The Poetical Works of Mr. William Pattison | ||
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To the Right Honourable the Lord CARTERET.
With an indulgent Smile, my Lord, excuseThis sadly-true Prediction of the Muse;
And may this single Specimen of Woe
Speak for the Rest, and all its Author show;
Nor blushing let me mourn my Youthful Hours,
As vainly spent in the Parnassian-Bowers.
By Nature prompted, and a Slave to Fate,
I strove to please the Witty, and the Great;
Presumptuous hence, nor without Hopes I come
To you, and from your Taste await my Doom;
From thence implore the Sanction of your Name,
To be my Pasport thro' the Gates of Fame.
So, Miners, first, the Bullion-Ore refine,
Then beg their Monarch's Stamp, to make it Currant-Coin.
The Poetical Works of Mr. William Pattison | ||