divine !" See too the Queen of France a gem I ween ! With rev'rence let me hail that charming Queen, Blifs to her King, and luftre to her race ; Though Venus gave of beauty half her ftore, And all the graces bid a world adore Her fmallefl beauties are the charms oi face, 4 T. W. [ IS 3 T. W. Heav'ns ! why abroad for virtues inufl: you roam ? P. P. Becaufe I cannot find them, Tom, at home. I beg your pardon yes the Prince of Wales (Whofe adlions fmile contempt on Scandal's tales) Ranks in the mufe's favour high I wiih/ome folks y that I could name with eafe, Bleft with his head — his heart — his pow'rs to pleafe- Then Pity's foul would ceafe from many a figh ! The crouching courtiers, that furround a throne, And learn to fpeak. and grin from one alone. Who watch, like dancing dogs, their mailer's nod Are ready now, if horfevvhipp'd from their places, At Carlton Houfe to fliew their fupple faces, And call the Prince they vilify, a God. T. W. Think'ft thou not Csefar doth the arts pofTefs ? P. P. Arts in abundance ! — Yes, Tom — yes, Tom — yes ! T, W, [ 76 ] T. W. Tliink*ft thou not Ccefar would each joy forego. To make his children happy ? P. P. No, Tom — no. T. W. What ! not onz bag, to blefs a child, bcftow ? P. P. Heav'n help thy folly ! no, Tom no, Tom no The fordid fouls that Avarice enllaves, Would gladly grafp their guineas in their ^r^-y^j : Like that old Greek a miferable cur, Who made himfelf his own executor ► A cat is with her kittens much delighted ; Siie licks fo lovingly their mouths and chins : At ev'ry danger, lord ! how pufs is frighted She curls her back, and fvvells her tail, and grins,, Rolls her wild eyes, and claws the backs of curs Who fmcll too curious to her children's furs. This [ 77 ] This happens whilft her cats arcjormg incteed ; But when grown up, alas ! how chang'd their luck ! No more Ihc plays at bo-peep with her breed, Lies down, and, mewing, bids them come and fuck No more ihe fports and pats them, frifks and purs ; Plays with their twinkling tails, and licks their furs y But when they beg her bleffing and embraces, Spits, like a dirty vixen, in their faces. Nay, after making the poor lambkins fly, She watches the dear babes with fquinting eye ; And if fhe fpies them with a bit of meat, Springs on their property, and fteals their treat. No more a tender love (he feems to feel ; The dev'l for her may eat 'em at a meal With all HETR foul J the jade, (o wondrous faving. Cries, " Off! you now are at your own beard-fhaving." U So^ [ 7S ] So to fome K s this evil doth belong ; Th' intelligence is good, I make no doubt ; Who really love their offspring when they're young, But lofe that fond affection when they're flout ; Far off" they fend them nor a fixpence give : — I wonder, Thomas, where fuch M lis live !- Should fuch a M h, Thomas, crofs thy way, And for thy flatt'ry offer butts of fack ; Say plainly that he would difgrace thy lay ; And turning on him thy poetic back, Bid, like a porcupine, thine anger bridle ; Nor damn thy precious foul to wet thy whiftle. CON [ 79 ] CONCLUSION. THINK not, friend Tom, I envy thee thy rhyme, By numbers, I affure thee, deem'd fubUme ; Or that thy Laureates place my fpleen provokes : The King (good man !) and I fliould never quarrel, E'en though his royal wifdom gave the laurel To Mr. Tom-a-Stiles, or John-a-Nokes. Old fafhion'd, as if tutor'd in the ark, I never figh'd for glory's high degrees : This very inftant fhould our Grand Monarque Say, *' Peter, be my Laureat, if you pleafe ; " No, pleafe your Majefty," fliould be my anfwer, With fweeteft diffidence and modeft grace : " The office fuits a more ingenious man. Sir; *' In God's name, therefore, let him have the place " Unlike the poets, 'tis my vaft afflidtion '* To be a mJferable hand 2X fiSimi. " But, Sir, I'll iindfome lyric undertaker, " Acroftic, rebus, or conundrum-maker, *' Who oft hath rode on Pegafus fo fiery. And won the fweepftakes in the Lady's Diary ; Such, Sire, in poetrv fl-iall hitch your name, " And do fufficic-nt JuaHcc to your fame." (C tc T r ■ •: N D. A LIST OF PETER PINDAR'S WORKS, Any of which may be hnd of G. KEARSLEY, No. 46, Fleet Street^ I. A Suppiicathig EPISTLE to the REVIEWERS, -- ;. LYx^lC ODES to the Royal Academicians, for 1782, .. — — 1783, 5. FAREWELL ODES — 17S6, 6. The LOUSIAD, Canto I. — — — _." 