The Works of Richard Owen Cambridge Including several pieces never before published: with an account of his life and character, by his son, George Owen Cambridge |
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THE AUTHOR TO THE SCRIBLERIAD. |
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 | The Works of Richard Owen Cambridge |  |
64
THE AUTHOR TO THE SCRIBLERIAD.
WELL then, for all that I have said,
You keep your eyes on Tully's head.
Has pride with such impatience fill'd you,
You pine till Dodsley clothe and gild you;
As foppish minors court their taylor,
And hate their guardian as their gaoler.
'Tis so, you an't content, you say
With Barnard, Whitehead, Yorke, and Wray.
No more you 'll visit squeamish Wits,
So often in their absent fits:
No more be read alone to Browne;
But go at once upon the Town.
Go then, you 'll never think me wise,
Till Wits begin to criticise,
And doom you to the trunks or pies.
Or, if it happens for a while,
Your novelty should make 'em smile,
Soon will you think of my advice,
When the cloy'd reader grows so nice:
For something new he throws you by,
Where you o'erwhelm'd forgot must lye;
Where daily pamphlets shall confound you,
And Night Thoughts ever growing round you.
You keep your eyes on Tully's head.
Has pride with such impatience fill'd you,
You pine till Dodsley clothe and gild you;
As foppish minors court their taylor,
And hate their guardian as their gaoler.
'Tis so, you an't content, you say
With Barnard, Whitehead, Yorke, and Wray.
65
So often in their absent fits:
No more be read alone to Browne;
But go at once upon the Town.
Go then, you 'll never think me wise,
Till Wits begin to criticise,
And doom you to the trunks or pies.
Or, if it happens for a while,
Your novelty should make 'em smile,
Soon will you think of my advice,
When the cloy'd reader grows so nice:
For something new he throws you by,
Where you o'erwhelm'd forgot must lye;
Where daily pamphlets shall confound you,
And Night Thoughts ever growing round you.
But while their favour you maintain,
(For 'tis as short liv'd as 'tis vain)
Thus much of me you may declare,
That tho' I live in Country air,
And with a snug retirement blest,
Yet oft, impatient of my nest,
I spread my broad and ample wing,
And in the midst of action spring.
A great admirer of great men,
And much by them admir'd again.
My body light, my figure slim,
My mind dispos'd to mirth and whim:
Then on my Family hold forth,
Less fam'd for Quality than Worth.
But let not all these points divert you
From speaking largely of my Virtue.
Should anyone desire to hear a
Precise description of your Æra,
Tell 'em that you was on the anvil,
When Bath came into pow'r with Granville.
When they came in you were about,
And not quite done when they went out .
(For 'tis as short liv'd as 'tis vain)
66
That tho' I live in Country air,
And with a snug retirement blest,
Yet oft, impatient of my nest,
I spread my broad and ample wing,
And in the midst of action spring.
A great admirer of great men,
And much by them admir'd again.
My body light, my figure slim,
My mind dispos'd to mirth and whim:
Then on my Family hold forth,
Less fam'd for Quality than Worth.
But let not all these points divert you
From speaking largely of my Virtue.
Should anyone desire to hear a
Precise description of your Æra,
67
When Bath came into pow'r with Granville.
When they came in you were about,
And not quite done when they went out .
| The Works of Richard Owen Cambridge | |