ENGLISH POETRY 1579-1830: SPENSER AND THE TRADITION
Dr. John Wolcot
Anonymous, "Verses, by Way of a Puff; addressed to Peter Pindar" Morning Herald (28 April 1786).
Dr. John Wolcot:
1776 ca.: A Lady of Truro
1786 ca.: Edmond Malone
1786: D-s Pallet
1786: R. S.
1786: A Lady
1787: G. B. R.
1787: H. D.
1788: A Loyal Subject
1789: Harriet Falconar
1789: William Hayley
1789: Mrs. Boys
1790: Isaac D'Israeli
1790: Rev. Andrew Macdonald
1792 ca.: George Reid
1794: Thomas James Mathias
1794: A. N.
1796: Robert Burns
1796: William Wordsworth
1796: Alexander Balfour
1799: Mary Robinson
1800: William Gifford
1800: George Reid
1800: Thomas Dermody
1801 ca.: William Jackson
1801: Alexander Thomson
1802: Anne Grant
1806: Rev. Lawrence Hynes Halloran
1806: Samuel Jackson Pratt
1810 ca.: Anonymous
1811: Henry Crabb Robinson
1812: A. K.
1814: Leigh Hunt
1814: Thomas Barnes
1815: William Henry Ireland
1816: X. X.
1818: Thomas Enort Smith
1819: John Taylor Esq.
1820: John Keats
1820 ca.: Anonymous
1824: John Taylor Esq.
1826: Rev. Richard Polwhele
1827: Robert Southey
1830: Richard Warner
1831: Rev. Richard Polwhele
1832: John Taylor Esq.
1848: Benjamin Disraeli
1850: John Britton
1852: William Jerdan
1858: Cyrus Redding
1882: Margaret Oliphant
1882: Epes Sargent
Hail, Peter Pindar! true to Satire's laws,
Nor fear the Critic's frown, nor court applause;
Hail, Peter Pindar! thine the glorious task,
To pluck from folly's face, fair friendship's mask.
To vindicate old Johnson's murdered fame,
Whilst gossip Boswell trembles at thy name;
How do we laugh to hear the lisping Piozzi,
Prattle alternate nothing with her Bozzi!
Or, when in earlier times, thy lyric lays,
With mingled irony, have scatter'd praise;
O'er arts and artists, by the fostering wing,
Of royal favor nursed, nor spared the king.
How have we laughed — Gods, could a paltry louse,
A monarch's soul to fiercest transport rouse!
Yet, quit, my friend, this barren road of fools;
Of flatt'ring coxcombs, and dependent tools;
Ah, do not thus, thy vigorous thoughts confine,
For nobler heights, sublimer flights be thine;
Be thou — what Churchill was — with virtuous rage,
Lash the bold vice of an abandoned age.—
Indignant, rough, let Satire's torrent roll,
Bear down the base, o'erwhelm the guilty soul:
Enough of artists, kings, and little men,
Heaven and thy country now demand thy pen.
Temple, April 24.