Accommodation: a poetical epistle to John Ashby, Esq; by Rowley Thomas.

Table of contents

- [halftitle]

- [titlepage]

ACCOMMODATION, &c.

CONDESCENSION in the muse

Severest critics will excuse;

Condescension in the man

Is the skilful, winning, plan:

By condescension, here, I mean

Accommodation in the scene

Of life.—Will A---y condescend

To view the trifler in the friend;

That friend who ever has, and will

Protect his character from ill;

Give up life,—all fancy's power,

To cheer his every anxious hour?

Then surely A---y can't refuse

The whimseys of a flighty muse.

A bland, goodnatur'd, muse that must

Protect the good,—the great,—the just;

Protect the wise,—protect the brave,—

All,—All,—but coward, fool, and knave:

And cowards, fools, and knaves shall be

The objects of her charity.

Then A---y surely will excuse

An idle, truant, laughing muse;

A muse that ever will incline

To favour A---y with a line;—

—His gentleness can ne'er refuse

The fondly,—overweening muse;

That oft in person will attend him,

And counsel quaint will freely lend him:

Then A---y never can refuse

The gambols of this frolic muse.

How!—says, Sir critic;—not to brand

With infamy the murdering hand;

And every character that can

Sink to the brute from reasoning man!

—Avaunt rash criticism!—Learn ye!

He serv'd his time to vile attorney;

And vile attorneys ne'er can be

Fit subjects for a lash from thee:

—We then should too much condescend.—

What!—Give our satire for no end!

No!—Let him canter o'er the hill

Of wild Parnassus with his quill;

And stumble on without a note

From us, who think and write by rote.

The conscious muse, in native charms,

Laughs,—'till she bursts,—at such alarms;

Dares every critic to defiance,

—She never wishes such alliance;

Dares every critic with a frown,—

To laud her,—up; to blast her,—down.

With indignation now she burns,

And gladly to that friend returns;—

Who gave her, with a gentle hand,

And feeling heart, each sweet command:—

What to embrace,—and what to fly

During her term of slavery.

Kind,—gentle spirit!—yet e'en he

Can scarce escape severity;

Whose noble mind,—and swelling heart,

Their virtues cheerfully impart

TO MAN AT LARGE:—without a dream

Of self's attractive,—darling theme;

That luscious,—dear,—engaging thing,

Which sways alike the clown,—the king;—

At every place,—at every hour,—

Gives strange exemplars of it's power.

The cheerful reader too 'll excuse

The queer digressions of the muse;

And give her credit for awhile

For every laugh,—for every smile;—

Which she engages to exert,—

Neither too timorous,—nor pert;

As opportunity permits,—

And she can strike some lucky hits.

Her first essay;—and all her own.

—Sir critic, fy!—suppress that frown!—

—Solicits favor, from—

—A FRIEND:—

And, if she meet with his applause,

Will lengthen out her little cause:—

—By daring, in some future plan,

[*] To analyze that creature man;

Whether in poetry, or prose,

Is insignificant to those,

Who think,—who act,—from nature's school,

And never idly play the fool:—

—As whilom THOMAS often did,

Without his ever being chid;—

Except by such,—as never knew,

Skilful to give the finespun clew

To mild conversion's calm retreat;—

—Where all the muses,—graces meet;—

And every ghost,—and every shade,

Of GODLIKE MAN,—that GOD has made:

Midst scenes of wildest dissipation lost;—

His sensibility too often crost;—

Thro' the kindliest warmth of blood,

Deserting every social good:

This, and that, perverse vexation

Springing all from circulation

Of boiling blood,—thro' every vein

Quick-trembling to it's source again,—

The heart;—whence every rapture flows

For every good, which it bestows

On kindred man:—without a thought

Of being ask'd for,—being sought.

Spite of all the rage of fashion,—

Spite of every wayward passion,—

Spite of nature's opposition;—

He means to make a strange transition

From bad to good;—offhand reclaim

Each immoral, youthful aim;

And stranger still!—for quirking seats

Barter the muse's green retreats.

