The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse (1735-1820): Edited by the Rev. R. I. Woodhouse |
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CHAPTER 7th.
The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse |  |
In Wealth's communities, accounted wise,
A golden Sun confounds the strongest eyes.
When, on a Throne, by Politicians built,
An Idol's plac'd proud Art has grav'd, and gilt,
No spot, no wrinkle, courtly Flatterers find
While Wits and Blockheads gaze till both grow blind:
So when inferior Idols Dupes behold,
Adorn'd with grandeur, and enrich'd with gold,
The dazzling Object so disturbs their sight
They note no difference whether black or white.
O'er-pow'rd with Pomp, would Prejudice declare,
A Dwarf was tall; a Negroe, fresh, and fair—
That coxcomb Sparrows' chirps, in pompous cage,
Might more than Nightingales, in woods, engage—
That caws of Crows and Rooks, round sumptuous tow'rs,
Outvie the Redbreast's trills in woodbine bow'rs;
And chattering Daws be deem'd much nobler Birds,
Than sapient Owls ne'er using silly words.
No Eagle soars sublime till Pimps behold
And tell its pinions glow with plumes of gold—
No Dove is docile—woodland Songster sweet,
Unless hatch'd—hous'd—fed—taught, in Wealth's retreat.
A golden Sun confounds the strongest eyes.
When, on a Throne, by Politicians built,
An Idol's plac'd proud Art has grav'd, and gilt,
No spot, no wrinkle, courtly Flatterers find
While Wits and Blockheads gaze till both grow blind:
So when inferior Idols Dupes behold,
Adorn'd with grandeur, and enrich'd with gold,
The dazzling Object so disturbs their sight
They note no difference whether black or white.
O'er-pow'rd with Pomp, would Prejudice declare,
A Dwarf was tall; a Negroe, fresh, and fair—
That coxcomb Sparrows' chirps, in pompous cage,
Might more than Nightingales, in woods, engage—
That caws of Crows and Rooks, round sumptuous tow'rs,
Outvie the Redbreast's trills in woodbine bow'rs;
And chattering Daws be deem'd much nobler Birds,
Than sapient Owls ne'er using silly words.
No Eagle soars sublime till Pimps behold
And tell its pinions glow with plumes of gold—
No Dove is docile—woodland Songster sweet,
Unless hatch'd—hous'd—fed—taught, in Wealth's retreat.
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CHAPTER 7th.
The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse | |