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 XXI.
TO MYSELF.
The exalted Peter wisheth to make the gaping World acquainted with the Place of his Nativity; but before he can get an Answer from himself, he most sublimely bursteth forth into an Address to Mevagizzy and Mousehole, two Fishing towns in Cornwall—the first celebrated for Pilchards, the last for giving Birth to Dolly Pentreath —The Poet praiseth the Honourable Daines Barrington and Pilchards—Forgetteth the Place of his Nativity; and, like his great Ancestor of Thebes, leaveth his Readers in the dark.
Defy the rudest rage of Time,
Say!—for the world is with conjecture dizzy,
Did Mousehole give thee birth, or Mevagizzy?
Where boats, and men, and stinks, and trade, are stirring;
Where pilchards come in myriads to be caught!
Pilchards! a thousand times as good as herring.
Hail, little instrument of vast salvation!
Pilchard, I ween, a most soul-saving fish,
On which the Catholics in Lent are cramm'd;
Who, had they not, poor souls, this lucky dish,
Would flesh eat, and be consequently damn'd.
And make the London lamps at midnight smile;
Which lamps, wide spreading salutary light,
Beam on the wandering beauties of the night,
And show each gentle youth their cheeks' deep roses,
And tell him whether they have eyes and noses.
The last who jabber'd Cornish—so says Daines,
Who, bat-like, haunted ruins, lane, and heath,
With Will-o'-wisp, to brighten up his brains.
For bones, brass farthings, ashes, and old pots,
To prove that folks of old, like us, were made
With heads, eyes, hands, and toes, to drive a trade.
A very old woman of Mousehole, supposed (falsely, however,) to have been the last who spoke the Cornish language. The honourable antiquarian, Daines Barrington, Esq. journeyed, some years since, from London to the Land's-end, to converse with this wrinkled, yet delicious, morceau. He entered Mousehole in a kind of triumph, and, peeping into her hut, exclaimed, with all the fire of an enraptured lover, in the language of the famous Greek philosopher—‘Eureka!’ The couple kissed—Doll soon after gabbled—Daines listened with admiration—committed her speeches to paper, not venturing to trust his memory with so much treasure. The transaction was announced to the Society—the Journals were enriched with their dialogues—the old lady's picture was ordered to be taken by the most eminent artist, and the honourable member to be publicly thanked for the discovery!
The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] | ||