The Poetical Works of The Rev. Samuel Bishop ... To Which are Prefixed, Memoirs of the Life of the Author By the Rev. Thomas Clare |
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 | The Poetical Works of The Rev. Samuel Bishop |  |
11
TO MISS DICKINS,
WITH A PRESENT OF MOORE'S FABLES.
Books, my dear Girl, when well design'd,
Are moral Maps of human kind;
Where, sketch'd before judicious eyes,
The Road to Worth and Wisdom lies.
Are moral Maps of human kind;
Where, sketch'd before judicious eyes,
The Road to Worth and Wisdom lies.
Severe Philosophy portrays
The steep, the rough, the thorny ways:
The steep, the rough, the thorny ways:
Cross woods and wilds, the Learned Tribe
A dark and doubtful path describe:
A dark and doubtful path describe:
But Poesy her votaries leads
O'er level lawns, and verdant meads;
And if perchance, in sportful vein,
Thro' Fable's scenes she guide her train,
All is at once enchanted ground,
All Fancy's Garden glitters round.
O'er level lawns, and verdant meads;
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Thro' Fable's scenes she guide her train,
All is at once enchanted ground,
All Fancy's Garden glitters round.
I, Sally! (who shall long to see
In you, how good your Sex can be)
Before you range with curious speed,
Where'er that Garden's beauties lead,
And mark how Moore could once display
A scene so varied, and so gay,
Beg you, for introduction's sake,
A short excursive trip to make
O'er one poor plat, unlike the rest,
Which my more humble care hath drest:
Where, if a little flow'ret blows,
From pure Affection's root it grows.
In you, how good your Sex can be)
Before you range with curious speed,
Where'er that Garden's beauties lead,
And mark how Moore could once display
A scene so varied, and so gay,
Beg you, for introduction's sake,
A short excursive trip to make
O'er one poor plat, unlike the rest,
Which my more humble care hath drest:
Where, if a little flow'ret blows,
From pure Affection's root it grows.
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A Virgin Rose, in all the pride
Of Spring's luxuriant blushes dy'd,
Above the vulgar Flowers was rais'd,
And with excess of lustre blaz'd.—
Of Spring's luxuriant blushes dy'd,
Above the vulgar Flowers was rais'd,
And with excess of lustre blaz'd.—
In full career of heedless play,
Chance brought a Butterfly that way;
She stopt at once her giddy flight,
Proud on so sweet a spot to light;
Spread wide her plumage to the sun,
And thus in saucy strain begun:
Chance brought a Butterfly that way;
She stopt at once her giddy flight,
Proud on so sweet a spot to light;
Spread wide her plumage to the sun,
And thus in saucy strain begun:
“Why, but to soften my repose,
“Could Nature rear so bright a Rose?
“Why, but on Roses to recline,
“Make forms so delicate as mine?
“Fate destin'd by the same decree,
“Me for the Rose; the Rose for me.”
“Could Nature rear so bright a Rose?
“Why, but on Roses to recline,
“Make forms so delicate as mine?
“Fate destin'd by the same decree,
“Me for the Rose; the Rose for me.”
A tiny Bug, who close between
The unfolding bloom had lurk'd unseen,
Heard, and in angry tone addrest
This rude invader of his nest:
The unfolding bloom had lurk'd unseen,
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This rude invader of his nest:
“For thee, consummate fool, the Rose!
“No—to a nobler end it blows:—
“The velvet o'er it's foliage spread
“Secures to me, a downy bed:
“So thick it's crowding leaves ascend,
“To hide, to warm me, and defend:
“For me those odours they exhale,
“Which scent at second hand the gale;
“And give such Things as thee to share,
“What my superior claim can spare!”
“No—to a nobler end it blows:—
“The velvet o'er it's foliage spread
“Secures to me, a downy bed:
“So thick it's crowding leaves ascend,
“To hide, to warm me, and defend:
“For me those odours they exhale,
“Which scent at second hand the gale;
“And give such Things as thee to share,
“What my superior claim can spare!”
While thus the quarrel they pursu'd,
A Bee the petty triflers view'd;
For once, reluctant, rais'd her head
A moment from her toil; and said;
A Bee the petty triflers view'd;
For once, reluctant, rais'd her head
A moment from her toil; and said;
“Cease, abject animals, to contest!
“They claim things most, who use them best.
“Would Nature finish Works like these,
“That Butterflies might bask at ease?
“Or Bugs intrench'd in splendor lie,
“Born but to crawl, and doze, and die?
“The Rose you vainly ramble o'er,
“Breaths balmy dews from every pore;
“Which yield their treasur'd sweets alone
“To skill and labour like my own:
“With sense as keen as yours, I trace
“Th' expanding blossom's glossy grace;
“It's shape, it's fragrance, and it's hue;
“But while I trace, improve them too:
“Still taste; but still, from hour to hour,
“Bear home new Honey, from the flow'r.”
Conceit may read for mere pretence;
“They claim things most, who use them best.
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“That Butterflies might bask at ease?
“Or Bugs intrench'd in splendor lie,
“Born but to crawl, and doze, and die?
“The Rose you vainly ramble o'er,
“Breaths balmy dews from every pore;
“Which yield their treasur'd sweets alone
“To skill and labour like my own:
“With sense as keen as yours, I trace
“Th' expanding blossom's glossy grace;
“It's shape, it's fragrance, and it's hue;
“But while I trace, improve them too:
“Still taste; but still, from hour to hour,
“Bear home new Honey, from the flow'r.”
For mere amusement, Indolence;
True Spirit deems no study right,
Till Profit dignify Delight.
| The Poetical Works of The Rev. Samuel Bishop | |