8. Congratulatory EPISTLE to JAMES BOS WELL — 9. BOZZY and PIOZZI, a TOWN ECLOGUE — — 0. ODE upon ODE, or a PEEP at St. JAMES's — — 1. An APOLOGETIC POSTCRIPT to ODE upon ODE 2. INSTRUCTIONS to a certain POET LAUREAT — 3. BROTHER PETER to BROTHER TOM — — 4. PETER'S PENSION, a folemn EPISTLE — — 5. PETER^s PROPHECY — — — 6. SIR J. BANKS and the EMPEROR of MOROCCO 7. EPISTLE to a FALLING MINISTER ~ — £' s. d. I 2 I 6 2 6 3 2 6 2 6 2 n 3 2 2 6 3 't 3 1 6 2 6 £'^ *^* Complete Sets may now be had, including a Mezzotinto Engraving, of the Author by one of the moft eminent Artifts. N . B. The complete Set, without the Portrait of the Author, is fpurious. tHE TENTH EDItlON. POETICAL AND CONGRATULATORY EPISTLE T O JAMES BO SWELL, Efq. PRICE TWO SHILLINGS. Centcren at S)tationcci5'ipa!lJ POETICAL AND CONGRATULATORY EPISTLE T O JAMES B O S \V E L L, Eiq. ON HIS JOURNAL OF A TOUR TO THE HEBRIDES, WITH THS CEtEBJlATEJJ Dr. JOHNSON. «o««5««Cir}c««e««»^c«e«*se«»o«s«i5«e« 5v PETER PINDAR, EC: , T^ECsru .s!caAiT3 SiJoj c^ja*' HoMi-R. THE TENTH EDITION. ■ - f <• L O N D Oi N/ ' . PstsTEB foi G.KEARSLEY, at JOHNSON'S HEAD, No. 46^ FLEET-STREET. X.OCC,LXXU^ POETICAL AND CONGRATULATORY EPISTLE T O JAMES BOSWELL, Efq. ON HIS JOURNAL OF A TOUR TO THE HEBRIDES, WITH THE CEtEBRATErn Dr. JOHNSON. •oooooooo4ooo<]0<]*40oo«o«oaooooaooo By PETER PINDAR, Efq. : Tfuicrf l^s\iTO Kvooi igt^ai- HoMER. THE TENTH EDITION. OtMMOao MMceOe BOMaOOOMOC MWMMMWOMoO L O N D a^ N: •Pnr.vTED pos G.KEARSLEY, at JOHNSON'sHEAD, No. 46, FLEET-STREET. POETICAL EPISTLE, &c. O B05WELL, Bozzy, Bruce, * whate'er thy name Thou mighty (hark for anecdote and fame ; Thou jackall, leading Hon Johnfon forth To eat M'Pherfon f 'midft his native North ; To frighten grave profefTors with his roar, Ar^d Ihake the Hebrides from Ihore to fhore^ B All * Vide Note, page i6. + The tranQator (but in Dr. Johnfon's opinion to Ossiak. the author) of the Poems attiibutei C 2 ) All hail!— At lengthy ambitious Thane, thy rage To give one fpark to Fame's befpangled page Is amply gratified— a thoufand eyes Survey thy books with rapture and furprife I Loud, of thy Tour, a thoufand tongues have fpoken, And wonder'd that thy bones were never broken ! Triumphant, thou thro' Time's vaft gulph fhall fail, The pilot of our literary whale ; Clofe to the claflic Rambler fhalt thou cling, Clofe as a fupple courtier to a king ; Fate fhall not fhake thee off with all its pow'r, Stuck like a bat, to fome old ivy'd tow'r. Nay, though thy Johnfon ne'er had blefs'd thy eyeSp Paoli's deeds had rais'd thee to the fkies ! Yes ! I ( 3 ) Yes! his broad wing had rais'd thee (no bad hack) A tom-tit twitt'ring on an eagle's back. ThoUj curious fcrapmonger, fhalt live in fong When death hath ftill'd the rattle of thy tongue ; E'en future babes to lifp thy name fhall learn, And Bozzy join with Wood, and Tommy Hearn, Wlio drove the fpiders from much profe and rhime And fnatch'd old ftories from the jaws of Time. Sweet is thy page, * I ween, that doth recite How thou and Johnfon, arm in arm, one night, March'd through fair Edinburgh's pa6lolian fhow'rs, Which Cloacina bountifully pours ; Thofe gracious fliowrs that fraught with fragrance flow, And gild, like gingerbread, the world below. B 2 How * Vide page 14. C 4 ) How fweetly grumbled too was Sam's remaikj, «" I fmell