Classic Poem

Nature and Art, the other day,
Both most vehemently offended,
Just met each other on their way,
And thus with mutual warmth contended:

" Away! " cried Nature, in a passion,
" Thou that hast thought to be my equal!
" Thy short-liv'd pride, thou child of Fashion.
" Is all but folly in the sequel.

" With all thy boasting — all thy glory —
" And pompous metaphors, so fine,
" What is thy long, elab'rate story,
" To one pathetic glance of mine?

" Even in my wildest dishabille,
" Without the ornaments of speech,
" There's oft a nameless beauty still,
" Which all thy magic cannot reach! "

With calm, contemptuous, careless glances,
(Which shew'd that Nature spoke in vain,)
Art heard her out — and now advances,
With cold ineffable disdain: —

" To all this fury, mighty Madam,
" Clear truth's I might oppose in plenty,
" From Reason sure you must have had 'em,
" And one may do, as well as twenty!

" Canst thou so soon then have forgot,
" When E DGAR ev'ry breast inspir'd?
" When ev'ry fancy shar'd his lot,
" When ev'ry heart his virtues fir'd?

" Honour, which kept its steady course,
" And 'spite of Love preserv'd its claim;
" And valiant Truth, which spoke the source,
" The royal source from whence it came!

" When D IMOND play'd the generous part,
" And brought the Hero to our view,
" Was there one cold unfeeling heart,
" That shar'd not then his ardour too?

" Cou'd Reason then, that calm detector,
" Have said 'twas all a vain delusion —
" Even thou indignantly hadst check'd her,
" And frown'd upon her bold intrusion!

" Then join, my triumph to reveal,
" Since for the anguish that I borrow,
" Unbidden sighs shall softly steal,
" And tears shall flow of genuine sorrow. "

The Dame a moment stood confus'd,
Then only made them both the greater,
Whilst her own Poet's words she us'd,
And said, this " Art itself was Nature. "