Poems by the late Hon. William R. Spencer A New Edition with Corrections and Additions; To Which is Prefixed A Biographical Memoir by the Editor |
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ADDRESSED TO
LADY SUSAN FINCASTLE,
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 | Poems by the late Hon. William R. Spencer |  |
213
ADDRESSED TO LADY SUSAN FINCASTLE,
(NOW COUNTESS OF DUNMORE.)
What ails you, Fancy? you're become
Colder than Truth, than Reason duller!
Your wings are worn, your chirping's dumb,
And ev'ry plume has lost its colour.
Colder than Truth, than Reason duller!
Your wings are worn, your chirping's dumb,
And ev'ry plume has lost its colour.
You droop like geese, whose cacklings cease
When dire St. Michael they remember,
Or like some bird who just has heard
That Fin's preparing for September!
When dire St. Michael they remember,
Or like some bird who just has heard
That Fin's preparing for September!
Can you refuse your sweetest spell
When I for Susan's praise invoke you?
What, sulkier still, you pout and swell
As if that lovely name would choke you.
When I for Susan's praise invoke you?
What, sulkier still, you pout and swell
As if that lovely name would choke you.
214
“Go seek (I hear the imp reply)
Those dull cold goddesses you mention,
For such a theme you'll vainly try
To borrow beauty from invention.
Those dull cold goddesses you mention,
For such a theme you'll vainly try
To borrow beauty from invention.
“No wonder that I droop, forsooth!
For Fancy, Sir, is out of season,
When all your praise can be but Truth,
And all your adoration—Reason!”
For Fancy, Sir, is out of season,
When all your praise can be but Truth,
And all your adoration—Reason!”
| Poems by the late Hon. William R. Spencer | |