 | The Distressed Poet |  |
To Ludgate-Hill once more return'd,
Girls! you of Law enough have learn'd,
(His Godship cry'd); I think 'tis clear
Our own Astræa ne'er dwelt here,
Or if she did, I ne'er could find
She left her righteous Scales behind,
By which invaluable treasure
Man might to Man more Justice measure!
For since by Vice the world was humbled,
Wrong hath with Right been strangely jumbled!
The Beldam whom we lately left,
Tho' of all principle bereft,
O'er mortals sways with sov'reign Rule,
And plagues alike the wise and fool,
Can turn and twist things as she pleases,
Herself the worst of all diseases.—
But, Sisters of the Lyre! no more
Your Renegado lost deplore,
By me convinc'd, he'll soon return,
And with the zeal of Duty burn.
Law and Vexation both together
May raise a Tempest hard to weather;
They may conjoin'd fulfil their aim,
But they shall ne'er his spirit tame;
Myself will nerve him to despise
Th' Auxiliar Blasts which round him rise,
And unprovok'd their force unite
T' o'erwhelm the wretched Culprit quite.—
The storm once calm'd, I'll to his view
Picture the joys of Peace and You,
Teach him no more his hours to waste
With faithless Friends in frippery taste;
Severely school'd, I'll turn his eye
From where his mould'ring Ruins lie,
To scenes more pleasing, which belong
Alone to Harmony and Song,
Where to regain your smiles intent,
You'll mark him a true penitent,
And, as first off'ring to your Grace,
He shall in Verse record his Case.
Girls! you of Law enough have learn'd,
(His Godship cry'd); I think 'tis clear
Our own Astræa ne'er dwelt here,
Or if she did, I ne'er could find
She left her righteous Scales behind,
By which invaluable treasure
Man might to Man more Justice measure!
For since by Vice the world was humbled,
Wrong hath with Right been strangely jumbled!
70
Tho' of all principle bereft,
O'er mortals sways with sov'reign Rule,
And plagues alike the wise and fool,
Can turn and twist things as she pleases,
Herself the worst of all diseases.—
But, Sisters of the Lyre! no more
Your Renegado lost deplore,
By me convinc'd, he'll soon return,
And with the zeal of Duty burn.
Law and Vexation both together
May raise a Tempest hard to weather;
They may conjoin'd fulfil their aim,
But they shall ne'er his spirit tame;
Myself will nerve him to despise
Th' Auxiliar Blasts which round him rise,
And unprovok'd their force unite
T' o'erwhelm the wretched Culprit quite.—
71
Picture the joys of Peace and You,
Teach him no more his hours to waste
With faithless Friends in frippery taste;
Severely school'd, I'll turn his eye
From where his mould'ring Ruins lie,
To scenes more pleasing, which belong
Alone to Harmony and Song,
Where to regain your smiles intent,
You'll mark him a true penitent,
And, as first off'ring to your Grace,
He shall in Verse record his Case.
| The Distressed Poet | |