Welcome Guest Login

In elder days in Saturns prime Ere baldness

In elder days in Saturns prime
Ere baldness seized the head of Time
While truant Jove in infant pride
Playd barefoot on Olympus side
Each thing on earth had power to chatter
And spoke the mother tongue of nature.
Each stock or stone could prate and gabble
Worse than ten labourers of Babel.
Along the street perhaps youd see
A Post disputing with a Tree
And mid their arguments of weight
A Goose sit umpire of debate.
Each Dog you met though speechless now
Would make his compliments and bow
And every Swine with congees come
To know how did all friends at home.
Each Block sublime could make a speech
In style and eloquence as rich
And could pronounce it and could pen it
As well as Chatham in the senate.

Nor prose alone. In these young times
Each field was fruitful too in rhymes
Each featherd minstrel felt the passion
And every wind breathed inspiration.
Each Bullfrog croakd in loud bombastic
Each Monkey chatterd Hudibrastic
Each Cur endued with yelping nature
Could outbark Churchills 2 self in satire
Each Crow in prophecy delighted
Each Owl you saw was second sighted
Each Goose a skilful politician
Each Ass a gifted metphysician
Could preach in wrath gainst laughing rogues
Write Halfway covenant Dialogues 3
And wisely judge of all disputes
In commonwealths of men or brutes.

Twas then in spring a youthful Sparrow
Felt the keen force of Cupids arrow
For Birds as Æsops tales avow
Made love then just as men do now
And talkd of deaths and flames and darts
And breaking necks and losing hearts
And chose from all th aerial kind
Not then to tribes like Jews confined
The story tells a lovely Thrush
Had smit him from a neighbring bush
Where oft the young coquette would play
And carol sweet her siren lay
She thrilld each featherd heart with love
And reignd the Toast of all the grove.

He felt the pain but did not dare
Disclose his passion to the fair
For much he feard her conscious pride
Of race to noble blood allied.
Her grandsires nest conspicuous stood
Mid loftiest branches of the wood
In airy height that scornd to know
Each flitting wing that waved below.
So doubting on a point so nice
He deemd it best to take advice.

Hard by there dwelt an aged Owl
Of all his friends the gravest fowl
Who from the cares of business free
Lived hermit in a hollow tree
To solid learning bent his mind
In trope and syllogism he shined
Gainst reigning follies spent his railing
Too much a Stoic twas his failing.

Hither for aid our Sparrow came
And told his errand and his name
With panting breath explaind his case
Much trembling at the sages face
And beggd his Owlship would declare
If love were worth a wise ones care.

The grave Owl heard the weighty cause
And hummd and hahd at every pause
Then fixd his looks in sapient plan
Stretchd forth one foot and thus began.

"My son my son of love beware
And shun the cheat of beautys snare
That snare more dreadful to be in
Than huntsmans net or horse hair gin.
"By others harms learn to be wise "
As ancient proverbs well advise.
Each villany that nature breeds
From females and from love proceeds.
Tis love disturbs with fell debate
Of man and beast the peaceful state
Men fill the world with wars alarms
When female trumpets sound to arms
The commonwealth of dogs delight
For beauties as for bones to fight.
Love hath his tens of thousands slain
And heapd with copious death the plain
Samson with asss jaw to aid
Neer peopled thus thinfernal shade.

"Nor this the worst for he thats dead
With love no more will vex his head.
Tis in the rolls of fate above
That deaths a certain cure for love
A noose can end the cruel smart
The lovers leap is from a cart.
But oft a living death they bear
Scornd by the proud capricious fair.
The fair to sense pay no regard
And beauty is the fops reward
They slight the generous hearts esteem
And sigh for those who fly from them.

Just when your wishes would prevail
Some rival bird with gayer tail
Who sings his strain with sprightlier note
And chatters praise with livelier throat
Shall charm your fluttring fair one down
And leave your choice to hang or drown.

Evn I my son have felt the smart
A Pheasant won my youthful heart.
For her I tuned the doleful lay 4
For her I watchd the night away
In vain I told my piteous case
And smoothd my dignity of face
In vain I culld the studied phrase
And sought hard words in beautys praise.
Her not my charms nor sense could move
For folly is the food of love.
Each female scorns our serious make
"Each woman is at heart a rake." 5
Thus Owls in every age have said
Since our first parent owl was made
Thus Pope and Swift to prove their sense
Shall sing some twenty ages hence
Then shall a man of little fame
One * sing the same..

Submit Your Poetry

by:- admin posted in:- john trumbull

Comments are closed. :(