you, Mafter Bozzy, in the dark V Alas ! hiftorians are confounded dull, A dim Boeotia reigns in every fkull ; Mere beads of burden, broken-winded, flow. Heavy as cart-horfes, along they go ; Whilft thou, a Will-o'-wifp, art here, art there. Wild darting corufcations ev'ry where. What taftelefs mouth can gape, what eye can clofe. What head can nod o'er thy enlivening profe ? To others' works, the works of thy inditing Are downright di'monds to the eyes of whiting. Think not I flatter thee, my flippant friend j For well I know that flatt'ry would offend : Yet C 5: -> Yet honeft praifcj I'm fure, thou would'fl not flmrt. Born with a ftoinach to digeft a tun I Who can refufe a fmile that reads thy page,^ Where furly Sam, inflam'd with Tory rage, Naffau befcoundrelsj and with anger big. Swears Whigs are rogues, and ev'ry rogue a Whig? Who will not, too, thy pen's mlnntice blefsj That gives pofterity the P.ambler's * drefs ? Methinks I view his full, plain fuit of brown, The large grey bufhy wig that grac'd his crown^ Black worlled llockings, little filver buckles, And Ihirt that had no ruffles for his knuckles. I mark the brown great-coat of cloth he wore, That two huge Patagonian pockets bore, Which * Vide page 9. ( 6 ) Which Patagonians (wond'rous to unfold !) Would fairly both his Di6lionaries hold. I fee the Rambler * on a large bay mare, Jud like a Centaur ev'ry danger dare, On a full gallop dafh the yielding wind. The colt and Bozzy fcamp'ring dole behind- Of Lady Lochbuy f with what glee we read. Who ofFer'd Sam, for breakfaft, cold fheep's head ; Who, prefs'd and worried by this dame fo civil, Wifh'd the fheep's head and woman's at the deviL I fee you failing both in Buchan's t pot- Now ftorming an old woman § and her cot ; Who terrified at each tremendous fhape, Deem'd you two Demons ready for a rape : I fee * p. 376. t P. 429- % P- 104. § p. 143. ( 7 ) I fee all marv'ling at M'Leod's together On Sam's remarks * on whey and tanning leather : At CorrichatachIn'Sj+ the Lord knows how, I fee thee, Bozzy, drunk as David's fow, And begging, with rais'd eyes and lengthen'd chin, Heav'n not to damn thee for the deadly fm: I fee too, the ft^^rn moral i ft regale, And pen a Latin ode to Mrs. Thrale. % I fee, without a night-cap on his head, Rare fight ! bald Sam in the Pretender's ||bed: I hear (what's wonderful!) unfought by ftudying, His claffic differtation upon pudding: § Of Provoft Jopp, H I mark the marv'ling face, Who gave the Rambler's freedom with a grace : I fee *P. 299. tP.317. tP. 177- liP-2i6. §P. 4+0- 1lP>39- ( 8 ) I fee too, trav'ling from the Isle of Egg,* The humble fervant + of a horfe's leg ; And Snip, the taylor, from the Isle of Muck, t Who ftitch'd In Sky with tolerable luck : I fee the horn that drunkards muft adore ? The horn, the mighty horn of Rorie More ; § And bloody fhields that guarded hearts in quarrels, Now guard from rats the milk and butter barrels, Methinks the Caledonian dame I fee Familiar fitting on the Rambler's knee, Charming, with kiffes fweet, the chuckling fage: Melting w^ilh fweeteft fmiles the frofl of age ; Like Sol, who darts at times a cheerful ray O'er the wan vifage of a v/inter's day^ "Do * p. 275. t A Blackfonth. f?. 275. § P. 254, ( 9 ) « Do it again, my dear," (I hear Sam cry) " See who fird tires, my charmer, you or I." I fee thee ftafH.ig, with a hand uncouth, An old dry'd whiting in thy Johnfon's mouth ; And lo! I fee, with all his might and main, Thy Johnfon fpit the whiting out again. Rare anecdotes ! 