 | The poems of Dr. Yalden |  |
FABLE XVI. A LACONIC CONDEMNED.
A sage Laconic, truly wise,
Whose conversation was concise,
Train'd up in rigid schools;
Once, when a single word would do,
Had lavishly made use of two,
In high contempt of rules.
Whose conversation was concise,
Train'd up in rigid schools;
Once, when a single word would do,
Had lavishly made use of two,
In high contempt of rules.
A bill against him was preferr'd,
The charge by evidence averr'd,
That fully prov'd the fact:
The judges aggravate the crime,
In words as few, and little time,
As answer'd men compact.
The charge by evidence averr'd,
That fully prov'd the fact:
The judges aggravate the crime,
In words as few, and little time,
As answer'd men compact.
Quoth one, “The being too verbose
A misdemeanor is so gross,
Of that pernicious kind!
The punishment must reach your sense,
And reason smart for this offence,
By torturing your mind.
A misdemeanor is so gross,
Of that pernicious kind!
The punishment must reach your sense,
And reason smart for this offence,
By torturing your mind.
“Read Jura Populi o'er twice,
Pittis and Bunyan, books of price,
And Oats's modest vein:
Read Baxter's volumes, Tindal's works,
Yorkshire Petish with that of Bucks,
True cant and libel strain,
Pittis and Bunyan, books of price,
And Oats's modest vein:
Read Baxter's volumes, Tindal's works,
Yorkshire Petish with that of Bucks,
True cant and libel strain,
“For solid nonsense, thoughtless words
The Vindication of the Lords,
That answers Mackworth's State:
Read first and second paragraph,
If possible drudge on through half,
Your crime you'll expiate.”
The Vindication of the Lords,
That answers Mackworth's State:
Read first and second paragraph,
If possible drudge on through half,
Your crime you'll expiate.”
The wretch with strong convulsions shook,
Despair and anguish in his look,
To Heaven for mercy cry'd:
Quoth he, “Send gibbets, racks, or wheel,
Algiers and gallies please me well,
Such torments I'll abide.
Despair and anguish in his look,
To Heaven for mercy cry'd:
Quoth he, “Send gibbets, racks, or wheel,
Algiers and gallies please me well,
Such torments I'll abide.
“But damn me not for one offence,
To volumes unally'd to sense,
Vainly to waste my breath:
That answer to the Commons' Rights
With labour'd dullness so affrights,
The thoughts are worse than death.”
To volumes unally'd to sense,
Vainly to waste my breath:
That answer to the Commons' Rights
With labour'd dullness so affrights,
The thoughts are worse than death.”
| The poems of Dr. Yalden | |