 | The Poems of Robert Bloomfield |  |
Surprise, and mirth, and gratitude, and jeers,
The clown's broad wonder, th' enthusiast's tears,
Fresh gleams of comfort on the brow of care,
The sectary's cold shrug, the miser's stare,
Were all excited, for the tidings flew
As quick as scandal the whole country through.
“Rent paid by rhymes at Oakly may be great,
“But rhymes for taxes would appal the state,”
Exclaim'd th' exciseman,—“and then tithes, alas!
“Why there, again, 'twill never come to pass.”—
Thus all still ventured, as the whim inclined,
Remarks as various as the varying mind:
For here Sir Ambrose sent a challenge forth,
That claim'd a tribute due to sterling worth;
And all, whatever might their host regale,
Agreed to share the feast and drink his ale.
The clown's broad wonder, th' enthusiast's tears,
Fresh gleams of comfort on the brow of care,
The sectary's cold shrug, the miser's stare,
Were all excited, for the tidings flew
As quick as scandal the whole country through.
129
“But rhymes for taxes would appal the state,”
Exclaim'd th' exciseman,—“and then tithes, alas!
“Why there, again, 'twill never come to pass.”—
Thus all still ventured, as the whim inclined,
Remarks as various as the varying mind:
For here Sir Ambrose sent a challenge forth,
That claim'd a tribute due to sterling worth;
And all, whatever might their host regale,
Agreed to share the feast and drink his ale.
| The Poems of Robert Bloomfield | |