The Dance of Life A Poem, by the author of "Doctor Syntax;%" [i.e. William Combe] Illustrated with coloured engravings, by Thomas Rowlandson |
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| VIII. |
 | CHAPTER II. CHILDHOOD. The Dance of Life |  |
Long it had been his fate to rule
In Market-town a Grammar School,
And many a scholar he had rear'd
Who in the world with fame appear'd:
An humble Vicarage at last
Repaid him for his labours past.
His manners had but little grace:
On his hard-featur'd, wrinkled face,
A smile was seldom seen to play,
Nor soften'd look that did betray
The milder feelings of the heart;
No kind advance that would impart
Of warm regard the fond return,
But frowning look, and visage stern;
For all about him did imply
The form and soul of Pedantry:
But still with Learning he combin'd
The power that could command the mind;
Could, with such skill instruction give
That Dullness' self would e'en receive
The clear, elucidated thought
By his resistless science taught.
In Market-town a Grammar School,
And many a scholar he had rear'd
Who in the world with fame appear'd:
An humble Vicarage at last
Repaid him for his labours past.
His manners had but little grace:
On his hard-featur'd, wrinkled face,
A smile was seldom seen to play,
Nor soften'd look that did betray
82
No kind advance that would impart
Of warm regard the fond return,
But frowning look, and visage stern;
For all about him did imply
The form and soul of Pedantry:
But still with Learning he combin'd
The power that could command the mind;
Could, with such skill instruction give
That Dullness' self would e'en receive
The clear, elucidated thought
By his resistless science taught.
| CHAPTER II. CHILDHOOD. The Dance of Life | |