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 |
 | I. |
 | II. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| III. |
| IV. |
 | The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] |  |
Alas! who has not fondness for a name?
Lo, Nature wove it in our infant frame!
From ear-delighters, down to ear-confounders,
Each vainly fancies he possesses killing tones;
Ev'n from the Maras and the Billingtons,
Down to the wide-mouth rascals crying flounders—
Nay, proud too of that instrument the rattle,
That draws the hobbling brotherhood to battle,
Nay, watchmen deem their merits no way small,
Proud of a loud, clear, melancholy bawl.
Lo, Nature wove it in our infant frame!
From ear-delighters, down to ear-confounders,
Each vainly fancies he possesses killing tones;
Ev'n from the Maras and the Billingtons,
Down to the wide-mouth rascals crying flounders—
Nay, proud too of that instrument the rattle,
That draws the hobbling brotherhood to battle,
Nay, watchmen deem their merits no way small,
Proud of a loud, clear, melancholy bawl.
Yes, yes! much vanity's in human nature—
Like mad dogs, that abhor the water,
The painters hate to hear their faults display'd—
And though I sing them in the best of rhimes,
Such are the reformation-cursing times,
The foolish fellows really wish me dead.
Like mad dogs, that abhor the water,
The painters hate to hear their faults display'd—
And though I sing them in the best of rhimes,
Such are the reformation-cursing times,
The foolish fellows really wish me dead.
Now this is great depravity, I fear—
My tale, too, proveth it, as noon-day clear.
My tale, too, proveth it, as noon-day clear.
| The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] | |