Rough Sketches of Bath, and Other Poems By Thomas Bayly ... Fifth Edition, with Additions |
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Epistle FROM Q. TO HIS SISTER JANE,
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 | Rough Sketches of Bath, and Other Poems |  |
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Epistle FROM Q. TO HIS SISTER JANE,
ON HIS ARRIVAL IN BATH.
At length, dearest Sister, I sit down to write
An account of our movements by day and by night;
My lodgings are small, but excessively neat,
And stand in a very respectable street;
And there from my windows without going out
I can see what the people of ton are about;
There snug and unseen I distinctly can trace
Each new variation of figure and face:
And there of a morning I sit, I confess,
And make memorandums on fashion and dress;
As the dandies pass by me, or lounge at a shop,
I take their dimensions from bottom to top,
With infinite pains I survey them, and note
Their looseness of manners, and tightness of coat;
I sketch every movement, each step, and each look,
And write them all down in a little blank book,
And then at my leisure I read them all over,
The requisite charms of a beau to discover;
I carefully view my collection of samples,
Extracting the first and most finished examples,—
The worst I reject, but the best I combine,
And form from their manners a model for mine.
An account of our movements by day and by night;
My lodgings are small, but excessively neat,
And stand in a very respectable street;
And there from my windows without going out
I can see what the people of ton are about;
There snug and unseen I distinctly can trace
Each new variation of figure and face:
And there of a morning I sit, I confess,
And make memorandums on fashion and dress;
As the dandies pass by me, or lounge at a shop,
I take their dimensions from bottom to top,
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Their looseness of manners, and tightness of coat;
I sketch every movement, each step, and each look,
And write them all down in a little blank book,
And then at my leisure I read them all over,
The requisite charms of a beau to discover;
I carefully view my collection of samples,
Extracting the first and most finished examples,—
The worst I reject, but the best I combine,
And form from their manners a model for mine.
By these common-place notes I contrive with great ease,
To make an appearance as gay as I please,
And thus (though a novice) I sometimes am drest
More delightfully odd and outré than the rest,
For while all are in search of new fancies, and each
Endeavours some new point of folly to reach,
One peep from my window's sufficient for me,
And I quickly monopolise all that I see;
Thus when I appear, and my toilet is done,
The charms of the million are centred in one.
Like Authors I've heard of, who flourish alone,
By passing off other men's thoughts as their own,
Who peep out like me, and as slily convey
Their second-hand verse in an under-hand way.
To make an appearance as gay as I please,
And thus (though a novice) I sometimes am drest
More delightfully odd and outré than the rest,
For while all are in search of new fancies, and each
Endeavours some new point of folly to reach,
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And I quickly monopolise all that I see;
Thus when I appear, and my toilet is done,
The charms of the million are centred in one.
Like Authors I've heard of, who flourish alone,
By passing off other men's thoughts as their own,
Who peep out like me, and as slily convey
Their second-hand verse in an under-hand way.
Thus you see, my dear Sister, I'm in a fair way
To rival the very first buck of the day,—
My idol is Fashion, and let them take heed,
Though I now follow others, ere long I may lead:
Though a copy at present, perhaps you may see
An original sample of folly in me,
When, laying my little blank book on the shelf,
I set up a pattern of manners myself.
To rival the very first buck of the day,—
My idol is Fashion, and let them take heed,
Though I now follow others, ere long I may lead:
Though a copy at present, perhaps you may see
An original sample of folly in me,
When, laying my little blank book on the shelf,
I set up a pattern of manners myself.
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I also perceive, as I sit in my room,
The new importations of female costume;
I know when I left my paternal abode,
You thought yourself quite in the pink of the mode,
In fact it was treason in any to doubt it,—
But, permit me to say, you knew nothing about it.
The new importations of female costume;
I know when I left my paternal abode,
You thought yourself quite in the pink of the mode,
In fact it was treason in any to doubt it,—
But, permit me to say, you knew nothing about it.
You first must observe, it is proper to wear
A sort of plantation arranged in your hair:
At the balls and the plays all the Ladies I see,
Look exactly like Daphne turn'd into a tree:
How blest are the moments when Fashion allows
Fresh roses to bloom on a young Lady's brows;
It ever must sanction her smiles when she knows
That all her flirtations are under the rose.
A sort of plantation arranged in your hair:
At the balls and the plays all the Ladies I see,
Look exactly like Daphne turn'd into a tree:
How blest are the moments when Fashion allows
Fresh roses to bloom on a young Lady's brows;
It ever must sanction her smiles when she knows
That all her flirtations are under the rose.
Fashion changes each month, and new models her throng—
Now waists are all short, and then waists are all long;
Fresh wreaths in the garden of Fancy they cull—
Now dresses are scanty, and then they are full;
Unique compositions they eagerly view,
Exhausting old shapes, and imagining new;
And now all the damsels intend, I believe,
To try the costume of their grandmother Eve.
