Classic Poem

( TWO COUNTRY SEATS IN NORTH WALES, BELONGING TO W. A. MADOCKS, ESQ .)

Ods rocks and cascades! (God forgive me for swearing),
I vow, sister Tanny, your conduct's past bearing;
You know very well that this curs'd expedition
Would ne'er have been thought of without my permission:
You prest, and you plagued, till I gave you my leave,
Billy's friends, and himself, for two days -to receive:
Now, time after time, new excuses you seek,
And keep the whole party away for a week !
In truth, sister Tan, you'll allow me to state
That you're grown rather proud and conceited of late;
Come, do yourself justice, indeed you must see
'Tis nonsense to vie in attraction with me;
I talk not of friendship and sisterly love,
No sorrows of mine can your sympathy move;
I know that my griefs not a pang can impart
To a nature so cold , and so stony a heart ;
To your reason I plead, for (I hope no offence)
Such frights as yourself should have very good sense.
Believe me, your airs will derision provoke,
To respect you's a duty , to love you's a joke ;
In vain you give out with an insolent swagger,
That you are an heiress, and I am a beggar.
What little I have is from bankruptcy free,
Your wealth, like a merchant's depends on the sea;
My lands, as I've heard from surveyors of taste,
Are improv'd by the storm by which your's are laid waste.
In vain, against me , winds and winter combine,
What ruins your prospects, embellishes mine !
As to persons, you know that the difference is clear,
For to tell you the truth, you're a monster, my dear;
And still you would tempt the lov'd youth from my arms,
With your barebone attractions and skeleton charms !
For me, I'm not vain, but the world has declar'd
That no beauty on earth can with mine be compar'd.
You scarce can look bearable, dizen'd and deck'd;
I please in disorder, and charm in neglect;
Whilst from art you receive the few gifts you possess,
My toilette is nature's enchanting undress;
And when, sister Tan, in your train shall we meet
All the gods and the elves that attend in my suite?
Can such fair vision-shapes on your boy-turf be seen,
As glide in my forests and sport on my green?
Your genius is humpy , decrepid, and hagged,
Your Naiads are muddy , your Oreads are ragged:
Mature are the wood-nymphs who people my lawn,
And high wave their arms to the breeze of the dawn;
Whilst you to a nursery drag us, to see
Some poor baby Dryads as high as my knee!
In the place of Dianas , and Fairies , and Peris ,
You shew us (oh fie!) that old workwoman, Ceres!
Whilst, proud to my rock-fretted realms to belong,
The torrent-king thunders my vallies along;
Your godling aquatic just makes a deposit
Sufficient to water a mill or a closet .
But who is this man with a visage so deathly?
'Tis — I must end, to hear news from Dollgethly;
So I hope you're not vex'd with my candour, dear Tan,
But send back my William as fast as you can;
And prithee give up this extravagant folly,
For Tanny can ne'er be the rival of Dolly!