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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
ODE - 'ON A DISTANT PROSPECT' OF MAKING A FORTUNE, by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY Poet's Biography First Line: Now the 'rosy morn appearing' Last Line: "died, t. Mivins; of disgust." Subject(s): Ambition; Gray, Thomas (1716-1771) | |||
NOW the "rosy morn appearing" Floods with light the dazzled heaven; And the schoolboy groans on hearing That eternal clock strike seven: -- Now the waggoner is driving Tow'rds the fields his clattering wain; Now the blue-bottle, reviving, Buzzes down his native pane. But to me the morn is hateful: Wearily I stretch my legs, Dress, and settle to my plateful Of (perhaps inferior) eggs. Yesterday Miss Crump, by message, Mentioned "rent," which "p'raps I'd pay;" And I have a dismal presage That she'll call, herself, to-day. Once, I breakfasted off rosewood, Smoked through silver-mounted pipes -- Then how my patrician nose would Turn up at the thought of "swipes"! Ale, -- occasionally claret, -- Graced my luncheon then; -- and now I drink porter in a garret, To be paid for heaven knows how. When the evening shades are deepened, And I doff my hat and gloves, No sweet bird is there to "cheep and Twitter twenty million loves;" No dark-ringleted canaries Sing to me of "hungry foam;" No imaginary "Marys" Call fictitious "cattle home." Araminta, sweetest, fairest! Solace once of every ill! How I wonder if thou bearest Mivins in remembrance still! If that Friday night is banished From a once retentive mind, When the others somehow vanished, And we two were left behind: -- When in accents low, yet thrilling, I did all my love declare; Mentioned that I'd not a shilling -- Hinted that we need not care; And complacently you listened To my somewhat long address, And I thought the tear that glistened In the downdropt eye said Yes. Once, a happy child, I carolled O'er green lawns the whole day through, Not unpleasingly apparelled In a tightish suit of blue: -- What a change has now passed o'er me! Now with what dismay I see Every rising morn before me! Goodness gracious patience me! And I'll prowl, a moodier Lara, Thro' the world, as prowls the bat, And habitually wear a Cypress wreath around my hat: And when Death snuffs out the taper Of my Life (as soon he must), I'll send up to every paper, "Died, T. Mivins; of disgust." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LINES WRITTEN IN A CITY COMPOSING-ROOM by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS THE DESCENT OF TIMOTHY by JAMES HAY BEATTIE THOMAS GRAY by ARTHUR CHRISTOPHER BENSON WITH ILLUSTRATION TO GRAY'S POEMS by WILLIAM BLAKE ON GRAY'S ELEGY by CHARLES WILLIAM BRODRIBB SKETCH OF HIS OWN CHARACTER by THOMAS GRAY THE BEADLE'S ANNUAL ADDRESS by THOMAS HOOD IF GRAY HAD HAD TO WRITE HIS ELEGY IN CEMETERY OF SPOON RIVER ... by JOHN COLLINGS SQUIRE RETROGRESSION by WILLIAM WATSON HIC VIR, HIC EST' by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY |
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