Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, AN ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF ROMEO, A LADY'S LAP-DOG, by ROYALL TYLER


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

AN ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF ROMEO, A LADY'S LAP-DOG, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: If, when the stern unpitying hand of fate
Last Line: Copious bedew the consecrated urn.
Alternate Author Name(s): Old Simon; S.
Subject(s): Animals; Dogs


IF, when the stern unpitying hand of fate,
Hath snatch'd some beau, in pulville's fragrant bloom,
Clos'd the dear parrot's demi-human prate,
Or with some much-loved monkey swell'd the tomb;

If when these fav'rites of the female race,
Forsake their fond caresses, cares and smiles,
And transmigrated thro' unbounded space,
Promiscuous chat, and fawn in various stiles;

If these command the unavailing tear,
Inspire the breast, which tasty griefs pervade,
The lilly wringing hand, the sigh sincere
And all the pomp of sorrow's dun parade,

How must fair Delia's pensive bosom glow,
How woe, triumphant, swell her lovely eyes,
At thy sad death, sweet, gentle, Romeo,
Now fled from earth to puppify the skies!

Oh! say, ye human Lap-dogs, ye can tell,
Who, thro' the city swarm with well-dress'd pate,
Appendages of many a flaunting Belle,
Are not such pullies fashionably great?

Who then, more justly claims the female tear,
Among the semi-quadrupedal throng,
Than Romeo, -- coal black Romeo, sadly dear,
The theme elegiac, of this funeral song.

What tho's no tallow'd toupee, powder'd o'er,
The Gallic Friseur's labour e'er encreas'd;
Nor tail, but nat'ral, dangled to the floor,
T' adorn the person of this pretty beast.

Who tho' no Hessian hat's capacious brim
Conceal'd the living wonders of his head,
Nor o'er his features, regular and trim,
Were Magazines from beauteous snuff-box spread;

What tho' no taylor's new creative power,
(Whose cross-leg'd fiat, doth whole hosts compose)
E'er bade him strut, the fopling of an hour,
To charm the sex, like modern mushroom beaux.

Yet had sleek Romeo jetty, shining hair,
By nature dress'd -- besides a native queue,
Which dangled after Romeo, every where,
As two-legg'd puppies after ladies do.

And if no new cock'd-hat, in style immense,
Conceal'd the exterior beauties of his pate,
Sure this display'd a modern coxcomb's sense,
Two lengthen'd ears, and a long tongue to prate.

Erst in a sable full-dress was he clad,
Like the grave doctor, counsellor divine,
And own'd, combin'd, what few of those e'er had,
The talents and the clothes to make him shine.

Nor these alone, -- the accomplish'd Romeo knew
The novel tone of language and address;
Obsequious fawn'd, was learn'd, and witty too
As half his species, whom the town caress.

His gentle wooings, many a female pup,
On carpet Turkish, or soft damask bed;
Now weeping owns; while fancy conjures up
The tale be told, the tender tears be shed.

But ah! he's gone -- just like his name-sake Ro,
A fatal Juliet with her canine priest,
Entic'd him, am'rous, thro' the frost, and snow,
Till Death's maw took, keen-gorg'd, the puppy-feast.

Loud weep, ye lap-dogs, for your hero dead,
And oh! ye female pups the howl return!
And where yon hallow'd turf sustains his head,
Copious bedew the consecrated urn.





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