Classic Poem

 Be ours a great revenge, said they,
Muses , like dogs, will have their day ;
And we'll this truant Love despite,
By making his as black as night .
What! shall another boast the art
To alienate our votary's heart?
Inflame his breast with other fires.
Than those our Sisterhood inspires?
But soon he to his cost shall know
We are not to be dealt with so.
By A GANIPPE'S sacred stream,
Of which delirious poets dream,
And rave and write, so much, you'd think
'Twas at their meals their constant drink;
By bright A POLLO'S golden locks,
With which they'd grace their own dull blocks;
Nay, by old P EGASUS beside,
Whom they all want to mount and ride,
Tho' they would strength and judgment lack
To sit five minutes on his back;
By these we swear we'll never cease
To cross his projects and his peace,
Till he returns to his allegiance,
And vows us once again obedience.
Let us then, posting swift as wind,
The Monarch of our Mountain find!
His D ELPHIC Worship ne'er refuses
To vindicate the slighted Muses :
He'll rate the vagrant like a fury,
And be at once both judge and jury.

 Ah, stop! fair Virgins of the lyre!—
Can fancied slights such bosoms fire!
Say, can your minds celestial prove
Those paltry piques which Mortals move?
Or of those springs conceive a notion,
That set their dirty tricks in motion?—
Daughters of J OVE ! can Y OU disgrace,
By squabbling thus, your royal Race?
Wise as you are, you want a tutor;
Never run down a single suitor,
Nor treat your servants cavalierly,
Who earn, you know, their bread so dearly.
Your wages low, your liveries bare,
Your house-keeping as thin as air;
Fame's their sole vails, their only gain,
And this they often sue in vain;
Nay more, I'll tell you, by the bye,
You'd be mere nothings in the sky,
If the poor scribblers of the earth
Did not support your place and birth.
Tho' my assertion's bold, tis true,
You live by them , not they by you .