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POETICAL DIALOGUE

BETWEEN

LIONEL LOVELORN, ESQ.

AND

GEOFFRY GINGER, ESQ.

Whereas, so pleas'd the Powers above,
I'm fall’n, desperately, in love !

TRUMBULL,

THE object of the following Dialogue is to “brand with scorn" all petty dealers in draggle-tailed distichs and hitching hyperboles, who jingle about “ sighing swains,” and “love-lorn lasses.” But I have had neither leisure nor patience, except in a few instances, to point out the particular nonsense of the many individual “ dull fools,” of that kind,

Who will persist, although " in spite
Of Nature and their stars, to write ;"

but have aimed the shafts of satire, with little discrimination, at the whole tribe of moon-struck Sonneteers, who palm upon the publick their “thrilling ecstasies,” and “liquid perils,” for genuine chattels of Parnassus. I would further observe, that I had nearly finished this dialogue before I had seen the “Baviad and Mæviad,” in which Mr. Gifford lashes some of the same herd which are here made the subject of satire. But although I cannot expect to gather laurels in the path of such a writer as Mr. Gifford, I hope I may be considered at least as a gleaner in the field of science, and have the honour of correcting some of the “servum pecus” who may have escaped his animadversion.

POETICAL DIALOGUE

BETWEEN

LIONEL LOVELORN, ESQ. AND GEOFFRY

GINGER, ESQ.*

LIONEL.

LET shepherds pipe romantick strains
To melting maids, on lilied plains,
The charms of rustick beauty tell,
Of romping Bess, and“ rosy Nell,”
While lambs disportive gambols play, ..
And robins vocalize the spray

GEOFFRY.

T:11

Till whip-poor-will repeat the song, And mocking-bird the note prolong,

* Lionel attempting to chaunt a love-song, Geoffry re. spondeth every stanza, and taketh him off, much after the manner of a merry Andrew, at Bartholomew Fair.

Or tune sweet Fancy's vocal shell,
To moose-wood whistle, while they tell,
In strains as sad as you can think on,
In unison with bob-o-linkhorn
That Sally—somebody, their jewel,
Though very fair, was very cruel,
Till blushing heifers, grazing round,
To love-lorn bulls repeat the sound.

LIONEL.

Let amateurs of wild romance,
On Shakspeare's airy night-steed prance ;
Born on light wing of necromancy,
Excurse to highest realms of Fancy;
Or, led by sprightly sylph, or gnome,
O'er Spencer's fairy region roam.-

GEOFFRY.

Not every crow, nor croaking raven, Can match the tuneful swan of Avon ; Some bards, who mount, like school-boy's kite, Are wildered in their giddy flight, Mid cloudy labyrinths, so mazy, Like wild-geese, lost in weather hazy

LIONEL.

Or let your dealer in sublime,
The bard, who builds the lofty rhyme,
Towering on bold Mæonian wing,
The toils of martial heroes sing,
Till tocsin-tone of triumph swells
To pealing pean, while he dwells.
On Abercrombie's deeds, or else on,
The noble feats of Admiral Nelson :-

GEOFFRY,

Or wight of eagle-ken, who notes The murderous feats of sans culottes, Who best can manage Death's machines, Guns, bayonets, bombs, and guillotines.

LIONEL.

'Tis mine a nobler theme to choose, A theme more worthy of my muse, For Sylvia's eyes my soul inspire, And Cupid tunes Apollo's lyre !

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