Bp. Beilby Porteus

Thomas Hastings?, "Written extempore on hearing Dr. Porteus preach at Lambeth Church, May 2" Morning Chronicle and London Advertiser (7 May 1773).

Hail, rev'rend Lambeth! in thy sacred porch,
Resides a Porteus, angel of the church!
Convincing accents dwell upon his tongue;
His theme Glad Tidings, melody his song.
Doctrines so pure, so gloriously array'd,
So sweetly uttered, and so heav'nly said,
With pleasing wonder and delight persuade.
No more th' Northumbrian BUR of Scottish David,
Whose heroes by his attitudes are saved;
No more the spouting oratorical H—,
Whose head is puff'd up i' th' mode of Paris:
That little learned great man in the classics;
That second Cicero — in the House of Essex.
No more we talk of M—n, and R—ne;
Of dead dunce Dyer, th' corner of Long-lane.
Hide your diminish'd heads, ye giddy train.
So, when the sun arises on Soho,
(Where beaus and nymphs of Belial often go)
The motly tribe disperse on his advance,
'Sham'd of their tawdry 'guise, and midnight dance.

With Homer's fire, and with Virgil's ease,
Hear Porteus reason, and the fancy please:
From his bright rays, we light, and heat receive,
An Atterbury still! behold, a Secker live!
T. H.