On Novelty and on Trifles, and Triflers. Poetical Amusements at a Villa near Bath [by Lady Anne Miller] |
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ON TRIFLES, and TRIFLERS. |
 | On Novelty |  |
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ON TRIFLES, and TRIFLERS.
As Facts revolve by Rules unfix'd—
Things, great and trifling, are so mix'd
With all the Fuss of Bus'ness round 'em,
One's apt too often to confound them:
And it requires some Strength of Sight
In every Case to judge aright.
Pride dogmatizes—Folly wonders—
And each commits a thousand Blunders.
The surly Stoic thrusts his Lip.
And wrinkles up his Nose's Tip,
Then swelling high with Pride internal,
Thus bellows forth his railing Journal.
Things, great and trifling, are so mix'd
With all the Fuss of Bus'ness round 'em,
One's apt too often to confound them:
And it requires some Strength of Sight
In every Case to judge aright.
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And each commits a thousand Blunders.
The surly Stoic thrusts his Lip.
And wrinkles up his Nose's Tip,
Then swelling high with Pride internal,
Thus bellows forth his railing Journal.
“Hence trifling World! I scorn—I hate
“The petty Toys that rule Man's Fate!—
“Say what is Honour?—but a Bubble,
“Which flies the Grasp, and mocks your Trouble—
“Can that be an important Matter
“Which ev'ry sland'rous Breath can scatter?
“Say what is Power?—a pageant Puppet,
“Curs'd by the Boobies who set up it;
“Suffer'd awhile to storm and grumble,
“And rise—to have the heavier Tumble!
“Riches—are sordid Trifles all!—
“And Beauty—but a painted Doll!
“The Gold—the Trophy—Mistress—Throne,
“Are but the Toys of Children grown—
“Too headstrong to regard th' Adviser,
“And Fools the more—since Age can't make them wiser!”
Thus the sour Misanthrope gives vent
To Prejudice, and Discontent.
“The petty Toys that rule Man's Fate!—
“Say what is Honour?—but a Bubble,
“Which flies the Grasp, and mocks your Trouble—
“Can that be an important Matter
“Which ev'ry sland'rous Breath can scatter?
“Say what is Power?—a pageant Puppet,
“Curs'd by the Boobies who set up it;
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“And rise—to have the heavier Tumble!
“Riches—are sordid Trifles all!—
“And Beauty—but a painted Doll!
“The Gold—the Trophy—Mistress—Throne,
“Are but the Toys of Children grown—
“Too headstrong to regard th' Adviser,
“And Fools the more—since Age can't make them wiser!”
Thus the sour Misanthrope gives vent
To Prejudice, and Discontent.
Miss Fanny—just from School let out,
And jaunted by Mamma about,
Where'er she turns her raptur'd View,
Sees something wonderful and new!
And if her Word may stamp their Worth,
There are no Trifles upon earth.
“This heavenly Ball!—this Rout divine!
“That Concert—so immensely fine!
“That lovely Silk!—that new Cotillion!
“I'd not forget it for a Million!—
“—I would not for ten thousand Guineas
“Wear such a Cap as Lady Jenny's!—
“I'd give the World and all that's in it,
“To have the Captain here a Minute!’—
And jaunted by Mamma about,
Where'er she turns her raptur'd View,
Sees something wonderful and new!
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There are no Trifles upon earth.
“This heavenly Ball!—this Rout divine!
“That Concert—so immensely fine!
“That lovely Silk!—that new Cotillion!
“I'd not forget it for a Million!—
“—I would not for ten thousand Guineas
“Wear such a Cap as Lady Jenny's!—
“I'd give the World and all that's in it,
“To have the Captain here a Minute!’—
By talk like this—a Girl of Spirit
Decks Trifles out with fancied Merit.
But each side errs, and idly dreams,—
For Truth lies never in extremes.
Things are not all to be despis'd,
Nor indiscriminately priz'd,
But have their Value giv'n—(depend on't)—
By Chance and Circumstance attendant.
Decks Trifles out with fancied Merit.
But each side errs, and idly dreams,—
For Truth lies never in extremes.
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Nor indiscriminately priz'd,
But have their Value giv'n—(depend on't)—
By Chance and Circumstance attendant.
Riches—are good when rightly us'd,
By warm Benevolence diffus'd;
And made by Virtue's honest Arts
T' exhilarate a thousand Hearts!
By warm Benevolence diffus'd;
And made by Virtue's honest Arts
T' exhilarate a thousand Hearts!
Power—is no empty Pageant, when
Exerted for the Good of Men;
To shelter Virtue—punish Crimes—
Advance the Arts—and mend the Times!
Exerted for the Good of Men;
To shelter Virtue—punish Crimes—
Advance the Arts—and mend the Times!
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Beauty—is sure no trifling Pow'r,
With Sense and Virtue for its Dow'r;
With Elegance and Taste refin'd—
A feeling Heart—a noble Mind;—
A Soul of inward Worth,—no less
Than what the outward Traits express.
Then Beauty is not giv'n in vain,
As all must own who hear of—Payne!
With Sense and Virtue for its Dow'r;
With Elegance and Taste refin'd—
A feeling Heart—a noble Mind;—
A Soul of inward Worth,—no less
Than what the outward Traits express.
Then Beauty is not giv'n in vain,
As all must own who hear of—Payne!
For Honour—it depends for Worth
On those from whom it issues forth.
Praise is but Satire from the Vicious—
The Mean—Absurd—or Injudicious.
When from a noble Source it springs,
It stamps a Price on meanest Things.
The British-Garter thus supports
Its Dignity at foreign Courts.—
Thus Greeks of old would strive and quarrel,
For Crowns of Parsley, Bays, or Laurel.—
And thus in Bath's gay Circles—now,
All study for the Myrtle—Bough.
On those from whom it issues forth.
Praise is but Satire from the Vicious—
The Mean—Absurd—or Injudicious.
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It stamps a Price on meanest Things.
The British-Garter thus supports
Its Dignity at foreign Courts.—
Thus Greeks of old would strive and quarrel,
For Crowns of Parsley, Bays, or Laurel.—
And thus in Bath's gay Circles—now,
All study for the Myrtle—Bough.
FINIS.
| On Novelty | |