Unknown

“ Tho’ they ponder’d, and ponder’d, at every line:
And all only serving to puzzle them more,
Sir Argus continued as wise as before.
Distracted, he knew not well whither to go,
This last disappointment afflicted him so;
But at length, on reflection, thought only one fowl
Cou’d have sense to inform him, and that was the Owl.
To her he resolv’d, then, a visit to make,
And her Supper, the following night, to partake.
In the meanwhile, the Parrot with quickness rehearses,
Again, and again, the most charming of verses.
Smart things fly about ”

“ Her soft bosom swell’d, and she thought it was grievous,
That malice should lead the world thus to deceive us:
For she too had heard a long, odious relation
Of cruel oppression, and vile peculation;
And own’d, (tho’ it might be as false as the rest,)
It was whisper’d, the Goldfinch had feather’d her nest.
How ev’ry one star’d! “what detestable stories!”
The Parrot aloud cried, “O! tempora, O! mores!”
But Phœbus advancing, now brought on the day,
And the Peacock declar’d he must hasten away.
His Companion directly Sir Argus obey’d,
And both to the Countess some compliments paid ”

“ Keen hunger made up for the want of good cheer.
The supper dispatch’d, our illustrious Guest,
Till his Story was told, not a moment cou’d rest;
[p21] While the Owl her brain rummag’d, (now quite on th’ alert,)
For a few scraps of learning, by way of dessert:
But the Peacock had no inclination to wait,
And the Parrot was still more impatient to prate:
So the Poem was read, and the Owl vow’d she never
Had heard any Verses she thought half so clever.
But, “who is the Author?” this still was the theme
Of Sir Argus’s Song, and his night and day dream. ”

“ And, in haste, for the Parrot he instantly sent:
[p9] Who shortly arriv’d, overjoy’d beyond measure,
And, strutting, demanded Sir Argus’s pleasure?
The Peacock, with vanity fully inflated,
Erected his plumes, and the triumph related;
Then quiv’ring his wings, and expanding his breast,
The listening Parrot in these words address’d:—
“My friend, I acknowledge the Poem divine,
And that genius and wit breathe thro’ every line;
But it is not enough that to Fame we devote it,
You, the Herald of Ton, must inform me who wrote it.” ”

“ But, alas! Time has wings; and tho’ still vastly clever,
We cannot make Balls last for ever and ever,
[p7] When day was seen breaking, the company parted;
And none, I am told, ever went lighter hearted.
“I knew,” cried Sir Argus, “my Gala would shine:
Oh! charming distinction, Oh! pleasure divine.
Yes! I too shall see myself figure away
In the records of fashion, the buz of the day;
And the world shall admire, in ages to come,
The brilliant display of the Peacock at Home.”
Two months had now pass’d, and Sir Argus, one morning,
Was ruffling his plumes, and his person adorning,
When lo! ”

“ So the Parrot, with spirit, the Poem recited,
And all were, or seem’d to be, highly delighted.
But as for the Writer—alas! they as soon
Cou’d have told them the name of the Man in the Moon:
And the Turkey-Cock’s Spouse her Guests calmly entreated,
To quit the pursuit, and be quietly seated.
But all wou’d not do; so, by way of excuse,
They pleaded a visit to good Mother Goose ”

“ But what cou’d be learnt from two countrified Doves,
Who were thinking, from morning to night, of their loves?
[p24] No! they begg’d to observe nothing rude was intended,
But Concerts and Balls, Doves had never attended:
In rural enjoyments they pass’d time away,
And car’d for no Poems, nor Poets—not they! ”