The Poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed With a Memoir by the Rev. Derwent Coleridge. Fourth Edition. In Two Volumes |
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 | The Poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed |  |
249
A FABLE.
TO HIS ELDEST SISTER ON HER BIRTHDAY.
Virtue, (a nymph you well must know,)
Met gently warbling Erato:
And after bows, and “how d'ye do” s,
She thus addressed the smiling Muse:
“How is it,—tell me, Erato,—
That you and I such strangers grow?
If at your Mount my foot I set,
Flat ‘Not at home’ is all I get:
When first you called a meeting there,
And Phœbus deigned to take the chair,
The sire of men, of gods the king,
Your patron, Jove,—he bade you sing
Not those who in false glory shine,
But those who bow to Virtue's shrine;
And scorn you Jove? For now I deem
That Virtue is your rarest theme!
Calliope, when war she sings,
Forgets the truth to flatter kings;
Euterpe thinks me low and mean,
Thalia drives me from her scene,
Melpomene like Folly rants,
Dishonest Clio scrawls romance;
E'en your own soft enticing measure
Has left poor me, and flows for Pleasure.”
Met gently warbling Erato:
And after bows, and “how d'ye do” s,
She thus addressed the smiling Muse:
“How is it,—tell me, Erato,—
That you and I such strangers grow?
If at your Mount my foot I set,
Flat ‘Not at home’ is all I get:
When first you called a meeting there,
And Phœbus deigned to take the chair,
The sire of men, of gods the king,
Your patron, Jove,—he bade you sing
Not those who in false glory shine,
But those who bow to Virtue's shrine;
And scorn you Jove? For now I deem
That Virtue is your rarest theme!
Calliope, when war she sings,
Forgets the truth to flatter kings;
Euterpe thinks me low and mean,
Thalia drives me from her scene,
250
Dishonest Clio scrawls romance;
E'en your own soft enticing measure
Has left poor me, and flows for Pleasure.”
“Cease your upbraidings,” cries the Muse:
“An ear at least you can't refuse:
I'll answer you for all the Nine;
The few who bow at Virtue's shrine
Are better pleased with artless praise
Than all the force of studied lays.
The page of silver flowing rhyme
May hide a fault, or gild a crime;
But you, and those who choose your part,
Require the language of the heart;
And such will smile and read with pleasure,
If 'tis sincere, a doggrel measure;
Though only on the page they view
Congratulation—and Adieu!
“An ear at least you can't refuse:
I'll answer you for all the Nine;
The few who bow at Virtue's shrine
Are better pleased with artless praise
Than all the force of studied lays.
The page of silver flowing rhyme
May hide a fault, or gild a crime;
But you, and those who choose your part,
Require the language of the heart;
And such will smile and read with pleasure,
If 'tis sincere, a doggrel measure;
Though only on the page they view
Congratulation—and Adieu!
1817.
| The Poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed | |