Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, A MOCK INVOCATION TO GENIUS, SELECTION, by WILLIAM WOTY


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

A MOCK INVOCATION TO GENIUS, SELECTION, by                    
First Line: I now solicit not the muses nine
Last Line: The thought chaotic to prefulgid form.
Subject(s): Muses


I NOW solicit not the Muses nine,
Terpsichore jig-dancing, Clio famed
For bold romance in history, or thee,
Goddess land-measuring, Thalia called:
Nor thee, Euterpe! do I supplicate,
Flute-am'rous virgin, or that other maid,
Erato hight, renowned for wanton tale
Risiferous, or lively song jocose.
Urania too I leave, star-gazing fair,
And dear Calliope, who first produced
Harmonious bag-pipe, causing ev'ry child
In Scotland's dreary region to rejoice;
And thee, Melpomene! with blubbered face,
I quit disdainful; neither will I pay,
Hymn-singing methodist, of phiz demure,
Oh Polyhymnia! one salute to thee!
Sooner I'd kneel unto the modern nine
Alike perfectioned, though a virgin's name
They cannot boast—to hornpipe-loving Moll,
Nymph of the blackest eyes where all are black,
Born in some visto leading to the street
Expansive of Saint Giles—or unto thee
I'd rather bend, Oh ballad-learned quean,
Amber-haired Susan! thee, whose twanging voice
Hath often stopped the drayman and his dray.
Or sooner would I seek relief from Nell,
Town-tramping, oyster-laden—or from thee,
Soap-lathering Bess, the chief of all thy train,
Great mistress of the washing-tub, well-skilled
In friction ambidextrous. Ye, my fair!
Ye first should have my vows, green-vendent Peg!
(Than whom none sooner decks the verdant stall
With fruit cucumerous) and shrimp-crowned Doll,
In alehouse well-agnized, with brawny Jane,
Who constant plies the market, basket-armed.
Nor less doth deep-mouthed, piscatory Kate
(Whose voice is melody through all the realm
Of Billingsgate, admired for flow of words
And well-timed oratory, far beyond
Whate'er St. Stephen's clamant sons can boast),
Or brick-dust Nan attract my due regard.
But these I not invoke—for at thy shrine
Alone, Oh GENIUS! do I kneel devout
With galligaskins pure, that never yet
Needed the aid of dust-expelling brush.
Whate'er in future I presume to write
Adventurous—or grand majestic ode
Of import lofty, or the tender song
Dulci-sonant—or whether on the plain
Of panegyric smooth, with daisies pied,
My lays I frame, or tread the thorny road
That leads to where rough satire lifts her rod
Thrice dipped in brine—be ready to my aid,
Thou great original!—in each attempt
Do thou legitimate each bastard thought!
Teach me the bellows of thy forge to blow
With skill superior, and redoubled force
Super-vulcanian—so the mounting sparks
Of fire-eyed Fancy shall prevent their charms,
And on thine anvil shall I hammer out
The thought chaotic to prefulgid form.





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


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