So I, that love the old Augustan Days
Of formal Courtesies and formal Phrase;
That like along the finished Line to feel
The Ruffle's Flutter and the Flash of Steel;
That like my Couplet as compact as clear;
That like my Satire sparkling tho' severe,
Unmix'd with Bathos and unmarr'd by Trope,
I fling my Cap for Polish-and for POPE!
ESQ. OF ** WITH A LIFE OF THE LATE
INGENIOUS MR. WM. HOGARTH
I should address you a Rondeau,
Or else announce what I've to say
At least en Ballade fratrisée;
But No: for once I leave Gymnasticks,
And take to simple Hudibrasticks;
Why should I choose another Way,
When this was good enough for GAY?
You love, my FRIEND, with me, I think,
That Age of Lustre and of Link;
Of Chelsea China and long "s"es,
Of Bag-wigs and of flowered Dresses;
That Age of Folly and of Cards,
Of Hackney Chairs and Hackney Bards;
-No H-LTS, no K-G-N P-LS were then Dispensing Competence to Men;
The gentle Trade was left to Churls,
Your frowsy TONSONS and your CURLLS;
Mere Wolves in Ambush to attack
The AUTHOR in a Sheep-skin Back;
Then SAVAGE and his Brother-Sinners
In Porridge-Island div'd for Dinners;
Or doz'd on Covent Garden Bulks,
And liken'd Letters to the Hulks ;-
You know that by-gone Time, I say,
That aimless, easy-moral'd Day,
When rosy Morn found MADAM still
Wrangling at Ombre or Quadrille;
When good Sir JOHN reel'd Home to Bed,
From Pontack's or the Shakespear's Head;
When TRIP convey'd his Master's Cloaths,
And took his Titles and his Oaths;
While BETTY, in a cast Brocade,
Ogled MY LORD at Masquerade;
When GARRICK play'd the guilty Richard,
Or mouth'd Macbeth with MRS. PRITCHARD;
When FOOTE grimac'd his snarling Wit;
When CHURCHILL bullied in the Pit;
When the CuZZONI sang—
The farther Catalogue I spare,
Having no Purpose to eclipse
That tedious Tale of HOMER'S Ships ;--
This is the MAN that drew it all
From Pannier Alley to the Mall,
Then turn'd and drew it once again
From Bird-Cage Walk to Lewknor's Lane ;-
Its Rakes and Fools, its Rogues and Sots;
Its bawling Quacks, its starveling Scots;
Its Ups and Downs, its Rags and Garters,
Its HENLEYS, LOVATS, MALCOLMS, CHARTRES;
Its Splendour, Squalor, Shame, Disease;
Its quicquid agunt Homines;-
Nor yet omitted to pourtray
Furens quid possit Foemina;-
In short, held up to ev'ry Class
NATURE'S unflatt'ring looking-Glass ;
And, from his Canvass, spoke to All
The Message of a JUVENAL.
Take Him. His Merits most aver: His weak Point is-his Chronicler !
(TO JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL)
OT from the ranks of those we call
Philosopher or Admiral,—
Neither as LOCKE was, nor as BLAKE, Is that Great Genius for whose sake We keep this Autumn festival.
And yet in one sense, too, was he
A soldier of humanity;
And, surely, philosophic mind
Belonged to him whose brain designed
That teeming COMIC EPOS where,
As in CERVANTES and MOLIÈRE,
Jostles the medley of Mankind.
Our ENGLISH NOVEL'S pioneer!
His was the eye that saw first clear
How, not in natures half-effaced
By cant of Fashion and of Taste,—
Not in the circles of the Great,
Faint-blooded and exa.
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