Rough Sketches of Bath, and Other Poems By Thomas Bayly ... Fifth Edition, with Additions |
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TO ORLANDO.
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 | Rough Sketches of Bath, and Other Poems |  |
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TO ORLANDO.
IMITATION OF HORACE—BOOK I. ODE IV.
“Solvitur acris hyems, grata vice veris et Favoni.”
The triumph of winter is o'er,
And spring re-illumines the plain
The breezes are balmy once more;
Adieu to the wind and the rain.
The Pump-Room attraction now ceases,
For Fashion no more lingers there;
The fair ones throw off their pelisses,
And cooler apparel prepare.
And spring re-illumines the plain
The breezes are balmy once more;
Adieu to the wind and the rain.
The Pump-Room attraction now ceases,
For Fashion no more lingers there;
The fair ones throw off their pelisses,
And cooler apparel prepare.
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Orlando! let's rove to the Crescent,—
Nay, frown not, let's hasten along;
To you it may surely prove pleasant,
Since Lucy enlivens the throng;
In Sydney Vauxhall, with your Venus,
The bustle of Bond-Street we'll shun,
Whilst pendant laburnums shall screen us
Awhile from the heat of the sun.
Nay, frown not, let's hasten along;
To you it may surely prove pleasant,
Since Lucy enlivens the throng;
In Sydney Vauxhall, with your Venus,
The bustle of Bond-Street we'll shun,
Whilst pendant laburnums shall screen us
Awhile from the heat of the sun.
Death knocks at the door of the cottage,
Or shatters the loftier gate,
And kicks down a pipkin of pottage,
As well as a service of plate.
Then surely, ye gods, 'tis a merit
To sing whilst possessing a rag,—
That mortal may soon be a spirit,
Who suffers his spirits to flag.
Or shatters the loftier gate,
And kicks down a pipkin of pottage,
As well as a service of plate.
Then surely, ye gods, 'tis a merit
To sing whilst possessing a rag,—
That mortal may soon be a spirit,
Who suffers his spirits to flag.
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Oh! happy Orlando, remember
Our span of existence is brief;
Soon April gives place to December,
And joy yields the sceptre to grief.
The heat now beginning to heighten,
Too soon shall the gay ones repair
To Scarborough, Weymouth, and Brighton,
All dying for want of sea air.
Our span of existence is brief;
Soon April gives place to December,
And joy yields the sceptre to grief.
The heat now beginning to heighten,
Too soon shall the gay ones repair
To Scarborough, Weymouth, and Brighton,
All dying for want of sea air.
Ah! surely, my friend, 'twill distress you,
To rove through the city alone:
How soon will blue devils oppress you,
When Lucy, your angel, is gone.
Then do not anticipate sorrow;
My friend, whilst we can, let's be gay;
Let us share (since joy leaves us to-morrow)
A double proportion to-day.
To rove through the city alone:
How soon will blue devils oppress you,
When Lucy, your angel, is gone.
Then do not anticipate sorrow;
My friend, whilst we can, let's be gay;
Let us share (since joy leaves us to-morrow)
A double proportion to-day.
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