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Subject: B: St. John Chapter Eight, Verse Six & Eight
Date: 28 Oct 2005 15:31:02 -0700
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Readers, the liberty which I take
in addressing to you the trifling
production of a few idle hours,
will doubtless move your wonder
and probably your contempt
I will not, however, with the futility of
apologies, intrude upon your time, but
briefly acknowledge the motives of
my temerity lest by a premature exercise
of that patience which I hope will befriend
me, I should lessen its benevolence & be
accessary to my own condemnation
Without name, without recommendation, &
unknown alike to success & disgrace, to whom
can I so properly apply for patronage, as to
those who publicly profess themselves inspectors
of all literary performances?
The extensive plan of your critical observations -
which, not confined to works of utility or ingenuity,
is equally open to those of frivolous experimentation -
and, yet worse than frivolous, dullness, - encourages me
to seek for your protection, since, - perhaps for my crimes! -
it entitles me to your annotations. To resent, therefore,
this offering, however insignificant, would ill become
the universality of your undertaking; tho not to despise it
may, alas!, be out of your power
The language of adulation & the incense of flattery,
tho the natural inheritance, & constant resource,
from time immemorial, of the poet, to me offer nothing
but the wistful regret that I dare not invoke their aid.
Sinister views would be imputed to all I could say,
since, thus situated, to extol your judgment wd seem
the effect of art, & to celebrate your impartiality
be attributed to creating desire for that impartiality
You are bound by the sacred ties of integrity
to exert the most spirited impartiality, and to
which your suffrages should carry the marks of
pure, dauntless, irrefragable truth - to appeal
to your mercy were to solicit your dishonor
and therefore, - though 'tis sweeter than
frankincense - more grateful to the senses
than all the perfumes of Arabia - and tho it
droppeth like the gentle rain from heaven
upon the place beneath - I court it not! To
your justice alone am I entitled, and by that I
must abide
Your engagements are not to the supplicating
poets but to the candid public, which will not
fail to crave the penalty & forfeit of your bond
No hackneyed writer, inured to abuse & callous
to criticism, here braves your severity - neither
does a half-starved garreteer obliged by hunger
implore your lenity: your examination will be alike
unbiased by partiality - no refractory murmuring
will follow your censure, no private interest shall
be gratified by your praise
Here let me rest - & snatch myself, while I
yet am able, from the fascination of egotism -
an immortal who has more votaries than ever
did homage to the most popular deity of antiquity
& whose singular quality is that while it excites
a blind & involuntary adoration in almost every
individual its influence is universally disallowed, its
power universally contemned, and its worship,
even by its followers, never mentioned
but with abhorrence, and present you here
with my poem, a sequel at that, for your
possible enjoyment & hopeful instruction:
B: St. John Chapter Eight, Verse Six & Eight
ST. JOHN CHAPTER EIGHT, VERSE SIX
you were the toad, I was the sun's rat
such, such did we seize! that the sun
did herself turn rat in vengeance
ST. JOHN CHAPTER EIGHT, VERSE EIGHT
dark as
flow long the skies through Assyrian
king all shipwreck'd in perfumes & moon
or
dark as
flies glad the king's hour has come
no less
dark as these, quiet as this, then -
gleam ye, weary snare, gleam as Virginia's
disimpassioned spectre you pierce through
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