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 |
 | I. |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
 | The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] |  |
Such, Thomas, is the way to write!
Thus shouldst thou birth-day songs indite;
Then stick to earth, and leave the lofty sky;
No more of ti tum tum, and ti tum ti.
Thus should an honest laureat write of kings—
Not praise them for imaginary things:
I own I cannot make my stubborn rhime
Call ev'ry king a character sublime;
For conscience will not suffer me to wander
So very widely from the paths of candour.
I know full well some kings are to be seen,
To whom my verse so bold would give the spleen,
Should that bold verse declare they wanted brains;
I won't say that they never brain possess'd—
They may have been with such a present bless'd,
And therefore fancy that some still remains;
Thus shouldst thou birth-day songs indite;
Then stick to earth, and leave the lofty sky;
No more of ti tum tum, and ti tum ti.
368
Not praise them for imaginary things:
I own I cannot make my stubborn rhime
Call ev'ry king a character sublime;
For conscience will not suffer me to wander
So very widely from the paths of candour.
I know full well some kings are to be seen,
To whom my verse so bold would give the spleen,
Should that bold verse declare they wanted brains;
I won't say that they never brain possess'd—
They may have been with such a present bless'd,
And therefore fancy that some still remains;
For ev'ry well-experienc'd surgeon knows
That men who with their legs have parted,
Swear that they've felt a pain in all their toes,
And often at the twinges started:
Then star'd upon their oaken stumps in vain!
Fancying the toes were all come back again.
That men who with their legs have parted,
Swear that they've felt a pain in all their toes,
And often at the twinges started:
Then star'd upon their oaken stumps in vain!
Fancying the toes were all come back again.
If men, then, who their absent toes have mourn'd,
Can fancy those same toes at times return'd;
So kings, in matters of intelligences,
May fancy they have stumbled on their senses.
Can fancy those same toes at times return'd;
So kings, in matters of intelligences,
May fancy they have stumbled on their senses.
Yes, Tom—mine is the way of writing ode—
Why liftest thou thy pious eyes to God?
Strange disappointment in thy looks I read:
And now I hear thee in proud triumph cry,
‘Is this an action, Peter? this a deed
To raise a monarch to the sky?
Tubs, porter, pumps, vats, all the Whitbread throng,
Rare things to figure in the Muse's song!’
Why liftest thou thy pious eyes to God?
Strange disappointment in thy looks I read:
And now I hear thee in proud triumph cry,
‘Is this an action, Peter? this a deed
To raise a monarch to the sky?
Tubs, porter, pumps, vats, all the Whitbread throng,
Rare things to figure in the Muse's song!’
Thomas, I here protest I want no quarrels
On kings and brewers, porter, pumps, and barrels—
Far from the dovelike Peter be such strife!
But this I tell thee, Thomas, for a fact—
Thy Cæsar never did an act
More wise, more glorious in his life.
On kings and brewers, porter, pumps, and barrels—
369
But this I tell thee, Thomas, for a fact—
Thy Cæsar never did an act
More wise, more glorious in his life.
Now God preserve all wonder-hunting kings,
Whether at Windsor, Buckingham, or Kew-house;
And may they never do more foolish things
Than visiting Sam Whitbread and his brewhouse!
Whether at Windsor, Buckingham, or Kew-house;
And may they never do more foolish things
Than visiting Sam Whitbread and his brewhouse!
| The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] | |