Now waists are all short, and then waists are all long;
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Now dresses are scanty, and then they are full;
Unique compositions they eagerly view,
Exhausting old shapes, and imagining new;
And now all the damsels intend, I believe,
To try the costume of their grandmother Eve.
But, belles, be advised, for 'tis folly to waste
These gratuitous sights upon men of no taste;
All beaux of discernment have now seen enough
Of the delicate white and the beautiful buff;
And when, for the good and amusement of man,
You strip your fair shoulders, and shew all you can,
We're really inclined to believe you deplore
That foolish decorum wont let you shew more;
And we often conclude, after all we have seen,
So much nature without shews the nature within.
These gratuitous sights upon men of no taste;
All beaux of discernment have now seen enough
Of the delicate white and the beautiful buff;
And when, for the good and amusement of man,
You strip your fair shoulders, and shew all you can,
We're really inclined to believe you deplore
That foolish decorum wont let you shew more;
And we often conclude, after all we have seen,
So much nature without shews the nature within.
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Oh, Woman!—by Nature ordain'd to bestow
Every joy that enlivens us pilgrims below;
Through life ever hovering near to assuage
The ills that assail us from boyhood to age;
In every affliction man's surest relief,—
In sickness his nurse, and his solace in grief;
When his spirit is clouded by error and shame,
Her tenderness still may the truant reclaim;
And he whom no threats and no terrors could move,
Will bow to the milder dominion of love.
Every joy that enlivens us pilgrims below;
Through life ever hovering near to assuage
The ills that assail us from boyhood to age;
In every affliction man's surest relief,—
In sickness his nurse, and his solace in grief;
When his spirit is clouded by error and shame,
Her tenderness still may the truant reclaim;
And he whom no threats and no terrors could move,
Will bow to the milder dominion of love.
In the realms of the gay we behold her advance,
All lightness and loveliness joining the dance;
But the revellers gone, in seclusion she moves,
Regardless of all save the one that she loves.
All lightness and loveliness joining the dance;
But the revellers gone, in seclusion she moves,
Regardless of all save the one that she loves.
Enchantress! adorn'd with attractions like these,
In mind and in person created to please;
Oh! why will you sully the charms you possess,
Instructing mankind how to worship you less,
Thus, perfect by Nature, can Fashion impart
One additional charm with the finger of art?
No—fruitless the search for fresh beauties must be,
While all that is beautiful centres in thee.
In mind and in person created to please;
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Instructing mankind how to worship you less,
Thus, perfect by Nature, can Fashion impart
One additional charm with the finger of art?
No—fruitless the search for fresh beauties must be,
While all that is beautiful centres in thee.
If still thou wouldst reign, and for ever receive
That homage which man is ambitious to give,
Oh! yield not to art's insignificant wiles,—
Be omnipotent only in dimples and smiles.
That homage which man is ambitious to give,
Oh! yield not to art's insignificant wiles,—
Be omnipotent only in dimples and smiles.
Perhaps, my dear Sister, you think I had better
Have spared this digression, and stuck to my letter:
But when woman's the theme you may surely excuse
The wildest career of a masculine Muse,—
'Tis the heart, not the judgment, that governs the pen,
When female perfections are painted by men.
Have spared this digression, and stuck to my letter:
But when woman's the theme you may surely excuse
The wildest career of a masculine Muse,—
'Tis the heart, not the judgment, that governs the pen,
When female perfections are painted by men.
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I know you will say I am very remiss,
For not having sent to you long before this;
But really this place is so charmingly gay,
What with dancing all night, promenading all day—
What with learning each new-fangled air to attain—
What with dressing, undressing, and dressing again,
And flirting with women, and lounging with men,
I have not had leisure to take up my pen.
For not having sent to you long before this;
But really this place is so charmingly gay,
What with dancing all night, promenading all day—
What with learning each new-fangled air to attain—
What with dressing, undressing, and dressing again,
And flirting with women, and lounging with men,
I have not had leisure to take up my pen.
I subscribe to a library, where I can look
In a new magazine, or a popular book;
And there all the Ladies and Gentlemen sit,
Surrounded by volumes of wisdom and wit;
But the wisdom and wit remain on the shelves,—
They seem not to covet an atom themselves:
The classics are lost on these babes in the wood,
How can they be relished when not understood?
The force of sound argument sets them to sleep.
For shallow capacities prose is too deep,
And poetry, too, no attention can call:—
Duodecimos, quartos, octavos, and all!
And Helicon's stream they untasted condemn,
As Lethe is far better suited to them.
Surveying the bindings, directed by chance,
They dip in a novel, or skim a romance;
Intellectual joys are undoubtedly felt,
When gazing on vellum, morocco, and gilt,
In a volume in boards no attractions are found—
Verse only can charm, when 'tis charmingly bound.
In a new magazine, or a popular book;
And there all the Ladies and Gentlemen sit,
Surrounded by volumes of wisdom and wit;
But the wisdom and wit remain on the shelves,—
They seem not to covet an atom themselves:
The classics are lost on these babes in the wood,
How can they be relished when not understood?
