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While genius, which too oft disdains
Yet while they spatter mutual dirt,
The prefatory, matter past The tale, or story comes at last.
A candle stuck in flaring state Within the nozel of French plate, Tow'ring aloft with smoaky light, The snuff and Aame of wond'rous height, (For, virgin yet of amputation, No force had check'd it's inclination)
Sullen address'd with conscious pride,
“ Lustre, good sir!” the snuffers cried, " Alas! how ignorant is pride!'
Thy light which wavers round the room, “ Shews as the counterfeit of gloom,
Thy snuff which idly tow'rs so high “ Will waste thy essence by and by, " Which, as I prize thy lustre dear " I fain would 'lop to make thee clear. 6. Boast not, old friend, thy random rays, “ Thy wasting strength, and quiv'ring blaze, “ You shine but as a beggar's link, “ To burn away, and die in stink, " No merit waits unsteady light, “ You must burn true as well as bright."
Poets like candles are all puffers, And critics are the candle snuffers..
ATTEMPTED IN THE MANNER OF MR. C. DENNIS.
INSCRIBED TO 7. WILKES, ESQ.
Labitur & labetur in omne volubilis ævum. Hoa.
A Genius (one of those I mean,
Once on a time incog came down From his equivocal dominions, And travell’d o'er a country town To try folks tempers and opinions. When to accomplish his intent (For had the cobler known the king, Lord ! it would quite have spoild the thing) In strange disguise he slily went And stump'd along the high-way track, With greasy knapsack at his back; And now the night was pitchy dark, Without one star's indulgent spark, Whether he wanted sleep or not, Is of no consequence to tell; A bed and lodging must be got, For geniuses live always well..
At the best house in all the town, (It was th' Attorney's you may swear) He knock'd as he'd have beat it down, Knock as you would, no entrance there. But from the window cried the dame, Go, sirrah go, from whence you came. Here, Nell, John, Thomas, see who knocks, Fellow, I'll put you in the stocks.
Be gentle ma'm, the Genius cried ;
of beer, a crust of bread-
'Twas all in vain ; she rang the bell, The servants trembl’d at the knell; Down flew the maids to tell the men, To drive the vagrant back
He trudg'd away in angry mind, And thought but cheaply of mankind, Till thro' a casement's dingy pane, A rush-light's melancholy ray, Bade him e'en try his luck again; Perhaps beneath a house of clay A wand'ring passenger might find A better friend to human kind, And far more hospitable fare, Tbo' not so costly, nice, or rare,