Horace in London Consisting of imitations of the first two books of the odes of Horace. By the authors of the rejected addresses, or the new theatrum poetarum [Horace and James Smith] |
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| XX. | ODE XX. THE LYRICAL LACKEY.
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 | Horace in London |  |
171
ODE XX. THE LYRICAL LACKEY.
Non usitatâ nec tenui ferar.
Stand clear! and let a poet fly:
On this wing lyric,
That satyric,
I'll mount, like Garnerin, the sky,
Nor mope in Grub Street garret:
Though lowly born, I'll fear discard,
My polish'd odes
To gay abodes
Shall bowl me, like a merry bard,
To sing and tipple claret.
On this wing lyric,
That satyric,
I'll mount, like Garnerin, the sky,
Nor mope in Grub Street garret:
Though lowly born, I'll fear discard,
My polish'd odes
To gay abodes
Shall bowl me, like a merry bard,
To sing and tipple claret.
172
Enroll'd among the black leg race,
No longer man,
A milk-white swan,
Aloft my airy course I trace,
And mount o'er London city—
On wings of foolscap, wire-wove, glaz'd,
Thro' margin wide,
Serene I glide,
Whilst long-ear'd citizens amazed,
Cry “bravo” at my ditty.
No longer man,
A milk-white swan,
Aloft my airy course I trace,
And mount o'er London city—
On wings of foolscap, wire-wove, glaz'd,
Thro' margin wide,
Serene I glide,
Whilst long-ear'd citizens amazed,
Cry “bravo” at my ditty.
Trotting thro' Pindus flow'ry path,
In waltzes, reels,
I'll shake my heels,
I'll dip at Brighton, sip at Bath,
And doff my suit of sables—
Tall Tully of a Spouting Club,
I'll mimic Pitt
In all but wit,
And cut the Diogenic tub,
For Alexandrine tables.
In waltzes, reels,
I'll shake my heels,
I'll dip at Brighton, sip at Bath,
And doff my suit of sables—
Tall Tully of a Spouting Club,
I'll mimic Pitt
In all but wit,
And cut the Diogenic tub,
For Alexandrine tables.
173
Tho' all the while my proper self
Is snug at home,
My pen shall roam
A modish tour in quest of pelf,
And scorning critic cavils,
I'll visit Egypt, Florence, Greece,
And then return,
Thro' Basle and Berne,
The London Booksellers to fleece,
And sell John Bull my travels.
Is snug at home,
My pen shall roam
A modish tour in quest of pelf,
And scorning critic cavils,
I'll visit Egypt, Florence, Greece,
And then return,
Thro' Basle and Berne,
The London Booksellers to fleece,
And sell John Bull my travels.
Of epics, I'll compose a few;
The vile reviews,
I'll ne'er peruse;
I'll edit bards I never knew:
I'll catch at all commissions:
Like Harlequin, tho' far more plump,
My tricks I'll play,
Then hey! away!
Bounce at a single leap, I'll jump
Thro' half a score editions!
The vile reviews,
I'll ne'er peruse;
I'll edit bards I never knew:
I'll catch at all commissions:
Like Harlequin, tho' far more plump,
My tricks I'll play,
Then hey! away!
Bounce at a single leap, I'll jump
Thro' half a score editions!
| Horace in London | |