Classic Poem

Laura , for once excuse, I pray,
The pertness of a rural lay;
And I will ne'er again oftend,
Or need the name of saucy friend;

Stella, (for now I see it clearly,
Who loves a little mischief dearly)
Resolv'd to carry a gay farce on,
Told me I was the country parson,
Described in your melodius strain;
To which I now return again.

I, like my namesake, without guile,
Thought in my turn that I might smile,
So seis'd my pen, in a brisk sally,
Determin'd to pay off the tally;
And, in a fit of warm regard ,
Dropt a few words — quite off my guard ;
For which I Laura's mercy crave,
And shall remain her humble slave — —
She's pleas'd to say, that " I inherit,
" Some portion of the Dean 's queer spirit . "
If aught in me was ever seen,
Resembling Patrick's boasted Dean;
It was his faults, I fear — rank pride,
Which, for my life, I cannot hide,
And one less vain than Swift — or me,
Might e'en both proud and saucy be,
When such fine things of him are said
By Laura, the harmonious maid;
Yet still her compliments, I fear,
Are only sent her friend to jeer ,
Or sugar o'er a little smart
And close the bleedings of a heart —
Thus, without cause, when children cry,
And put their finger in their eye,
Kind mamma gives them aught that's handy,
Cakes, marmalade, or sugar-candy.

Fair Laura hints — the hint I take,
And honour for its mistress' sake —
Yet when great Cupid is inclin'd,
To fix his empire o'er my mind,
A silken cord, no " dragging chain, "
Shall lead me to his sacred fane;
For none, I trust, shall e'er discover,
In me aught like the whimp'ring lover;
The fault'ring voice, the sigh of care,
The languid look, the dying air.
When abject thus behaves the muse,
May I kind Laura's friendship lose,
That friendship which I dearer hold,
Than silver heaps or shining gold.

And now, farewell! — may ev'ry hour
Fresh happiness on Laura pour —
Whether in sacred wedlock join'd,
Or to the Vestal state inclin'd;
May constant joys before her rise,
Till, for low earth, she gains the skies!