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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 | The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] |  |
ODE TO MADAM SCHW---G & CO.
On their intended Voyage to Germany.
Written in the Year 1789.
We wish you a good voyage to that shore
Where all your friends are impudent and poor.
Oblige us, madam—don't again come over—
To use a cant phrase, we've been finely fobb'd,
Indeed have very dext'rously been robb'd—
You've liv'd just eight and twenty years in clover.
Where all your friends are impudent and poor.
Oblige us, madam—don't again come over—
To use a cant phrase, we've been finely fobb'd,
Indeed have very dext'rously been robb'd—
You've liv'd just eight and twenty years in clover.
Pray let us breathe a little—be so good—
We cannot spare such quantities of blood;
At least for some ten years, pray cross the main;
Then, cruel, should you think upon returning,
To put us Britons all in second mourning,
We may support phlebotomy again.
We cannot spare such quantities of blood;
At least for some ten years, pray cross the main;
Then, cruel, should you think upon returning,
To put us Britons all in second mourning,
We may support phlebotomy again.
To you and your lean gang we owe th' Excise:
Pitt cannot any other scheme devise,
To pay the nation's debt, and fill your purses.
With great respects I here assure you, ma'am,
Your name our common people loudly damn;
Genteeler folks attack with silent curses.
Pitt cannot any other scheme devise,
To pay the nation's debt, and fill your purses.
With great respects I here assure you, ma'am,
Your name our common people loudly damn;
Genteeler folks attack with silent curses.
131
Madam, can you speak Latin?—No, not much—
I think you principally spew High Dutch:
But did you Latin understand (God bless it),
I'd offer up the pithiest, prettiest line,
Unto your Avarice's sacred shrine—
‘Crescit amor nummi quantum ipsa pecunia crescit.’
I think you principally spew High Dutch:
But did you Latin understand (God bless it),
I'd offer up the pithiest, prettiest line,
Unto your Avarice's sacred shrine—
‘Crescit amor nummi quantum ipsa pecunia crescit.’
The which translation of this Latin line
Is this—‘Alas! that maw profound of thine
May like the stomach of a whale be reckon'd:
Throw into it the nation's treasury,
But for a minute it will pleasure ye;
That gullet will be gaping for a second.’
Is this—‘Alas! that maw profound of thine
May like the stomach of a whale be reckon'd:
Throw into it the nation's treasury,
But for a minute it will pleasure ye;
That gullet will be gaping for a second.’
Madam, we wish you a long, long, adieu—
Good riddance of the snuff and di'mond crew!
Your absence, all, alone the state relieves;
For, hungry ladies, as I'm here alive,
A house can never hope to thrive,
That harboureth a nest of thieves.
Good riddance of the snuff and di'mond crew!
Your absence, all, alone the state relieves;
For, hungry ladies, as I'm here alive,
A house can never hope to thrive,
That harboureth a nest of thieves.
| The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] | |