Imitation of Horace, Lib. 1, Ep. 11

QUID TIBI VISA C HIOS, ETC .

D EAR B ARTLE ,

How does Turkey suit your taste,
Compared with it is Lisbon quite effaced,
Seville, and all the scenes we viewed together,
What sort of climate have you found, and weather?
The fish, the figs, the grapes, and Grecian wine,
In real earnest, are they quite as fine
As modern travellers have represented?
Inform us — are you joyous and contented,
Or are you sick of Dragomans and Turks,
Muftis, Bashaws, and all their wicked works?
And pine to visit our domestic scene,
Roydon, Finningham, and Mellis' Green,
To pass a rainy winter afternoon
With Mr. Mrs. and the Misses Moon,
Till, like an affable convivial priest,
Returning late from his parochial feast,
Temple diverts us from backgammon playing,
With phrases of old Daniel Garrard's saying.
Next morning we must saunter out once more
To view the scenes so often viewed before.
The solemn feature and commanding stare
Of antient justices and ladies fair,
Which Rednall still preserves with loyal care,
Arranged in order round his parlour wall,
Poor emigrants from the deserted hall;
Or prune with grave discussion and suspense
The rising saplings in the new-made fence;
Or wander forth where Syret's wife deplores
The broken pantiles in her pantry floors;
Or eastward pass to that remoter scene
Where tracts of hostile acres intervene,
To look at Kersey's maid, and taste his ale,
And grieve to see the new-made plaister fail.
Then to return, and find at every station
Old topics, that revive the conversation,
Themes of complacency and consolation.
" That stream with proper care might overflow
" The strip of pasture ground that lies below;
" Those trees have of themselves contrived to grow;
" Those ancient chimneys have been well replaced, "
And " Temple's chancel has been tiled with taste. "
Such joys as these attend on my return
To Roydon, from the place of date — Eastbourne.
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