Posts tagged ‘1762’

Monday, 27 August 2018

Verses Sent by Lord Melcombe to Dr. Young, Not Long Before His Lordship’s Death by George Bubb Dodington

Kind companion of my youth,
Lov’d for genius, worth, and truth!
Take what friendship can impart,
Tribute of a feeling heart;
Take the muse’s latest spark,
Ere we drop into the dark.
He, who parts and virtue gave,
Bade thee look beyond the grave:
Genius soars, and virtue guides,
Where the love of God presides.
There’s a gulph ‘twixt us and God;
Let the gloomy path be trod:
Why stand shivering on the shore;
Why not boldly venture o’er;
Where unerring virtue guides
Let us brave the winds and tides:
Safe, thro’ seas of doubts and fears,
Rides the bark which virtue steers.


Date: c1762

By: George Bubb Dodington (1691-1762)

Sunday, 31 July 2016

The Hare and Tortoise, 1757. A Fable by Robert Lloyd

Genius, blest term, of meaning wide,
For sure no term so misapply’d,
How many bear thy sacred name,
That never felt a real flame!
Proud of the specious appellation,
Thus fools have christen’d inclination.

But yet suppose a genius true,
Exempli gratiĆ¢, me or you:
Whate’er he tries with due attention,
Rarely escapes his apprehension;
Surmounting ev’ry opposition,
You’d swear he learnt by intuition.
Shou’d he rely alone on parts,
And study therefore but by starts?
Sure of success whene’er he tries,
Should he forego the means to rise?

Suppose your watch a Graham make,
Gold, if you will, for value sake;
Its springs within in order due,
No watch, when going, goes so true;
If ne’er wound up with proper care,
What service is it in the wear?

Some genial spark of Phoebus’ rays,
Perhaps within your bosom plays:
O how the purer rays aspire,
If Application fans the fire!
Without it Genius vainly tries,
Howe’er sometimes it seems to rise:
Nay Application will prevail,
When braggart parts and Genius fail:
And now to lay my proof before ye,
I here present you with a story.

In days of yore, when time was young,
When birds convers’d as well as sung,
When use of speech was not confin’d,
Merely to brutes of human kind,
A forward Hare, of swiftness vain,
The Genius of the neighb’ring plain,
Wou’d oft deride the drudging croud:
For Geniuses are ever proud.
He’d boast, his flight ’twere vain to follow,
For dog and horse he’d beat them hollow,
Nay, if he put forth all his strength,
Outstrip his brethren half a length.

A Tortoise heard his vain oration,
And vented thus his indignation.
Oh Puss, it bodes thee dire disgrace,
When I defy thee to the race.
Come, ’tis a match, nay, no denial,
I lay my shell upon the trial.

‘Twas done and done, all fair, a bet,
Judges prepar’d, and distance set.

The scamp’ring Hare outstript the wind,
The creeping Tortoise lagg’d behind.
And scarce had pass’d a single pole,
When Puss had almost reach’d the goal.
Friend Tortoise, quoth the jeering Hare,
Your burthen’s more than you can bear,
To help your speed, it were as well
That I should ease you of your shell:
Jog on a little faster pr’ythee,
I’ll take a nap, and then be with thee.
So said, so done, and safely sure,
For say, what conquest more secure?
Whene’er he wak’d (that’s all that’s in it)
He could o’ertake him in a minute.

The Tortoise heard his taunting jeer,
But still resolv’d to persevere,
Still drawl’d along, as who should say,
I’ll win, like Fabius, by delay;
On to the goal securely crept,
While Puss unknowing soundly slept.

The bets were won, the Hare awake,
When thus the victor Tortoise spake.
Puss, tho’ I own thy quicker parts,
Things are not always done by starts.
You may deride my awkward pace,
But slow and steady wins the race.

From: Lloyd, Robert, Poems, 2009, University of Michigan Library: Ann Arbor, Michigan, pp. 34-38.

Date: 1762

By: Robert Lloyd (1733-1764)

Tuesday, 16 April 2013

A Dialogue by Elizabeth Carter

Says Body to Mind, ‘Tis amazing to see,
We’re so nearly related yet never agree,
But lead a most wrangling strange Sort of a Life,
As great Plagues to each other as Husband and Wise.
The Fault is all yours, who with flagrant Oppression,
Encroach ev’ry Day on my lawful Possession.
The best Room in my House you have seiz’d for your own,
And turn’d the whole Tenement quite upside down,
While you hourly call in a disorderly Crew
Of vagabond Rogues, who have nothing to do
But to run in and out, hurry scurry, and keep
Such a horrible Uproar, I can’t get to sleep.
There’s my Kitchen sometimes is as empty as Sound,
I call for my Servants, not one’s to be found:
They all are sent out on your Ladyship’s Errand,
To fetch some more riotous. Guests in, I warrant!
And since Things are growing, I see, worse and worse,
I’m determin’d to force you to alter your Course.

Poor Mind who heard all with extreme Moderation,
Thought it now Time to speak, and make her Allegation.
‘Tis I, that, methinks, have most Cause to complain,
Who am crampt and confin’d like a Slave in a Chain.
I did but step out, on some weighty Affairs,
To visit, last Night, my good Friends in the Stars,
When before I was got half as high as the Moon,
You dispatch’d Pain and Languor to hurry me down;
Vi & Armis they seiz’d me, in Midst of my flight,
And shut me in Caverns as dark as the Night.

‘Twas no more, reply’d Body, than what you deserv’d,
While you rambled Abroad, I at Home was half starv’d:
And, unless I had closely confin’d you in Hold,
You had left me to perish with Hunger and Cold.

I’ve a Friend, answers Mind, who tho slow, is yet sure,
And will rid me, at last, of your insolent Power:
Will knock down your Mud Walls, the whole Fabric demolish,
And at once your strong Holds and my Slav’ry abolish:
And while in the Dust your dull Ruins decay,
I shall snap off my Chains, and fly freely away.

From: Carter, Elizabeth, Poems On Several Occasions, John, Francis and Charles Rivington: London, 1776, pp. 25-27.

Date: 1762

By: Elizabeth Carter (1717-1806)