Original Poems and Translations By Francis Fawkes |
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A MECHANICAL SOLUTION OF THE Propagation of Yawning. |
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 | Original Poems and Translations |  |
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A MECHANICAL SOLUTION OF THE Propagation of Yawning.
When Pallas issued from the brain of Jove,
Momus, the Mimic of the Gods above,
In his mock mood impertinently spoke,
About the birth, some low, ridiculous joke:
Jove, sternly frowning, glow'd with vengeful ire,
And thus indignant said th' Almighty Sire;
“Loquacious slave, that laugh'st without a cause,
“Thou shalt conceive, and bring forth at thy jaws.”
He spoke—stretch'd in the hall the Mimic lies,
Supinely dull, thick vapours dim his eyes:
And as his jaws a horrid chasm disclose,
The Gallic trumpet sounded from his nose;
Harsh was the strain, and horrible to hear,
Like German jargon grating on the ear.
Momus, the Mimic of the Gods above,
In his mock mood impertinently spoke,
About the birth, some low, ridiculous joke:
Jove, sternly frowning, glow'd with vengeful ire,
And thus indignant said th' Almighty Sire;
“Loquacious slave, that laugh'st without a cause,
“Thou shalt conceive, and bring forth at thy jaws.”
He spoke—stretch'd in the hall the Mimic lies,
Supinely dull, thick vapours dim his eyes:
And as his jaws a horrid chasm disclose,
The Gallic trumpet sounded from his nose;
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Like German jargon grating on the ear.
At length was Polychasmia brought to light,
Like her strange sire, and grandmother, Old Night.
Her eyes to open oft in vain she try'd,
Lock'd were the lids, her mouth distended wide.
Her when Prometheus happen'd to survey
(Rival of Jove, that made mankind of clay)
He dar'd to emulate the wonderous frame,
Nor sought assistance from celestial flame:
To three Lethæan cups he learn'd to mix
Deep sighs of virgins, with three blasts from Styx,
The bray of asses, with the grunt of boar,
The sleep-preceding groan, and hideous snore.
Thus took the Goddess her mirac'lous birth,
Helpful to all the muzzy sons of earth.
Like her strange sire, and grandmother, Old Night.
Her eyes to open oft in vain she try'd,
Lock'd were the lids, her mouth distended wide.
Her when Prometheus happen'd to survey
(Rival of Jove, that made mankind of clay)
He dar'd to emulate the wonderous frame,
Nor sought assistance from celestial flame:
To three Lethæan cups he learn'd to mix
Deep sighs of virgins, with three blasts from Styx,
The bray of asses, with the grunt of boar,
The sleep-preceding groan, and hideous snore.
Thus took the Goddess her mirac'lous birth,
Helpful to all the muzzy sons of earth.
Behold! the motley multitude from far
Haste to the town, and crowd the clam'rous bar.
The prest bench groans with many a squire and knight,
Who weigh out justice, and distribute right:
Severe they seem, and formidably big,
With awful aspect and tremendous wig.
The pale delinquent pays averse his fine,
And the fat landlord trembles for his sign.
Poor, pilfering villains skulk aloof dismay'd,
And conscious terrors seize the pregnant maid.
Soon Polychasmia, who was always near,
Full fraught with morning cups of humming beer,
Steals to his worship's brain; thence quickly ran
Prodigious yawnings, catch'd from man to man:
Silent they nod, and with laborious strain
Stretch out their arms, then listless yawn again:
For all the flowers of rhetoric they can boast,
Amidst their wranglings, is to gape the most:
Ambiguous quirks, and friendly wrath they vent,
And give and take the leaden argument.
Haste to the town, and crowd the clam'rous bar.
The prest bench groans with many a squire and knight,
Who weigh out justice, and distribute right:
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With awful aspect and tremendous wig.
The pale delinquent pays averse his fine,
And the fat landlord trembles for his sign.
Poor, pilfering villains skulk aloof dismay'd,
And conscious terrors seize the pregnant maid.
Soon Polychasmia, who was always near,
Full fraught with morning cups of humming beer,
Steals to his worship's brain; thence quickly ran
Prodigious yawnings, catch'd from man to man:
Silent they nod, and with laborious strain
Stretch out their arms, then listless yawn again:
For all the flowers of rhetoric they can boast,
Amidst their wranglings, is to gape the most:
Ambiguous quirks, and friendly wrath they vent,
And give and take the leaden argument.
Ye too, Fanaticks, never shall escape
The faithful muse; for who so widely gape?
Mounted on high, with serious care perplext,
The miserable preacher takes his text;
Then into parts minute, with wondrous pains,
Divides, connects, disjoints, obscures, explains:
While from his lips lean periods lingering creep,
And not one meaning interrupts their sleep,
The drowsy hearers stretch their weary jaws,
Add groan to groan, and yawn a loud applause.
