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The Poems of John Byrom

Edited by Adolphus William Ward

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TO LADY B--- W---,
  
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382

TO LADY B--- W---,

Upon her presenting the Author with the Moiety of a Lottery-Ticket.


383

I

This Ticket is to be divided”.—Well;
To Lady Betty let these Presents tell
How much I value, Chances all apart,
This gentle token of her friendly Heart!
Without regard to Prizes or to Blanks,
My Obligation is immediate Thanks;
And here they come as hearty and as free,
As this unlook'd-for Favour came to me.

384

II

“Five Thousand Pounds, perhaps, a handsome Sum!”
Ay, but in Specie Five may never come!
That, as you please, Dame Fortune! In my Mind
I have already taken it in kind;
Am quite contented with my present Lot,
Whether you're pleas'd to second it, or not.
Chance is but Chance, however great or small;
The Spirit of a loving Gift is all.

III

Three Tickets offer'd, to make choice of one,
And write the Memorandum thereupon,
Spread in successive order as they lie:—
“May all be Prizes, for her sake,” thought I.
That upon which my Fancy chose to fix,
Was (let me see) Four hundred fifty-six:
Four, five, and six—they are, if I can read,
Numbers that regularly should succeed.

IV

Thou backward Fortune, that in Days of Yore
Hast read from six to five, from five to four,
Once, for the Lady's sake, reverse thy Spite,
And trace a luckier Circle to the right!
If thou art angry that I should despise
Thy Gifts, which never dazzl'd much my Eyes;
Now speak me fair, nor let th' Occasion slip
Of such an honourable Partnership!

385

V

Stand still a Moment on thy Bridge's Pier,
And the Conditions of Success let's hear;
Say what the Bard shall offer at thy Shrine,—
Any thing less than Worship,—and 'tis thine!
If not so quite (as they relate thee) blind,
See both our Names, which thus together join'd,
I'd rather share Ten Thousand Pounds, I own,
Than court thee for ten Millions alone!

VI

“Thousands and Millions, Sir, are pompous Sounds
For Poets, seldom conversant in Pounds.”—
Yes; but I'm only looking on th' Event
As corresponding to a kind Intent.
Should it turn out its Thousands, more or less,
I should be somewhat puzzl'd, I profess,
And must upon a Case so new, so nice,
Fly to my Benefactress for Advice.

VII

“What shall I do with such a monstrous Prize?”
But we'll postpone the Question, till it rise;

386

Let its Tomorrow manage that!—Today,
Accept the Thanks which I am bound to pay:
Enrich'd, if you permit me still to share
Your wish of Welfare, and your gen'rous Care!
The greatest Bliss, if I have any Skill,
Of human Life is mutual Good-will.

VIII

This, without Question, has your Hand confest;
This, without Flatt'ry, warms a willing Breast;
So much good Nature shown with so much Ease,
Bestow your Sums, Dame Fortune, where you please!
That kind of Satisfaction which I feel,
Comes not within the Compass of your Wheel;
No Prize can heighten the unpurchas'd Grace,
Nor Blanks the grateful Sentiments efface.