Hold!—cries, dame prudence;—hold your hand

And listen to this sage command.—

Beware, young man!—with caution rove

O'er legal bank,—thro' quibbling grove;—

Let law, and reason,—PRUDENCE join;—

Then, then! you strike a good design.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Curse on your tame,—your frigid notions

And all such quack,—cathartic potions.

The GOD OF NATURE gave us passions,—

To grace us with on all occasions;

And gave us reason to control

The frantic sallies of the soul.

Past follies!—Nature ought to bear,

And think him highly worth her care.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

With all his faults,—and all his folly,

He's freed at length from MELANCHOLY;

And her attendant,—APATHY.—

—Dull,—cynic apathy!—whose boast,

And blunted praise is always lost,—

By seldom thinking,—never acting;—

And yet it ever seems transacting.

A mere machine,—we use at will,

And keep it going on,—or still,

As fancy leads:—a moping jade;—

A piece of clockwork,—only made

For keenest cuts of comic wit,—

Just when my lady's in the fit

To flourish o'er wild nature's page,

And stamp the wretch of every age.

The cruel critics still abuse

The whimsical,—meandrous muse;—

Without one social feeling dare

To blast my first,—my only care;

And dully criticising say;—

The pillars, when they artless lay,

The superstructure must betray:—

Quickly the castle's undermin'd

And by a trifling gale of wind.

So fare the laurel and the bays

Of such a rhymester's jingling lays;—

—His canting,—puling,—lukewarm,—

The brawling brats of coldest climes,—

The laurel claim and blooming bays,

Without the least pretence to praise:—

—Let gentlest breezes gently come,

They shake his high-aspiring plume,—

Which trembling drops,—without a tear

From us who give him,—every fear.

And now, AERIAL GENIUS!—now

Stoop to my muse,—she'll teach you, how

To sweep the skilful,—winning bow.

Bend genius,—bend!—accept this new,—

This grand,—accommodating clew;

—Nobly defend the muse's claim

A mirthful muse's honest aim.—

—And when dull apathists perceive

That you the mystic muse can believe;—

They'll crawl it on,—in faith with you,

And own themselves high-honoured too.—

—Let but the lower ranks comply,—

You'll have the muse's leave to fly,—

And soar it to your native sky.

First let the towering genius dare

To make high worth his constant care;—

Next let the towering genius bend

To make each honest heart,—his friend.

And never think it worth his part

To court the head without the heart:—

—We grant,—that where they kindly meet,

The union forms an higher treat:—

But a good heart,—the deity will own,—

Far,—far excels,—the merely laurel'd crown.

Notes

*
Analysis of the human character;—begun by the author of this little performance;—showing POPE's Essay on man unintelligible, as a finished,—philosophical, piece; but largely subscribing to the inimitable beauties of it, as a merely poetical one.
↵

ACCOMMODATION, A POETICAL EPISTLE, &c.

ACCOMMODATION, A POETICAL EPISTLE TO JOHN ASHBY, Esq

BY ROWLEY THOMAS.

QUI MORES HOMINUM MULTORUM VIDIT.—
HOR.

SHREWSBURY: Printed by J. EDDOWES, for the AUTHOR. MDCCLXXV.

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Accommodation: a poetical epistle to John Ashby, Esq; by Rowley Thomas.

Thomas, Rowley.

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110602107X

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9781106021076

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K100666.000

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CW3313283199

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— Accommodation: a poetical epistle to John Ashby, Esq; by Rowley Thomas., Thomas, Rowley.. [4],15,[1]p. ; 4⁰. Shrewsbury :: printed by J. Eddowes, for the author,. 1775.. [Rowley Thomas may be a pseudonym.] [With a half-title.] [Reproduction of original from the British Library.] [English Short Title Catalog, ESTCT126164.] [Electronic data. Farmington Hills, Mich. : Thomson Gale, 2003. Page image (PNG). Digitized image of the microfilm version produced in Woodbridge, CT by Research Publications, 1982-2002 (later known as Primary Source Microfilm, an imprint of the Gale Group).]

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