For not the desk with silver nails, Nor standish well japann'd, avails Hear how a ghost in dead of night, Rare imp of Phoebus, hopeful youth! Ah! why did he write poetry, A desk he had of curious work, Now, as he scratch'd to fetch up thought, And from the keyhole bolted out, With whiskers, band, and pantaloon, This 'squire he dropp'd his pen full soon, Ho! master Sam, quoth Sandy's sprite, I hear the beat of Jacob's* drums, Then lords and lordlings, 'squires and knights, Beats up for volunteers. What Fenton will not do, nor Gay, If justice Philips' costive head Some frigid rhymes disburses: They shall like Persian tales be read, * Old Jacob Tonson, the editor of the Metamorphoses. + Pembroke, probably. Let Warwick's Muse with Ash--t join, And Pope translate with Jervas. L- himself, that lively lord, Ye ladies, too, draw forth your pen; I pray, where can the hurt lie? Since you have brains as well as men, As witness Lady Wortley. Now, Tonson, list thy forces all, Review them and tell noses : For to poor Ovid shall befal A metamorphosis more strange Than all his books can vapour "To what (quoth 'squire) shall Ovid change?" Quoth Sandys, "To waste paper." UMBRA. [Curll says this character was intended to ridicule a very worthy gentleman, probably Ambrose Philips.] CLOSE to the best known author UMBRA sits, "Who's here?" cries Umbra: "Only Johnson."* "O!. Your slave," and exit; but returns with Rowe: * Charles Johnson, a second rate dramatist, and great frequenter of Button's. Pope elsewhere classes him with Philips: "Lean Philips and fat Johnson." Farewell to London. Bowles. SYLVIA, A FRAGMENT. SYLVIA my heart in wondrous wise alarm'd, Now deep in Taylor, and the Book of Martyrs, Frail, feverish sex; their fit now chills, now burns: Atheism and superstition rule by turns; And a mere heathen in the carnal part, Is still a sad good Christian at her heart.* * I have been informed, on good authority, that this character was designed for the then Duchess of Hamilton. Warton. Swift describes this lady as handsome, airy, and violent tempered, with abundance of wit and spirit. See Swift's Works, vol. iii. p. 118. Sir W. Scott. |