 | Poems on several occasions |  |
653
TO MR. DAVY.
Dear Sir,—For such you are, who show
You love me, and dare tell me so;
Justly my verse to you I send,
Who prove in Devonshire a friend;
Glad of a friend, though Robin knows
I ne'er was troubled much at foes.
You love me, and dare tell me so;
Justly my verse to you I send,
Who prove in Devonshire a friend;
Glad of a friend, though Robin knows
I ne'er was troubled much at foes.
How happy glides my life away,
I almost am afraid to say,
Lest overstrain'd it seem to be,
And too poetic poetry.
Yet take it as it is: Believe,
Had I a purpose to deceive,
I would not first begin with you,
To tell a lying story to.
I almost am afraid to say,
Lest overstrain'd it seem to be,
And too poetic poetry.
Yet take it as it is: Believe,
Had I a purpose to deceive,
I would not first begin with you,
To tell a lying story to.
My fortune moderate I confess:
I well could like it, were it less.
Contented with it as it lies,
I don't expect to fall or rise.
No anxious thoughts my mind engross
With hope of gain or fear of loss;
Nor would I spend an hour to aim
At gaining that child's rattle, fame.
Plenty and peace my household bless,
And constant, cheerful cleanliness.
Here kings and lords and knights may see
True conjugal felicity.
No jars or jealousies are spread;
No rivalship divides the bed;
Nor time nor sickness can remove
The rooted friendship of our love.
My palace, built in Stuart's reign,
Ere Jekyl's Statute of Mortmain,
Pleasure affords without expense,
Retirement with magnificence.
Without, are beauteous prospects seen,
Gardens and river, hills and green.
Within, my books at will supply
Delightful, useful company.
And if there near my house could be
Neighbours like you but two or three,
Fancy itself could wish no more
Than to continue as before.
I well could like it, were it less.
Contented with it as it lies,
I don't expect to fall or rise.
No anxious thoughts my mind engross
With hope of gain or fear of loss;
Nor would I spend an hour to aim
At gaining that child's rattle, fame.
Plenty and peace my household bless,
And constant, cheerful cleanliness.
Here kings and lords and knights may see
True conjugal felicity.
No jars or jealousies are spread;
No rivalship divides the bed;
654
The rooted friendship of our love.
My palace, built in Stuart's reign,
Ere Jekyl's Statute of Mortmain,
Pleasure affords without expense,
Retirement with magnificence.
Without, are beauteous prospects seen,
Gardens and river, hills and green.
Within, my books at will supply
Delightful, useful company.
And if there near my house could be
Neighbours like you but two or three,
Fancy itself could wish no more
Than to continue as before.
If you abroad would have me go,
I can but tell you what you know,—
That I've alarm'd the country round
By raising board to twenty pound.
Huge provocation, I confess!
So great, it never will be less.
Poor Saunders drudged incessant here
The longer part of twenty year.
What riches did his kindred find?
He left his Victor plate behind.
Full thirty years has Rayner stay'd,—
Rayner, oft praised, but never paid.
His boarders, though so gainful thought,
Cost hundreds more than e'er they brought.
Would I afford to spend like those,
Or else like later masters lose;
And hold my tongue, and bite my lip,
For honour of the mastership;
Spend on my gentry every groat,
Obliged prodigiously for nought;
And, while I send my child to beg,
Pull off my hat, and make my leg;
Me doubtless half the shire would own
The rarest master e'er was known.
I can but tell you what you know,—
That I've alarm'd the country round
By raising board to twenty pound.
Huge provocation, I confess!
So great, it never will be less.
Poor Saunders drudged incessant here
The longer part of twenty year.
What riches did his kindred find?
He left his Victor plate behind.
Full thirty years has Rayner stay'd,—
Rayner, oft praised, but never paid.
His boarders, though so gainful thought,
Cost hundreds more than e'er they brought.
Would I afford to spend like those,
Or else like later masters lose;
655
For honour of the mastership;
Spend on my gentry every groat,
Obliged prodigiously for nought;
And, while I send my child to beg,
Pull off my hat, and make my leg;
Me doubtless half the shire would own
The rarest master e'er was known.
But I, alas! was born and bred
Just at preferment's fountain-head;
Might have had patrons not a few,
Adorn'd with garters green and blue;
Might long ere this have raised my style
To sing Newcastle or Argyle;
Perhaps by chancellors been known,
From Cowper quite to Talbot down.
But let each mortal, friend and foe,
(Who knows it not already,) know
That if I flatter man for gain,
That man shall be my sovereign.
Who next? I'll tell when it comes to;
Only it shall not be Sir Blue.
Just at preferment's fountain-head;
Might have had patrons not a few,
Adorn'd with garters green and blue;
Might long ere this have raised my style
To sing Newcastle or Argyle;
Perhaps by chancellors been known,
From Cowper quite to Talbot down.
But let each mortal, friend and foe,
(Who knows it not already,) know
That if I flatter man for gain,
That man shall be my sovereign.
Who next? I'll tell when it comes to;
Only it shall not be Sir Blue.
July, 1735.
| Poems on several occasions | |