'tis anecdotes like thefe That bring thee glory, and the million pleafe ! On thefe (Triall future times delighted ftare. Thou charming haberdafher of fmall ware ! Stewart and Robertfon, from thee, fhall learn The fimple charms of Hift'ry to difcern : To thee, fair Hifl'ry's palm, fhall Livy yield, And Tacitus, to Bozzy, leave the field ! C Joe ( 10 ) Joe Miller's felF, whofe page fach fun provokes^ Shall quit his fliroud, to grin at Bozzy's jokes t How are we all with rapture touch'd, to fee Where, when, and at what hour, you fwallow'd tea I How, once, to grace this Afiatic treat,- Came haddocks, which the Rambler could not eat. Pleas'd, on thy book thy SovVcign'a eye-balls rollj Who loves a goffip^s ftory from his foul ! Bleft with the mem'ry of the Perfian king,* He ev'ry body knows, and ev'ry thing; Who's dead, who's married, what poor girl beguil'd Hath loft a paramour, and found a child; Which gard'ner hath moft cabbages and peas, And which old woman hath moft hives of bees ; Which * Cyrus. ( ^^ ) Which farmer boafts the moft proUfic fows, Cocksj hens, geefejturkies, goats, fheep, bulls and cows; Which barber beft the ladies' locks can curl ; Which houfe in Windfor fells the fineft purl ; Which chimney-fweep beft beats, in gold array, His brufh, and fhovel, on the firft of May ; Whofe dancing dogs, in rigadoons excel ; And whofe the puppet-fhew, that bears the bell : Which clever fmith, the prettieft man-trap* makes, To fave from thieves the royal ducks and drakes. The Guinea hens and peacocks, with their eggs. And catch his loving fubje6ls by the legs. * His M— y hath planted a number of thofe trafty guardians around his park at Windfor, for the benefit of the public. C2 O! fmce ( 12 ) O ! fince the Prince of goITips reads thy book, To what high honours may not Bozzy look ? The fun-fhine of his fmile may foon be thine — Perchaunce, in converfe thou may'll hear him fliine Perchaunce, to llamp thy merit through the nation, He begs of Johnfon's Hfe^ thy dedication ; Afks queftions* of thee^ O thou lucky elf. And kindly anfwers ev'ry one himfelf, Bleft with the claffic learning + of a college. Our K — g is not a mifer in his knowledge Nought * Juft after Dr. Johnfon had been honoured with an interview with a certain great pcrfonage, in the Qiieen's library at Buckingham Koufe, he was interrogated by a friend Concerning his reception, arid liis opinion of the r-y-I intelleft. — " His M y feems to be poffeffed of much good nature and much curiofity (replied the Dodor) : as for his vis;-, it is far from contemptible. His M y indeed was jnuh'furious in his qutf- tions ; but, thank God, he anfwercd thum all hhnfelf." t This is a very extraordinary circurnftance, as the late P s D r retainul three parts of tl'.e money ordered for '.he educalion of her children. The effed of this abfurd condudi: was fo confpicuous in her daughter M a, that the letters received from her during her rcfidence in Dentnark, vcrc abfolutely unintelligible. ( 13 ) Nought in the ftorehoufe of his brains turns mufty : No razor-witj for want of ufe, grows rufty : Whate'er his head fuggefts, whate'er he knows, Free as eleftion beer from tubs, it flows ! Yet, ah ! fuperior far ! — it boafts the merit Of never fuddhng people with the fpirit ! Say, Bozzy, when to bleft; our anxious fight, Wlien fhall thy volume* burft the gates of light ? Oy cloth'd in calf, ambitious brat be born — Our kitchens, parlours, libraries, adorn ! My fancy's keen anticipating eye, A thoufand charming anecdotes can fpy : I read * The Life of Dr. ,'fohnfon. ( H ) I read, I read of G— ge the learn'd* difplay On Lowth's and Warburton's immortal fray t Of G—ge, whofe brain, if right the mark I hit. Forms one huge Cyclopaedia of wit : That holds the wifdom of a thoufand ages, And frightens all his workmen and his pages ! O Bozzy, ftill, thy tell tale plan purfue : The world is wond'rous fond of fomething new ; And, let but Scandal's breath embalm the page, It lives a welcome gueft from age to age. Not only fay who breathes an arrant knave, But who hath fneak'd a rafcal to his grave : Make * His M y's commentary on the quarrel, in which