 | An Epistle From A Footman in London To the Celebrated Stephen Duck |  |
3
[To Thee, the happy Fav'rite of the Nine]
To
Thee, the happy Fav'rite of the Nine,
On whom the Great and Good have deign'd to shine;
Blushing, to Thee, these artless Lines I send,
Ambitious for the Title of thy Friend;
But fear such Advocates will ne'er obtain,
As plead their Cause in so uncouth a Strain.
Yet some Indulgence sure you ought to shew
An Infant Poet, and unlearn'd as you;
Unskill'd in Art, unexercis'd to sing,
I've just but tasted the Pierian Spring.
Pardon the Faults then, and accept the Friend,
Who hopes, would Fortune smile, in Time to mend.
On whom the Great and Good have deign'd to shine;
Blushing, to Thee, these artless Lines I send,
Ambitious for the Title of thy Friend;
But fear such Advocates will ne'er obtain,
As plead their Cause in so uncouth a Strain.
Yet some Indulgence sure you ought to shew
An Infant Poet, and unlearn'd as you;
Unskill'd in Art, unexercis'd to sing,
I've just but tasted the Pierian Spring.
Pardon the Faults then, and accept the Friend,
Who hopes, would Fortune smile, in Time to mend.
4
When first thy wond'rous Tale was told abroad,
How did my Soul the Royal Act applaud!
To raise from Poverty's most abject State,
And all the countless Ills which round her wait,
A Mind like Thine—proclaims the Goodness great!
To free from slavish Toil, from low Distress,
And give the Means to purchase Happiness;
To lift from anxious and perplexing Care
A struggling Genius, plung'd in deep Despair,
Is Noble, Great, and Good—as it is Rare!
What pleasing Consciousness must fill Her Breast,
Whose happy Fiat said—let him be blest!
Henceforth let his lov'd Pen employ his Hands,
Pity so long degraded with a Flail;
Merit, tho' small, a better Fate demands,
The worthless Vulgar only let rough Want assail.
So the Deserts of Mortals from on high,
Are with the candid and judicious Eye
Of Heaven's great King beheld; who justly weighs,
And every Virtue bounteously repays.
How did my Soul the Royal Act applaud!
To raise from Poverty's most abject State,
And all the countless Ills which round her wait,
A Mind like Thine—proclaims the Goodness great!
To free from slavish Toil, from low Distress,
And give the Means to purchase Happiness;
To lift from anxious and perplexing Care
A struggling Genius, plung'd in deep Despair,
Is Noble, Great, and Good—as it is Rare!
What pleasing Consciousness must fill Her Breast,
Whose happy Fiat said—let him be blest!
Henceforth let his lov'd Pen employ his Hands,
Pity so long degraded with a Flail;
Merit, tho' small, a better Fate demands,
The worthless Vulgar only let rough Want assail.
So the Deserts of Mortals from on high,
Are with the candid and judicious Eye
Of Heaven's great King beheld; who justly weighs,
And every Virtue bounteously repays.
Cease then, censorious Criticks, to repine
At Virtues which approach so near Divine!
Nor seek for little Failings to accuse
A tender and uncultivated Muse:
In which, tho' you no master Strokes discern,
Think what could be expected from a Barn.
'Tis That exalts the Merits of his Cause;
And That, which ought to give your Fury Laws.
At Virtues which approach so near Divine!
5
A tender and uncultivated Muse:
In which, tho' you no master Strokes discern,
Think what could be expected from a Barn.
'Tis That exalts the Merits of his Cause;
And That, which ought to give your Fury Laws.
Were
his like Addison's immortal Rhime,
Where Judgment guides, and Genius shines sublime:
Did his like Prior's easy Numbers charm;
Or Pope's fine Paintings his Descriptions warm:
Did pregnant Fancy with her pictur'd Train,
With just Ideas furnish out his Brain:
Did Learning, Judgment, and a Taste refin'd,
At once spontaneous breed within his Mind;
He must be own'd the Wonder of Mankind.
Cease then, ill-judging Criticks! to degrade;
Can he be learned, who no Learning had?
We all are ign'rant till we're taught to know;
And none can fly—when learning but to go.
Where Judgment guides, and Genius shines sublime:
Did his like Prior's easy Numbers charm;
Or Pope's fine Paintings his Descriptions warm:
Did pregnant Fancy with her pictur'd Train,
With just Ideas furnish out his Brain:
Did Learning, Judgment, and a Taste refin'd,
At once spontaneous breed within his Mind;
He must be own'd the Wonder of Mankind.
Cease then, ill-judging Criticks! to degrade;
Can he be learned, who no Learning had?
We all are ign'rant till we're taught to know;
And none can fly—when learning but to go.
And now forgive that such a Muse as mine,
Brings her weak Aid to the Support of Thine;
In Verse, which if the World should chance to see,
They'd find I pleaded for my self—in Thee:
And these poor Lines would undergo the Fate,
Instead of Pity, to excite their Hate:
In vain 'twou'd be to plead in their Defence,
My Want of Learning, Genius, Wit, or Sense:
Such Pleas would but encrease my Guilt the more,
And render still less pard'nable th'Offence;
As Men ambitious to seem rich, when poor,
Get only laugh'd at for the vain Pretence.
