 | Rough Sketches of Bath, and Other Poems |  |
FASHION.
IMITATION OF HORACE—ODE I. BOOK I.
“Mæcenas, atavis edite regibus.”
Hail, Fashion! gay, capricious dame!
Past ages have revered thy name,
And humbly bent before thee;
And belles and beaux, in embryo now,
Before thy magic shrine shall bow,
And bucks unborn adore thee.
Past ages have revered thy name,
And humbly bent before thee;
And belles and beaux, in embryo now,
Before thy magic shrine shall bow,
And bucks unborn adore thee.
How many varied joys delight
Thy subjects, morning, noon, and night,
And make their moments pleasant:
With boots and military heels,
Some love to guide their tandem wheels,
And dash along the Crescent.
Thy subjects, morning, noon, and night,
And make their moments pleasant:
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Some love to guide their tandem wheels,
And dash along the Crescent.
This, fill'd with dreams of pomp and pride,
Hopes to become a noble bride,
And scorns plebeian offers;
That proves himself a rogue in grain,
And toils for ever to obtain
Fresh gold to fill his coffers.
Hopes to become a noble bride,
And scorns plebeian offers;
That proves himself a rogue in grain,
And toils for ever to obtain
Fresh gold to fill his coffers.
Another shuns the busy throng,
And seeks for happiness among
Paternal goods and chattels;
He never joins the herd who flock,
To gaze upon the Pump-Room clock,
And talk of balls and battles.
And seeks for happiness among
Paternal goods and chattels;
He never joins the herd who flock,
To gaze upon the Pump-Room clock,
And talk of balls and battles.
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The merchant dreads the stormy seas,
Commends tranquillity and ease,
'Till brighter beams are shining;
Then spreads his canvass to the wind,
Trusting in future years to find
For canvass bags a lining.
Commends tranquillity and ease,
'Till brighter beams are shining;
Then spreads his canvass to the wind,
Trusting in future years to find
For canvass bags a lining.
Some to the York Hotel resort,
And drown their cares in sparkling port,
For recreation seeking;
There talk of politics and dress—
At length grown weary of excess,
Break up—when day is breaking.
And drown their cares in sparkling port,
For recreation seeking;
There talk of politics and dress—
At length grown weary of excess,
Break up—when day is breaking.
One loves the trumpet's martial note,
And pants for pantaloons and coat,
Cut à la regimental;
Buys a barouche and chesnut steeds,—
Plays high—talks low—and never heeds
Anxieties parental.
And pants for pantaloons and coat,
Cut à la regimental;
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Plays high—talks low—and never heeds
Anxieties parental.
Of lyric inspiration proud,
I envy not the motley crowd—
Contented with my station;
While others dream of Hessian boots,
And choose the most prevailing suits,
I suit my inclination.
I envy not the motley crowd—
Contented with my station;
While others dream of Hessian boots,
And choose the most prevailing suits,
I suit my inclination.
Careless of sneers and critic rods,
My Muse shall raise me to the gods,
Above all earthly evil;
I'll neither dress, nor write by rule,
But be content to play the fool,
While others play the devil.
My Muse shall raise me to the gods,
Above all earthly evil;
I'll neither dress, nor write by rule,
But be content to play the fool,
While others play the devil.
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