LETHE. A BALLAD. པ་ THE FIRST STANZA BY GARRICK. YE mortals, whom fancies and troubles perplex, "Whom folly misguides, and infirmities vex; "Whose lives hardly know what it is to be blest, "Who rise without joy, and lie down without rest: "Obey the glad summons, to Lethe repair, "Drink deep of the stream, and forget all your care.” The lawyer, whom Lethe prepares for a plea, The doctor by kindness, not Latin, shall win ye, And shall ask for your health ere he look for your guinea. Obey then the summons, &c. The bard shall find mutton more savoury than grass is, And to sup in a tavern than starve on Parnassus; While his lofty heroicks, and loftier garret, He forgets in brisk trade, and snug rooms, and cool claret. Obey then, &c. No more shall the student suck old Alma Mater, The soldier, for once if a soldier will deign But ye who would scruple to journey so far on, * Illa quidem Stygia nabat jam frigida cymbà. THE DESCENT OF TIMOTHY.* TIM crawl'd on board; no phiz e'er sadder ; Him spied the dog of Newfoundland, Down dancing drives against his leg. *This parody of Gray's Descent of Odin alludes to some things that occurred in the course of a voyage to London. Pensive on a cask of gin He sat, and stroked his aching shin; While near him snored in drunken state Tim put to flight the seaman's dream, And forth these sullen grumblings thunder. MATE. What rascal with his thumps and screaming Dares break the quiet of my dreaming? Whose hand is this that pulls my head, Labouring to lug me out of bed? These ears have heard for weeks together The long long roar of wintry weather, Zounds, I believe he'll twist my neck On deck, there, ho! ye dogs on deck, Have ye let all the fiends of hell in? TIM. A traveller I, to thee unknown, An honest man's and woman's son; By hunger, thirst, and sickness undone, MATE. The bed's our captain's bed, d'ye see- The mug, you mean that has the grog in? He, good soul, must have his potion: Leave me, leave me, to repose. Master mate, awake and say, Pray have ye one for me, or no? MATE. There on the floor mattress and bolster are; Who wish for more may ask th' upholsterer. Now my weary lips I close; Leave me, leave me, to repose. TIM. Master mate, my call obey, Rouse yourself once more and say, If in this ship a poor starved sinner May sup; to-day I had no dinner. |