 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
179
The CRITIC and BARD.
A Fable.
A critic with a phiz severe,
The quintessence of Cynic sneer,
Spleen's genuine Offspring, Wond'rous Wise,
A Cuckoo in an Owl's disguise;
To while away his vacant Time,
Takes up, perchance, a Book of Rhyme,
Whether the Work of Dryden, Gay,
Or Pope, we can't exactly say;
He reads, and with a half-pleas'd Sneer,
Exclaims—“Good Heav'n, what stuff is here!
“Your Poets make their meadows laugh,
“Their spears and swords the life-blood quaff;
“The list'ning Moon stoop from her sphere,
“Some Lover's madrigal to hear;
“While Sylphs and Fairies—which still worse is,—
“(Fit entertainment for old nurses)
“Fill idle brains with foolish fancies,
“Ev'n worse than ---'s damn'd Romances:
“One common Sentiment in prose,
“Is worth a thousand books like those.”
The quintessence of Cynic sneer,
Spleen's genuine Offspring, Wond'rous Wise,
A Cuckoo in an Owl's disguise;
To while away his vacant Time,
Takes up, perchance, a Book of Rhyme,
Whether the Work of Dryden, Gay,
Or Pope, we can't exactly say;
He reads, and with a half-pleas'd Sneer,
Exclaims—“Good Heav'n, what stuff is here!
“Your Poets make their meadows laugh,
“Their spears and swords the life-blood quaff;
“The list'ning Moon stoop from her sphere,
“Some Lover's madrigal to hear;
“While Sylphs and Fairies—which still worse is,—
“(Fit entertainment for old nurses)
“Fill idle brains with foolish fancies,
“Ev'n worse than ---'s damn'd Romances:
“One common Sentiment in prose,
“Is worth a thousand books like those.”
He spake, and to his great surprize,
The Poet's Shade confronts his Eyes:—
“Shall groveling Pedants Laws impose,
“And unwing Rhyme to walk like Prose?
“Shall Earth-bound Lumps of Phlegm aspire,
“Eyeless, to guide bright Sons of Fire?
“As well might Owls thro' blaze of noon,
“Guide Jove's own bird to hail the Sun:
“The Plastic Sisters can with ease
“Inspire, create, whene'er they please;
“With Life can fields, trees, floods endue,
“Ev'n all things—save such Clods as you.
The Poet's Shade confronts his Eyes:—
“Shall groveling Pedants Laws impose,
“And unwing Rhyme to walk like Prose?
“Shall Earth-bound Lumps of Phlegm aspire,
“Eyeless, to guide bright Sons of Fire?
180
“Guide Jove's own bird to hail the Sun:
“The Plastic Sisters can with ease
“Inspire, create, whene'er they please;
“With Life can fields, trees, floods endue,
“Ev'n all things—save such Clods as you.
“The Muses' temple high in air,
“Was never form'd by rule or square;
“Inspired by the Genial Nine,
“Wild Fancy drew the plan divine;
“And while they sung their heav'nly strain,
“To Music rose the magic Fane.
“Was never form'd by rule or square;
“Inspired by the Genial Nine,
“Wild Fancy drew the plan divine;
“And while they sung their heav'nly strain,
“To Music rose the magic Fane.
“Be humble, Wretch, thy spleen controul,
“For know—you're but a Critic Mole;
“And Moles, when Phœbus shines most bright,
“Are bury'd in the darkest night.”
“For know—you're but a Critic Mole;
“And Moles, when Phœbus shines most bright,
“Are bury'd in the darkest night.”
So said, the Bard, frowning disdain,
Re-melted into air again:
Th'unfeeling Critic, undismay'd,
Scarce understood one word was said;
But like his brethren of all Four,
Thought on—as he had thought before.
Re-melted into air again:
Th'unfeeling Critic, undismay'd,
Scarce understood one word was said;
But like his brethren of all Four,
Thought on—as he had thought before.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |