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ON ANOTHER WINDOW[1].
A BARD, on whom Phœbus his spirit bestow'd,
Resolving t'acknowledge the bounty he ow'd,
Found out a new method at once of confessing,
And making the most of so mighty a blessing:
To the God he'd be grateful; but mortals he'd chouse,
By making his patron preside in his house;
And wisely foresaw this advantage from thence,
That the God would in honour bear most of th' expense:
So the bard he finds drink, and leaves Phœbus to treat
With the thoughts he inspires, regardless of meat.
Hence they, that come hither expecting to dine,
Are always fobb'd off with sheer wit and sheer wine.
RIGHT trusty, and so forth — we let you to know
We are very ill us'd by you mortals below.
For, first, I have often by chemists been told,
Though I know nothing on't, it is I that make gold;
Which when you have got, you so carefully hide it,
That, since I was born, I hardly have spy'd it.
- ↑ These lines were written by Dr. Delany, in conjunction with Stella, and preceded those which here follow them.
- ↑ See a poem occasioned by this, called "News from Parnassus," probably by Dr. Delany, in vol. XVIII of this collection.
