Classic Poem

A saunt'ring on the sacred way ,
(As is my custom every day)
Upon some trivial thing intent,
With all my thoughts engag'd, I went.
When, lo! a chap, whom by his name
I barely knew, abruptly came,
And grasping hard my hand in his,
" How does the dearest man, that is?"
" The times consider'd, I can do ,
With my best wishes, Sir, for you."
But finding that he still kept on,
I ask'd him, what he was upon?
He answer'd, " Sir, you must know ME ,
A scholar of the first degree." —
I told him on that very score,
He must of me be priz'd the more.
Now in the last distress my pace
I mend, and sometime for a space
Stand still — and whisper to my lad,
Sweating from head to foot, like-mad:
O blest Bollanus! in my heart
I said, ev'n blockhead as thou art!
Still he went on my ears to greet,
" A noble town! a glorious street!"
Whatever came into his head;
But when he found I nothing said,
Says he, " I know you are in pain
To get away, 'tis very plain.
But you are ne'er the near, good friend!
I'll still keep up, and still attend —
And pray, Sir, which way is your route?"
— " You need not go so much about.
It is upon a man to wait,
You do not know at any rate,
Across the Tiber, and as far
Almost, as Caesar's gardens are."
" Brisk, and quite disengaged, I'll cleave
Unto your honour, by your leave."
Here brought to such a sorry pass,
I hang my ears, like some poor ass,
Whose grudging spirit cannot bear
A heavier burthen, than is fair.
Again his tongue began to run,
" Me, if you knew, you wou'd not shun,
Nor wou'd ev'n Viscus close ally ,
Or Varius be more dear than I.
For who's a better bard than me,
Or writes so fast, or flows so free?
Who dances with an easier grace?
Then for your treble and your base,
I raise with voice so tun'd to please,
The envy of Hermogenes." —
Here was a respite, to thrust in
A word or two — " Have you no kin,
Are you no mother's darling hope,
Who would not wish you to elope?" —
" — No not a soul — I've buried all." —
Thrice blessed in their funeral.
Alas! now I alone survive,
Dispatch and havock me alive.
For now the hour is come, foretold
By Sabine sorceress of old,
When for my fate her urn she shook —
" This child (I read it in his look)
Nor poison, nor the hostile spear,
Nor pleurisy, nor cough need fear —
Nor shall the gout affect his brain;
Born by a babbler to be slain;
Such he'll avoid, if he is sage,
Shou'd he but live, and come of age." —
To Vesta's now (one fourth of day
Quite gone and spent) we made our way.
And he, by a most lucky chance,
Was call'd upon recognizance,
Which if he shou'd neglect to do,
An instant non-suit must ensue.
" Step in (says he) my dearest bard,
If you retain the least regard." —
" 'Sdeath! Sir, I scarce can stand or go,
And hurry to the place, you know —
Nor am I vers'd in civil law."
Says he, " Now whether to withdraw
From you, or to desert my cause,
Is that on which I needs must pause." —
" Me, Sir, I beg you would forbear" —
" I cannot do it, Sir, I swear." —
Then he began to take the lead;
I (for no parley can succeed
Against the victor) creep behind.
" Maecenas, how is he inclin'd?"
Cries he, continuing his prate —
" Few men with him are intimate;
A man of excellent good sense,
No one has greater eminence,
By fairly pushing of success. —
— Here is your man, whose clean address
Cou'd much assist you, hand and heart,
And finely play an underpart;
Of all the rest you'd soon dispose." —
— " We are not on such terms as those;
Nor is there any house in Rome
More free from that, which you presume.
My circumstance is not concern'd,
Tho' one's more rich, and one's more learn'd,
All have their special ranks and cares." —
— " You tell me marvellous affairs,
Scarce credible!" — " 'Tis even so." —
— " Now you inflame me more to know,
And to be near him;" — " To desire
A thing from him is to acquire;
Such is your merit, 'twill be done,
And he is easy to be won;
Wherefore he's apt to keep on guard,
And make his first approaches hard." —
— " I'll not be wanting to my plan,
But bribe his servants, man by man.
And if I am repuls'd to-day —
I'll not desist — I'll mark his way,
I will for all occasions wait,
I'll see his honour home in state.
The lot of human life is such,
Nought's done but by endeavouring much." —
Thus while he rattled without end,
Aristius Fuscus, my dear friend,
One who full well this fellow knew,
Came up and met us — how do you do,
And whither bound, each ask'd and told —
I twitch his sleeve, and strive to hold
His arms reluctant — from this scrape,
Nodding and winking to escape.
He laugh'd, and scrupled by the dint
Of ill-tim'd jest to take the hint —
I, with my vitals all inflam'd,
Cry " sure you lately something nam'd,
That you in secret had for me" —
" O! I remember it (says he)
But I a fitter time shall choose,
'Tis a great sabbath with the Jews,
When surely you wou'd not offend" —
" I'm not so scrupulous, dear friend."
" But pardon him of weaker turn,
One of the many — we'll adjourn —
Another day — and I'll advise" —
(O that so black a sun shou'd rise!)
Away the traitor runs for life,
And leaves my throat beneath the knife —
By happiest chance the plaintiff came,
And " where away, thou son of shame?"
He roar'd aloud — then me addrest —
" Sir, will you witness this arrest." —
I yield — he's hurried to the hall —
Both parties make a grievous bawl —
The concourse on all sides is great —
Thus Phoebus stav'd his poet's fate.