The faithful muse; for who so widely gape?
Mounted on high, with serious care perplext,
The miserable preacher takes his text;
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Divides, connects, disjoints, obscures, explains:
While from his lips lean periods lingering creep,
And not one meaning interrupts their sleep,
The drowsy hearers stretch their weary jaws,
Add groan to groan, and yawn a loud applause.
The Quacks of Physic next provoke my ire,
Who falsely boast Hippocrates their sire:
Goddess! thy sons I ken—verbose and loud,
They feed with windy puffs the gaping crowd.
With look important, critical, and vain,
Each to his nose applies the gilded cane;
Each as he nods, and ponders o'er the case,
Gravely collects himself into his face,
Explains his med'cines—which the rustic buys,
Drinks the dire draught, and of the doctor dies;
No pills, no potions can to life restore;
Abracadabra, necromantic power!
Can charm, and conjure up from death no more.
Who falsely boast Hippocrates their sire:
Goddess! thy sons I ken—verbose and loud,
They feed with windy puffs the gaping crowd.
With look important, critical, and vain,
Each to his nose applies the gilded cane;
Each as he nods, and ponders o'er the case,
Gravely collects himself into his face,
Explains his med'cines—which the rustic buys,
Drinks the dire draught, and of the doctor dies;
No pills, no potions can to life restore;
Abracadabra, necromantic power!
Can charm, and conjure up from death no more.
The Sophs, great goddess, are thy darling care,
Who hunt out questions intricately rare;
Explore what secret spring, what hidden cause,
Distends with hideous chasm th' unwilling jaws,
How watery particles with wonderous power
Burst into sound, like thunder with a shower:
How subtile matter, exquisitely thin,
Pervades the curious net-work of the skin,
Affects th' accordant nerves—all eyes are drown'd
In drowsy vapours, and the yawn goes round.
When Phœbus thus his flying fingers flings
Across the chords, and sweeps the quivering strings;
If e'er a lyre at unison remain,
Trembling it swells, and emulates the strain:
Thus Memnon's harp, in ancient times renown'd,
Express'd, untouch'd, sweet-modulated sound.
Who hunt out questions intricately rare;
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Distends with hideous chasm th' unwilling jaws,
How watery particles with wonderous power
Burst into sound, like thunder with a shower:
How subtile matter, exquisitely thin,
Pervades the curious net-work of the skin,
Affects th' accordant nerves—all eyes are drown'd
In drowsy vapours, and the yawn goes round.
When Phœbus thus his flying fingers flings
Across the chords, and sweeps the quivering strings;
If e'er a lyre at unison remain,
Trembling it swells, and emulates the strain:
Thus Memnon's harp, in ancient times renown'd,
Express'd, untouch'd, sweet-modulated sound.
But oh! ungrateful! to thy own true bard,
Is this, O Goddess! this my just reward?
Thy drowsy dews upon my head distil,
Just at the entrance of th' Aonian hill;
Listless I yawn, unactive, and supine,
And at vast distance view the sacred Nine:
Wishful I view Castalia's streams, accurst,
Like Tantalus, with unextinguish'd thirst;
The waters fly my lips, my claim disown—
Pope drinks them deeply, they are all his own.
Is this, O Goddess! this my just reward?
Thy drowsy dews upon my head distil,
Just at the entrance of th' Aonian hill;
Listless I yawn, unactive, and supine,
And at vast distance view the sacred Nine:
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Like Tantalus, with unextinguish'd thirst;
The waters fly my lips, my claim disown—
Pope drinks them deeply, they are all his own.
Thus the lank Sizar views, with gaze aghast,
The harpy Tutor at his noon's repast;
In vain his teeth he grinds—oft checks a sigh,
And darts a silent censure from his eye:
Now he prepares, officious, to convey
The lessening relicks of the meal away—
In vain—no morsel 'scapes the greedy jaw,
All, all is gorg'd in magisterial maw;
Till at the last observant of his word,
The lamentable waiter clears the board,
And inly-murmuring miserably groans,
To see the empty dish, and hear the rattling bones.
The harpy Tutor at his noon's repast;
In vain his teeth he grinds—oft checks a sigh,
And darts a silent censure from his eye:
Now he prepares, officious, to convey
The lessening relicks of the meal away—
In vain—no morsel 'scapes the greedy jaw,
All, all is gorg'd in magisterial maw;
Till at the last observant of his word,
The lamentable waiter clears the board,
And inly-murmuring miserably groans,
To see the empty dish, and hear the rattling bones.
| Original Poems and Translations | |