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 |
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AN ODE TO SIR JOSEPH BANKS,
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 | The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] |  |
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AN ODE TO SIR JOSEPH BANKS,
ON THE Report of his Elevation to the important Dignity of a Privy Counsellor.
------ Optat ephippia bos.
He becomes honours as a sow does a saddle.
PROVERBS.
He becomes honours as a sow does a saddle.
PROVERBS.
Ye gods! Sir Joseph of the counsel privy?
Inventive newspapers, I can't believe ye!
Impossible! ye certainly are fibbing!
Sir Joseph dubb'd a counsellor of state!
'Tis laughing at too high a rate;
Lord! what a joke! ye certainly are squibbing!
Inventive newspapers, I can't believe ye!
Impossible! ye certainly are fibbing!
Sir Joseph dubb'd a counsellor of state!
'Tis laughing at too high a rate;
Lord! what a joke! ye certainly are squibbing!
Because we have believ'd th' apostate Pitt,
And shown such wondrous want of wit,
Ye think that any fable will go down.
Now, pray be careful, sirs, of what you print;
There's danger—yes, indeed, there's danger in't—
Woe to the wight that ridicules a crown!
And shown such wondrous want of wit,
Ye think that any fable will go down.
Now, pray be careful, sirs, of what you print;
There's danger—yes, indeed, there's danger in't—
Woe to the wight that ridicules a crown!
Sir Joseph is for blunt
conductors;
A monarch wanteth sharp instructors:
How can such monstrous discords then agree?
Then pray speak truth, ye men of news,
And do not thus the world amuse:
It is not—cannot—must not be!
A monarch wanteth sharp instructors:
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Then pray speak truth, ye men of news,
And do not thus the world amuse:
It is not—cannot—must not be!
His m---y is surely wise;
And wants no talk on butterflies,
On eggs and bird-nests, newts and weeds:
He wants a man to talk on wars,
On dread invasions, wounds, and scars,
On stumps, and carcasses, and heads.
And wants no talk on butterflies,
On eggs and bird-nests, newts and weeds:
He wants a man to talk on wars,
On dread invasions, wounds, and scars,
On stumps, and carcasses, and heads.
After a butterfly to scamper,
And with a net his captive hamper,
Sir Joseph is expert, and must delight;
But, as for politics!—O Heav'n!
The board must very hard be driv'n,
To choose a swearing tadpole knight!
And with a net his captive hamper,
Sir Joseph is expert, and must delight;
But, as for politics!—O Heav'n!
The board must very hard be driv'n,
To choose a swearing tadpole knight!
To give a breakfast in Soho,
Sir Joseph's very bitterest foe
Must certainly allow him peerless merit;
Where, on a wag-tail, and tom-tit,
He shines, and sometimes on a nit,
Displaying pow'rs few gentlemen inherit.
Sir Joseph's very bitterest foe
Must certainly allow him peerless merit;
Where, on a wag-tail, and tom-tit,
He shines, and sometimes on a nit,
Displaying pow'rs few gentlemen inherit.
I grant he is no intellectual lion,
Subduing ev'ry thing he darts his eye on;
Rather, I ween, an intellectual flea,
Hopping on Science's broad bony back,
Poking its pert proboscis of attack,
Drawing a drop of blood, and fancying it a sea!
Subduing ev'ry thing he darts his eye on;
Rather, I ween, an intellectual flea,
Hopping on Science's broad bony back,
Poking its pert proboscis of attack,
Drawing a drop of blood, and fancying it a sea!
But should reports be true, alas!
(And marv'lous things oft come to pass),
Should he be dubb'd a king's adviser;
'Twill be so wonderful a change—
So very, very, very strange!
What's stranger still, the council won't be wiser!
(And marv'lous things oft come to pass),
Should he be dubb'd a king's adviser;
'Twill be so wonderful a change—
So very, very, very strange!
What's stranger still, the council won't be wiser!
From Joseph Banks unto Sir Knight,
Then privy counsellor in spite
Of Nature, brain, and education!
If, for the last, he hands has kiss'd;
There's not a reptile on his list
E'er knew a stranger transmutation.
Then privy counsellor in spite
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If, for the last, he hands has kiss'd;
There's not a reptile on his list
E'er knew a stranger transmutation.
How could Sir Joseph have the face
To take so dignified a place?
But probably the knight will say, the elf,
‘Why should not I, as well as some of those
Who this same wondrous board compose?
There are not wiser fellows than myself.’
To take so dignified a place?
But probably the knight will say, the elf,
‘Why should not I, as well as some of those
Who this same wondrous board compose?
