Maggots or, Poems on Several Subjects, Never before Handled. By a Schollar [i.e. Samuel Wesley] |
On a Hat broke at Cudgels
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Maggots | ||
64
On a Hat broke at Cudgels
“And then like greasie Coraubeck,
“Pinn'd up behind—no scabby Neck
To shew Sr. ---
(The Ramble.)
“Pinn'd up behind—no scabby Neck
To shew Sr. ---
(The Ramble.)
No silly Frog, nor Mouse, no Snake nor Gnat,
Hag-rides my Muse, 'tis an unlucky Hat,
Whose sudden Rise, and Fall I mean to tell:
O for a Dose of the Castalian Well,
The Tunbridge of Olympus! well may I
My whistle wet, for sure the Subject's dry.
At School of Hat I've made a Pitcher trim,
And suck't sweet Water from its greasit brim;
But tho' it went to th' Well so oft before,
At last 'tis crack't, alas! and holds no more.
Hag-rides my Muse, 'tis an unlucky Hat,
Whose sudden Rise, and Fall I mean to tell:
O for a Dose of the Castalian Well,
The Tunbridge of Olympus! well may I
My whistle wet, for sure the Subject's dry.
At School of Hat I've made a Pitcher trim,
And suck't sweet Water from its greasit brim;
65
At last 'tis crack't, alas! and holds no more.
Of all the Coverings which have e're been found,
Or black, or blew, or green, or square, or round,
Crowns lin'd with Thorns, (with Reverence be it sed,)
Beavers with Wigg, a Felt with Logger-head;
High Cap of Maintenance, low Cap of Fool,
High Cardinals Cap, low Cover of Close-stool;
Little or great, broad, narrow, course or fine,
Ne're was such an unlucky Hat as mine.
When Mr. Haberdasher was content
For many a supple Cringe and Complement,
To trust me for't at Interest twelve per Cent.
From some good-natur'd Friend, I know not who,
I made a shift to wring an Hat-band too.
Now all that see me wondring round me stand,
Like Nunckle quite disguiz'd in a clean Band.
As if to N. or M. I backwards came,
They on me stare, and ask me what's my name?
They dream I'm grown pileo donatus, free
From rusty Chains of lowsie Poetry:
But all their kind surmizes were in vain;
Nature held fast, I soon grew Cat again.
A Cudgel splits the Brim, new Lights surprize
The sudden Breach, and blind my dazzled Eyes;
Then lest the Fissure should a mark be sed
Of Satan's cloven Foot upon a Poet's Head;
Some gentle Lad an't please ye! overkind,
Like Bully-Hec's, buttons it up behind.
Well, he deserv'd each angry Muses Curse,
For this but made the better side the worse.
'Twas tuckt so close, My Honour seem'd to be
One of Quevedo's Knights of th' Industrie.
Thus had you seen't, you might be bold to swear,
Armies of hungry Rats had feasted there.
Since Charity saves him from just Vengeance, all
My teen on the unlucky Hat must fall,
Whose Traytorous Ancestors by Kings command,
Were with the Cardinals exil'd the Land.
Those golden days, those happy dayes of Yore,
When honest Caps the brightest Courtier wore,
May they come in agen, and quite displace,
With luckier Omens, all thy luckless race.
May'st thou, if that be possible, sink down
Below the Scandal of a Poet's Crown,
In Healths toss't up, pawn'd e're the Reckning's pay'd,
Then in the Kennel by thy Master lay'd:
Then cry'd about with an old Coat or Shoe,
Be ever travelling, like the wandring Jew!
Nor will I ever call thee back agen,
Till Poets are made Lords, or Aldermen.
Or black, or blew, or green, or square, or round,
Crowns lin'd with Thorns, (with Reverence be it sed,)
Beavers with Wigg, a Felt with Logger-head;
High Cap of Maintenance, low Cap of Fool,
High Cardinals Cap, low Cover of Close-stool;
Little or great, broad, narrow, course or fine,
Ne're was such an unlucky Hat as mine.
When Mr. Haberdasher was content
For many a supple Cringe and Complement,
To trust me for't at Interest twelve per Cent.
From some good-natur'd Friend, I know not who,
I made a shift to wring an Hat-band too.
Now all that see me wondring round me stand,
Like Nunckle quite disguiz'd in a clean Band.
As if to N. or M. I backwards came,
They on me stare, and ask me what's my name?
They dream I'm grown pileo donatus, free
From rusty Chains of lowsie Poetry:
But all their kind surmizes were in vain;
Nature held fast, I soon grew Cat again.
66
The sudden Breach, and blind my dazzled Eyes;
Then lest the Fissure should a mark be sed
Of Satan's cloven Foot upon a Poet's Head;
Some gentle Lad an't please ye! overkind,
Like Bully-Hec's, buttons it up behind.
Well, he deserv'd each angry Muses Curse,
For this but made the better side the worse.
'Twas tuckt so close, My Honour seem'd to be
One of Quevedo's Knights of th' Industrie.
Thus had you seen't, you might be bold to swear,
Armies of hungry Rats had feasted there.
Since Charity saves him from just Vengeance, all
My teen on the unlucky Hat must fall,
Whose Traytorous Ancestors by Kings command,
Were with the Cardinals exil'd the Land.
Those golden days, those happy dayes of Yore,
When honest Caps the brightest Courtier wore,
May they come in agen, and quite displace,
With luckier Omens, all thy luckless race.
May'st thou, if that be possible, sink down
Below the Scandal of a Poet's Crown,
67
Then in the Kennel by thy Master lay'd:
Then cry'd about with an old Coat or Shoe,
Be ever travelling, like the wandring Jew!
Nor will I ever call thee back agen,
Till Poets are made Lords, or Aldermen.
Maggots | ||