The political and occasional poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed Edited, with notes, by Sir George Young |
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ODE TO POPULARITY. |
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 | The political and occasional poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed |  |
129
III. ODE TO POPULARITY.
130
“Quis multâ gracilis te puer in rosâ
Perfusus liquidis urget odoribus,
Grato, Pyrrha, sub antro?”
—Hor., I. 3.
Perfusus liquidis urget odoribus,
Grato, Pyrrha, sub antro?”
—Hor., I. 3.
O fondest—and O frailest fair
That ever made a poet swear,
Bewitching Popularity!
O patroness of songs and scents,
Of budgets and disfranchisements,
Of treason and vulgarity—
That ever made a poet swear,
Bewitching Popularity!
O patroness of songs and scents,
Of budgets and disfranchisements,
Of treason and vulgarity—
Tell me whom now your fickle pen
Pronounces first of mortal men
In magazine or journal?
For whom the golden lute you wake,
And whose renown you mean to make
For just nine weeks eternal?
Pronounces first of mortal men
In magazine or journal?
For whom the golden lute you wake,
And whose renown you mean to make
For just nine weeks eternal?
Dote you on Grey's experienced brow,
Because he's quite as silly now
As erst our fathers found him?
Or do you lead the approving cheer
When Baron Brougham, the peerless peer,
Is flinging dirt around him?
Because he's quite as silly now
As erst our fathers found him?
Or do you lead the approving cheer
When Baron Brougham, the peerless peer,
Is flinging dirt around him?
131
Does soft Sir James, by talking big
Of rope and cable, sloop and brig,
Persuade you he's a hero?
Or does Sir Thomas please you more
By telling, as he told before,
The history of Nero?
Of rope and cable, sloop and brig,
Persuade you he's a hero?
Or does Sir Thomas please you more
By telling, as he told before,
The history of Nero?
O Waterloo! You used to say
You never would forget the day
That cracked the French cuirasses;
But Wednesday last, at half-past ten,
You let the ragged gentlemen
Smash all his Grace's glasses.
You never would forget the day
That cracked the French cuirasses;
But Wednesday last, at half-past ten,
You let the ragged gentlemen
Smash all his Grace's glasses.
You know you've jilted St. John Long,
And bidden Southwark's noisy throng
Send poor Sir Robert packing;
You know, without a reason why,
You're burning Hunt in effigy,
And leaving off his blacking.
And bidden Southwark's noisy throng
Send poor Sir Robert packing;
You know, without a reason why,
You're burning Hunt in effigy,
And leaving off his blacking.
Happy on whom untried you smile!
He dreams not for how short a while
You solemnize the wedding;
How soon you jump from wreaths to stones,
From Wellington to Colonel Jones,
From kissing to beheading.
He dreams not for how short a while
You solemnize the wedding;
How soon you jump from wreaths to stones,
From Wellington to Colonel Jones,
From kissing to beheading.
132
Such stormy waves are not for me;
As Graham says, I've seen the sea
Suck down the struggling packet;
And I renounce the sail and oar,
And hang to dry upon the shore
My trousers and my jacket.
As Graham says, I've seen the sea
Suck down the struggling packet;
And I renounce the sail and oar,
And hang to dry upon the shore
My trousers and my jacket.
| The political and occasional poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed | |