SIR, or great grandsire, whose vast bulk may be A burying place for all your pedigree; Thou moving Coloss, for whose goodly face The Rhine can hardly make a looking-glass: What piles of victuals had thou need to chew, Ten woods or marrets' throats were not enough. Dwarf was he, whose wife's bracelet fit his thumb; It would not on thy little finger come: If Jove in getting Hercules spent three Nights, he might spend fifteen in getting thee: What name or title suits thy greatness, thou, @3Aldiboronifuscophonio@1? When giants warred with Jove, hadst thou been one, Where others oaks, thou would'st have mountains thrown; Wer'st thou but sick, what help could e'er be wrought, Unless physicians posted down thy throat; Were thou to die, and Xerxes living, he Would not pare Athos for to cover thee; Were thou t' embalm, the surgeons needs must scale Thy body, as when labourers dig a whale. Great Sir! a people kneaded up in one! We'll weigh thee by ship-burdens, not by th' stone. What tempests might'st thou raise, what whirlwinds when Thou breathes, thou great Leviathan of men! Bend but thine eye, a countryman would swear A regiment of Spaniards quartered there: Smooth but thy brow, they'll say there were a plain T' act York and Lancaster once o'er again! That pocket pistol of the queen's might be Thy pocket pistol, sans hyperbole; Abstain from garrisons, since thou may eat The Turk's or Mogul's titles at a bit: Plant some new land, which ne'er will empty be, If she enjoy her savages in thee: Get from amongst us, since we only can Appear like skulls march'd o'er by Tamberlane. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...COUNTRY SCHOOLROOM, ADIRONDACK MOUNTAINS by LOUIS UNTERMEYER HE'D BE NOTHING BUT HIS VIOLIN by MARY KYLE DALLAS MY PICTURE LEFT IN SCOTLAND by BEN JONSON PICTURES FROM APPLEDORE: 2 by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL THE VOYAGE TO VINLAND: 3. GUDRIDA'S PROPHECY by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL IN AN ARTIST'S STUDIO by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI |