A postscript to the new Bath guide A Poem by Anthony Pasquin [i.e. John Williams] |
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| XIV. | LETTER XIV. Horace Peery, Esq; to Bob Classic, at Oxford. |
 | A postscript to the new Bath guide |  |
139
LETTER XIV. Horace Peery, Esq; to Bob Classic, at Oxford.
A Description of the Ball for the Master of the Ceremonies, and the Company.
All hail happy Bath and its wonderful Waters!
That to God's visitations would never give quarters;
See Malady shrinks—who rode post to infect us,
As the Demon retires when Randolphs correct us.
That to God's visitations would never give quarters;
See Malady shrinks—who rode post to infect us,
As the Demon retires when Randolphs correct us.
It is said that when Hogarth, who sported with Nature,
Drew the outréd contour of a prominent feature,
The curious not long o'er the portraiture hover'd—
Be it nose, chin, or eyebrow, the end was discover'd:
Though the points of the fool were but partially shewn,
His intent was embrac'd, and the dolt was well known.
Drew the outréd contour of a prominent feature,
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Be it nose, chin, or eyebrow, the end was discover'd:
Though the points of the fool were but partially shewn,
His intent was embrac'd, and the dolt was well known.
'Mid the following yahoos I bring 'fore the eye,
There is much that's mysterious, and much to descry:
Whom I mean or do not, the observant must guess,—
Do you find the wearer, and I'll find the dress.
There is much that's mysterious, and much to descry:
Whom I mean or do not, the observant must guess,—
Do you find the wearer, and I'll find the dress.
I have been to King's ball, and the Lower-Rooms seem'd
An enchantment in ether where meteors gleam'd:
There star with star mingled, and ray mix'd with ray,
Till Beauty made night more resplendent than day.
As the Graces curvetted I stood in surprize,
In doubt which were brightest—their jewels or eyes.
An enchantment in ether where meteors gleam'd:
There star with star mingled, and ray mix'd with ray,
Till Beauty made night more resplendent than day.
As the Graces curvetted I stood in surprize,
In doubt which were brightest—their jewels or eyes.
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All the Fogrums are here, and came drest to the ball,
Sir Phil—Lady Bosky—Miss Charlotte—and all:
You must know that they value themselves on their blood,
For the Fogrums have triumph'd since Dan Noah's flood.
Sir Phil—Lady Bosky—Miss Charlotte—and all:
You must know that they value themselves on their blood,
For the Fogrums have triumph'd since Dan Noah's flood.
Miss Rosa Randan was involv'd with the rest,
Whose o'er-righteous movements make caution a jest;
She conjures up Ills, though she breathes but to fear 'em,
And sees Improprieties 'fore she comes near 'em;
Too studious anticipates moral offence,
And is held from all joy—by refinement of sense:
Her immaculate toils to be gay and polite,
Are like suburb civilities—awkward, but right:
When I paid those devoirs which were legally due,
She trembling replied—with her body askew;
And blush'd, like Carlisle, caught in Ribaldry's net,
Or Lady Bumblanche when she buys—a bidet;
Her austere education is surely distressing,
Which stands, like a cork, 'twixt her wish and the blessing.
Whose o'er-righteous movements make caution a jest;
She conjures up Ills, though she breathes but to fear 'em,
And sees Improprieties 'fore she comes near 'em;
Too studious anticipates moral offence,
And is held from all joy—by refinement of sense:
Her immaculate toils to be gay and polite,
Are like suburb civilities—awkward, but right:
When I paid those devoirs which were legally due,
She trembling replied—with her body askew;
And blush'd, like Carlisle, caught in Ribaldry's net,
Or Lady Bumblanche when she buys—a bidet;
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Which stands, like a cork, 'twixt her wish and the blessing.
The big Widow Hautgout, who's nick-nam'd Crushpillion,
Would present her huge front to make up a cotillion:
As I saw the Dame flounder, and struggle, and blow,
The weight of her frame shook the walls to and fro;
With a kerchief—Necessity sent as a boon,
She mopp'd the rank floods from her blazing full-moon.
Would present her huge front to make up a cotillion:
As I saw the Dame flounder, and struggle, and blow,
The weight of her frame shook the walls to and fro;
With a kerchief—Necessity sent as a boon,
She mopp'd the rank floods from her blazing full-moon.
We'd a mundungus
Sappho—a limb of flirtation,
Who rides on a fiddlestick through the creation;
Who smears with lame couplets Italian walls;
And, like the foul snail, leaves her filth where she crawls;
Who makes a dead sage hallow personal malice,
As of old hell-born Priests bore the bane on the chalice;
Who mumbles her sweetmeat and growls for the crumbs,
Though what holds the zest cleaves around her worn gums.
But shall apathis'd Prudence moan females are frail?
When the serpent of knowledge was mov'd by—its tail!
Who rides on a fiddlestick through the creation;
Who smears with lame couplets Italian walls;
And, like the foul snail, leaves her filth where she crawls;
Who makes a dead sage hallow personal malice,
As of old hell-born Priests bore the bane on the chalice;
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Though what holds the zest cleaves around her worn gums.
But shall apathis'd Prudence moan females are frail?
When the serpent of knowledge was mov'd by—its tail!
There was Charles the attractive—that son of good-humour,
With his purple proboscis, and mouth full of—rumour;
The wise greet his jest as kine solace in clover,
For the wit from his mind like a fountain runs over;
And some in broad day run with Rapture to fetch it,
While others employ Recollection to catch it:
When Care to this paragon sends a hard crust,
To masticate as mortals must:
To shun the woe which follows it,
He soaks it in wine, and swallows it.
