'Tis rumour'd, Budgell on a time Writing a Sonnet, cou'd not rhime; Was he discouragd? no such matter; He'd write in Prose -- To the Spectator. There too Invention faild of late: What then? Gad damn him, he'd Translate, Not Verse, to that he had a Pique -- From French? He scornd it; no, from Greek. He'd do't; and ne'r stand Shill -- I Shall -- I, Ay, and inscribe to Charles Lord Halli -- Our Gallo-Grecian at the last Has kept his word, here's Teophraste. How e're be not too vain, Friend Budgell! Men of Ill Hearts, you know, will judge ill. Some flatly say, the Book's as ill done, As if by Boyer, or by Gildon; Others opine you only chose ill, And that this Piece was meant for Ozell. For me, I think (in spite of Blunders) You may, with Addison, do wonders. But faith I fear, some Folks beside These smart, new Characters supplyd. The honest Fellow out at Heels Pray between Friends, was not that Steel's? The Rustic Lout so like a Brute, Was Philips's beyond Dispute. And the fond Fop so clean contrary, Tis plain, tis very plain, was Cary. Howe're, the Coxcomb's thy own Merit, That thou hast done, with Life and Spirit. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NAPEOLON'S FAREWELL; FROM THE FRENCH by GEORGE GORDON BYRON THE HOMERIC HEXAMETER [DESCRIBED AND EXEMPLIFIED] by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE ABSINTHE-DRINKER by ARTHUR WILLIAM SYMONS CIRCUS AT NIGHT by MADELEINE AARON LYRICS AND EPICS by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH SAW YE JOHNNIE COMIN'? by JOANNA BAILLIE ROSA MUNDI by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |