The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] :: :: University of Virginia Library

When first their majesties to Windsor went,
Lo, almost ev'ry mouth was rent—
With what?—with gaping on the royal pair:
Indeed from east and west and north and south,
Arriv'd large cargoes both of eye and mouth,
To feast on majesty their gape and stare.

Not Punch, the mighty Punch, the prince of joke,
E'er brought together such a herd of folk:

Amongst the thousands full of admiration,
Appear'd fair Windsor's gardening nation,
Blazing with Loyalty's bright torches—
They humbly came their majesties to greet,
Begging their majesties to come and treat,
On ev'ry sort of fruit, their grand allforches.
The couple smil'd assent, and ask'd no questions—
Resolv'd to gratify their great digestions.

Forth went his majesty, so condescending—
Forth went our gracious queen, the fruits commending—
Munching away at a majestic rate.
The gardeners saw themselves bespread with glory;
Told unto all the ale-houses the story;
Which houses did again the tale relate.
Yes, they were all so pleas'd that their poor things
Should find such favour in the mouths of kings—
So happy at the sudden turn of fate,
As though they all had found a great estate.

274

With awe so stricken were the gardeners mute—
So sharp they ey'd them as they ate their fruit—
Marv'ling to find that such as wear a crown
Had actions very much like theirs in eating;
And that they mov'd, when pines and nect'rines greeting,
Their jaws like other people up and down;
And that, like other folks, they ate a deal—
Making (that is to say) a ploughman's meal.

And now the gardeners, all so glorious, wanted
To send to majesty rare things—'twas granted.
Both horse and foot so labour'd to embark it!
So much indeed unto their graces came,
In consequence of this most loyal flame,
The palace look'd like Covent-garden market.

And lo, their majesties went forth each day
Their compliments to dainty fruits to pay:
The gardeners met them with best looks and bows;
And then the royal reputation rais'd—
The vegetable wisdom highly prais'd—
Of George the glorious, and his glorious spouse.

They told of Windsor town the gaping throng,
What taste did unto majesty belong;
As how they pick'd the best—strange to relate too—
As how their eyes were of such lofty stature;
Fill'd with so much sublimity their nature,
They look'd not on an onion or potatoe—
Which show'd a noble patronizing spirit,
And prov'd that even in fruit they favour'd merit.

Reader, prepare to drop thy jaw with wonder;
Prepare thee now to hear a sound like thunder;
The gardeners, lo, with majesty grew tired!
No more, their gracious visitors desir'd!
In short, when monarchs did themselves display,
The gardeners, bonâ fide, ran away;
Finding a sort of vacuum 'mongst their fruit,
That did not much their scheme of thriving suit.

275

For majesty gives nought to subjects, mind—
Honour and money would be much too kind:
The royal smile, and guineas' glorious rays,
Like Semele , would kill them with the blaze.

They now began exalted birth to smoke,
And fancy monarchs much like common folk—
Therefore no more, when majesties were coming,
Whistling and laughing, smiling, singing, humming,
They gap'd, and blessing their two happy eyes,
Leap'd at their presence, just like fish at flies.

Thus did those fellows run from queen and king;
Which shows the changeful folly of mankind—
By growing tir'd and sick of a good thing,
To actual happinesses blind!

For what in this our earthly world can spring,
That's equal to a glorious king?
What in this world of wonders can be seen,
That's equal to a charming queen?

To fancy otherwise, alas! what sin it is!
From such profane opinion how I shrink!—
There must be something great, for they too think
They're gods, or cousins of divinities!

No more the dogs the gard'ners ponder'd how
To say fine words, and make a pretty bow:
No more they felt a choaking in the throat:
No more look'd up and down, and wink'd askew,
Poor souls, and, silly, wist not what to do,
When with such awe the royal visage smote.

No, no! the scene was most completely alter'd,
No longer like some stupid jack-ass halter'd,

276

Beside a miller's door, or gate, or post,
In seeming meditation lost,
To majesty were drawn their heads so thick—
No—they were off—all admiration-sick.

Such is sad repetition, O ye gods!
And this may really happen to my odes!

Men of huge titles and exalted places,
Should at a distance commonly be seen—
Eyes should not be familiar with their faces;
Then Wonder goes a courting to each mien.

Lo, novelty's a barber's strap or hone,
That keenness to the razor-passions gives:
Use weareth out this barber's strap or stone;
Thus 'tis by novelty, enjoyment lives.

In love, a sweet example let us seek—
I have it—Cynthia's soft luxuriant neck—
Fix'd on the charm, how pleas'd the eye can dwell!
How sighs the hand within the gauze to creep,
Mouse-like, and on the snowy hills to sleep,
Rais'd by the most delicious swell;
Like gulls, those birds that rise, and now subside
Borne on the bosom of the silver tide.
But let the breast be common—all's undone;
Wishes, and sighs, and longings, all are gone:
Away the hurrying palpitations fly;
Desire lies dead upon the gazeless eye.
Sunk into insipidity is rapture!
Thus finisheth of love the simple chapter.

This is a pretty lesson, though not new;
A lesson fit for Gentile or for Jew—
For love, the cooing, sweet, persuasive pigeon,
Gains all the globe indeed to his religion:
Throughout the world his humble vot'ries pray,
And worship him exactly the same way.—
Other religions kill—are torn by strife—
Love kisses, and, what's sweeter still, gives life!

The story of Semele, not being known to every one, is this:—the young lady, ambitious of enjoying Jupiter in all his glory, perished amidst the sublime effulgence of the god.