The Poems of John Byrom :: :: University of Virginia Library

“Dear Byrom, I have sent you a hare that was alive this day. You must remember that formerly a Toft Hare would have produced a copy of Verses, and I hope that you still like Hares as well as I do Verses. Be that as it will, I shall be glad to hear in Verse or Prose that you are as well as I could wish you to be. I grow old, stir little from home, and lament that I am not able to put myself in your way s' oft as in former days.

“With kind love to yourself and family, I remain, yours most affectionately,

R. Leycester.

“You find K. George and Mr. Pitt are the present darlings of this nation. Such strange alterations happen everywhere that I shall be surprised at nothing.

To Dr. Byrom, at Manchester.”

“Killed 13th November.”

I

Dear Peter, this tells you as soon as it could,
That the Hare, which you sent us, was tender and good;
And we send you thanks for it.—You say, “a Toft Hare
Was wont to produce a Verse-copied Affair:”
Which is true in the main; but Philosophers oft
Give Effects to wrong Causes. It neither was Toft
Nor Hare that was really productive of Metre,
But,—as here you may see by Self-evidence,—Peter.

249

II

The Hare was no more than occasional Item,
That if Verses were willing, one might as well write 'em;
And Toft, tho' within but a few Mille Passus,
Was as fit for the Purpose as foreign Parnassus.
Its good-natur'd Owner was proximate Cause
Of the free-flowing Rime and its modified Pause,—
The Phœbus, at whose Innuendo the Muse
Her Assistance, jam nunc, knows not how to refuse.

III

Still, it seems, “you like Verse, as you hope I like Hare.”
Ay, for Intercourse' sake; not the worth of the Ware!
Shops would answer your Taste with a much better Line,
And Shambles with full as good Provender mine.
Nay, if one should reflect upon Cruelty's Source
In the Gentlemen Butchers, the Hunt, and the Course,

250

'Twere enough to prevent either Pudding or Jelly
From storing such Carcass within a Man's Belly!

IV

Still I think of old Elwall, invited to sup
At your Chester Abode, when a Hare was cut up,
How he gave me this Answer, concerning this Prog:
“Dost thou ever eat Hare?”—“Dost thou ever eat Dog?”—
Don't think that hereby one intends to degrade
The Presentment, Sir Peter, which now you have made;
I would only suggest that the Thanks which I render,
Stand up on their Feet not to Hare, but Hare-sender;

251

V

Whose Case you describe so exactly like mine,
That it runneth almost in a parallel Line.
You “grow old:”—I grow older;—“stir little from home:”—
I less, and abroad more unable to roam;—
You “lament that you cannot come in a Friend's way,
As you formerly could:”—the same also I say.
Now, the Case being common, how should it affect us,
Seeing, “Aliter non fit avite Senectus?”

VI

With Gratitude, first, as I take it;—a Truth
Which is common, indeed, both to Age, and to Youth.
But, if Youth has neglected to fill up that Page,
—My case!—it belongs to Executor Age
To supply the defect which, tho' negligent, still
We suppose the said Youth to have had in its Will.
Old Senectus is tied, then, for Benefits lent us,
To pay the just Debts of Testator Juventus.

VII

With Temperance, next;—since if Gratitude binds,
For the sake of past Youth, our Senescenter Minds,
They must, in a Body more subject to Phthisic,
Guard against all Excess, and turn Food into Physic.
One sees how corpuscular Eating and Drinking
Make Youth in its Mentals so stout and unthinking;
Age, therefore, altho' not so paunchful or pateful,
Will be much better off, being sober and grateful;—

252

VIII

Two Helps, without which the mere animal Pow'r
In young or old Blood grows insipid or sour.
If the two Ventilators of Life do not mix,
Old Age would, I find, be as cross as two Sticks.
O grant me, ye Pow'rs both of Verse and of Prose,
To be thoughtful and thankful, choose how the World goes,—
Not, tho' the old Man should become twice a Child,
To be peevish and fretful, but placid and mild!

IX

Now, as touching K. George, and his Pensioner Pitt,
Your two present Darlings of national Wit,
And the strange Alterations that seem in your Eyes
So great, as if nothing henceforth could surprise:—
If you have not yet seen Men and Matters so vary,
As to bring you, before, to a “Nil admirari”
In this changeable Island, one need not be told
That you are but a Youngster, but newly grown old.

X

What a Pleasure to come has our Coming to Age,
To emancipate Thought from so shifting a Stage;

253

And to fix it on Matters that will, in all Cases,
Stand firm on their solid, immoveable Bases,—
Real Objects! Your Epitaph, else, on the Hare,
“Kill'd November 13th,” is but one of a Pair
With a poor hunted Peer's, “Decollat. such a Day;”
What more than the Puss has the Peerage, I pray?

XI

It would else be too true, what comes into my Mind,
How our old Master Bentley divided Mankind.
He was talking of Short-Hand, and how an erroneous
“Natare” the Blockheads had made Suëtonius
To write, for “Notare;”—the World, he then said,
Was made up of two Sorts, “Worriérs, Worriéd.”

254

Dick, he told me, should learn, and amidst the World's Hurry,
As the potenter Choice, be a Lawyer and “worry.”

XII

You see now, old Friend, how intentional Aim
Sets out to comply with your Copyhold Claim;
And how Age would run on, if the Muse did not fix
The Rhythmus of Dactyls to ninety-and-six,
And prompt, what the Household requires me to add:
That to hear of Toft Welfare they always are glad,
Being always possess'd of a competent Stock
“Of the best of good Wishes for all your whole Flock.”