the Bifhop and theDo<3or pehed one the other Widi dirt fo gracefully, will be a treafure to the lovers of Hterature! Mr. B. hath as good as promifed it to the public, and, we hope, means to keep his word. ( IS ) Make o'er his turf (in Virtue's caufe) a rout, And, like a d-mn'd good Chriftian, pull him out. Without a fear on families harangue, Say who fhall lofe their ears, and who fhall hafig i Publilh the demireps, and punks— nay more, Declare what virtuous wife, will be a wh-re. Thy brilliant bram, conjecture can fupply, To charm through ev'ry leaf the eager eye. The blue flocking* fociety defcribe, And give thy comment on each joke, and jibe : Tell what the women are, their wit, their quality, And dip them in thy ftreams of immortality ! Let * A club chiefly compofed of mji learned ladies, to which Mr. B. was admitted. ( i6 ) Let Lord M' Donald threat thy breech to kick^* And o'er thy flirinkingj (houlders fliake his ftick : Treat with contempt the menace of this Lord, 'Tis Hift'ry's province, Bozzy, to record. Though Wilkes abufe thy brain, that airy mill, And fv/ear poor Johnfon murder'd by thy quill ; What's that to thee ? Wh^ let the vi6llm bleed — Thy end is anfwer'd, if the Nation read. The fiddling Knight,+ and tuneful Miftrefs Thrale, Who frequent hobb'd or nobb'd with Sam, in ale, Snatch * A letter of fevere remonflrance was fent to Mr. B. who, in confequence, omitted in tlie fecond Edition of his Journal, what is fo generally pleafing to tlie public, viz. the fcandalous palfages relative to this nobleman. t Sir John Hawkins, who (as well as Airs, Thrale, now Madam Piozzi) threatens us with tlie life of the iate lexicographer. < 17 ) Snatch up the pen (as thirft of fame infpires !) To write his jokes and ftories by their fires; Then why not thou, each joke and tale enrol, Who like a watchful cat, before a hole. Full twenty years (inflam'd with letter'd pride). Did'ft moufing fit before Sam's mouth fo wide. To catch as many fcraps as thou wert" able — A very Laz'rus at the rich man's table ? What, tho' againft thee porters* bounce the door,. And bid thee hunt for fecrets there no more ; * This is literally true — Nobcdy is at home. — Cur great people want the Tallc to relifli Mr. Bofwell's vehicles to immortality.. Though in London, poor Bozzy is in a defart. D With ( i8 ) With pen and ink fo ready at thy coat, Excifeman-like, each fyllable to note, That giv'n to printers devils, (a precious load !) On wings of print comes flying all abroad ? . Watch then the venal valets— fmack the maids, And try with gold to make them rogues and jades : . Yet Ihould their honefty thy bribes refent ; Fly to thy fertile genius, and invent : Like old Voltaire, who plac'd his greateil glory, In cooking up an entertaining ftory .; Who laugh'd at Truth, whene'er her fimple tongue Would fnatch amufement from a tale or fong. O ! v/hilft amid the anecdotic mine, Thou labour'ft hard to bid thy hero fliine, Run ( 19 ) Run to Bolt Court,* exert thy Curl-like + foul, And fifli for golden leaves from hole to hole : Find when he ate and drank, and cough'd and fneez'd— Let all his motions in thy book be fqueez'd : On tales, however ftrange, impofe thy claw ; Yes, let thy amber lick up ev'ry ftraw : Sam's nods, and winks, and laughs, will form a treat j For all that breathes of Johnfon mufl be great ! Bleft be thy labours, moft advent'rous Bozzi, Bold rival of Sir John, and Dame Piozzi ; Heav'ns! with what laurels fhall thy head be crown'd ! A grove, a foreft, fhall thy ears furround ! Yes, * In Fleet-ftreet, where the Doclor lived and died. t Curl, the bookfeller, frequently bribed people to hunt the temples of Cloacina for Pope's and Swift's Letters. ( 20 ) Yes ! whilft the Rambler fliall a comet blaze, And gild a world of darknefs with its rays, Thee too, that world, with