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.
[When Flatt'ry sings, Age opes his eyes so clear]
When Flatt'ry sings, Age opes his eyes so clear,
And claps so brisk the trumpet to his ear,
So wondrously inspir'd he lists, and sees!
When Flatt'ry sings, pale Colic's pains are off;
Consumption pants not, but forgets his cough;
And Asthma's loaded lungs forbear to wheeze.
And claps so brisk the trumpet to his ear,
So wondrously inspir'd he lists, and sees!
When Flatt'ry sings, pale Colic's pains are off;
Consumption pants not, but forgets his cough;
And Asthma's loaded lungs forbear to wheeze.
Stung is the soul with Hyp's rope-off'ring evils?
Flatt'ry's a talisman to drive the devils.
Flatt'ry's a talisman to drive the devils.
Sweet on the list'ning ear of stilly Night,
As warbling dieth Philomela's song;
So on the ear of man, with rich delight,
The lulling music flows from Flatt'ry's tongue.
As warbling dieth Philomela's song;
So on the ear of man, with rich delight,
The lulling music flows from Flatt'ry's tongue.
Show me the man, and I will thank thee for it,
Who says, with truth, ‘Poh! Flatt'ry! I abhor it.’—
'Tis a non-descript—by Sir Joseph bred—
A Soho monster, born without a head.
Who says, with truth, ‘Poh! Flatt'ry! I abhor it.’—
'Tis a non-descript—by Sir Joseph bred—
A Soho monster, born without a head.
Flatt'ry's a perfect mistress of her art;
With picklock keys to open ev'ry heart.
What mortal can withstand the fire of Flatt'ry?
No one! 'tis such a most successful batt'ry.
No head, however thick, resists its shot;
Yet each pretends to mock it!—what a sot!
With picklock keys to open ev'ry heart.
202
No one! 'tis such a most successful batt'ry.
No head, however thick, resists its shot;
Yet each pretends to mock it!—what a sot!
| The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] | |