Malvern Hills with Minor Poems, and Essays. By Joseph Cottle. Fourth Edition |
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Mr. BODY's REMONSTRANCE WITH HIS
DISSOLUTE MASTER, Mr. MIND.
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Mr. BODY's REMONSTRANCE WITH HIS DISSOLUTE MASTER, Mr. MIND.
WRITTEN IN WINTER.
WHY dost thou treat me thus, harsh master, say!
Why, with hard usage, wear me half away?
Perverse of spirit! thou, a jarring wire,
Lov'st what I loathe, and hat'st what I admire.
I like the simple beverage of the spring,
But east, and west, to thee their poisons bring,
And I (oh! woe to tell!) of abject state,
Must ope my mouth and drink, what most I hate.
Now beer, or burton deep, disturbs my crown,
Now porter, gross and heavy, weighs me down,
Now wines, with draught on draught, black, white, and red,
Before my sight a strange confusion spread;
And now (with grief I tell) comes piping toddy,
Or punch, to torture me afresh, poor body!
Whilst now, at once to undermine my lever,
Up comes sheer brandy, full of fire and fever,
I drink, till madness in my brain I feel,
And to the earth, like lead, instinctive reel!
Why, with hard usage, wear me half away?
Perverse of spirit! thou, a jarring wire,
Lov'st what I loathe, and hat'st what I admire.
I like the simple beverage of the spring,
But east, and west, to thee their poisons bring,
And I (oh! woe to tell!) of abject state,
Must ope my mouth and drink, what most I hate.
Now beer, or burton deep, disturbs my crown,
Now porter, gross and heavy, weighs me down,
Now wines, with draught on draught, black, white, and red,
Before my sight a strange confusion spread;
And now (with grief I tell) comes piping toddy,
Or punch, to torture me afresh, poor body!
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Up comes sheer brandy, full of fire and fever,
I drink, till madness in my brain I feel,
And to the earth, like lead, instinctive reel!
Now, good my Lord, can I my anguish smother,
That I should pull one way, and thou the other?
While thou dost wrong on wrong regardless heap,
Can I my woes forget, or cease to weep?
Full seventy years compose my mortal day,
But thy intemperance steals them half away.
From good plain beef and solid mutton sent 'e
Thou turnest, and disdain'st the vulgar plenty,
While nought but treble courses will content 'e;
These, to provide, with scout, and busy rover,
Sea, earth, and heaven itself, are ransack'd over,
And when they come, the very blind might stare,
Such loads of fish and fowl, such dainty fare,
Such game and venison, soups and conserves rare!
In truth, the groaning board, to fancy's eye,
Seems piled, like father Atlas, to the sky!
That I should pull one way, and thou the other?
While thou dost wrong on wrong regardless heap,
Can I my woes forget, or cease to weep?
Full seventy years compose my mortal day,
But thy intemperance steals them half away.
From good plain beef and solid mutton sent 'e
Thou turnest, and disdain'st the vulgar plenty,
While nought but treble courses will content 'e;
These, to provide, with scout, and busy rover,
Sea, earth, and heaven itself, are ransack'd over,
And when they come, the very blind might stare,
Such loads of fish and fowl, such dainty fare,
Such game and venison, soups and conserves rare!
In truth, the groaning board, to fancy's eye,
Seems piled, like father Atlas, to the sky!
Thou, while my stomach, stretched, spare inch contains,
Right on dost make me eat, till naught remains
But indigestion, source of aches and pains.
Thence sickness I endure, or surfeit, teasing,
Rheum makes me limp, or asthma sets me wheezing,
And now, to crown the sum of my deploring,
With swoln and bolster'd legs (o'er folly poring,)
Old gout, with horrid twitches, keeps me roaring!
I love the early hour, and when the sky
Darkness o'ercasts, in peaceful sleep to lie;
Thou scornest day, and (fetter'd still to wrong)
Stunnest dull night with revelry and song,
When, just as others rise, a goodly number,
Thou dragg'st me yawning back, like household lumber,
Amid the sun, in some dark nook to slumber!
Is this the way that we should both agree?
I, suffering, thou, inflicting misery?
Alas! my cruel Lord, that this should be!
Right on dost make me eat, till naught remains
But indigestion, source of aches and pains.
Thence sickness I endure, or surfeit, teasing,
Rheum makes me limp, or asthma sets me wheezing,
And now, to crown the sum of my deploring,
With swoln and bolster'd legs (o'er folly poring,)
Old gout, with horrid twitches, keeps me roaring!
I love the early hour, and when the sky
Darkness o'ercasts, in peaceful sleep to lie;
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Stunnest dull night with revelry and song,
When, just as others rise, a goodly number,
Thou dragg'st me yawning back, like household lumber,
Amid the sun, in some dark nook to slumber!
Is this the way that we should both agree?
I, suffering, thou, inflicting misery?
Alas! my cruel Lord, that this should be!
I had complain'd that I was forced to go
Without surtout, amid this hour of snow,
But, ere the words I spake, a damsel fair,
Shivering, drew nigh, her arms, her bosom bare,
Following the thoughtless crowd (Oh, wisdom brave!
Who love, with gauze, to dance it to the grave!)
Stamping, I cried, from fashion's slavish chain,
Boldly break loose, and clothing bear again;
Let prudence sway, let modesty restrain!
The damsel, coughing, cried, “Too late I sigh!
My mother taught me how to dress and die!”
Without surtout, amid this hour of snow,
But, ere the words I spake, a damsel fair,
Shivering, drew nigh, her arms, her bosom bare,
Following the thoughtless crowd (Oh, wisdom brave!
Who love, with gauze, to dance it to the grave!)
Stamping, I cried, from fashion's slavish chain,
Boldly break loose, and clothing bear again;
Let prudence sway, let modesty restrain!
The damsel, coughing, cried, “Too late I sigh!
My mother taught me how to dress and die!”
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