The three tours of Doctor Syntax In search of 1. The picturesque, 2. Of consolation, 3. Of a wife. The text complete. [By William Combe] With four illustrations |
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 | The three tours of Doctor Syntax |  |
At length the temple of perfume Was quitted for the billiard-room.
Ladies command, he must obey, So Syntax took a cue to play.
Tho' he did not the laugh approve, As he propos'd to play for Love,
Or when the usual sum was nam'd,
For which these ladies always gam'd.
But, yet it seem'd as if he won,
Though when the pastime they had done,
He was inform'd, and to his cost, The several parties he had lost,
As they were coolly counted o'er By the tall Miss who kept the score.
Whate'er he fancied in their feats,
He could not say he thought them cheats,
So he put on a smiling face, And paid his losings with a grace.
—The ev'ning rather calmly past,
When they all said, good-night, at last;
And the next morn, the breakfast o'er,
The whole a pleasing prospect wore;
When Ma'am proposed to show the glory
Of her renown'd Conservatory,
Where every plant and flower was found
That takes a root in British ground,
While many a native it could boast
Of distant clime and foreign coast:
Nor did her fine harangue neglect The true Botanic Dialect.
But just as Syntax felt inclin'd To speak the impulse of his mind,
And, with a ready force, dispense His scientific eloquence,
She urg'd him to direct an eye To a fine Rose of Tartary:
Ladies command, he must obey, So Syntax took a cue to play.
Tho' he did not the laugh approve, As he propos'd to play for Love,
Or when the usual sum was nam'd,
For which these ladies always gam'd.
But, yet it seem'd as if he won,
Though when the pastime they had done,
He was inform'd, and to his cost, The several parties he had lost,
As they were coolly counted o'er By the tall Miss who kept the score.
Whate'er he fancied in their feats,
He could not say he thought them cheats,
So he put on a smiling face, And paid his losings with a grace.
—The ev'ning rather calmly past,
When they all said, good-night, at last;
And the next morn, the breakfast o'er,
The whole a pleasing prospect wore;
When Ma'am proposed to show the glory
Of her renown'd Conservatory,
Where every plant and flower was found
That takes a root in British ground,
While many a native it could boast
Of distant clime and foreign coast:
Nor did her fine harangue neglect The true Botanic Dialect.
But just as Syntax felt inclin'd To speak the impulse of his mind,
And, with a ready force, dispense His scientific eloquence,
She urg'd him to direct an eye To a fine Rose of Tartary:
| The three tours of Doctor Syntax | |