This was written with that hand which in others is commonly called
the left hand.
Oft have I been by poets told,
That, poor Jonathan, thou grow'st old.
Alas, thy numbers failing all,
Poor Jonathan, how they do fall!
Thy rhymes, which whilom made thy pride swell,
Now jingle like a rusty bridle:
Thy verse, which ran both smooth and sweet,
Now limp upon their gouty feet:
Thy thoughts, which were the true sublime,
Are humbled by the tyrant, Time:
Alas! what cannot Time subdue?
Time has reduced my wine and you;
Emptied my casks, and clipp'd your wings,
Disabled both in our main springs;
So that of late we two are grown
The jest and scorn of all the town.
But yet, if my advice be ta'en,
We two may be as great again;
I'll send you wings, you send me wine;
Then you will fly, and I shall shine.
This was written with my right hand, at the same time with the other.
How does Melpy like this? I think I have vex'd her;
Little did she know, I was ambidexter.
T. SHERIDAN.
TO MR. THOMAS SHERIDAN
REVEREND AND LEARNED SIR,
I am teacher of English, for want of a better, to a poor charity-school,
in the lower end of St. Thomas's Street; but in my time I have been a
Virgilian, though I am now forced to teach English, which I understood
less than my own native language, or even than Latin itself: therefore I
made bold to send you the enclosed, the fruit of my Muse, in hopes it may
qualify me for the honour of being one of your most inferior Ushers: if
you will vouchsafe to send me an answer, direct to me next door but one
to the Harrow, on the left hand in Crocker's Lane.
I am yours,
Reverend Sir, to command,
PAT. REYLY.
Scribimus indocti doctique poemata passim.
HOR., Epist. II, i, 117
AD AMICUM ERUDITUM THOMAM SHERIDAN
Delicif, Sheridan, Musarum, dulcis amice,
Sic tibi propitius Permessi ad flumen Apollo
Occurrat, seu te mimum convivia rident,
Aequivocosque sales spargis, seu ludere versu
Malles; dic, Sheridan, quisnam fuit ille deorum,
Quae melior natura orto tibi tradidit artem
Rimandi genium puerorum, atque ima cerebri
Scrutandi? Tibi nascenti ad cunabula Pallas
Astitit; et dixit, mentis praesaga futurae,
Heu, puer infelix! nostro sub sidere natus;
Nam tu pectus eris sine corpore, corporis umbra;
Sed levitate umbram superabis, voce cicadam:
Musca femur, palmas tibi mus dedit, ardea crura.
Corpore sed tenui tibi quod natura negavit,
Hoc animi dotes supplebunt; teque docente,
Nec longum tempus, surget tibi docta juventus,
Artibus egregiis animas instructa novellas.
Grex hinc Paeonius venit, ecce, salutifer orbi;
Ast, illi causas orant: his insula visa est
Divinam capiti nodo constringere mitram.
Natalis te horae non fallunt signa, sed usque
Conscius, expedias puero seu laetus Apollo
Nascenti arrisit; sive ilium frigidus horror
Saturni premit, aut septem inflavere triones.
Quin tu alth penitusque latentia semina cernis
Quaeque diu obtundendo olim sub luminis auras
Erumpent, promis; quo ritu saeph puella
Sub cinere hesterno sopitos suscitat ignes.
Te dominum agnoscit quocunque sub akre natus:
Quos indulgentis nimium custodia matris
Pessundat: nam saeph vides in stipite matrem.
Aureus at ramus, venerandae dona Sibyllae,
Aeneae sedes tantym patefecit Avernas;
Saeph puer, tua quem tetigit semel aurea virga,
Et coelum, terrasque videt, noctemque profundam.
Ad te, doctissime Delany,
Pulsus ` foribus Decani,
Confugiens edo querelam,
Pauper petens clientelam.
Petebam Swift doctum patronum,
Sed ille dedit nullum donum,
Neque cibum neque bonum.
Quaeris qu`m malh sit stomacho num?
Iratus valdh valdh latrat,
Crumenicidam fermh patrat:
Quin ergo releves aegrotum,
Dato cibum, dato potum.
Ita in utrumvis oculum,
Dormiam bibens vestrum poculum.
Quaeso, Reverende Vir, digneris hanc epistolam inclusam cum versiculis
perlegere, quam cum fastidio abjecit et respuebat Decanus ille (inquam)
lepidissimus et Musarum et Apollinis comes.