 | Songs, comic and satyrical |  |
CASTLES IN AIR.
If I was a wit, like a wit I'd presume,
But no Muse beckon down from the sky:
I had rather go up—so old Pindar the groom
Bring Pegasus out and I'll fly.
But no Muse beckon down from the sky:
I had rather go up—so old Pindar the groom
Bring Pegasus out and I'll fly.
Take a leap from the land, gallop atmosphere o'er,
The man in the moon how he'll stare!
When I start for the pole, I'll go off upon score,
And clear ev'ry Castle in Air.
The man in the moon how he'll stare!
When I start for the pole, I'll go off upon score,
And clear ev'ry Castle in Air.
Those castles are built by Dependancy's dreams,
Poor Vanity's bubble the base:
Pale promise-pin'd Hope, as the architect, schemes,
They're furnish'd by folks out of place.
Poor Vanity's bubble the base:
Pale promise-pin'd Hope, as the architect, schemes,
They're furnish'd by folks out of place.
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If the nod of a Courtier our cringing shou'd crown,
Or bit by a smile from the fair,
Self-consequence swell'd, we disdain to look down,
So look up to a Castle in Air.
Or bit by a smile from the fair,
Self-consequence swell'd, we disdain to look down,
So look up to a Castle in Air.
My country I'll serve, my constituents defend—
On their honour thus candidates swear:
But fixt in their seat, wou'd you look for your friend,
He is lost in a Castle of Air.
On their honour thus candidates swear:
But fixt in their seat, wou'd you look for your friend,
He is lost in a Castle of Air.
What man in his senses of puffs wou'd be proud,
Or covet the multitude's stare?
What use have the shouts of Venality's croud?
But erecting a Castle in Air.
Or covet the multitude's stare?
What use have the shouts of Venality's croud?
But erecting a Castle in Air.
As to Genius, or Learning, or Science;—such names
Are frights to make fine breeding stare;
Dissipation at present such title disclaims,
They're said to be Castles in Air.
Are frights to make fine breeding stare;
Dissipation at present such title disclaims,
They're said to be Castles in Air.
Wise men from the East—you indeed ev'ry day
Can count out your orient glare:
Hark forward ye Nimrods, a Nabob's your play,
A Nabob's no Castle in Air.
Can count out your orient glare:
Hark forward ye Nimrods, a Nabob's your play,
A Nabob's no Castle in Air.
'Till Death shall us part, I'll be constant I vow,
This, too oft, is the phrase of the Fair,
But some Ladies minds are—one cannot tell how—
Not better—than Castles in Air.
This, too oft, is the phrase of the Fair,
But some Ladies minds are—one cannot tell how—
Not better—than Castles in Air.
'Till Death!—How appalling must that sentence be?
What looks then the proudest must wear?
When all the land left them, is six feet by three,
Their Castle—but out of the Air.
What looks then the proudest must wear?
When all the land left them, is six feet by three,
Their Castle—but out of the Air.
Too late they perceive, that they've time misemploy'd,
To be star'd at, or only to stare;
That they've liv'd to their loss, as each day was destroy'd,
Erecting new Castles in Air.
To be star'd at, or only to stare;
That they've liv'd to their loss, as each day was destroy'd,
Erecting new Castles in Air.
The Grave—but too grave is not fit for our plan,
Which is neither to doat nor despair:
While we live, let us live, making life all we can,
Then a fig for each Castle in Air.
Which is neither to doat nor despair:
While we live, let us live, making life all we can,
Then a fig for each Castle in Air.
| Songs, comic and satyrical | |