Poems, in English, Scotch, and Latin [by James Grahame] |
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APOLOGY TO THE SAME LADY FOR ALLOWING HER FAN TO BE WET BY THE RAIN. |
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 | Poems, in English, Scotch, and Latin |  |
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APOLOGY TO THE SAME LADY FOR ALLOWING HER FAN TO BE WET BY THE RAIN.
How many thousands of ill-fatedWretches have their ruin dated
From gifts or loans! A non pareille
Was th'cause why father Adam fell.
Great Hercules his death-blow got
By putting on a gifted coat.
Poor Phaeton danc'd a headlong jig
For borrowing his father's Gig.
Troy, proof against all human force,
Blazed round Minerva's hobby horse:
To me a Fan had done the same,
Had blown my heart into a flame,
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With darts the conflagration fed:—
What could I,—then,—but what I have done?
What else in such case would have saved one?
What—but drench the Urchin's wing?
What, but wet his sounding string?
| Poems, in English, Scotch, and Latin | |