The poems and literary prose of Alexander Wilson ... for the first time fully collected and compared with the original and early editions ... edited ... by the Rev. Alexander B. Grosart ... with portrait, illustrations, &c |
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A CHARACTER. |
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 | The poems and literary prose of Alexander Wilson |  |
245
A CHARACTER.
Austerio, an insipid senseless old wretch,
Who all the whole morn in his bed lies a-snoring;
By cheating and lying has made himself rich,
And spends the whole night o'er his papers a-poring.
Who all the whole morn in his bed lies a-snoring;
By cheating and lying has made himself rich,
And spends the whole night o'er his papers a-poring.
He tosses, he tumbles, and rolls in his bed,
Like a swine in her stye, or a door on its hinges;
When his landlady calls him he lifts up his head,
Damns her haste, rubs his eyes, and most lazily whinges.
Like a swine in her stye, or a door on its hinges;
When his landlady calls him he lifts up his head,
Damns her haste, rubs his eyes, and most lazily whinges.
Then groans out, ‘Bring here my warm'd breeches and shirts,
And launches one dirty bare leg from the sheeting;
Cleans his jaws from a deluge of ugly brown squirts,
Draws a chair, and prepares, gracious heaven! for eating.
And launches one dirty bare leg from the sheeting;
Cleans his jaws from a deluge of ugly brown squirts,
Draws a chair, and prepares, gracious heaven! for eating.
All day with a fist in each pocket he walks,
With the air of a goose, from one shop to another;
Of caption and horning eternally talks,
For he'd damn to a jail and starvation his brother.
With the air of a goose, from one shop to another;
Of caption and horning eternally talks,
For he'd damn to a jail and starvation his brother.
Some folk, ere they swear to the value or price,
Consult with their conscience, lest they prove uncivil;
But ------, when he sells, (for he ne'er was too nice)
Confers with his rev'rend old partner—the devil,
Consult with their conscience, lest they prove uncivil;
But ------, when he sells, (for he ne'er was too nice)
Confers with his rev'rend old partner—the devil,
If Horns, with a grin, whisper into his ear,
‘My boy, raise thy arm, or by Jove, they'll us cozen;
By the heav'ns, or earth, or by anything swear’—
He'll swear oath for oath for a sixpence a dozen.
‘My boy, raise thy arm, or by Jove, they'll us cozen;
By the heav'ns, or earth, or by anything swear’—
He'll swear oath for oath for a sixpence a dozen.
| The poems and literary prose of Alexander Wilson | |