He comes, the herald of a noisy world, With spatter'd boots, strapp'd waist, and frozen locks; News from all nations lumbering at his back. True to his charge, the close-pack'd load behind, Yet, careless what he brings, his one concern Is to conduct it to the destined inn; And, having dropp'd the expected bag, pass on. Or charged with amorous sighs of absent swains, Or nymph responsive, equally affect His horse and him, unconscious of them all. But O the important budget! usher'd in Or do we grind her still? The grand debate, The logic, and the wisdom, and the wit, And the loud laugh-I long to know them all; Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, Nor his, who patient stands till his feet throb, Of patriots, bursting with heroic rage, This folio of four pages, happy work! Fast bound in chains of silence, which the fair, Though eloquent themselves, yet fear to break; |