ENGLISH POETRY 1579-1830: SPENSER AND THE TRADITION
Samuel Jackson Pratt
J. G., "Stanzas, most respectfully inscribed to Mr. Pratt" Select Reviews and Spirit of the Foreign Magazines [Philadelphia] 2 (December 1809) 427.
Samuel Jackson Pratt:
1778 ca.: William Cole
1781: Rev. Robert Potter
1781: James Beattie
1781: B. Walwyn
1781: Clara Reeve
1781: Edmund Rack
1782: Horace Walpole
1782: Anna Seward
1785: Clara Reeve
1785: Rev. Richard Polwhele
1785: H. S.
1786: Anna Seward
1786: Rev. Mr. Poleskcles
1799: Mary Robinson
1802: William Mavor
1802: William Meyler
1803: Henry James Pye
1803: Rev. Richard Polwhele
1803: John Morfitt
1803: R. B. W-n
1804: Rev. Richard Graves
1805: Anna Seward
1808: Lord Byron
1809: Lord Byron
1809: Robert Southey
1809: J. G.
1810: Sir Walter Scott
1810: Mary Russell Mitford
1812: Charles Caleb Colton
1815: William Henry Ireland
1832: John Taylor Esq.
1850: John Britton
1952: Mary Alden Hopkins
1738: Rev. James De La Cour
1809: Samuel Jackson Pratt
1810: William Gifford
Sweet flower! that deck'st the river's brink,
Bending to every boisterous gale,
Array'd in summer's lively pink,
From whom the bees existence drink,
As on thy bosom they regale,
Why dost thou here in silence dwell,
Secluded from the garden flowers?
Why leave the tribes of yonder dell,
Whose glaring tints profusely swell,
And spend alone the lingering hours?
When storms deface the laughing sky,
And thunders shake the vaulted air,
When lightnings thro' the vaulted air,
No friend, my charming flower! is nigh,
Thy matchless properties to spare!
Then vain indeed thy graceful mien,
And all thy attributes will prove!
In vain shall sorrow intervene,
Thy charms so modestly serene,
To shelter from the storms above!
Then tell me, flower, why thus alone
Thou lov'st in solitude to shroud!
Does malice on thy features frown,
Because they're chaster than her own,
Or dost thou hate the crowd?
"Alas! my friend! this lonely spot
Has long my favourite station been;
Here to the garden-tribe forgot,
Their joys incestuously hot,
I breathe the air of health serene!
"Besides, the splendour of their dress,
Outshines too much my languid hue;
Nor will the moans of weak distress,
Excite in them one fond caress,
Howe'er my friend they may in you."
Then since 'tis thus, my sweetest flower!
Come! let me bear thee far away,
Where neither haughty pride nor power,
Can on thy matchless beauties lower,
Or spurn thy indigent array.
Thus genius blest with every grace,
To triumph o'er the human heart,
Withdraws to some sequestered place,
The mighty works of time to trace,
Unknown to all the schemes of art.
Thus PRATT with kind paternal care,
Smiles on the pure poetick FLOWER;*
Retrieves it from the desert bare,
To thrive in more salubrious air,
And flourish with the circling hour!
Grafton-street, August, 1809.
* Joseph Blacket