The Works of the Late Aaron Hill ... In Four Volumes. Consisting of Letters on Various Subjects, And of Original Poems, Moral and Facetious. With An Essay on the Art of Acting |
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Verses written, on Windows in several Parts of the Kingdom, in a Journey to Scotland.
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 | The Works of the Late Aaron Hill |  |
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Verses written, on Windows in several Parts of the Kingdom, in a Journey to Scotland.
[Letters, from absent friends, extinguish fear]
Letters, from absent friends, extinguish fear,Unite division, and draw distance near;
Their magic force each silent wish conveys,
And wafts embody'd thought, a thousand ways:
Cou'd souls to bodies, write, death's power were mean,
For minds cou'd, then, meet minds, with heaven, between.
[Order! thou eye of action! wanting thee]
Order! thou eye of action! wanting thee,Wisdom works, hoodwink'd, in perplexity:
Entangled reason trips, at every pace,
And truth, bespotted, puts on error's face
[Tender-handed stroke a nettle]
Tender-handed
stroke a nettle,
And it slings you, for your pains:
Grasp it, like a man of mettle,
And it soft as silk, remains.
And it slings you, for your pains:
Grasp it, like a man of mettle,
And it soft as silk, remains.
121
'Tis the same, with common natures,
Use 'em kindly, they rebel:
But, be rough as Nutmeg-graters,
And the rogues obey you well.
Use 'em kindly, they rebel:
But, be rough as Nutmeg-graters,
And the rogues obey you well.
[How is the world deceiv'd, by noise, and show!]
How is the world deceiv'd, by noise, and show!Alas! how diff'rent, to pretend and know!
Like a poor, high-way brook, pretence runs loud
Bust'ling, but shallow, dirty, weak, and proud:
While, like some nobler stream, true knowledge glides,
Silently strong, and its deep bottom hides.
[Whig and Tory scratch and bite]
Whig and Tory scratch and bite,Just, as hungry dogs we see:
Toss a bone 'twixt two, they fight,
Throw a couple, they agree.
122
[Women talk of love for fashion]
Women talk of love for fashion,So they do, of Spirit's walking:
But no more they feel the passion,
Than they see the ghost of which they're talking.
[Have a care, gay, young, and wanton]
Have a care, gay, young, and wanton,Give no ground, for love to plant on;
Guard against the fair deceiver,
See and hear, but don't believe her:
Or, if nothing seems unjuster,
Than to love, and yet distrust her:
On your side to turn the laughter,
Try her, first, and trust her, after.
[Here, in wet, and windy, weather]
Here, in wet, and windy, weather,Muse, and I, two mopes, together,
Far, from friends and short of pleasure,
Wanting every thing, but leisure:
Scarce content, in any one sense,
Tell the showers, and scrible nonsense.
123
[Where'er the diamond's busy point could pass]
Where'er the diamond's busy point could pass,See! what deep wounds have pierc'd the middle glass!
While partial and untouching, all the rest,
Highest and lowest panes, shine, unimpress'd:
No wonder, this!—For, e'en in life, 'tis so;
High fortunes stand, unreach'd—unseen the low,
But middle states are marks, for every blow.
[As, in a journey, just begun]
As, in a journey, just begun,
We think the distance, vast,
Yet, while we travel, gayly, on,
Insensibly, 'tis past.
We think the distance, vast,
Yet, while we travel, gayly, on,
Insensibly, 'tis past.
So, in our youth, we measure slow,
Long views of promis'd breath:
'Till, like a shadow, out we go,
And vanish, into death.
Long views of promis'd breath:
'Till, like a shadow, out we go,
And vanish, into death.
124
[Were Women wise, their names on glass]
Were Women wise, their names on glass,
Light froth of empty fashion!
Wou'd, to their lovers sorrow, pass
For proofs of brittle passion.
Light froth of empty fashion!
Wou'd, to their lovers sorrow, pass
For proofs of brittle passion.
Love should, in secret, like the sun,
Burn, tho' a world should shade it;
But shows it source of heat, to none,
Except that God, who made it.
Burn, tho' a world should shade it;
But shows it source of heat, to none,
Except that God, who made it.
[Whisp'ring close a maid, long courted]
Whisp'ring close a maid, long courted,Thus, cry'd Drone, by touch transported;
Prithee, tell me, gentle Dolly!
Is not loving long a folly?
Yes, said she, with smile reproving,
Loving long, and only loving.
| The Works of the Late Aaron Hill | |