The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore :: :: University of Virginia Library

Fine and feathery artisan,
Best of Plumists (if you can
With your art so far presume)
Make for me a Pr---ce's Plume—
Feathers soft and feathers rare,
Such as suits a Pr---ce to wear.

First, thou downiest of men,
Seek me out a fine Pea-hen;
Such a Hen, so tall and grand,
As by Juno's side might stand,
If there were no cocks at hand.
Seek her feathers, soft as down,
Fit to shine on Pr---ce's crown;
If thou canst not find them, stupid!
Ask the way of Prior's Cupid.

170

Ranging these in order due,
Pluck me next an old Cuckoo;
Emblem of the happy fates
Of easy, kind, cornuted mates.
Pluck him well—be sure you do—
Who wouldn't be an old Cuckoo,
Thus to have his plumage blest,
Beaming on a R*y*l crest?

Bravo, Plumist!—now what bird
Shall we find for Plume the third?
You must get a learned Owl,
Bleakest of black-letter fowl—
Bigot bird, that hates the light ,
Foe to all that's fair and bright.
Seize his quills, (so form'd to pen
Books , that shun the search of men;
Books, that, far from every eye,
In “swelter'd venom sleeping” lie,)
Stick them in between the two,
Proud Pea-hen and Old Cuckoo.

171

Now you have the triple feather,
Bind the kindred stems together
With a silken tie, whose hue
Once was brilliant Buff and Blue;
Sullied now—alas, how much!
Only fit for Y*rm---th's touch.

There—enough—thy task is done;
Present, worthy G---ge's Son;
Now, beneath, in letters neat,
Write “I serve,” and all's complete.

See Prior's poem, entitled “The Dove.”

P*rc*v*l.

In allusion to “the Book” which created such a sensation at that period.