The Works of John Hall-Stevenson ... Corrected and Enlarged. With Several Original Poems, Now First Printed, and Explanatory Notes. In Three Volumes |
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 | The Works of John Hall-Stevenson |  |
FABLE I. THE RIVER WITH A PETITION.
According to the Romish creed,I speak of Rome two thousand years ago,
The life that they suppos'd the Gods to lead,
You would not chuse to undergo.
Jupiter's business, day and night,
Was to attend with open ears and eyes,
And to write down as fast as he could write
All the impertinence that men devise
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The women had so great a share,
That their absurdities and cravings
Omnipotence alone could bear.
And furthermore, to try his patience,
He heard the prayers and fanciful distresses
Of all his children and relations,
And of his wife and his mis-tresses.
Once on a time, if you'll believe tradition,
A river in great tribulation,
To Juplter presented a petition,
With an expostulating exhortation;
Whereby, if the petitioner's refus'd,
He has a right to think himself ill-us'd;
A form of prayer contriv'd for execution,
Exactly like a double-barrell'd gun,
Which if you fire with resolution,
You have another chance when one is done:
So far from killing two birds with one stone,
An art that's very little known;
All the petitioner desir'd to do,
Was to kill one with two.
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For his attachment and devotion,
Had been appointed a commissioner
Of the revenues of the Ocean,
Which he collected with great pains,
And sent in good and current cash,
But for his trouble and clear gains,
The Sea return'd adulterated trash:
Wherefore he pray'd,
Exhorted and submitted,
That all the sums the Ocean pay'd
Shall for the future be remitted,
And issued fair,
Without debasement or impair.
Ungrateful Thames! the God reply'd
Without that mixture and alloy,
Which the Sea pours into thee every tide,
Thy beauty and thy strength would wear away.
Without his aid thou wouldst remain
Like Tiber, or the poor pretending Seine,
Led through parterres or roll'd down a cascade,
Confin'd to vanity, and lost to trade.
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'Tis thus the Union they abuse
For binding their back-sides in chains,
And shackling their free feet in shoes:
For giving them our food and fewel,
And comfortable cloaths;
Instead of cruel oat-meal gruel;
Instead of rags and heretable blows.
Luxury every day grows stronger;
The Highland fair,
Beholds her lover now no longer;
Trotting with his buttocks bare.
Thus Doctor Brown was taken with the spleen,
And fancied we were all undone,
Raving about a carpet and a screen,
And out of temper with the sun:
Because it is a crime,
As he supposes,
For men to run in winter time
Into the sun to warm their noses.
'Tis an egregious want of sense,
A want of taste and want of shame,
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And luxury are deem'd the same.
Good Doctor, spite of your discerning,
The term of Universal will agree
With your benevolence and learning,
Just as it suits with luxury.
You may perceive, if you be so inclin'd,
Like your discernment, luxury's confin'd.
For as the gout torments the hands and feet,
To ease the nobler stomach and the head,
So luxury, to gratify the great,
Insults and robs the labourer of his bread.
Luxury in a state is a disease,
Because 'tis partial and obstructed wealth,
But universal affluence and ease
Is universal happiness and health.
| The Works of John Hall-Stevenson | |