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The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot]

... With a Copious Index. To which is prefixed Some Account of his Life. In Four Volumes
Pindar, Peter (1738-1819)

expand sectionI. 
VOL. I.
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VOL. II.
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SUBJECTS FOR PAINTERS.
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EXPOSTULATORY ODES TO A GREAT DUKE AND A LITTLE LORD.
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A BENEVOLENT EPISTLE TO SYLVANUS URBAN, ALIAS MASTER JOHN NICHOLS, PRINTER, Common-Councilman of Farringdon Ward, And Censor General of Literature:
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A ROWLAND FOR AN OLIVER, OR A POETICAL ANSWER TO THE BENEVOLENT EPISTLE OF MR. PETER PINDAR.
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ADVICE TO THE FUTURE LAUREAT,
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COMPLIMENTARY EPISTLE TO JAMES BRUCE, ESQ. The Abyssinian Traveller.
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THE RIGHTS OF KINGS,
  
PROËMIUM.
  
ODE TO THE ACADEMICIANS.
 II. 
ODE II.
 III. 
ODE III.
 IV. 
ODE IV.
 V. 
ODE V.
 VI. 
ODE VI.
 VII. 
ODE VII.
 VIII. 
ODE VIII.
 IX. 
ODE IX.
 X. 
ODE X.
 XI. 
ODE XI.
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ODE XII.
  
[section]
  
ODE TO HYMEN;
 XIII. 
ODE XIII.
 XIV. 
ODE XIV.
 XV. 
ODE XV.
 XVI. 
ODE XVI.
 XVII. 
ODE XVII.
 XVIII. 
ODE XVIII.
  
TO MR. PITT.
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ODES TO MR. PAINE, AUTHOR OF ‘RIGHTS OF MAN;’
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THE REMONSTRANCE; TO WHICH IS ADDED AN ODE TO MY ASS ALSO THE MAGPIE AND ROBIN, A TALE; AN APOLOGY FOR KINGS; AND AN ADDRESS TO MY PAMPHLET.
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MORE MONEY!
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ODES OF IMPORTANCE, &c.
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THE TEARS OF ST. MARGARET;
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A PAIR OF LYRIC EPISTLES TO LORD MACARTNEY AND HIS SHIP.
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ODES TO KIEN LONG, The present Emperor of China;
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A POETICAL, SERIOUS, AND POSSIBLY IMPERTINENT, EPISTLE TO THE POPE.
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PATHETIC ODES.
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VOL. III.
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VOL. IV.

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328

CONCLUSION.

Think not, friend Tom, I envy thee thy rhime,
By numbers, I assure you, deem'd sublime;
Or that thy laureat's place my spleen provokes:
The king (good man!) and I should never quarrel,
Ev'n though his royal wisdom gave the laurel
To Mr. Tom-a-Stiles, or John-a-Nokes.
Old fashion'd, as if tutor'd in the ark,
I never sigh'd for glory's high degrees:
This very instant should our Grand Monarque
Say, ‘Peter, be my laureat, if you please;’
‘No, please your majesty,’ should be my answer,
With sweetest diffidence and modest grace:
‘The office suits a more ingenious man, sir;
In God's name, therefore, let him have the place:
Unlike the poets, 'tis my vast affliction
To be a miserable hand at fiction.
But, sir, I'll find some lyric undertaker,
Acrostic, rebus, or conundrum-maker,
Who oft hath rode on Pegasus so fiery,
And won the sweepstakes in the Ladies Diary;
Such, Sire, in poetry shall hitch your name,
And do sufficient justice to your fame.’
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