There are not wiser fellows than myself.’
To give the Devil his due,
That's true.—
That's true.—
While Pitt harangues on France and Spain,
Sir Joseph on a beetle's brain,
A fly, a toad, a tadpole's tail:
While Pitt is on the emperor's loan,
For Britain's jaws so hard a bone,
Sir Joseph's on a weed and snail!
Sir Joseph on a beetle's brain,
A fly, a toad, a tadpole's tail:
While Pitt is on the emperor's loan,
For Britain's jaws so hard a bone,
Sir Joseph's on a weed and snail!
While Pitt is thinking of supplies,
And turns, poor man! his hopeless eyes
On what may lift us from the bog;
The knight his head for flea-traps rakes,
Or louse-traps, or deep-studying makes
A pair of breeches for a frog .
And turns, poor man! his hopeless eyes
On what may lift us from the bog;
The knight his head for flea-traps rakes,
Or louse-traps, or deep-studying makes
A pair of breeches for a frog .
While majesty and his wise nobles
Shall weep o'er England's groans and troubles,
Ordering great guns to make the Frenchmen caper;
Of reptiles will the knight be dreaming,
And instruments for insects scheming,
To stretch their little limbs on paper.
Shall weep o'er England's groans and troubles,
Ordering great guns to make the Frenchmen caper;
Of reptiles will the knight be dreaming,
And instruments for insects scheming,
To stretch their little limbs on paper.
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Gods! if amidst some grand debate,
All for the good of our great state,
A moth should flutter, would the man sit quiet?
Forgetting state affairs, the knight
Would seize his hat with wild delight,
And, chasing, make the most infernal riot:
O'erturning benches, statesmen, ev'ry thing,
To make a pris'ner of the mealy wing!
All for the good of our great state,
A moth should flutter, would the man sit quiet?
Forgetting state affairs, the knight
Would seize his hat with wild delight,
And, chasing, make the most infernal riot:
O'erturning benches, statesmen, ev'ry thing,
To make a pris'ner of the mealy wing!
Were Brunswick here, I'd tell the king of glory
A simple story;
An Æsop's tale, by way of illustration,
Proving Sir Joseph's awkward elevation.
A simple story;
An Æsop's tale, by way of illustration,
Proving Sir Joseph's awkward elevation.
As how a cat did Jupiter implore
(For cats like Christians said their pray'rs of yore),
That he would make her a young lady fair;
And how, of rattling thunder the great God
Consented to it with his usual nod,
And made her pretty too as she could stare.
(For cats like Christians said their pray'rs of yore),
That he would make her a young lady fair;
And how, of rattling thunder the great God
Consented to it with his usual nod,
And made her pretty too as she could stare.
And then as how, upon her wedding-night,
When in her deary's loving arms lock'd tight,
She heard behind the bed a rat;
Sudden from his embrace she gave a spring,
Forgetting love, and kiss, and ev'ry thing,
To catch the vermin like a cat:
And how, to punish her, with huge disdain,
The angry god made miss a cat again.
When in her deary's loving arms lock'd tight,
She heard behind the bed a rat;
Sudden from his embrace she gave a spring,
Forgetting love, and kiss, and ev'ry thing,
To catch the vermin like a cat:
And how, to punish her, with huge disdain,
The angry god made miss a cat again.
Thus may the king, like his great brother Jove,
Forget his partiality and love;
And as Jove justly serv'd the cat, to shame her;
So, from a counsellor, the king of men
May make the knight a grub-hunter agen,
And bid him mind his butterflies and hammer.
Forget his partiality and love;
And as Jove justly serv'd the cat, to shame her;
So, from a counsellor, the king of men
May make the knight a grub-hunter agen,
And bid him mind his butterflies and hammer.
[_]
Since the foregoing Ode was given to the printer, it is too true that the newspapers were in the right. The knight is bonâ fide dubbed a privy counsellor. Ridicule enjoys a second feast on the occasion. Her first treat was his elevation to the chair of the immortal Newton.
Sir Joseph must not complain at his being so frequently the subject of a poetical laugh; Folly is the natural and fair game of Satire. To wreak his revenge on the Muse, by condemning her to silence, let him cease to play the fool. Amotâ causâ, tollitur effectus—I beg the knight's pardon, for I recollect that he has forgotten all his Latin, and retains his native vulgar tongue only.
Notwithstanding a thousand experiments in favour of pointed conductors, the knight and co. will not allow the ingenious Franklin, the father of electricity, to be in the right with respect to the superiority of points to nobs: too obstinate (and perhaps too ignorant) to be convinced, and too haughty to yield.
| The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] | |