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 |
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 | The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] |  |
ODE III.
The Poet sweetly reproveth the Emperor for neglecting to turn a penny in an honest Way, and demonstrateth the Inconveniency of Generosity —proving that a Mind on a broad Scale may be productive of narrow Circumstances.
Great king, thou never educatest swine.
Nor takest goslins under thy tuition;
Nor boardest by the week thy neighbour's kine,
Like Pharaoh's—that is, in a lean condition.
Nor takest goslins under thy tuition;
Nor boardest by the week thy neighbour's kine,
Like Pharaoh's—that is, in a lean condition.
Nor dost thou cut down palaces to pens,
Nor sendest unto market cocks and hens;
Nor to a butcher sellest pork and beef:
Nor wool nor egg merchant, O king, art thou;
Nor dost thou watch the girl who milks the cow,
For fear the girl might sip, and prove a thief;
Nor settest traps to save thy fowls and eggs,
And catch thy loyal subjects by the legs.—
Nor sendest unto market cocks and hens;
Nor to a butcher sellest pork and beef:
Nor wool nor egg merchant, O king, art thou;
Nor dost thou watch the girl who milks the cow,
For fear the girl might sip, and prove a thief;
373
And catch thy loyal subjects by the legs.—
Nor dost thou go a shopping, mighty king;
I know that thou despisest such a thing;
Yes, to expose such meanness thou art loath—
Thou scorn'st to pride thyself on buying cheap,
And for some trifle a huge pother keep,
An ounce of blackguard , or a yard of cloth.
I know that thou despisest such a thing;
Yes, to expose such meanness thou art loath—
Thou scorn'st to pride thyself on buying cheap,
And for some trifle a huge pother keep,
An ounce of blackguard , or a yard of cloth.
Nor dost thou (which some people may deem strange)
Send pages with a halfpenny for change;
Nor dost thou (which would be a crying sin)
Cheat of his dues the parson of Pe-kin.
Send pages with a halfpenny for change;
Nor dost thou (which would be a crying sin)
Cheat of his dues the parson of Pe-kin.
Thy mind was form'd upon an ampler scale:
Each thought is generosity—a whale:
Not a poor sprat to dunghills to be hurl'd—
Thy soul a dome illum'd by Grandeur's rays,
That o'er thy mighty empire casts a blaze;
A beacon to inform a world.
Each thought is generosity—a whale:
Not a poor sprat to dunghills to be hurl'd—
Thy soul a dome illum'd by Grandeur's rays,
That o'er thy mighty empire casts a blaze;
A beacon to inform a world.
But, ah! Kien Long, thou never wilt be rich,
If generosity thy heart bewitch:
What says Œconomy? ‘Let subjects groan—
Let Misery's howl be music to thine ear—
Yes, let the widow's and the orphan's tear
Fall printless on thy heart as on a stone.’
If generosity thy heart bewitch:
What says Œconomy? ‘Let subjects groan—
Let Misery's howl be music to thine ear—
Yes, let the widow's and the orphan's tear
Fall printless on thy heart as on a stone.’
The souls of many kings are vulgar entries,
With not a rushlight 'midst the dismal winding;
A long, dark, dangerous, dreary way, past finding—
Hypocrisy and Meanness the two sentries.
With not a rushlight 'midst the dismal winding;
A long, dark, dangerous, dreary way, past finding—
Hypocrisy and Meanness the two sentries.
Ambition, that on riches casts its eyes,
Mounts on the tempest of a people's sighs!
O emp'ror, Generosity's a fool—
She wants advice from saving Wisdom's school.
Mounts on the tempest of a people's sighs!
O emp'ror, Generosity's a fool—
She wants advice from saving Wisdom's school.
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Look at a smiling field of grass:
Nothing can eat it out, nor horse, nor ass,
Provided that you put, to spare the feast,
A padlock on the mouth of ev'ry beast.
Thus, muzzle but thy palace now and then,
Thou wilt be wealthy among scepter'd men.
Nothing can eat it out, nor horse, nor ass,
Provided that you put, to spare the feast,
A padlock on the mouth of ev'ry beast.
Thus, muzzle but thy palace now and then,
Thou wilt be wealthy among scepter'd men.
Invite not a whole million
to thine hunt:
Thy purse with such a heavy weight would grunt.
In England, when a king a deer unharbours,
The sport a half a dozen butchers share;
Of smutty chimney-sweeps perchaunce a pair;
With probably a brace or two of barbers.
Thy purse with such a heavy weight would grunt.
In England, when a king a deer unharbours,
The sport a half a dozen butchers share;
Of smutty chimney-sweeps perchaunce a pair;
With probably a brace or two of barbers.
What though 'tis not quite royal—still we boast
Of gaining glorious fun with little cost.
The pocket is a very serious matter—
Small beer allayeth thirst—nay, simple water.
Of gaining glorious fun with little cost.
The pocket is a very serious matter—
Small beer allayeth thirst—nay, simple water.
The splendor of a chase, or feast, or ball,
Though strong, are passing, momentary rays—
The lustre of a liltle hour; that's all—
While guineas with eternal splendor blaze.
Though strong, are passing, momentary rays—
The lustre of a liltle hour; that's all—
While guineas with eternal splendor blaze.
| The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] | |