With his purple proboscis, and mouth full of—rumour;
The wise greet his jest as kine solace in clover,
For the wit from his mind like a fountain runs over;
And some in broad day run with Rapture to fetch it,
While others employ Recollection to catch it:
When Care to this paragon sends a hard crust,
To masticate as mortals must:
To shun the woe which follows it,
He soaks it in wine, and swallows it.
144
A COLLOQUY in the ROOMS.
THUS Folly all woe-begone wail'd to Contempt:—
‘Skirtminus my sov'reignty troubles;
‘But no one, they say, is from sorrow exempt,
‘And that all temp'ral joys are but bubbles.
‘Skirtminus my sov'reignty troubles;
‘But no one, they say, is from sorrow exempt,
‘And that all temp'ral joys are but bubbles.
‘He affects to call vulgar what Pallas calls wise,
‘And the points of his fury dissembles:
‘He proves that the dogmas of Prudence are lies,
‘He dares to talk loud while—he trembles.
‘And the points of his fury dissembles:
‘He proves that the dogmas of Prudence are lies,
‘He dares to talk loud while—he trembles.
‘The biped's too base to be easy disgrac'd,
‘And too dull for the impulse of passion;
‘For he's long been a fistula, Ridicule plac'd
‘In the pestilent ano of Fashion.’
‘And too dull for the impulse of passion;
‘For he's long been a fistula, Ridicule plac'd
‘In the pestilent ano of Fashion.’
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Thus Contempt in reply:—“I'll nurse him and his brood;
“Our int'rests, you know, must not sever:
“Be you doubly zealous to furnish me food,
“And I'll take the Fopling—for ever!”
“Our int'rests, you know, must not sever:
“Be you doubly zealous to furnish me food,
“And I'll take the Fopling—for ever!”
HORACE PEERY.
York Hotel, 1789.
P. S. If you imagine Vapid got his pence
By talking sense,
Like Friar Bacon,
You are much mistaken.
By talking sense,
Like Friar Bacon,
You are much mistaken.
The Attorney and the Publican.
A TALE.
Thus Bibo was assail'd by Lawyer Pillage,
(They both had property in the same village:
The former kept an auberge call'd the Bear,
The latter's practice oft made Patience swear:)
“Bibo, by various arts men gather riches;
“While I spoil sheepskins Nature sent for breeches,
“You are indebted for your wealth to sots,
“And get a livelihood by—filling pots.”
(They both had property in the same village:
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The latter's practice oft made Patience swear:)
“Bibo, by various arts men gather riches;
“While I spoil sheepskins Nature sent for breeches,
“You are indebted for your wealth to sots,
“And get a livelihood by—filling pots.”
Then Bibo thus replied,
With civil insolence and vulgar pride:
‘Though I believe you learned in the laws,
‘For once friend Pillage you've mistook the cause:
‘Had I done so, I'd ne'er been worth a shilling,
‘I got my thousands man by—never filling.’
With civil insolence and vulgar pride:
‘Though I believe you learned in the laws,
‘For once friend Pillage you've mistook the cause:
‘Had I done so, I'd ne'er been worth a shilling,
‘I got my thousands man by—never filling.’
147
POETICK ADMONITION TO DOCTOR LONG OF BATH,
The greatest Chiropodist in the Universe.
FAIRE SA CHARGE AVEC DIGNITE NOUS SERIONS JUSTE.
I
Loth as I am to praise the crowd,I must do merit honour;
And praise deservedly bestow'd,
Brings credit to the donor.
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II
Whether from Leyden's learned spot,Or Salamanca's vale,
Or Edinburgh's tremendous knot,
Great Doctor Long—all hail!
III
Shall such a sage as Heav'n made you,Become a sapient prig?—
Throw by that scratch, I prithee do,
And wear a larger wig.
IV
'Bout spectacles, cravats, and canes,Most Galens make a fuss;
Without 'em could they squeeze the brains,
Of spectacles—like us!
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V
Such petite arts, such fourberies,Make many a blockhead pass—
As wise enough to steal a fee,
Whom nature meant—an ass!
VI
I pray be careful of your pence,Thou wondrous man of men:
For such a Biped with such sense
We ne'er shall see again.
VII
Deem not this well-meant zeal unkind—Contempt pursues each elf!
And when old Time has marr'd your mind,
She'll take you to herself!
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VIII
Be like a beau garçon, quite clean,To ease the pangs of Beauty:
And mark your instrument is keen,
To execute your duty.
IX
When modish Husbands call on thee,To extirpate their corns;
I charge you make no simile
Analagous to—horns.
X
Whene'er you prune a Blacklegs' toe,Who lives by fraud and trick;
I hope you'll goad the social foe,
And cut him—to the quick.
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XI
When lofty Prudes demand thy skill,Observe each virgin's eye:
Be cautious how you meet their will,
Nor lift the leg—too high.
XII
When Avarice claims thy regard,To sooth his pedal smart;
Though you should note his feet are hard,
Say nothing 'bout—his heart.
XIII
The Sick, the Sound, the Short, the Tall,Contribute to thy schemes:
Here the Great Vulgar and the Small
Are fond of the extremes.
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XIV
Chiefs shall surround thy form to gaze,In thee all have affiance;
God said,—Let Long like Phœbus blaze
O'er all the fields of science.
Bath, July 8th, 1789.
| A postscript to the new Bath guide | |