Love Elegy (in imitation of Tibullus) by Tobias Smollett
Where now are all my flattering dreams of joy? Monimia, give my soul her wonted rest; Since first thy beauty fix’d my roving eye, Heart-gnawing cares corrode my pensive breast. Let happy lovers fly where pleasures call, With festive songs beguile the fleeting hour; Lead beauty through the mazes of the ball, Or press her, […]
“Let the nymph still avoid and be deaf to the swain” by Tobias Smollett
Let the nymph still avoid and be deaf to the swain Who in transports of passion affects to complain, For his rage, not his love, in that frenzy is shown, And the blast that blows loudest is soon overblown. But the shepherd whom Cupid has pierced to the heart Will submissive adore, and rejoice in […]
To Independence by Tobias Smollett
Strophe. Thy spirit, Independence, let me share, Lord of the lion-heart and eagle-eye, Thy steps I follow with my bosom bare, Nor heed the storm that howls along the sky. Deep in the frozen regions of the north, A goddess violated brought thee forth, Immortal Liberty! whose look sublime Hath bleach’d the tyrant’s cheek in […]
“From the man whom I love, though my heart I disguise,” by Tobias Smollett
From the man whom I love, though my heart I disguise, I will freely describe the wretch I despise; And, if he has sense but to balance a straw, He will sure take a hint from the picture I draw. A wit without sense, without fancy a beau, Like a parrot he chatters, and struts […]
“Come listen, ye students of every degree” by Tobias Smollett
Come listen, ye students of every degree; I sing of a wit and a tutor perdie, A statesman profound, a critic immense, In short, a mere jumble of learning and sense; And yet of his talents though laudably vain, His own family arts he could never attain. His father, intending his fortune to build, In […]
Blue-Eyed Ann by Tobias Smollett
When the rough North forgets to howl, And Ocean’s billows cease to roll; When Libyan sands are bound in frost, And cold to Nova Zembla’s lost! When heavenly bodies cease to move, My blue-eyed Ann I’ll cease to love. No more shall flowers the meads adorn; Nor sweetness deck the rosy thorn; Nor swelling buds […]
Advice: A Satire. by Tobias Smollett
–Sed podice levi Caeduntur tumidæ, medico ridente, mariscæ. O proceres! censore opus est, an haruspice nobis? JUVENAL. –Nam quis Peccandi finem posuit sibi? quando recepit Ejectum semel atteritâ de fronte ruborem? Ibid. POET. Enough, enough; all this we knew before; ‘Tis infamous, I grant it, to be poor: And who, so much to sense and […]