INTRODUCTION. "YOUR Poem, Sir, is very fine! 'Tis elegant-sublime-divine!" So when my epic had been read, A publisher most kindly said. Gay visions to my fancy came Of food, and decent clothes, and fame ; And I expected he would say, 66 Pray, take your dinner here to-day." But thus the subject he pursued, ""Tis too good for the multitude. Hereafter it will make a splash, But 'twill not bring you present cash. It peradventure may supply A bill drawn on posterity, This, honourably taken up, Will ne'er help you to dine or sup. No, it will make you known to Fame, But while your glorious niche is carving Then, 'twill requite your parting groan With deathless monumental stone. Now this, Sir, you must plainly see Is what will never do for me; You, immortality may crave, I-comfort, on this side the grave. You seek renown, but sleeping, waking, All I desire is something taking. He said, and bidding me "good morrow," Left me half petrified with sorrow. And, "O! ye gods," I cried, "whose aid Still glads the plodding sons of trade, And fills the sordid booby's bags, While wit pines pennyless in rags, (Here, but of course it was a joke, I own that of myself I spoke.) 66 "O! deign to bless an humble bard, With some small token of regard ! Though poets be a race that toil, To gain" the tribute of a smile ;" Yet blame me not, if I entreat, Some thrice a week a slice of meat; For Scribes, whate'er their wonted fare, Make but a sorry meal on air. O! let my song some beef produce! O! let my teeth come into use!" Thus I implored the pitying powers, To cheer my melancholy hours, 'Till comes the awful bugbear death, To bear the burden of my breath: To rob me, (0 prodigious gain!) Of all the consciousness of pain; When, suddenly came in my head, What by the tradesman last was said, |