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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[Whate'er from dirty Thames to Margate goes] |
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The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] | ||
[Whate'er from dirty Thames to Margate goes]
Whate'er from dirty Thames to Margate goes;
However foul, immediately turns fair!
Whatever filth offends the London nose,
Acquires a fragrance soon from Margate air.
However foul, immediately turns fair!
Whatever filth offends the London nose,
Acquires a fragrance soon from Margate air.
Ev'n Rose's news-hunters, his scandal-crimps,
Are chang'd to wits, so great are Margate-pow'rs;
Yes! his poor trumpeters, the noisy imps,
Become sweet Philomels, in Margate bow'rs!
Are chang'd to wits, so great are Margate-pow'rs;
Yes! his poor trumpeters, the noisy imps,
Become sweet Philomels, in Margate bow'rs!
The tailor here, the port of Mars assumes:
Who cross-legg'd sat in silence on his board—
Forgets his goose, and rag-besprinkled rooms,
And thread and thimble, and now struts a lord!
Who cross-legg'd sat in silence on his board—
Forgets his goose, and rag-besprinkled rooms,
And thread and thimble, and now struts a lord!
A sow's ear cannot make a purse of silk;
We cannot to a whale convert the shrimp.
What folly too to put out each poor imp
To nurses yielding not one drop of milk.
We cannot to a whale convert the shrimp.
What folly too to put out each poor imp
To nurses yielding not one drop of milk.
Then prithee for thy papers sigh no more—
So worthless, for oblivion they are ripe;
Peace to their slumber, as their date is o'er—
Peace to their ashes, as they light my pipe.
So worthless, for oblivion they are ripe;
Peace to their slumber, as their date is o'er—
Peace to their ashes, as they light my pipe.
11
Here Crispin too forgets his end, and awl—
Here Mistress Cleaver with importance looks;
Forgets the beef and mutton on her stall,
And lights and livers dangling from the hooks.
Here Mistress Cleaver with importance looks;
Forgets the beef and mutton on her stall,
And lights and livers dangling from the hooks.
Here Mistress Tap, from pewter pots withdrawn,
Walks forth in all the pride of paunch and geer;
Mounts her swoln heels on Dandelion's lawn,
And at the ball-room heaves her heavy rear.
Walks forth in all the pride of paunch and geer;
Mounts her swoln heels on Dandelion's lawn,
And at the ball-room heaves her heavy rear.
Chang'd by their travels—mounted high in soul,
Here Suds forgets whate'er remembrance shocks;
And Mistress Suds forgetteth too the pole,
Wigs, bob and pigtail, basons, razors, blocks!
Here Suds forgets whate'er remembrance shocks;
And Mistress Suds forgetteth too the pole,
Wigs, bob and pigtail, basons, razors, blocks!
Here too the most important Dicky Dab
With puppy-pertness, pretty, pleasant prig
Forgets the narrow, fishy house of crab,
And drives in Jehu-style his whirling gig!
With puppy-pertness, pretty, pleasant prig
Forgets the narrow, fishy house of crab,
And drives in Jehu-style his whirling gig!
And here 'midst all such consequence am I
The poet! semper idem—just the same—
Bidding old Satire's hawk at follies fly,
To fill the shops of booksellers with game.
The poet! semper idem—just the same—
Bidding old Satire's hawk at follies fly,
To fill the shops of booksellers with game.
The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] | ||