The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] ... With a Copious Index. To which is prefixed Some Account of his Life. In Four Volumes |
 | I. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. | ODE IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
|
| II. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| II. |
|
|
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
|
|
|
| II. |
|
|
|
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
|
| II. |
|
|
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
|
|
|
|
|
| I. |
|
|
|
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
| II. |
|
|
|
|
| III. |
|
|
|
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| IV. |
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
|
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
|
|
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
 | The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] |  |
24
ODE IX.
Peter exhibiteth Bible Knowledge—Condemneth Imitators, and maketh Comparisons.
Sir Joshua—for I've read my Bible over—
Of whose fine art I own myself a lover,
Puts me in mind of Matthew, the first chapter—
Abrâm got Isaac—Isaac, Jacob got—
Joseph to get, was lucky Jacob's lot,
And all his brothers,
Who very nat'rally made others,
Continuing to the end of a long chapter—
A genealogy I read with rapture.
Of whose fine art I own myself a lover,
Puts me in mind of Matthew, the first chapter—
Abrâm got Isaac—Isaac, Jacob got—
Joseph to get, was lucky Jacob's lot,
And all his brothers,
Who very nat'rally made others,
Continuing to the end of a long chapter—
A genealogy I read with rapture.
Yet, possibly, not with so much delight,
As Queensb'ry's duke, delighting in good courses,
Reads (which I'm told he doth, from morn to night)
The noble pedigrees of running-horses,
Penn'd with a deal of subtlety and labour,
By that great turf-apostle, Mr. Heber.
As Queensb'ry's duke, delighting in good courses,
Reads (which I'm told he doth, from morn to night)
The noble pedigrees of running-horses,
Penn'd with a deal of subtlety and labour,
By that great turf-apostle, Mr. Heber.
Sir Joshua's happy pencil hath produc'd
A host of copyists, much of the same feature;
By which the art hath greatly been abus'd—
I own Sir Joshua great—but nature greater.
A host of copyists, much of the same feature;
By which the art hath greatly been abus'd—
I own Sir Joshua great—but nature greater.
But what, alas! is ten-times worse
The progress of the art to curse,
The copyists have been copied too,
And that, I'm sure, will never do.
The progress of the art to curse,
The copyists have been copied too,
And that, I'm sure, will never do.
Such painters are like pointers hunting game,
Intent on pleasure, and dog-fame;
Suppose a half-a-dozen dogs, or more,
Snuffing, and scamp'ring, crossing the field o'er.
Intent on pleasure, and dog-fame;
Suppose a half-a-dozen dogs, or more,
Snuffing, and scamp'ring, crossing the field o'er.
One pointer scents the partridge—points—
Fix'd like a statue on the pleasing gale!
How act the others?—Stop their scamp'ring joints;
And, lo! one's nose is on his neighbour's tail.
Fix'd like a statue on the pleasing gale!
How act the others?—Stop their scamp'ring joints;
And, lo! one's nose is on his neighbour's tail.
25
Perhaps this dog-comparison of mine,
Though vastly natural and vastly fine,
May not be fully understood
By all the youngling painter brood;
Therefore, that into error they mayn't roam,
I think I'll be a little more at home.
Though vastly natural and vastly fine,
May not be fully understood
By all the youngling painter brood;
Therefore, that into error they mayn't roam,
I think I'll be a little more at home.
Suppose a damsel of the Cyprian class,
A fresh-imported, lovely, blooming lass,
Gay, careless, smiling, ogling, in the park—
Suppose those charms, so pleasing to the eye,
Catch the wild glance, and start the am'rous sigh,
Of some young roving military spark!
A fresh-imported, lovely, blooming lass,
Gay, careless, smiling, ogling, in the park—
Suppose those charms, so pleasing to the eye,
Catch the wild glance, and start the am'rous sigh,
Of some young roving military spark!
Lo! as if touch'd by bailiffs, or by thunder,
Sudden he stops—all-over staring wonder—
A thousand fancies his warm brain surround,
And nail'd, as if by magic, to the ground,
He points towards those fascinating charms
That rous'd the host of passions up in arms.
Sudden he stops—all-over staring wonder—
A thousand fancies his warm brain surround,
And nail'd, as if by magic, to the ground,
He points towards those fascinating charms
That rous'd the host of passions up in arms.
A brother ensign spies the stock-still lad,
And sudden halts—grave pond'ring what it means—
Another ensign, taking this for mad,
Upon his supple-jack, deep-marv'ling, leans:
And sudden halts—grave pond'ring what it means—
Another ensign, taking this for mad,
Upon his supple-jack, deep-marv'ling, leans:
Another ensign after him, too, sauntering,
Stops short, and to his eye applies his glass;
To know what stay'd his brother ensign's cantering,
Not dreaming of that eye-catcher, the lass.
Stops short, and to his eye applies his glass;
To know what stay'd his brother ensign's cantering,
Not dreaming of that eye-catcher, the lass.
Thus nosing one the other's back,
Stands in a goodly row the king's red pack:
Except the first, whom Nature's charms in flame,
His nose is properly towards the game.
Stands in a goodly row the king's red pack:
Except the first, whom Nature's charms in flame,
His nose is properly towards the game.
E'en so, the President, to Nature true,
Doth mark her form, and all her haunts pursue;
Whilst half the silly brushmen of the land,
Contented take the nymph at second-hand;
Imps, who just boast the merit of translators—
Horace's servum pecus—imitators.
Doth mark her form, and all her haunts pursue;
Whilst half the silly brushmen of the land,
Contented take the nymph at second-hand;
Imps, who just boast the merit of translators—
Horace's servum pecus—imitators.
| The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] | |