Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, EPISTLE TO HIS SON-IN-LAW, JOHN GIBSON LOCKHART, by WALTER SCOTT


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

EPISTLE TO HIS SON-IN-LAW, JOHN GIBSON LOCKHART, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Dear john - I some time ago wrote to inform his
Last Line: Dog shall be deemed if you fasten your janua.
Subject(s): Lockhart, John Gibson (1794-1854)


'DEAR JOHN, -- I some time ago wrote to inform his
Fat worship of jaces, misprinted for dormis;
But that several Southrons assured me the januam
Was a twitch to both ears of Ass Priscian's cranium.
You, perhaps, may observe that one Lionel Berguer,
In defence of our blunder appears a stout arguer:
But at length I have settled, I hope, all these clatters,
By a rowt in the papers -- fine place for such matters.
I have, therefore, to make it for once my command, sir,
That my gudeson shall leave the whole thing in my hand, sir,
And by no means accomplish what James says you threaten,
Some banter in Blackwood to claim your dog-Latin.
I have various reasons of weight, on my word, sir,
For pronouncing a step of this sort were absurd, sir,
Firstly, erudite sir, 'twas against your advising
I adopted the lines this monstrosity lies in;
For you modestly hinted my English translation
Would become better far such a dignified station.
Second -- how, in God's name, would my bacon be saved,
By not having writ what I clearly engraved?
On the contrary, I, on the whole, think it better
To be whipped as the thief, than his lousy resetter.
Thirdly -- don't you perceive that I don't care a boddle
Although fifty false metres were flung at my noddle,
For my back is as broad and as hard as Benlomon"s,
And I treat as I please both the Greeks and the Romans;
Whereas the said heathens might rather look serious
At a kick on their drum from the scribe of Valerius.
And, fourthly and lastly -- it is my good pleasure
To remain the sole source of that murderous measure.
So stet pro ratione voluntas -- be tractile,
Invade not, I say, my own dear little dactyl;
If you do, you'll occasion a breach in your intercourse.
To-morrow will see me in town for the winter-course,
But not at your door, at the usual hour, sir,
My own pye-house (pious!) daughter's good prog to devour, sir.
Ergo -- peace! -- on your duty, your squeamishness throttle,
And we'll soothe Priscian's spleen with a canny third bottle.
A fig for all dactyls, a fig for all spondees,
A fig for all dunces and dominie Grundys;
A fig for dry thrapples, south, north, east, and west, sir,
Speates and raxes ere five for a famishing guest, sir;
And as Fatsman and I have some topics for haver, he'll
Be invited, I hope, to meet me and Dame Peveril,
Upon whom, to say nothing of Oury and Anne, you a
Dog shall be deemed if you fasten your janua.





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net