A Miscellany of Poems consisting of Original Poems, Translations, Pastorals in the Cumberland Dialect, Familiar Epistles, Fables, Songs, and Epigrams, by the late Reverend Josiah Relph ... With a Preface and a Glossary |
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A Burlesque Epistle to Mr.--- |
 | A Miscellany of Poems |  |
19
A Burlesque Epistle to Mr.---
Dear G---
In studious sort I'm set here,
To pen a grave poëtick letter;
There lies my paper ready folded,
My pen is full and here I hold it:
—“You wonder then what makes me stay?
Why Sir I know not what to say
—Oh!—first your pardon I must seek
I own I shou'd have writ last week;
And wou'd, but for a private reason
Which shall be told at proper season
So Sir, impute not this neglect
To any want of due respect;
Nor think I ever cou'd transgress
Thrô business or forgetfullness:
Forget thee G---!—by Jove I'll not;
Sooner shall Laura be forgot:
Sooner shall you affect to wear
A sawcy sour ill-natured air:
Sooner shall Celia slip occasions
Of reck'ning up her rich relations:
Sooner (to sum up all the matter
In two th' unlikeliest things in nature)
Sooner shall K---n despair
While I am the favorite of the Fair.
To pen a grave poëtick letter;
There lies my paper ready folded,
My pen is full and here I hold it:
—“You wonder then what makes me stay?
Why Sir I know not what to say
—Oh!—first your pardon I must seek
I own I shou'd have writ last week;
And wou'd, but for a private reason
Which shall be told at proper season
So Sir, impute not this neglect
To any want of due respect;
Nor think I ever cou'd transgress
Thrô business or forgetfullness:
20
Sooner shall Laura be forgot:
Sooner shall you affect to wear
A sawcy sour ill-natured air:
Sooner shall Celia slip occasions
Of reck'ning up her rich relations:
Sooner (to sum up all the matter
In two th' unlikeliest things in nature)
Sooner shall K---n despair
While I am the favorite of the Fair.
Thus far I've got with much ado
(Your self can best determine how)
What else to say I know no more
Then does of Babylon the Wh---
Deed G---, I'm done confounded quite,
Dear Phœbus help me to indite,
Or I shall cut the table thrô,
An spoil my new sharped pen-knife too.
(Your self can best determine how)
What else to say I know no more
Then does of Babylon the Wh---
Deed G---, I'm done confounded quite,
Dear Phœbus help me to indite,
Or I shall cut the table thrô,
An spoil my new sharped pen-knife too.
21
He comes! he comes! (you think I jest
Why Sir I feel him in my breast)
Ten thousand thoughts possess my brain;
All thoughts of true poëtick strain;
So fast they struggle to get out
They'll choak the passage, faith I doubt:
Yes! what I fear'd is come to pass,
All my fine thoughts are stopt alass!
Not one word more I can say to you,
So fare you well and G*d be wi' you.
Why Sir I feel him in my breast)
Ten thousand thoughts possess my brain;
All thoughts of true poëtick strain;
So fast they struggle to get out
They'll choak the passage, faith I doubt:
Yes! what I fear'd is come to pass,
All my fine thoughts are stopt alass!
Not one word more I can say to you,
So fare you well and G*d be wi' you.
| A Miscellany of Poems | |