STRAHAN, Tonson, Lintot of the times, Patron and publisher of rhymes, For thee the bard up Pindus climbs, My Murray. To thee, with hope and terror dumb, The unfledged MS. authors come; Thou printest all -- and sellest some -- My Murray. Upon thy table's baize so green The last new Quarterly is seen; But where is thy new Magazine, My Murray? Along thy sprucest book-shelves shine The works thou deemest most divine -- The Art of Cookery, and mine, My Murray. Tours, Travels, Essays, too, I wist, And Sermons to thy mill bring grist; And then thou hast the Navy List, My Murray. And Heaven forbid I should conclude Without 'the Board of Longitude,' Although this narrow paper would, My Murray! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 6. THE KISS by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI PRAYER AFTER YOUTH by MAXWELL ANDERSON PSALM 23. DOMINUS REGIT ME by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE PETITION (1) by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE MATRIMONIAL MELODIES: 6. TO ANY WIFE by BERTON BRALEY WARNING AND REPLY by EMILY JANE BRONTE HASTINGS' SONNETS: 8 by SAMUEL EGERTON BRYDGES |