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For shallow capacities prose is too deep,
And poetry, too, no attention can call:—
Duodecimos, quartos, octavos, and all!
And Helicon's stream they untasted condemn,
As Lethe is far better suited to them.
Surveying the bindings, directed by chance,
They dip in a novel, or skim a romance;
Intellectual joys are undoubtedly felt,
When gazing on vellum, morocco, and gilt,
In a volume in boards no attractions are found—
Verse only can charm, when 'tis charmingly bound.
This beautiful city continues to fill,
And the routes, balls, and card parties multiply still,
And daily the pump-room arrival-book claims
A charming addition of elegant names.
No doubt you will wonder how strangers contrive
To collect crowds of visitors when they arrive;
But 'tis easily managed, provided they shine
With plenty of supper, and plenty of wine.
And let me assure you midst people of ton,
A score may as soon be collected, as one.
If a stranger is rich, he possesses the power
Of forming an intimate friend in an hour.
When first introduced, by some wonderful charm,
Men's affections are link'd, and they walk arm in arm,—
But no very lasting communion they seek,
They will probably cut at the end of the week;
Perhaps one (all tender emotions to smother)
With affectionate ardour will horsewhip the other,
Or each seek his friend, taking infinite pains,
By a lasting impression to blow out his brains.
And the routes, balls, and card parties multiply still,
And daily the pump-room arrival-book claims
A charming addition of elegant names.
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To collect crowds of visitors when they arrive;
But 'tis easily managed, provided they shine
With plenty of supper, and plenty of wine.
And let me assure you midst people of ton,
A score may as soon be collected, as one.
If a stranger is rich, he possesses the power
Of forming an intimate friend in an hour.
When first introduced, by some wonderful charm,
Men's affections are link'd, and they walk arm in arm,—
But no very lasting communion they seek,
They will probably cut at the end of the week;
Perhaps one (all tender emotions to smother)
With affectionate ardour will horsewhip the other,
Or each seek his friend, taking infinite pains,
By a lasting impression to blow out his brains.
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Whatever has novelty surely is best,
And friends need replacing as well as the rest;
When weary of one, we are certain to find
In a moment another that's more to our mind:
To tales of old friendships pray who will attend,
Since the older a thing is—the nearer its end?
And friends need replacing as well as the rest;
When weary of one, we are certain to find
In a moment another that's more to our mind:
To tales of old friendships pray who will attend,
Since the older a thing is—the nearer its end?
Perhaps, after this, you will not disapprove,
If I offer a few observations on love;
Not the rural delights of a mutual passion,
But what passes for love with people of fashion.
Most men will allow that no wife is the worse
For being possess'd of some cash in her purse;
But of beauties there must be a wonderful dearth,
If the weight of her riches can add to her worth.
All suitors at present appear to commence
A new mode of measuring beauty and sense,—
The woman no value on wealth can confer,
Since now 'tis the wealth that gives value to her:
Though the belles are delightful, in Bath, I am told,
That at present the real belle metal is gold.
In old-fashion'd times, I am told, it was common
For a man to be struck with the charms of a woman,
And next of her chattels he took an account,
And thus of their means ascertain'd the amount.
By a different method these things are now reckon'd,
The fortune comes first, and the woman comes second,—
And the fortune once gain'd, their regret would be small
If the woman were not to be thought of at all:
All love is absurd, and affection is stuff,
Any woman will do who is gilded enough:
Matrimonial forms they genteelly rehearse,
And he takes the Lady “for better for worse,”—
And whilst the word “better,” alludes to her pelf,
The second word “worse,” seems applied to herself.
If I offer a few observations on love;
Not the rural delights of a mutual passion,
But what passes for love with people of fashion.
Most men will allow that no wife is the worse
For being possess'd of some cash in her purse;
But of beauties there must be a wonderful dearth,
If the weight of her riches can add to her worth.
All suitors at present appear to commence
A new mode of measuring beauty and sense,—
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Since now 'tis the wealth that gives value to her:
Though the belles are delightful, in Bath, I am told,
That at present the real belle metal is gold.
In old-fashion'd times, I am told, it was common
For a man to be struck with the charms of a woman,
And next of her chattels he took an account,
And thus of their means ascertain'd the amount.
By a different method these things are now reckon'd,
The fortune comes first, and the woman comes second,—
And the fortune once gain'd, their regret would be small
If the woman were not to be thought of at all:
All love is absurd, and affection is stuff,
Any woman will do who is gilded enough:
Matrimonial forms they genteelly rehearse,
And he takes the Lady “for better for worse,”—
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The second word “worse,” seems applied to herself.
Entre nous, my dear sister, I'll venture to say,
When I wed, it shall be in a different way:
Those who marry for money, too often may prove
That their help-mates may afterwards wander for love.
And though love and short commons may make a man mad,
To me Doctors' Commons seem equally bad.
When I wed, it shall be in a different way:
Those who marry for money, too often may prove
That their help-mates may afterwards wander for love.
And though love and short commons may make a man mad,
To me Doctors' Commons seem equally bad.
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