Poems by the late Hon. William R. Spencer A New Edition with Corrections and Additions; To Which is Prefixed A Biographical Memoir by the Editor |
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TO ---. |
 | Poems by the late Hon. William R. Spencer |  |
173
TO ---.
Our friend, ingenious Lockley,
says,
“Throw to the dogs my useless physic;
Leave town, and all its wicked ways,
For diet, quiet, mirth, and—Chiswick!”
“Throw to the dogs my useless physic;
Leave town, and all its wicked ways,
For diet, quiet, mirth, and—Chiswick!”
Adieu then, potion, draught, and pill,
On Lockley's words I've all reliance,
Who, though a leech most learned, still
Has sense more sure than all his science!
On Lockley's words I've all reliance,
Who, though a leech most learned, still
Has sense more sure than all his science!
But, whilst in these sweet bow'rs I stray,
By Pleasures, Graces, Muses haunted,
The Diet, Quiet—where are they—
For which this princely seat was vaunted?
By Pleasures, Graces, Muses haunted,
The Diet, Quiet—where are they—
For which this princely seat was vaunted?
174
Are feasts, whose magic fumes might raise
Dalrymple's portly spectre—diet?
Are nights, the sun mistakes for days,
And gilds with all his radiance—quiet?
Dalrymple's portly spectre—diet?
Are nights, the sun mistakes for days,
And gilds with all his radiance—quiet?
But Mirth is ours, my “sov'reign'st” cure,
When Townshend's polish'd satire moves it;
With Devonshire the wit is sure,
If he or utters or approves it!
When Townshend's polish'd satire moves it;
With Devonshire the wit is sure,
If he or utters or approves it!
And in Eliza's
smiles I find
From all my pains the best distraction;
They “medicine to the wounded mind,”
And health soon feels the bright reaction!
From all my pains the best distraction;
They “medicine to the wounded mind,”
And health soon feels the bright reaction!
The genial glow, which warms the streams,
By intermediate power's effected;
The surface only feels the beam
Which from its inmost bed's reflected.
By intermediate power's effected;
The surface only feels the beam
Which from its inmost bed's reflected.
| Poems by the late Hon. William R. Spencer | |