wonderment, fhall hail, A lively, bouncing cracker at his tail ! POSTSCRIPT, ( 21 ) POSTSCRIPT. A S Mr. Bos well's Journal hath afforded fuch unlverfal pleafure by the relation of minute incidents, and the great Moralifl's opinion of men and things, during his northern tour; it will be adding greatly to the anecdotical treafury, as well as making Mr. B. happy, to communicate part of a Dialogue that took place between Dr. Johnfon, and the Author of this Con- gratulatory Epiftle, a few months before the Doiftor paid the great debt of nature. The Do(5lor was very cheerful that day; had on a black coat and waiflcoat, a black plufh pair of breeches, and black worfted ftockings; a handfome grey wig, a fliirt, a muflin neckcloth, a black pair of buttons in his fhirt fleeves, a pair of fhoes, ornamented with the very identical little buckles that ac- companied the phllofopher to the Hebrides; his nails were very neatly pared, and his beard frefh fliaved with a razor fabricated by the ingenious Mr. Savigny. P. P. " Pray, Dodlor, what is your opinion of Mr. Bofwell's literary powers ?" 'johnfon. " Sir, my opinion is, that whenever Bozzy expires, he will create no vacuum i.i the- region of literature — he feems firongly affected by the cacoethss fcr'ibendi \ wifhes to be thought araraavis, and in truth io he is — your knowledge in ornithology, G Sir, < 22 ) Sir, will eafilv uilcover, to what fpecies of bird I allude." Here the Dodor flicok his head and laughed. P. P. " What think you. Sir, of his account of Corfica ? — Of his charadler of Paoli r" John/on. " Sir, he hath made a mountain of a wart. But Paoli has virtues. The account is a farrago of difgufting egotifm and pompous inanity." P. P. I have heard it whifpered, Doiftor, that flaould you die before him, Mr. B. means to write your life." 'Johnfon. " Sir, he cannot mean me fo irreparable an injury.— Which of us fliall die firft, is only known to the Great Difpofer of events; but were I fure that James Bofwell would write my life, I do not know whether I would not anticipate the meafure, by taking hh." (Here he made three or four ilrides acrofs the room, and returned to his chair with violent emotion.) P. P. ** I am afraid that he means to do you the favour." Johnfon. " He dares not — he would make a fcare-crow of me. I give him liberty to fire his blunderbufs in h/'s own face, but not murder ;«^. Sir, I heed not his ^-jtos £(p« — Boswell write my life ! why the fellow poffefTes not abilities for writing the life of an ephemeron." FINIS. A LIST OF PETER PINDAR'S WORKS, Any of which may be had of G. Kearsley, No. 46, Fleet-Street. /. s. d. 1. A Supplicating EPISTLE to the REVIEWERS, -- o i 6 2. LYRIC ODES to the Royal Academicians, for 1782, 020 3 ' _ . 1783, o I 6 4. - ------ -- 1785, 026 5. FAREWELL ODES, - 1786, 030 6. The LOUSIAD, Canto J. ----- - -026 y, I Canto II. ---" - --026 8. Congratulatory EPISTLE to JAMES BOSWELL, 020 9. BOZZI and PIOZZI, a TOWN ECLOGUE, -030 10. ODE upon ODE, or a PEEP at St. JAMES's, -030 1 1 . An APOLOGETIC POTSTSCRIPT to ODE upon ODE, o i 6 12. INSTRUCTIONS to a certain POET LAUREAT, 026 13. BROTHER PETER to BROTHER TOM, -030 14. PETER'S PENSION, a Solemn EPISTLE, - - o 3 o 15. PETER'S PROPHECY, 030 16. Sir J. BANKSand the EMPEROR of MOROCCO, o i 6 17. EPISTLE to a FALLING MINISTER, - - o 2 6 18. SUBJECTS for PAINTERS, - - - - . 036 19. EXPOSTULATORY ODES to a Great DUKE and a Little LORD, ------ ^026 ^•2 6 6 »** Complete Sets may now be had, including a Mezzotinto Engraving of the Author by one of our molT: eminent Artifts. N. B. The complete Set, without the Fomait of the Author, is fpurious. Wu^ 3 158 01025 University of California SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed. UC SOUTmERN fsi D 000 009 455 =«< ^ -t; y. 'W- ■i^ ^IpJ ■•^ ^-s- *1 ^"ii".- ^■^vv- ^^4jiB^. mtims'