Address spoken by Miss Fontenelle
STILL anxious to secure your partial favour,
And not less anxious, sure, this night, than ever,
A Prologue, Epilogue, or some such matter,
Twould vamp my bill, said I, if nothing better;
So sought a poet, roosted near the skies,
Told him I came to feast my curious eyes;
Said, nothing like his works was ever printed;
And last, my prologue-business slily hinted.
Maam, let me tell you, quoth my man of rhymes,
I know your bentthese are no laughing times:
Can youbut, Miss, I own I have my fears
Dissolve in pause, and sentimental tears;
With laden sighs, and solemn-rounded sentence,
Rouse from his sluggish slumbers, fell Repentance;
Paint Vengeance as he takes his horrid stand,
Waving on high the desolating brand,
Calling the storms to bear him oer a guilty land?
I could no moreaskance the creature eyeing,
Dye think, said I, this face was made for crying?
Ill laugh, thats poznay more, the world shall know it;
And so, your servant! gloomy Master Poet!
Firm as my creed, Sirs, tis my fixd belief,
That Miserys another word for Grief:
I also thinkso may I be a bride!
That so much laughter, so much life enjoyd.
Thou man of crazy care and ceaseless sigh,
Still under bleak Misfortunes blasting eye;
Doomd to that sorest task of man alive
To make three guineas do the work of five:
Laugh in Misfortunes facethe beldam witch!
Say, youll be merry, tho you cant be rich.
Thou other man of care, the wretch in love,
Who long with jiltish airs and arts hast strove;
Who, as the boughs all temptingly project,
Measurst in desperate thoughta ropethy neck
Or, where the beetling cliff oerhangs the deep,
Peerest to meditate the healing leap:
Wouldst thou be curd, thou silly, moping elf?
Laugh at her follieslaugh een at thyself:
Learn to despise those frowns now so terrific,
And love a kinderthats your grand specific.
To sum up all, be merry, I advise;
And as were merry, may we still be wise.
Poems by Robert Burns
