Selected quad for the lemma: book_n
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A27326
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To poet Bavius occasion'd by his satyr he writ in his verses to the King upon the Queen's being deliver'd of a son.
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Behn, Aphra, 1640-1689.
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1688
(1688)
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Wing B1767; ESTC R24197
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3,022
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12
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TO 〈◊〉 Poet BAVIUS OCCASION'D BY HIS SATYR He Writ in his VERSES TO THE KING UPON THE QUEENS being Deliver'd OF A SON Permissu Superiorum LONDON Printed for the Author M DC LXXX VIII UPON THE POET BAVIUS A Labouring Muse that full Nine Months had been In Painful thro's Pregnant at last became Nine Months a Loyal Zeal had Fir'd my Breast Which for Nine Muses cou'd not be at rest Tell me vain hard'ned Scribler what Pretence Have those two Lines to Kindred or to Sense The Luckey gingle of the Nine and Nine Produc'd 'em without Thinking or Design The first thy Loyalties short date Rehearses The next how Damnably thou Pump'st for Verses But Duty did my desperate Ray Controule 'T is False thy Muse was Tame as is thy Soul Thou hast no Rage no Fire no Spirit or Power But Feeble Rancor for the Happy Hour Some could not Bridle their Officious Rhime But must bestow an Heir before the Time. While thou dull Faithless Scribling Infidel Cou'd not Believe till thou cou'dst See and Feel We like the Joyful Patriarchs of Old Believ'd the good to Come when but Fore told But thou as scanted in thy Faith as Sense Wanted the Courage to Trust Providence It was enough we saw a Pregnant Queen To Inspire our Muse tho' we no more had seen Where each well-wisher Honestly intends Good will for Paltry Lines must make amends And why so sharp Squire Bavius on your Friends Thou who hast been this Fifteen Years at least Thro' all the Town the most Notorious Jest E're to Increase thy Foppery thou hadst Writ The Scorne o' th' Boxes Laughter of the Pit. Famous in Julians Song till Vile Lampoon Discarded thee for a too dull Buffoon But once a Poet our Diversion fail'd Thou fellest below even being Redicul'd And had not thy Unlucky Rhiming Spirit Writ Satyr now instead of Panygerick Vile Pointless Satyr thou might'st still have been A poor forgotten Drone without a Sting And without notice follow'd still the King. His Couchees and his Levies wait and get As much as by thy ever failing Wit. VVhile with Abortive Lines the Land you fill And make the Consort hear your Nonsense still Such Sawcy Puns with an Irreverend She And World of Do's makes up thy Poetry Below thy Native Dulness sinks thy Rhimes And are a Woful Libel on the Times Maces and Furrs their Princes Favour gone Neglected look like Roses after June Or like Fop Bavius Verse quite out of Tune Why does the Trading City look so Blew Unless by Trusting Sharping Bavius like you And why a Body that no Soul can Boast Or why have they their Princes Favour lost The King no Thanks will give your Misplac'd Zeal To judge his Sentiments t'th ' Commonweal If Roses after June are Roses still Retain their Colour Beauty and their Smell The Novelty begets 'em more Esteem Than if they Bloom'd the common Month of June So while the City keeps her Loyalty She 's still in Favour and deserves to be Inspight of all thy ill-tim'd Poetry And who but Rhiming Bavius could suppose Maces and Furrs so very like a Rose Or think because the Judges Chaines is gone The gaudy Triffle lost the Man 's undone Dull Fool that ne're to Merit gave its due But thinks all Vertue to consist of Show As if the Man once Worth his Prince's Grace Must with his short-liv'd Frown become an Ass. A Prince's Favour then by the same Rule Shou'd make him Lov'd or VVise that is a Fool. But now the bitter Robe the Reverend Gown Doom'd by his Nations Scandal must go down First tell us that thou art a Renigade E're to thy Mother thou turn Retrograde If of the Primitive Roman Church thou be Heaven guard her from so great an Infamie Stick to that Point and then we Pardon Thee But thou who still the Establish'd Faith Profest Like an Ungrateful Bird Bewrayst thy Nest Or like the Amphibious Batt that shuns the Light VVith Beast canst walk and with the Fowles take flight The next high Jest is the Discarded stusf Now Bavius hand is in he claws it off And like Almanzor when Inrag'd he grows Promiscuously he falls on Friends and Foes Tho' with Substantial Limbs and brisk in Walking Without your Staff you are but Lame and Halting Oh Luckey hit what strange Prodigious skill Thou hast in Clinching Quibling Doggeril The Colonels next but by unhappy Chance No Puns the value of these Lines Advance But Dids and Does and a quant Simely VVhich must the Place of smarter Clinch supply He tells you here That loss of a Commission Is very much like a Death-Bed Contrition Nay what is worse so wretched is their Fate No Galloon-Coats their Levires now must wait In Bavius Sense VVit Honour Vertue lyes In the Lac'd-Coat and Gay-Embroaderies Nor is the Garter from his Rage exempt Turn'd off he adds the weight of his Contempt Unhappy Peers when once you 're in Disgrace Your Ribban's Dirty and your Stars are Brass VVorse than Beau Bavius Belt all set with Glass The Suck-Blood Vermin of the Robe alone Can Smile to see Men every day undone If by Permissu Superiorum this Dull Sawcy Libel thro' the Town must pass VVhere Reverend Bishops Ravenous Wolves are deem'd And all the Judges Bloody Knaves esteem'd White Staves Blew Garters all within his reach His Evidence Muse must of some Crime Impeach Then farewell all good Manners Sense and VVit If Superiorums will such Stuff admit But this was slyly meant like all the rest Upon the Reverend Fathers for a Jest. No Order Honour or High Place can be From his Immortal Nonsense Satyr free Hadst thou not better in a few dull Lines Plain Honest Meeter tag'd with gingling Rhimes In thy Coronation Stile and usual Sense Hamer'd some Hearty welcome to the Prince Kept to thy Theam and his just Praises Sung And not have took this time for publick wrong Lybel this great Occasion cou'd not bear All Love and Softness was the Business here Malice shou'd here be banish'd from thy Quill Then we 'd excus'd thy barely writing ill And for bad Lines have taken thy good Will. VVe are content thou shouldst in Scoundrel Verse Put into French the Famous Hudebras Or Nobler Boilean into English turn And move at once our Laughter and our Scorn Thy dull Advice too we with Patience Read VVhich tells us how Young Monarchs shou'd be Bred 'T is pitty but thou wert a Tutor made And who that see the Politiques that shine Thro' all the Nonsense of each strugling Line Thy exact Grammar and Coherence views VVith the good Nature of thy Railing Muse Thy VVit thy Parts thy Conduct Mien and Grace Thy Presence Cringes and thy Court Grimarce But Swears Heaven meant thee for a perfect As FINIS First in Labour and then Pregnant So long Loyal But for Duty he 〈◊〉 been inrag'd at the Birth of the Princâ— No more cou'd Bavius who proffer'd his Poem to Bently two Months before the Prince was born but had not the Courage to venture it till he saw indeed 't was a Son Then with Abortive Joy the Nation fill And make the Consort bear the burden still Bavius Poem On the City Query he says the City looks Bleak He calls it a Body without a Soul and tells 'em they have lost the K's Favour Upon his simily of the Rose confuted His Jerk for the turn'd on Judges Witty on the Bishop He pretendâ— to be of thâ— Church of England A â—ob for the Controlers thâ— are â—ut The 〈…〉 Collonels 〈…〉 Here he Civil 〈…〉 o of the R 〈…〉 in Gener. His Book s 〈…〉 Licensed See Bavius