Epigram On The New Experiment Of Lighting The House Of Commons By Means Of Gas-Pipes Placed Between The Two Ceilings

Too long within the House has darkness dwelt,
Egyptian darkness, by the nation felt;
Therefore, though demagogues, whose deeds are ill,
For blind debate might love that darkness still,
'Tis well the new experiment to try:
A stronger, purer light none can deny
Will then illume the House light coming from on high.

    *    *    *    *    *

'Not one of all my actors, rot 'em!'
Cried Hal, 'can play the part of Bottom.'
"Play it yourself;" retorted Ned,
"You'll look quite natural with an ass's head."

Thomas Oldham

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Thomas Oldham

Epigram To A Hypocritical Calvinist

Thomas Oldham, Simple Poetry

On Seeing Mademoiselle *** Dance At The Opera In Paris

Thomas Oldham, Simple Poetry

Epigram On Hearing Of The Burning Of Moscow

Thomas Oldham, Simple Poetry

Epigram On The Many Violent Disputes Among The Preachers Of The Gospel

Thomas Oldham, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

Prologue. Spoken At The Opening Of The New House, March 26, 1674.

    A plain-built^[1] house, after so long a stay,
    Will send you half unsatisfied away;
    When, fallen from your expected pomp, you find
    A bare convenience only is design'd.
    You, who each day can theatres behold,
    Like Nero's palace, shining all with gold,
    Our mean ungilded stage will scorn, we fear,
    And, for the homely room, disdain the cheer.
    Yet now cheap druggets to a mode are grown,
    And a plain suit, since we can make but one,
    Is better than to be by tarnish'd gawdry known.
    They, who are by your favours wealthy made,
    With mighty sums may carry on the trade:
    We, broken bankers, half destroy'd by fire,
    With our small stock to humble roofs retire:
    Pity our loss, while you their pomp admire.
 ...

John Dryden

Prologue To Abbey's Edition Of "She Stoops To Conquer."

In the year Seventeen Hundred and Seventy and Three,
When the GEORGES were ruling o'er Britain the free,
There was played a new play, on a new-fashioned plan,
By the GOLDSMITH who brought out the Good-Natur'd Man.
New-fashioned, in truth--for this play, it appears,
Dealt largely in laughter, and nothing in tears,
While the type of those days, as the learnèd will tell ye,
Was the CUMBERLAND whine or the whimper of KELLY.
So the Critics pooh-poohed, and the Actresses pouted,
And the Public were cold, and the Manager doubted;
But the Author had friends, and they all went to see it.
Shall we join them in fancy? You answer, So be it!
Imagine yourself then, good Sir, in a wig,
Either grizzle or bob--never mind, you look big.
You've a sword at your side, in your shoes there ar...

Henry Austin Dobson

Epigram On Hearing A Clergyman Preach A Dull Sermon In A Loud, Shrill Voice

Still, still his bell-like voice rings through my head;
Yet not one bright thought cheers my mental view;
O! would that I were deaf, asleep, or dead!
Ye marble statues! how I envy you!

    *        *        *        *        *

To hear him preach the Methodistic creed,
What eager crowds to Ranter's chapel speed!
His eloquence the harden'd sinner frightens;
Like heaven itself says Fame, he thunders, lightens.
I go to hear him; Fame has made a blunder;
I see no lightning, though I hear the thunder.

For flowery sermons Doctor Drudge
    Of preachers at the top is;
If from their influence we may judge,
    His flowers are only poppies.

    *        *        *        *        *

Sir! you're both fool and knave! to Frank, Blunt cries

Thomas Oldham

Epilogue For "The King's House."[1]

    We act by fits and starts, like drowning men,
    But just peep up, and then pop down again.
    Let those who call us wicked change their sense;
    For never men lived more on Providence.
    Not lottery cavaliers are half so poor,
    Nor broken cits, nor a vacation whore;
    Not courts, nor courtiers living on the rents
    Of the three last ungiving parliaments:
    So wretched, that, if Pharaoh could divine,
    He might have spared his dream of seven lean kine,
    And changed his vision for the Muses Nine.
    The comet that, they say, portends a dearth,
    Was but a vapour drawn from play-house earth:
    Pent there since our last fire, and, Lilly says,
    Foreshows our change of state, and thin third-days.
    'Tis not our want of wit that keeps us...

John Dryden

Ode To Himself Upon The Censure Of His New Inn

Come, leave the loathed stage,
And the more loathsome age;
Where pride and impudence, in faction knit,
Usurp the chair of wit!
Indicting and arraigning every day
Something they call a play.
Let their fastidious, vain
Commission of the brain
Run on and rage, sweat, censure, and condemn;
They were not made for thee, less thou for them.

Say that thou pour'st them wheat,
And they will acorns eat;
'Twere simple fury still thyself to waste
On such as have no taste!
To offer them a surfeit of pure bread
Whose appetites are dead!
No, give them grains their fill,
Husks, draff to drink and swill:
If they love lees, and leave the lusty wine,
Envy them not, their palate's with the swine.

No doubt some mouldy tale,
Like Pericles, and st...

Ben Jonson

Occasional Address For The Opening Of The New Theatre Of St. Stephen,

INTENDED TO HAVE BEEN SPOKEN BY THE PROPRIETOR IN FULL COSTUME, ON THE 24TH OF NOVEMBER, 1812.


This day a New House for your edification
We open, most thinking and right-headed nation!
Excuse the materials--tho' rotten and bad,
They're the best that for money just now could be had;
And if echo the charm of such houses should be,
You will find it shall echo my speech to a T.

    As for actors, we've got the old Company yet,
The same motley, odd, tragicomical set;
And considering they all were but clerks t'other day,
It is truly surprising how well they can play.
Our Manager,^[1] (he who in Ulster was nurst,
And sung Erin go Bragh for the galleries first,
But on finding Pitt-interest a much better thing,
Changed his note of...

Thomas Moore