The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] :: :: University of Virginia Library

Sir William! what, a new estate!
I give thee joy of Gabia's fate—
More broken pans, more gods, more mugs,
More snivel bottles, jordens, and old jugs,
More saucepans, lamps, and candlesticks, and kettles,
In short, all sorts of culinary metals!

Leave not a dust-hole unexplor'd;
Something shall rise to be ador'd—
Search the old bedsteads and the rugs;
Such things are sacred—if, by chance,
Amidst the wood, thine eye should glance
On a nice pair of antique bugs;

Oh, in some box the curious vermin place,
And let us Britons breed the Roman race!

Old nails, old knockers, and old shoes,
Would much Daines Barrington amuse;
Old mats, old dish-clouts, dripping-pans, and spits,
Would prove delectable to other wits;
Gods' legs, and legs of old joint stools,
Would ravish all our antiquarian schools.

395

Some rev'rend moth, with ne'er a wing,
Would charm the knight of Soho-square:
A headless flea would be a pretty thing,
To make the knight of wonders stare.

A curl of some old emp'ror's wig,
Or Nero's fiddle, 'mid the flames of Rome,
That gave so exquisite a jig,
Believe me, would be well worth sending home.

Oh, if some lumping rarity of gold,
Thy lucky lucky eyes by chance behold,
Send it to our good k*** and gracious q****:
No matter what th' inscription—if there's none,
'Tis all one!
Plain gold will please, as well as work'd, I ween—
Much will the present their great eyes regale,
Let it but cut a figure in the scale.

Oh! could an earthquake shake down Wapping,
And catch th' inhabitants and goods all napping,
And then a thousand years the ruin shade,
What fortunes would be quickly made!
What rare musæums from the rubbish rise,
Wapping antiquities to glad the eyes!

How portraits of Moll Flanders, Hannah Snell,
And Miss D'Eon, those heroines, would sell!
Canning and Squires!
How would the dilettanti of the nation
Devour the prints with eyes of admiration!
And to their merits, poets strike their lyres!

Sign-posts, with Old Blue Boars, and heads of nags,
Would from the proud possessor draw such brags!
Red Lions, Crowns and Magpies, George the Third;
The Cat and Gridiron, our most gracious Queen,
With rapt'rous adoration would be seen;
They would upon my word.
Such would transport the people of hereafter,
Though subjects now of merriment and laughter.

A newly-discovered town, sister in misfortune to Herculaneum, Pompeia, and Pæstum.

Sir Joseph Banks.

396

POSTSCRIPT (sub rosâ).

HIST!—what fresh ovens of Etrurian ware;
What pretty jordens has my friend to spare?
What gods are ripe for digging up, O knight?
What Britons, knowing in the virtú trade,
Soon as a grand discov'ry shall be made,
Are near thee, gudgeon-like, prepar'd to bite?

What brazen god, baptiz'd with chamber lye ,
For which the future connoisseurs may sigh,
Is going into ground, with front sublime?
Hereafter to be worshipp'd soon as seen;
A resurrection rare, array'd in green,
A downright satire upon Time;
Who seems, a poor old fumbling fool, to dote;
Taking two thousand years to make a coat.

A whisper—lock'd is the Musæum door
From whence antiques were wont to stray;
Whose parents ne'er sat eyes upon them more,
So much the little creatures lost their way?
Pity thou couldst not news of them obtain,
And send the gods and godlings back again!

Sir William, what's become of that same monk ,
From whose old corner-cupboard, or old trunk,

397

Thine hist'ry issued about burning mountains?
For who would toil, and sweat, and hoe the hill,
To find, perhaps, of knowledge a poor rill,
Who easily can buy the fountains?

O knight of Naples, is it come to pass,
That thou hast left the gods of stone and brass,
To wed a deity of flesh and blood ?
O lock the temple with thy strongest key,
For fear thy deity, a comely she,
Should one day ramble in a frolic mood.

For since the idols of a youthful king,
So very volatile indeed, take wing;
If his, to wicked wand'rings can incline,
Lord! who would answer, poor old knight, for thine?
Yet should thy Grecian goddess fly the fane,
I think that we may catch her in Hedge-lane .

Sir William keeps an old antiquarian to hunt for him, who, when he stumbles on a tolerable statue, bathes him in urine, buries him, and when ripe for digging up, they proclaim a great discovery to be made, and out comes an antique for universal admiration.

Some valuable antiques, not long since, made their escape from the Royal Musæum, and travelled the Lord knows where.

He lived in the neighbourhood of Vesuvius, and furnished the knight with all his volcanic observations, which pass on the world as his own.—Nam quod emis, possis dicere jure tuum.

It is really true—the knight is married to a beautiful virgin, whom he styles his Grecian. Her attitudes are the most desirable models for young artists.

The resort of the Cyprian corps, an avenue that opens into Cockspur-street.