The stout Gothic yeditur, next on the roll,
With his beard like a brush, and as black as a coal;
And honest Greysteel that was true to the core,
Lent their hearts and their hands each to one volume more.
One volume more, &c.
Since by these single champions what wonders were done,
What may not be achieved by our Thirty and One?
Law, Gospel, and Commerce we count in our corps,
And the Trade and the Press join for one volume more.
One volume more, &c.
Ancient libels and contraband books, I assure ye,
We'll print as secure from Exchequer or Jury;
Then hear your Committee and let them count o'er
The Chiels they intend in their three volumes more.
Three volumes more, &c.
They'll produce your King Jamie, the Sapient and Sext,
And the Bob of Dumblane and her Bishops come next;
One tome miscellaneous they'll add to your store,
Resolving next year to print four volumes more.
Four volumes more, my friends, four volumes more;
Pay down your subscriptions for four volumes more.
Sir W. Scott.
THE BOOKSELLERS' BANQUET
Grave vendors of volumes, best friends of the Nine,
Give ear to my song as to charm you I try;
Other bards may in vain look for audience like mine,
For the muses they chant, for the booksellers I.
Their notes I have drawn, so 'tis nothing but fair
That my notes should be drawn, if they please, at a beck;
Undaunted I warble—I truly declare
My song is most valued when met by a cheque.
The work we've just finished went off very well;
It was set out with plates, such as Finden, or Heath,
If even their professional feelings rebel,
Must praise on account (not in spite) of their teeth.
Though by Fraser cut up, and by Murray reviewed,
Lovegrove's articles all fit insertion have found.
We have cleared off our boards, but as business is good,
We keep wetted for use, and for pleasure unbound.
But here not for pleasure alone are we stored
Like holiday tomes in our gilding so bright;
Some care 'tis our duty and wish to afford
In the moment of need to a less lucky wight,
Whose title is lost, and whose covers are torn,
When the moth has gnawed through, dust or cobwebs surround,
And to lift on the shelf our poor brother forlorn,
As a much damaged old folio treasured by Lowndes.
Though his back stock of life may perchance weigh him down,
By our aid may the old heavy pressure be moved,
And new-titled we start him again on the town,
As a second edition revised and improved.
And for dealings like this a commission will find,
And that of a date that the primest is given,
The commission is—Strive to do good to mankind,
And the place of its dates is no other than Heaven.