 | Poems, in English, Scotch, and Latin |  |
38
FRAGMENTS OF A POEM ON DUELLING.
Say, Muse, what cause so forcible can make one
Expose to powder and to ball one's bacon?
For my poor part, I say, and always said,
That 'tis the fear of being thought afraid.
What mighty folly to avenge the pains
Of trampled toe, at peril of one's brains!
How impious in mortal man to scatter
The sacred contents of his Pia mater!
But what my patience drives to the ne plus
Ultra, and would were I the man of Uz,
Is to consider that the fawning wretch
To whom some Lordling calls—go—carry—fetch,—
The powder'd, perfum'd, pimping, prating varlet,
Presuming on cockade and coat of scarlet,
The fluster'd coward, wishing to retrieve
The honour, which in battle he did leave,
By honour's laws may force the man of Ross
To stake his Sterling worth against their dross;
Or that some ruin'd gambler, to avoid
The trouble and the crime of suicide,
The best of men with insult may provoke
At once to give and to receive the stroke.
Expose to powder and to ball one's bacon?
For my poor part, I say, and always said,
That 'tis the fear of being thought afraid.
What mighty folly to avenge the pains
Of trampled toe, at peril of one's brains!
How impious in mortal man to scatter
The sacred contents of his Pia mater!
But what my patience drives to the ne plus
Ultra, and would were I the man of Uz,
Is to consider that the fawning wretch
To whom some Lordling calls—go—carry—fetch,—
39
Presuming on cockade and coat of scarlet,
The fluster'd coward, wishing to retrieve
The honour, which in battle he did leave,
By honour's laws may force the man of Ross
To stake his Sterling worth against their dross;
Or that some ruin'd gambler, to avoid
The trouble and the crime of suicide,
The best of men with insult may provoke
At once to give and to receive the stroke.
In gambling annals, was there ever known
The rich man's purse against the poor one's thrown
Quite by the slump?—Since then 'tis always found,
When money's risk'd, that pound is stak'd 'gainst pound,
Shilling 'gainst shilling, pennies against pence,
Where's the consistency with common sense,
That when life's stak'd, all thought of worth's omitted,
And with a patriot a state swindler pitted?—
When,—merit weigh'd,—the odds were fairly laid
Were Charles' curl risk'd 'gainst Billy's head.
[OMITTED]
The rich man's purse against the poor one's thrown
Quite by the slump?—Since then 'tis always found,
When money's risk'd, that pound is stak'd 'gainst pound,
Shilling 'gainst shilling, pennies against pence,
Where's the consistency with common sense,
That when life's stak'd, all thought of worth's omitted,
And with a patriot a state swindler pitted?—
40
Were Charles' curl risk'd 'gainst Billy's head.
And now behold depart on pious mission
Yond B---p vowing 'gainst his foes perdition,
Swearing by blood and wounds, hell-fire and thunder,
That with the voice of four and twenty pounder
He'll soon convert the atheistic tribe,
Make them the Athanasian creed subscribe,
Force them Te Deum on their knees to bellow,
And for their daily bread a wafer swallow.
[OMITTED]
Yond B---p vowing 'gainst his foes perdition,
Swearing by blood and wounds, hell-fire and thunder,
That with the voice of four and twenty pounder
He'll soon convert the atheistic tribe,
Make them the Athanasian creed subscribe,
Force them Te Deum on their knees to bellow,
And for their daily bread a wafer swallow.
In order to prevent any misconstruction of these last lines, it may be proper to mention, that they were written with no view of conveying any reflection against religion, but solely with the view of exposing the wickedness and folly of attempting by force of arms, to re-establish a superstition, the absurdity, nonsense, and blasphemy of which, joined with the ignorance, bigotry, cruelty, profligacy, atheism, tyranny, and rapacity of its priests, have driven almost a whole nation to infidelity.
| Poems, in English, Scotch, and Latin | |