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 |
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PETITION TO TIME IN FAVOUR OF THE DUCHESS OF DEVONSHIRE. |
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 | The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] |  |
PETITION TO TIME IN FAVOUR OF THE DUCHESS OF DEVONSHIRE.
TOO long, O Time, in Bienseance's school
Have I been bred, to call thee an old fool;
Yet take I liberty to let thee know,
That I have always thought thee so:
Full old art thou to have more sense—
Then, with an idle custom, Time, dispense.
Have I been bred, to call thee an old fool;
Yet take I liberty to let thee know,
That I have always thought thee so:
Full old art thou to have more sense—
Then, with an idle custom, Time, dispense.
Thou really actest now, like little misses,
Who, when a pretty doll they make,
Their curious fingers itch to take
The pretty image all to pieces:
Thus, after thou hast form'd a charming fair,
Thou canst not quit her for thy soul,
Till, meddling, thou hast spoil'd her bloom and air,
And dimn'd her eye, with radiance taught to roll.
Who, when a pretty doll they make,
Their curious fingers itch to take
The pretty image all to pieces:
Thus, after thou hast form'd a charming fair,
Thou canst not quit her for thy soul,
Till, meddling, thou hast spoil'd her bloom and air,
And dimn'd her eye, with radiance taught to roll.
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But now forbear such doings, I desire—
Hurt not the form that all admire—
Oh, never with white hairs her temple sprinkle—
Oh, sacred be her cheek, her lip, her bloom,
And do not, in a lovely dimple's room,
Place a hard mortifying wrinkle.
Hurt not the form that all admire—
Oh, never with white hairs her temple sprinkle—
Oh, sacred be her cheek, her lip, her bloom,
And do not, in a lovely dimple's room,
Place a hard mortifying wrinkle.
Know, shouldst thou bid the beauteous duchess fade,
Thou, therefore, must thy own delights invade;
And know, 'twill be a long, long while,
Before thou giv'st her equal to our isle—
Then do not with this sweet chef d'œuvre part,
But keep, to show the triumph of thy art.
Thou, therefore, must thy own delights invade;
And know, 'twill be a long, long while,
Before thou giv'st her equal to our isle—
Then do not with this sweet chef d'œuvre part,
But keep, to show the triumph of thy art.
| The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] | |