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 |
 |
 |
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
 | The three tours of Doctor Syntax |  |
I do not mean to reason, why ('Tis not in my philosophy)
A dainty dinner meal inherits The power to elevate the spirits;
But this I know, that Syntax never Appear'd so lively or so clever,
As when he found superior work For the display of knife and fork:
Thus when the Lady's dinner came, The mild and sentimental flame
By lively sallies was suppress'd And yielded to the active zest
Which, at the table and long after,
Made dear Miss Pallet burst with laughter.
But, as the time drew nigh to part,
More solemn thoughts resum'd his heart,
And the fair Artist thus combin'd The sense of her reflecting mind.
“—Your high renown, dear Sir, for learning,
Is far beyond my weak discerning:
But still I surely may aspire To feel as well as to admire
The eloquence and brilliant wit That does each rising object fit;
And humour that ne'er passes by The offer'd opportunity.
Yet I must own, that I prefer The dignity of character,
Which, leaving frolic out of sight,
Does the mind's higher taste delight;
The nobler sense which virtue loves,
And while it pleasure gives improves;
Becalms the pressing sense of pain,
When fun plays all its tricks in vain:
Nay, e'en in sorrow's mournful hour, It offers its consoling power;
And though tears glisten in the eyes,
The heart in smiles will sympathise.
The tale that does our feelings soften
Cannot be heard or read too often;
But laughing tricks, however treated, Are stupid always when repeated:
When novelty no more supplies The quick sensation of surprise,
The joke grows dull nor will beguile
The forewarn'd list'ner e'en to smile.
The proverb says, there's nought so stale,
So stupid as a twice told tale.
Unless it has a higher bent, When rais'd and gemm'd by sentiment,
Then 'twill repeated pleasure give,
While the heart melts and virtues live:
And you ne'er please my mind so much,
As when on those high points you touch
Which the soul's brighter flights display
That bear me from myself away.
But you command the two-fold power:
The solemn and the lively hour
Alike, in pleasing change, submit Or to your wisdom or your wit;
And, with rare energies combin'd, You rule the muscles and the mind.
Within the hour that's passing by My heart has felt a heav'nly sigh,
And laughter moisten'd either eye:
But though my higher feelings bend
To the grave maxims you commend,
Believe me, I am nothing loath In season due to feel them both.”
This and much more the Doctor heard,
When he his foundling's suit preferr'd,
And as he urg'd her heart to move With pitying and protecting love,
She said her utmost to content him
About the child whom Heaven had sent him,
And to repay her gen'rous care,
Ask'd but his blessing and his prayer.
That blessing from his heart was given,
And his prayer crav'd the grace of Heaven:
For well he knew that pious prayer Is sure to find admission there:
And he had learn'd the happy way,
Both how to bless and how to pray.
—A warm embrace, a fond adieu, Clos'd this kind-hearted interview,
With hopes of time so charming, when
They both should meet at Sommerden.
A dainty dinner meal inherits The power to elevate the spirits;
But this I know, that Syntax never Appear'd so lively or so clever,
As when he found superior work For the display of knife and fork:
Thus when the Lady's dinner came, The mild and sentimental flame
By lively sallies was suppress'd And yielded to the active zest
Which, at the table and long after,
Made dear Miss Pallet burst with laughter.
But, as the time drew nigh to part,
More solemn thoughts resum'd his heart,
And the fair Artist thus combin'd The sense of her reflecting mind.
“—Your high renown, dear Sir, for learning,
Is far beyond my weak discerning:
But still I surely may aspire To feel as well as to admire
The eloquence and brilliant wit That does each rising object fit;
And humour that ne'er passes by The offer'd opportunity.
360
Which, leaving frolic out of sight,
Does the mind's higher taste delight;
The nobler sense which virtue loves,
And while it pleasure gives improves;
Becalms the pressing sense of pain,
When fun plays all its tricks in vain:
Nay, e'en in sorrow's mournful hour, It offers its consoling power;
And though tears glisten in the eyes,
The heart in smiles will sympathise.
The tale that does our feelings soften
Cannot be heard or read too often;
But laughing tricks, however treated, Are stupid always when repeated:
When novelty no more supplies The quick sensation of surprise,
The joke grows dull nor will beguile
The forewarn'd list'ner e'en to smile.
The proverb says, there's nought so stale,
So stupid as a twice told tale.
Unless it has a higher bent, When rais'd and gemm'd by sentiment,
Then 'twill repeated pleasure give,
While the heart melts and virtues live:
And you ne'er please my mind so much,
As when on those high points you touch
Which the soul's brighter flights display
That bear me from myself away.
But you command the two-fold power:
The solemn and the lively hour
Alike, in pleasing change, submit Or to your wisdom or your wit;
And, with rare energies combin'd, You rule the muscles and the mind.
Within the hour that's passing by My heart has felt a heav'nly sigh,
And laughter moisten'd either eye:
But though my higher feelings bend
To the grave maxims you commend,
Believe me, I am nothing loath In season due to feel them both.”
This and much more the Doctor heard,
When he his foundling's suit preferr'd,
And as he urg'd her heart to move With pitying and protecting love,
She said her utmost to content him
About the child whom Heaven had sent him,
And to repay her gen'rous care,
Ask'd but his blessing and his prayer.
That blessing from his heart was given,
And his prayer crav'd the grace of Heaven:
For well he knew that pious prayer Is sure to find admission there:
And he had learn'd the happy way,
Both how to bless and how to pray.
—A warm embrace, a fond adieu, Clos'd this kind-hearted interview,
With hopes of time so charming, when
They both should meet at Sommerden.
| The three tours of Doctor Syntax | |