-
Articles/Ads
Article PETER PINDAR TO DR. SAYERS, ← Page 2 of 2
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Peter Pindar To Dr. Sayers,
I ' m better pleas'd with Odin's daily dinners , His wild-boar hams , and frothing mead . Doctor , I'll be a votary of thy sect , I like Valhalla where th' elect Come of a jolly toping breed . By Heav ' n , the blue-ey'd wenches there , sweet sinners . Are very pretty articles of creed , And could Iduna ' s youth-bestowing les
app Appear at the dessert of earthl y tables , They'd make of any land a paradisej indeed . Henceforth thy Gods be mine ! . Whene ' er I wander thro' the Strand , May Frea take me by the hand , And lend the golden tear divine , Which wins her wandering train of misses
, To lisp so lovingly their venal kisses . And when at home in lonely luxury I lounge in elbow chair , Heimdal , as butler , shall be by , And in my ale reflect his amber hair . If dullness then my drowsy forehead shrouds , Surtur shall light my pipe , Thar curl its smoky clouds ,
Or when the brighter hour is nigh , That on the twinkling feet of rhime Comes dancing to my phrenzied eye , To goad my pen , and prompt the cunning chime—If merry be the thoughts I think , Kevaser ' s blood shall be my ink ; But if such loftier themes intrude As hover o ' er thy solitude
, I'll call thy Braga from his golden grove , Where Mimer's sparkling waters rove . Such as beside thy couch he stood , With swimming eye and soul of fire , And to his gold-hair'd lyre Pour'd on thy thrilling soul the full poetic flood .
. Soon shall the imitative crew , Like sheep by some bell-wether led , The path thy genius taught pursue , And pace again thy every fiery tread : Till in due time e ' en birth-day odes Shall strut resplendent with thy Gods . Thy Niord and his mermaid train Bid old Britannia rule the main ;
Thy Hermod on our George dispense The gift of rapid eloquence ; Thy Frea flutter from above To crown our Queen the Queen of Love ; While Hertha to her womb shall tie The chain of long fertility . Then if the Laureate , strangely bright , O ' erclimb his usual mole-hill height ,
And with a simile of storms Some bolder rugged line deforms—With howl of blasts he shall arouse thy Thor O ' er the dark clouds to steer the thunder's fiery ear .
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Peter Pindar To Dr. Sayers,
I ' m better pleas'd with Odin's daily dinners , His wild-boar hams , and frothing mead . Doctor , I'll be a votary of thy sect , I like Valhalla where th' elect Come of a jolly toping breed . By Heav ' n , the blue-ey'd wenches there , sweet sinners . Are very pretty articles of creed , And could Iduna ' s youth-bestowing les
app Appear at the dessert of earthl y tables , They'd make of any land a paradisej indeed . Henceforth thy Gods be mine ! . Whene ' er I wander thro' the Strand , May Frea take me by the hand , And lend the golden tear divine , Which wins her wandering train of misses
, To lisp so lovingly their venal kisses . And when at home in lonely luxury I lounge in elbow chair , Heimdal , as butler , shall be by , And in my ale reflect his amber hair . If dullness then my drowsy forehead shrouds , Surtur shall light my pipe , Thar curl its smoky clouds ,
Or when the brighter hour is nigh , That on the twinkling feet of rhime Comes dancing to my phrenzied eye , To goad my pen , and prompt the cunning chime—If merry be the thoughts I think , Kevaser ' s blood shall be my ink ; But if such loftier themes intrude As hover o ' er thy solitude
, I'll call thy Braga from his golden grove , Where Mimer's sparkling waters rove . Such as beside thy couch he stood , With swimming eye and soul of fire , And to his gold-hair'd lyre Pour'd on thy thrilling soul the full poetic flood .
. Soon shall the imitative crew , Like sheep by some bell-wether led , The path thy genius taught pursue , And pace again thy every fiery tread : Till in due time e ' en birth-day odes Shall strut resplendent with thy Gods . Thy Niord and his mermaid train Bid old Britannia rule the main ;
Thy Hermod on our George dispense The gift of rapid eloquence ; Thy Frea flutter from above To crown our Queen the Queen of Love ; While Hertha to her womb shall tie The chain of long fertility . Then if the Laureate , strangely bright , O ' erclimb his usual mole-hill height ,
And with a simile of storms Some bolder rugged line deforms—With howl of blasts he shall arouse thy Thor O ' er the dark clouds to steer the thunder's fiery ear .