The Works of Mr. Robert Gould In Two Volumes. Consisting of those Poems [and] Satyrs Which were formerly Printed, and Corrected since by the Author; As also of the many more which He Design'd for the Press. Publish'd from his Own Original Copies [by Robert Gould] |
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To my Lord Chamberlain at Bath.
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 | The Works of Mr. Robert Gould |  |
To my Lord Chamberlain at Bath.
This healing Stream, this Æsculapian spring,
That from all Parts does such a Confluence bring,
Of Lame and Blind, of Sound and Sick and Sore,
Of Knave and Fool, and worse, of Baud and Whore;
Tho' Wonders it is sometimes said to do,
Does yet confine those Wonders to a few:
Yet vainly all expect to have a Share,
The Rotten wou'd be sound, the Foul be fair;
The wrinkled Beldam wou'd new Pleasure prove,
And, like a Punk of Twenty, chatters Love.
That from all Parts does such a Confluence bring,
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Of Knave and Fool, and worse, of Baud and Whore;
Tho' Wonders it is sometimes said to do,
Does yet confine those Wonders to a few:
Yet vainly all expect to have a Share,
The Rotten wou'd be sound, the Foul be fair;
The wrinkled Beldam wou'd new Pleasure prove,
And, like a Punk of Twenty, chatters Love.
The stale debilitated Lover here
Expects Relief, and gazing on the Fair,
Feels Heat return; but 'tis so false a Fire,
It never reaches further than Desire.
How madly does that Man his Hours employ
That still does wish and never can enjoy?
That past the Fact, is yet not past the Fau't,
And damns himself by being lewd in Thought?
Expects Relief, and gazing on the Fair,
Feels Heat return; but 'tis so false a Fire,
It never reaches further than Desire.
How madly does that Man his Hours employ
That still does wish and never can enjoy?
That past the Fact, is yet not past the Fau't,
And damns himself by being lewd in Thought?
Then for the Coxcombs (not to name their Cloaths,
Their Dancing, Raffling, Drinking, Noise and Oaths)
Their Treats and Entertainments make it plain,
They come alike to be reliev'd in vain.
It never was presum'd that bathing yet
Reform'd a Fool, and made him grow a Wit.
Tho' Thousands have been eas'd of Cramps and Pains,
Of Palsies, Itches, Botches, Scurfs and Blains,
If fails when the Distemper's in the Brains.
Their Dancing, Raffling, Drinking, Noise and Oaths)
Their Treats and Entertainments make it plain,
They come alike to be reliev'd in vain.
It never was presum'd that bathing yet
Reform'd a Fool, and made him grow a Wit.
Tho' Thousands have been eas'd of Cramps and Pains,
Of Palsies, Itches, Botches, Scurfs and Blains,
If fails when the Distemper's in the Brains.
But tho' the Fops are thus deceiv'd we find
The fruitful Stream to youthful Ladies kind;
Who with their open Breasts and swimming Bowls,
(As others Angle Gudgeons) fish for Fools;
Here still at Hand, and careless of their Fate,
You'll find a Hundred biting at a Bait:
And oft indeed, the Bait is not so small,
But there's enough to satisfy 'em all.
This for the Glory of the WATER makes,
Which hence it's kind prolifick Nature takes.
Oft has the Lady (her good Man at Home,
Invoking Heav'n to unseal her steril Womb)
Here first conceiv'd; then to her Husband flown
With hast, to keep the Theft from being known,
While he thought all was well, and all his own.
A Fortnights time in reck'ning breaks no Squares,
Or, if it shou'd, 'twere a bad Day for Heirs.
The fruitful Stream to youthful Ladies kind;
Who with their open Breasts and swimming Bowls,
(As others Angle Gudgeons) fish for Fools;
Here still at Hand, and careless of their Fate,
You'll find a Hundred biting at a Bait:
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But there's enough to satisfy 'em all.
This for the Glory of the WATER makes,
Which hence it's kind prolifick Nature takes.
Oft has the Lady (her good Man at Home,
Invoking Heav'n to unseal her steril Womb)
Here first conceiv'd; then to her Husband flown
With hast, to keep the Theft from being known,
While he thought all was well, and all his own.
A Fortnights time in reck'ning breaks no Squares,
Or, if it shou'd, 'twere a bad Day for Heirs.
But now some Lady, that's ador'd the most,
Is chosen out to be that Morning's Toast:
For her the Musick plays; the Health's go round
The Toast! the Toast!—and stun us with the sound:
She all the while, kind Nymph, the Gallery plies,
And with admiring meets admiring Eyes;
Proud of the Honour thus to rule the Roast
She swims along the Bath—the Toast, the Toast!
Pity they wou'd not one step higher go,
And drink the Liquor it was soakt in too.
Who wou'd comply with such a nauseous Fashion,
And rather not, with Lear, call out in Passion
For Civit to refresh the Imagination?
Is chosen out to be that Morning's Toast:
For her the Musick plays; the Health's go round
The Toast! the Toast!—and stun us with the sound:
She all the while, kind Nymph, the Gallery plies,
And with admiring meets admiring Eyes;
Proud of the Honour thus to rule the Roast
She swims along the Bath—the Toast, the Toast!
Pity they wou'd not one step higher go,
And drink the Liquor it was soakt in too.
Who wou'd comply with such a nauseous Fashion,
And rather not, with Lear, call out in Passion
For Civit to refresh the Imagination?
But while my Mind thus freely I express,
I have forgot to whom I make Address.
Pardon, my Lord, that thus I entertain
Your Ears with things ridiculous and vain,
And idly tread the Satyr's thorny Ways,
When Dorset was so just a Theme for Praise.
I have forgot to whom I make Address.
Pardon, my Lord, that thus I entertain
Your Ears with things ridiculous and vain,
And idly tread the Satyr's thorny Ways,
When Dorset was so just a Theme for Praise.
| The Works of Mr. Robert Gould | |