The poems and literary prose of Alexander Wilson ... for the first time fully collected and compared with the original and early editions ... edited ... by the Rev. Alexander B. Grosart ... with portrait, illustrations, &c |
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EPISTLE TO MR. J--- B---.
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 | The poems and literary prose of Alexander Wilson |  |
EPISTLE TO MR. J--- B---.
WITH P. ---'S POEMS.
These Poems, well known in the literary world, were sent to the Author by a friend, with this sincere and warm recommendation, of being the most chaste and delicate productions he had ever met with. Some of the pieces, however, appearing scarce worthy of such a character, occasioned the above Epistle.
With wond'rous delight I've now por'd o'er the pages,
Your goodness was pleas'd to remit me a while;
Which, tho' they have seen near a couple of ages,
Still flow in a simple, smooth beauty of style.
Wit here and there flashes, the reader alarming,
And Humour oft bends the pleas'd face to smile;
How sweetly he sings of his Chloe so charming;
How lofty of William's dread conquests and spoil.
Your goodness was pleas'd to remit me a while;
Which, tho' they have seen near a couple of ages,
Still flow in a simple, smooth beauty of style.
Wit here and there flashes, the reader alarming,
And Humour oft bends the pleas'd face to smile;
How sweetly he sings of his Chloe so charming;
How lofty of William's dread conquests and spoil.
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And, oh! how the heart with soft passion is moved,
While Emma pours out her fond bosom in song;
In tears I exclaim, Heav'ns! how the maid loved,
But ah! 'twas too cruel to try her so long.
But quickly young Laughter extirpates my mourning,
To hear the poor Doctor haranguing his wife;
Who stretch'd upon bed, lies tumultuously turning,
And pants to engage in sweet Venus's strife.
While Emma pours out her fond bosom in song;
In tears I exclaim, Heav'ns! how the maid loved,
But ah! 'twas too cruel to try her so long.
But quickly young Laughter extirpates my mourning,
To hear the poor Doctor haranguing his wife;
Who stretch'd upon bed, lies tumultuously turning,
And pants to engage in sweet Venus's strife.
In short, my good friend, I esteem him a poet,
Whose mem'ry will live while the luscious can charm;
And Rochester sure had desisted to shew it,
If conscious that P---r so keenly could warm.
So nicely he paints it, he words it so modest,
So swiftly he varies his flight in each line;
Now soaring on high, in expressions the oddest,
Now sinking, and deigning to grovel with swine.
Whose mem'ry will live while the luscious can charm;
And Rochester sure had desisted to shew it,
If conscious that P---r so keenly could warm.
So nicely he paints it, he words it so modest,
So swiftly he varies his flight in each line;
Now soaring on high, in expressions the oddest,
Now sinking, and deigning to grovel with swine.
The Ladle, O raptures! what bard can exceed it?
‘His modesty, sir, I admire him for that’—
Hans Carvel most gloriously ends when you read it,
But Paulo Purganti—how flaming! how fat!
Ten thousand kind thanks I return for your bounty;
For troth I'm transported whenever I think
How Fame will proclaim me aloud through each county,
For singing like P---r of ladles and stink.
‘His modesty, sir, I admire him for that’—
Hans Carvel most gloriously ends when you read it,
But Paulo Purganti—how flaming! how fat!
Ten thousand kind thanks I return for your bounty;
For troth I'm transported whenever I think
How Fame will proclaim me aloud through each county,
For singing like P---r of ladles and stink.
| The poems and literary prose of Alexander Wilson | |