Brings her weak Aid to the Support of Thine;
6
They'd find I pleaded for my self—in Thee:
And these poor Lines would undergo the Fate,
Instead of Pity, to excite their Hate:
In vain 'twou'd be to plead in their Defence,
My Want of Learning, Genius, Wit, or Sense:
Such Pleas would but encrease my Guilt the more,
And render still less pard'nable th'Offence;
As Men ambitious to seem rich, when poor,
Get only laugh'd at for the vain Pretence.
But tho' my Stock of Learning yet is low,
Tho' yet my Numbers don't harmonious flow,
I fain wou'd hope it won't be always so.
The Morning Sun emits a stronger Ray,
Still as he rises tow'rds Meridian Day:
Large Hills at first obstruct the oblique Beam,
And dark'ning Shadows shoot along the Gleam;
Impending Mists yet hover in the Air,
And distant Objects undistinct appear.
But as he rises in the Eastern Sky,
The Shadows shrink, the conquer'd Vapours fly,
Objects their proper Forms and Colours gain,
In all her various Beauties shines th'enlighten'd Plain.
Tho' yet my Numbers don't harmonious flow,
I fain wou'd hope it won't be always so.
The Morning Sun emits a stronger Ray,
Still as he rises tow'rds Meridian Day:
Large Hills at first obstruct the oblique Beam,
And dark'ning Shadows shoot along the Gleam;
Impending Mists yet hover in the Air,
And distant Objects undistinct appear.
But as he rises in the Eastern Sky,
The Shadows shrink, the conquer'd Vapours fly,
7
In all her various Beauties shines th'enlighten'd Plain.
So when the Dawn of Thought peeps out in Man,
Mountains of Ign'rance shade at first his Brain;
A Gleam of Reason by Degrees appears,
Which brightens and encreases with his Years:
And as the Rays of Thought gain Strength in Youth,
Dark Mists of Error melt, and brighten into Truth.
Mountains of Ign'rance shade at first his Brain;
A Gleam of Reason by Degrees appears,
Which brightens and encreases with his Years:
And as the Rays of Thought gain Strength in Youth,
Dark Mists of Error melt, and brighten into Truth.
Thus
asking Ign'rance will to Knowledge grow;
Conceited Fools alone continue so.
On then, my Friend, nor doubt but that in Time,
Our tender Muses, learning now to climb,
May reach Perfection's Top, and grow sublime.
The Iliad scarce was Homer's first Essay;
Virgil wrote not his Æneid in a Day:
Nor is't impossible a Time might be,
When Pope and Prior wrote like You and Me.
'Tis true, more Learning might their Works adorn,
They wrote not from a Pantry nor a Barn:
Yet They, as well as We, by slow Degrees
Must reach Perfection, and to write with Ease.
Conceited Fools alone continue so.
On then, my Friend, nor doubt but that in Time,
Our tender Muses, learning now to climb,
May reach Perfection's Top, and grow sublime.
The Iliad scarce was Homer's first Essay;
Virgil wrote not his Æneid in a Day:
Nor is't impossible a Time might be,
When Pope and Prior wrote like You and Me.
'Tis true, more Learning might their Works adorn,
They wrote not from a Pantry nor a Barn:
Yet They, as well as We, by slow Degrees
Must reach Perfection, and to write with Ease.
8
Have you not seen? Yes oft you must have seen,
When vernal Suns adorn the Woods with green,
And genial Warmth, enkindling wanton Love,
Fills with a various Progeny the Grove,
The tim'rous Young, just ventur'd from the Nest,
First in low Bushes hop, and often rest;
From Twig to Twig their tender Wings they try,
Yet only flutter when they seem to fly.
But as their Strength and Feathers more encrease,
Short Flights they take, and fly with greater Ease:
Experienc'd soon, they boldly venture higher,
Forsake the Hedge, to lofty Trees aspire;
Transported thence, with strong and steady Wing,
They mount the Skies, and soar aloft, and sing.
When vernal Suns adorn the Woods with green,
And genial Warmth, enkindling wanton Love,
Fills with a various Progeny the Grove,
The tim'rous Young, just ventur'd from the Nest,
First in low Bushes hop, and often rest;
From Twig to Twig their tender Wings they try,
Yet only flutter when they seem to fly.
But as their Strength and Feathers more encrease,
Short Flights they take, and fly with greater Ease:
Experienc'd soon, they boldly venture higher,
Forsake the Hedge, to lofty Trees aspire;
Transported thence, with strong and steady Wing,
They mount the Skies, and soar aloft, and sing.
So
You and I, just naked from the Shell,
In chirping Notes our future Singing tell:
Unfeather'd yet in Judgment, Thought, or Skill,
Hop round the Basis of Parnassus' Hill:
Our Flights are low, and Want of Art and Strength,
Forbids to carry us to the wish'd-for Length;
But fledg'd and strengthen'd with a kindly Spring,
We'll mount the Summit, and melodious sing.
In chirping Notes our future Singing tell:
Unfeather'd yet in Judgment, Thought, or Skill,
Hop round the Basis of Parnassus' Hill:
Our Flights are low, and Want of Art and Strength,
Forbids to carry us to the wish'd-for Length;
But fledg'd and strengthen'd with a kindly Spring,
We'll mount the Summit, and melodious sing.
FINIS.
| An Epistle From A Footman in London To the Celebrated Stephen Duck | |