I danc'd and fondled on my knee,
A kitten both in size and glee!
I thank thee for my Purse.
Gold pays the worth of all things here;
But not of love ;-that gem's too dear
For richest rogues to win it;
I, therefore, as a proof of love,
Esteem thy present far above
The best things kept within it.
ON HER KIND PRESENT TO THE AUTHOR,
A Patch-work Counterpane of her own making.
THE Bard, if e'er he feel at all,
Must sure be quicken'd by a call,
Both on his heart and head,
To pay with tuneful thanks the care
And kindness of a lady fair,
Who deigns to deck his bed,
A bed like this, in ancient time,
On Ida's barren top sublime
(As Homer's epic shows)
Compos'd of sweetest vernal flowers,
Without the aid of sun or showers,
For Jove and Juno rose.
Less beautiful, however gay,
Is that which in the scorching day
Receives the weary swain ;
Who, laying his long scythe aside,
Sleeps on some bank, with daisies pied,
Till rous'd to toil again.
What labours of the loom I see!
Looms numberless have groan'd for me ;
Should every maiden come
To scramble for the patch, that bears
The impress of the robe she wears,
The bell would toll for some.
And O! what havoc would ensue !
This bright display of every hue
All in a moment fled !
As if a storm should strip the bowers
Of all their tendrils, leaves, and flowers,
Each pocketing a shred.
Thanks then to every gentle fair,
Who will not come to pick me bare
As bird of borrowed feather
And thanks to one, above them all,
The gentle Fair of Pirtenhall,
Who put THE WHOLE TOGETHER!
ADDRESSED TO LADY HESKETH.
THIS Cap, that so stately appears, With ribbon-bound tassel on high, Which seems by the crest that it rears Ambitious of brushing the sky: This Cap to my cousin I owe,
She gave it, and gave me beside, Wreath'd into an elegant bow,
The Ribbon with which it is tied.
This wheel-footed study ing chair, Contriv'd both for toil and repose, Wide-elbow'd and wadded with hair,
In which I both scribble and doze,
Bright studded to dazzle the eyes,
And rival in lustre of that,
In which, or astronomy lies,
Fair Cassiopeia sat.
These carpets, so soft to the foot,
Caledonia's traffic and pride!
O spare them, ye Knights of the Boot!
Escap'd from a cross country ride!
This table and mirror within,
Secure from collision and dust,
At which I oft shave cheek and chin,
And periwig nicely adjust.
This moveable structure of shelves,
For its beauty admir'd and its use,
And charg'd with octavos and twelves
The gayest I had to produce,
Where, flaming in scarlet and gold,
My poems enchanted I view,
And hope, in due time, to behold
My Iliad and Odyssey too.
This China, that decks th' alcove,
Which here people call a beaufette,
But what the gods call it above,
Has ne'er been reveal'd to us yet :
These curtains, that keep the room warm
Or cool, as the season demands;
Those stoves, that for pattern and form,
Seem the labour of Mulciber's hands.
All these are not half that I owe
To one from our earliest youth,
To me ever ready to show
Benignity, friendship, and truth;
For Time, the destroyer declar'd,
And foe of our perishing kind,
If even her face he has spar'd,
Much less could he alter her mind.
Thus compass'd about with the goods
And chattels of leisure and ease,
I indulge my poetical moods
In many such fancies as these ;
And fancies I fear they will seem,
Poets' goods are not often so fine;
The poets will swear, that I dream,
When I sing of the splendour of mine.
ON THE AUTHOR BECOMING ACQUAINTED WITH
WILLIAM HAYLEY, ESQ
MYSTERIOUS are his ways, whose power
Brings forth that unexpected hour,
When minds, that never met before,
Shall meet, unite, and part no more:
It is th' allotment of the skies,
The hand of the supremely wise,
That guides and governs our affections,
And plans and orders our connections.
MARY! I want a lyre with other strings;
Such aid from heaven, as some have feign'd they drew!
An eloquence scarce given to mortals, new,
And undebas'd by praise of meaner things!
That ere through age or wo I shed my wings,
I may record thy worth, with honour due,
In verse as musical as thou art true,
Verse, that immortalizes whom it sings !
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