Poetics Or, a series of poems, and disquisitions on poetry. By George Dyer |
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| XV. | ODE XV. GAIA, OR MY OWN HONEST LANDLADY IN A COUNTRY VILLAGE. |
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 | Poetics |  |
ODE XV. GAIA, OR MY OWN HONEST LANDLADY IN A COUNTRY VILLAGE.
Ye landladies flaunting and gay,
Who live in the great London town,
Who dress and look fine every day,
Each day brings you many a crown;
Who live in the great London town,
Who dress and look fine every day,
Each day brings you many a crown;
Too proud your trim lodgings to shew,
Such chambers no shelter afford,
But to him who looks spruce as a beau,
But to him who can strut like a lord.
Such chambers no shelter afford,
But to him who looks spruce as a beau,
But to him who can strut like a lord.
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O! hear a poor rover complain,
And destin'd to rove about still,
How deeply his pockets ye drain,
How quickly your purses ye fill.
And destin'd to rove about still,
How deeply his pockets ye drain,
How quickly your purses ye fill.
A while cease to sport in the ring,
And give me one moment or two;
Of Gaia, good Gaia, I sing,
A landlady honest and true.
And give me one moment or two;
Of Gaia, good Gaia, I sing,
A landlady honest and true.
Remote from the noise of a town,
Unread in the jargon of schools,
This landlady liv'd in renown,
And squar'd by the wisest of rules.
Unread in the jargon of schools,
This landlady liv'd in renown,
And squar'd by the wisest of rules.
She toil'd in her own humble cot;
The village was full of her praise;
The rustics all envied her lot;
Her poet shall crown her with lays.
The village was full of her praise;
The rustics all envied her lot;
Her poet shall crown her with lays.
Her cottage so decent and neat,
Might gladden a lady most fine;
Her table so cleanly and sweet,
That with her a princess might dine.
Might gladden a lady most fine;
Her table so cleanly and sweet,
That with her a princess might dine.
Her provident hands did not spare;
Her friends she would help to the best;
For, tho' she maintain'd friends are rare,
She soon made a friend of her guest.
Her friends she would help to the best;
For, tho' she maintain'd friends are rare,
She soon made a friend of her guest.
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Each Sunday at church she was seen
In silks, and with posy so sweet;
And, as she walk'd over the green,
Each neighbour she kindly would greet.
In silks, and with posy so sweet;
And, as she walk'd over the green,
Each neighbour she kindly would greet.
For Gaia lov'd king and her church,
And thought it a maxim most true,
That who left a poor priest in the lurch,
Would soon rob the king of his due.
And thought it a maxim most true,
That who left a poor priest in the lurch,
Would soon rob the king of his due.
Yet hers was a catholic heart;
Good Non-cons kind Gaia could love;
To all she would kindness impart,
As mercy she look'd for above.
Good Non-cons kind Gaia could love;
To all she would kindness impart,
As mercy she look'd for above.
She welcom'd the gay early lark;
And hated the chattering jay;
But the owl that delights in the dark,
She said was accurs'd thro' the day.
And hated the chattering jay;
But the owl that delights in the dark,
She said was accurs'd thro' the day.
Her garden, tho' small, could afford
A portion for pleasure and use;
To cousins, when seen at her board,
She cakes and good wine could produce.
A portion for pleasure and use;
To cousins, when seen at her board,
She cakes and good wine could produce.
A neat little damsel was by,
Who waited and work'd at her will;
And a spinning wheel always was nigh,
That Molly might never stand still.
Who waited and work'd at her will;
And a spinning wheel always was nigh,
That Molly might never stand still.
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She gave to each rosy-fac'd boy
A cake, if he read his book well;
Her scraps gave the beggar-man joy;
Gipsy Joe all her praises would tell.
A cake, if he read his book well;
Her scraps gave the beggar-man joy;
Gipsy Joe all her praises would tell.
Like the bee and the provident ant,
Thus she toils, and she spends while she spares;
And tho' she so hated a cant,
Yet Gaia would oft say her prayers.
Thus she toils, and she spends while she spares;
And tho' she so hated a cant,
Yet Gaia would oft say her prayers.
Ye landladies flirting and gay,
Give Gaia the praise that is due;
And call her, for call her you may,
A landlady honest and true.
Give Gaia the praise that is due;
And call her, for call her you may,
A landlady honest and true.
And now I have finished my lays,
To her tho' more virtues belong:
But Gaia ne'er ask'd for my praise;
And therefore I give her a song.
To her tho' more virtues belong:
But Gaia ne'er ask'd for my praise;
And therefore I give her a song.
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