Poems on Various Subjects with some Essays in Prose, Letters to Correspondents, &c. and A Treatise on Health. By Samuel Bowden |
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 | Poems on Various Subjects |  |
Thou upstart son, of mungril race,
Presume not to usurp my place.
From antient, royal lineage born,
Thy mean original I scorn.
In bright, hereditary line,
Th' immortal race of Huck-mucks shine.
My antient pedigree I hold,
From fam'd Diogenes of old;
Only this difference is observ'd,
I thrive, and fatten, where he starv'd.
The Cynic snarl'd in empty cell,
While I in plenteous moisture dwell;
And revel oft' from morn to night,
Like Bacchus in distended plight.
Presume not to usurp my place.
From antient, royal lineage born,
Thy mean original I scorn.
320
Th' immortal race of Huck-mucks shine.
My antient pedigree I hold,
From fam'd Diogenes of old;
Only this difference is observ'd,
I thrive, and fatten, where he starv'd.
The Cynic snarl'd in empty cell,
While I in plenteous moisture dwell;
And revel oft' from morn to night,
Like Bacchus in distended plight.
Secur'd by right divine, I reign
O'er every tributary grain:
Millions of subjects round me throng,
And pay me tribute, right, or wrong.
And tho' they oft' rebel, and jar,
Fermenting with intestine war,
Yet soon with spunging power I quell
All insurrections in my cell;
And drain my subjects vital sap,
At my old custom-house, the tap.
The juice which slakes a monarch's thirst,
Is thro' my vessels filter'd first.
Round me in daily sacrifice,
Sweet clouds of smoaking incense rise;
While from my fountain-head below,
Rich tides of fragrant liquor flow.
O'er every tributary grain:
Millions of subjects round me throng,
And pay me tribute, right, or wrong.
And tho' they oft' rebel, and jar,
Fermenting with intestine war,
Yet soon with spunging power I quell
All insurrections in my cell;
And drain my subjects vital sap,
At my old custom-house, the tap.
The juice which slakes a monarch's thirst,
Is thro' my vessels filter'd first.
Round me in daily sacrifice,
Sweet clouds of smoaking incense rise;
While from my fountain-head below,
Rich tides of fragrant liquor flow.
321
Of portly, and majestic size,
Thy taper structure I despise.
Shall such a mean, Plebeian scrub,
Reign in the palace of my tub?
Vile offspring thou, of bending broom,
Or humble heath, shalt thou presume
T' invade my old paternal throne,
Who hast no title of thy own?
While I from loftier trees high-born,
Regard thy reptile race with scorn.
No more my awful sceptre brave,
Fit implement of every slave;
Thy servile drudgery I disdain,
Go sweep the kitchen which I stain.
Thy taper structure I despise.
Shall such a mean, Plebeian scrub,
Reign in the palace of my tub?
Vile offspring thou, of bending broom,
Or humble heath, shalt thou presume
T' invade my old paternal throne,
Who hast no title of thy own?
While I from loftier trees high-born,
Regard thy reptile race with scorn.
No more my awful sceptre brave,
Fit implement of every slave;
Thy servile drudgery I disdain,
Go sweep the kitchen which I stain.
| Poems on Various Subjects | |