Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, A LETTER OF ADVICE TO RIGHT HON. JOHN EARL OF ORRERY, by THOMAS SHERIDAN (1687-1738)



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

A LETTER OF ADVICE TO RIGHT HON. JOHN EARL OF ORRERY, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: My lord, I know not what you mean
Last Line: You may be justly ranked with men.
Subject(s): Orrery, John Boyle. 5th Earl (1707-1762)


My Lord, I know not what you mean,
By such encomiums on the Dean,
By choosing all your time to waste,
With one of his exploded taste!
From whence, my Lord, I plainly see
You've just as bad a taste as he;
Therefore to gain a reputation,
As you're a stranger in the nation,
Take my advice, avoid him quite,
And choose companions more polite.
'Twill cost you but a little pains
To single out a score of Deans,
Whose equals are not to be found
In Irish or in English ground;
For, here you can't be at a loss,
There is Dean D-----1 and Dean C-----,
And Dean I-----r and Dean S-----ne;
These are the men will make you shine,
And make mankind's united voice
Applaud you for so wise a choice.

Another fault -- forgive a friend --
You show, which I would have you mend;
I mean your pouring over books
(And one may see it in your looks)
While folks as noble born as you
More rational delights pursue,
As horses, drabs, and dogs, and dice,
And drinking hard, and dressing nice.
If thus, my Lord, you'd show your parts,
How soon you'd gain the ladies' hearts!
Not all the witty things you say,
Within the compass of day,
Could half that strong impression make,
As solitair, toupee and snake;
And this, experiment shall show:
Observe Clarinda with a beau,
While you yourself are sitting by;
She'll scarce vouchsafe you half an eye,
But rather hear him hum one tune,
Than hear you speak from June to June.

Another scand'lous thing, my Lord --
You walk the streets without a sword,
Alone without your footman Dick,
Without the ornamental stick;
I can assure you that some folks
On this occasion have their jokes.
I heard a beau, who shall be nameless,
Declare he thought your lordship shameless;
And thus went on: "I cannot bear
To see that lord without a chair;
The weather's fair I own; what then?
Peers should not walk like other men.
It is beneath their noble feet
To tread upon a filthy street."
This is the current cant that goes
Among the wisest of our beaux.
Pray don't give them such dire offence,
But shun the puppies of low sense,
Who make you basely turn aside
From nonsense, vanity and pride,
Those princely qualities which grace
The inward man of outward lace;
And then, my Lord, and not till then,
You may be justly ranked with men.





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