Catoninetales A Domestic Epic: By Hattie Brown: A young lady of colour lately deceased at the age of 14 [i.e. W. J. Linton] |
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ADDITAMENTUM |
 | Catoninetales |  |
ADDITAMENTUM
GO, LITTLE BOOK! from Author's solitude:
I cast thee on the market: go thy ways!
And if (so Southey) not too vainly good,
The world may own thee after many days.
When Holland's read, and Miller kinder view'd,
Poor Hattie Brown may hold her hat for praise.
Would L. C. M. pronounce my verses fine,
I'd own I think a many worse than mine.
I cast thee on the market: go thy ways!
And if (so Southey) not too vainly good,
The world may own thee after many days.
When Holland's read, and Miller kinder view'd,
Poor Hattie Brown may hold her hat for praise.
Would L. C. M. pronounce my verses fine,
I'd own I think a many worse than mine.
Or, borrowing good words of Mr. Thos, Watson:
“My littel Booke! goe hie thee hence awaie,
Whose price (God knowes) will countervayle no part
Of pains I tooke to make thee what thou art:
And yet I joie thy birth.”
Whose price (God knowes) will countervayle no part
Of pains I tooke to make thee what thou art:
And yet I joie thy birth.”
And of Master Hawes in his Pastime of Pleasure:
“Go, little Book! I pray good hap thee save
From miss-metring by wrong impressìon;
And who that ever list thee for to have,
That he perceive well thine intentìon.”
From miss-metring by wrong impressìon;
And who that ever list thee for to have,
That he perceive well thine intentìon.”
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As likewise the worthiest Mr. Geoffrey Chaucer:
“And for there is so great diversitie
In Englishe and in wryting of our tongue,
So pray I God that none miswryteth thee,
Ne thee mismetre for default of tongue;
And redde wherso thou be, or ellès sung,
That thou be understood God I beseeche.”
In Englishe and in wryting of our tongue,
So pray I God that none miswryteth thee,
Ne thee mismetre for default of tongue;
And redde wherso thou be, or ellès sung,
That thou be understood God I beseeche.”
Thus have I fingered the basket, beheld the holy barley (is it but hurly-burly?), fed on the drumhead, and drunken of the liquor of satisfaction. O Orpheus, thou wildcat charmer! have I not at this thy feast said Konz omtoz and it is finished!
Finis coronat
(Is my work one to groan at?)
O Puss!
(Is my work one to groan at?)
O Puss!
| Catoninetales | |