Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE AUTHOR'S COAT OF ARMS, by JOHN BYROM


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THE AUTHOR'S COAT OF ARMS, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Some sire of ours, beloved kinsfolk, chose
Last Line: "which makes its god the centre of its joy."
Subject(s): Authors & Authorship


Some sire of ours, beloved kinsfolk, chose
The Hedge-hog for his arms; I would suppose
With aim to hint instruction wise and good
To us, descendants of his Byrom blood:
I would infer, if you be of this mind,
The very lesson that our sire design'd.

He had observ'd that nature gave a sense
To ev'ry creature, of its own defence,—
Down from the lion with his tearing jaws,
To the poor cat that scratches with her paws,—
All shew'd their force, when put upon the proof
Wherein it lay,—teeth, talons, horn, or hoof.

Pleas'd with the Porcupine, whose native art
Is said to distance danger by his dart,
To rout his foes before they come too near,
From ev'ry hurt of close encounter clear;
This, had not one thing bated of its price,
Had been our worthy ancestor's device.

A foe to none, but ev'ry body's friend,
And loath, altho' offended, to offend,
He sought to find an instance, if it could
By any creature's art be understood,
That might betoken safety when attack'd,
Yet where all hurt should be a foe's own act.

At last the Hedge-hog came into his thought,
And gave the perfect emblem that he sought.
This little creature, all offence aside,
Rolls up itself in its own prickly hide
When danger comes; and they that will abuse,
Do it themselves, when their own hurt ensues.

Methinks, I hear the venerable sage,—
"Children! Descendants all thro' ev'ry age!
"Learn from the prudent Urchin in your Arms,
"How to secure yourselves from worldly harms.
"Give no offence,—to you if others will,
"Firmly wrapp'd up within yourselves, be still.

"This animal is giv'n for outward sign
"Of inward, true Sincerity Divine.
"Sharp on your minds let pointed virtues grow,
"That, without injuring, resist a foe;
"Surround with these an honest, harmless heart,
"And He that dwells in it will take your part.

"Whatever ills your Christian peace molest,
"Turn to the source of grace within your breast;
"There lies your safety—Oh! that all my kin
"May ever seek it,—where 'tis found,—within!
'No ills can ever long that soul annoy
"Which makes its God the centre of its joy."





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