A Collection of Miscellany poems and letters Comical and Serious. By Jo. Harvey |
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EPILOGUE TO Bellum Grammaticale. |
 | A Collection of Miscellany poems and letters |  |
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EPILOGUE TO Bellum Grammaticale.
Ladies! Perhaps, you guess'd not our Intent,
So I come hear to tell ye what we meant;
As 'twere from Beachy-head, or from La Hogue,
I have return'd to speak the Epilogue.
So I come hear to tell ye what we meant;
As 'twere from Beachy-head, or from La Hogue,
I have return'd to speak the Epilogue.
Then, to be short, we have been at the Wars,
But parted with whole Skins, we thank our Stars.
Two Monarchs fell together by the Ears,
And, Ladies, I must own, I had my Fears;
A Poet and a Lover! Who wou'd thought it,
That they, of all Mankind, shou'd e're have fought it?
But parted with whole Skins, we thank our Stars.
Two Monarchs fell together by the Ears,
And, Ladies, I must own, I had my Fears;
A Poet and a Lover! Who wou'd thought it,
That they, of all Mankind, shou'd e're have fought it?
In short, the Lovers hasten to the Field,
And Cupids, Flames, and Hearts their Banners gild.
Vollies of parched Sighs inflame the Air,
Hope led the Vanguard, and the Rear Despair.
And Cupids, Flames, and Hearts their Banners gild.
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Hope led the Vanguard, and the Rear Despair.
Upon the other Side, the Poet-Train
Their mighty Numbers pour upon the Plain.
Squadrons of Roundeliers and Rhymers stand,
Acrostics, Anagrams, a dreadful Band!
Two general Crambo's at the Front appear,
And Quarter-Master Doggrel led the Rear.
Their Ensigns very old, but nowise nice,
All torn to Rags, embroider'd o'er with Lice.
Their mighty Numbers pour upon the Plain.
Squadrons of Roundeliers and Rhymers stand,
Acrostics, Anagrams, a dreadful Band!
Two general Crambo's at the Front appear,
And Quarter-Master Doggrel led the Rear.
Their Ensigns very old, but nowise nice,
All torn to Rags, embroider'd o'er with Lice.
But thank our Stars, just ere we drew our Swords,
(Choak'd as we were with Steams of Pannic T---s;
We found the War was but a War of Words.
Our Poet-Monarch chanc'd to be a Noun,
A Garret-gotten, hungry, lousy Lown;
Guarded with Adjectives, as void of Sense,
As, generally, the Poet is of Pence;
With Pronouns, He's and She's, and Who's and Which's,
A scoundrel Race of d---n'd pedantic B---s.
(Choak'd as we were with Steams of Pannic T---s;
We found the War was but a War of Words.
Our Poet-Monarch chanc'd to be a Noun,
A Garret-gotten, hungry, lousy Lown;
Guarded with Adjectives, as void of Sense,
As, generally, the Poet is of Pence;
With Pronouns, He's and She's, and Who's and Which's,
A scoundrel Race of d---n'd pedantic B---s.
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Again, the Lover Prince a Verb we found,
With Hopes and Fears completely guarded round;
Attended too by numerous Collections
Of Adverbs, Prepositions, Interjections,
As, Utinam, I wish—and, Hei, alace!
That e'er I saw that dear—deceitful Face.
With Hopes and Fears completely guarded round;
Attended too by numerous Collections
Of Adverbs, Prepositions, Interjections,
As, Utinam, I wish—and, Hei, alace!
That e'er I saw that dear—deceitful Face.
But Ladies, Faith, if I stay longer here,
I'll turn upon the Lover's Side, I fear,
I see such pretty Faces all around me,
That ev'ry Glance, I'll swear, begins to wound me:
Farewel then, Ladies,—Gentlemen, Adieu,
Speak well of us, and we'll speak well of you;
Our Labour asks no other Recompence,
Commend our Wit, and we'll commend your Sense.
I'll turn upon the Lover's Side, I fear,
I see such pretty Faces all around me,
That ev'ry Glance, I'll swear, begins to wound me:
Farewel then, Ladies,—Gentlemen, Adieu,
Speak well of us, and we'll speak well of you;
Our Labour asks no other Recompence,
Commend our Wit, and we'll commend your Sense.
| A Collection of Miscellany poems and letters | |