Poems on Several Occasions In Two Volumes. By Mr. Joseph Mitchell |
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An ANACREONTIQUE, To the Right Honourable
John Earl of Stair:
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 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
350
An ANACREONTIQUE, To the Right Honourable John Earl of Stair:
Occasion'd by a View of his Lordship's Wardrobe a Sunning before their Majesties Coronation, 1727.
Cœlum ipsum petimus stultitia.
Hor.
Hor.
Have I been the special Care
Of my noble Patron Stair?
Is, by him, my Muse approv'd?
Are my various Lays belov'd?
Humbly then I'll make a Leg,
And a Favour freely beg.
Of my noble Patron Stair?
Is, by him, my Muse approv'd?
Are my various Lays belov'd?
Humbly then I'll make a Leg,
And a Favour freely beg.
351
But 'tis not (tho' Cash is scant)
Place or Pension, that I want—
“Walpole (when it shall him please)
“Will prefer his Bard to these.
Neither seek I Meat or Drink,
Parchment, Paper, Pen, or Ink—
“These (or else the Devil's in't)
“May be earn'd by what I print.)
But the Boon, I beg of Stair,
Is Equipment debonair,
From his Wardrobe, rich and gay,
For the Coronation-Day.
Place or Pension, that I want—
“Walpole (when it shall him please)
“Will prefer his Bard to these.
Neither seek I Meat or Drink,
Parchment, Paper, Pen, or Ink—
“These (or else the Devil's in't)
“May be earn'd by what I print.)
But the Boon, I beg of Stair,
Is Equipment debonair,
From his Wardrobe, rich and gay,
For the Coronation-Day.
Pity Robes, so fine, shou'd lie,
Like a Talent, hid—when I,
Worthy Poet, want a Sute
With some showy Tinsel to't,
In the loyal Crowd to strut,
And a courtly Figure cut!
Like a Talent, hid—when I,
Worthy Poet, want a Sute
With some showy Tinsel to't,
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And a courtly Figure cut!
What tho' Gazers then shou'd say,
“Lord! how Mitchell looks to-Day!
“Sure, Dependence now is past!
“Or old Madam's dead at last!
Let 'em wonder, carp, and grin—
Only those shou'd laugh, who win.
Mitchell will not care a Fig,
(So he, like a Lord, looks big)
Tho' the Rascal-Rabble swears,
That 'tis Collier's Coat he wears;
Or he'as hir'd, from Monmouth-street,
Birth-Day Cloaths, and made them meet.
“Lord! how Mitchell looks to-Day!
“Sure, Dependence now is past!
“Or old Madam's dead at last!
Let 'em wonder, carp, and grin—
Only those shou'd laugh, who win.
Mitchell will not care a Fig,
(So he, like a Lord, looks big)
Tho' the Rascal-Rabble swears,
That 'tis Collier's Coat he wears;
Or he'as hir'd, from Monmouth-street,
Birth-Day Cloaths, and made them meet.
Yet the Sute must something lack,
Ere 'tis fitted for my Back!
Ah! how alter'd it must be,
Ere it can appear on Me!
Turning's not the least Disgrace!
'Tis the Star must lose its Place!
Pity that no more must shine,
Nor the Ribband green be mine.
Ere 'tis fitted for my Back!
353
Ere it can appear on Me!
Turning's not the least Disgrace!
'Tis the Star must lose its Place!
Pity that no more must shine,
Nor the Ribband green be mine.
When, O when, shall worthy Bards
Meet with Honours for Rewards?
When be mark'd, for fair Renown,
By some Order of their own?
Why is no Distinction giv'n
To the Favourite Sons of Heav'n?
Meet with Honours for Rewards?
When be mark'd, for fair Renown,
By some Order of their own?
Why is no Distinction giv'n
To the Favourite Sons of Heav'n?
How 'twou'd glorify our Race,
And his Coronation grace,
Shou'd the second George think fit
To create a Crown for Wit,
Ensigns of an Order new!
Neither red, nor green, nor blue!
But of Rainbow's various Hue!
And select, from tuneful Herd,
Poets nine to be prefer'd!
With a Laureat, Heav'n-ally'd,
In their Chapters to preside!
Like Apollo, Laurel-crown'd,
And the Muses all around!
And his Coronation grace,
Shou'd the second George think fit
To create a Crown for Wit,
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Neither red, nor green, nor blue!
But of Rainbow's various Hue!
And select, from tuneful Herd,
Poets nine to be prefer'd!
With a Laureat, Heav'n-ally'd,
In their Chapters to preside!
Like Apollo, Laurel-crown'd,
And the Muses all around!
With what Majesty and State,
How superior, greatly great,
Wou'd stern Dennis then appear,
With his Ribband and his Star?
Lord! how Young and Gay wou'd strut?
What a Figure Hill wou'd cut?
Little Pope improve his Size
Inches nearer to the Skies?
Phillips Namby Pamby quit,
And aspire to Epic Wit?
Welsted, like the Frog, full-blown,
Swell and burst with his Renown?
Rivers' luckless Son wou'd then
Think himself the King of Men!
And the Laureat Eusden look
Like a gilded Folio-Book!
I (who Knight of Bath shou'd be)
Wou'd be glad my self to see
In Poetick Council sit,
With the Ornaments of Wit—
Glory greater than the Bays,
Empty Breath and dying Praise!
How superior, greatly great,
Wou'd stern Dennis then appear,
With his Ribband and his Star?
Lord! how Young and Gay wou'd strut?
What a Figure Hill wou'd cut?
Little Pope improve his Size
Inches nearer to the Skies?
355
And aspire to Epic Wit?
Welsted, like the Frog, full-blown,
Swell and burst with his Renown?
Rivers' luckless Son wou'd then
Think himself the King of Men!
And the Laureat Eusden look
Like a gilded Folio-Book!
I (who Knight of Bath shou'd be)
Wou'd be glad my self to see
In Poetick Council sit,
With the Ornaments of Wit—
Glory greater than the Bays,
Empty Breath and dying Praise!
Nor, were this rare Order made,
Shou'd our Art be deem'd a Trade,
Mercenary, vile and mean—
Lords and Squires wou'd then be seen
Of the Tribe, and proud to claim
Places with the Knights of Fame!
Hallifaxes wou'd arise,
And new Dorset's bless our Eyes!
Boyle's and Buckingham's divine
At our sacred Sessions shine!
Lawderdale's and Lansdown's yet
Seize their rightful Palm of Wit!
Chesterfield his Kindred own,
And partake of our Renown!
Dodington our Ensigns wear!
Wharton at our Board appear!
And Sir William Y--- wou'd part
With his Red with all his Heart,
And run deeper still in Debt,
So he cou'd the Rainbow get!
Shou'd our Art be deem'd a Trade,
356
Lords and Squires wou'd then be seen
Of the Tribe, and proud to claim
Places with the Knights of Fame!
Hallifaxes wou'd arise,
And new Dorset's bless our Eyes!
Boyle's and Buckingham's divine
At our sacred Sessions shine!
Lawderdale's and Lansdown's yet
Seize their rightful Palm of Wit!
Chesterfield his Kindred own,
And partake of our Renown!
Dodington our Ensigns wear!
Wharton at our Board appear!
And Sir William Y--- wou'd part
With his Red with all his Heart,
357
So he cou'd the Rainbow get!
This no Fancy of the Brain,
No Chimera wild and vain,
Shou'd his Majesty proclaim—
“Honour'd be the Sons of Fame;
“Thus it shall be done to those,
“Who transcend terrestrial Prose!
No Chimera wild and vain,
Shou'd his Majesty proclaim—
“Honour'd be the Sons of Fame;
“Thus it shall be done to those,
“Who transcend terrestrial Prose!
What new Glory wou'd it bring
To the Muses and the King,
Were this noble Order fixt
For the Coronation next!
But whate'er the Fates decree,
Generous Patron, think of me;
Let, O let not Mitchell pass,
In the Crowd, so like an Ass,
With Apparel course and plain;
While your Wardrobe does contain
Three-times Thirty Sutes, so fit
For the Dignity of Wit.
To the Muses and the King,
Were this noble Order fixt
For the Coronation next!
But whate'er the Fates decree,
Generous Patron, think of me;
Let, O let not Mitchell pass,
In the Crowd, so like an Ass,
358
While your Wardrobe does contain
Three-times Thirty Sutes, so fit
For the Dignity of Wit.
Or, at once to crown my Pray'r,
Shou'd I, by Decree of Stair,
Master of the Robes but be—
Rule the Roast who will, for me!
Shou'd I, by Decree of Stair,
Master of the Robes but be—
Rule the Roast who will, for me!
Horace, by Mæcenas grac'd,
And with Lyrick Poets plac'd,
Reach'd not nearer lofty Skies,
Than my raptur'd Self shou'd rise!
And with Lyrick Poets plac'd,
Reach'd not nearer lofty Skies,
Than my raptur'd Self shou'd rise!
Sublimi feriam Sidera vertice.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |