"But to proceed, the mind's keen eye / Of Squeezing Jack, thought he could spy / In our Quæ Genus that quick sense, / Which might reward his confidence"
— Combe, William (1742 -1823)
Author
Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Published R. Ackermann
Date
1822
Metaphor
"But to proceed, the mind's keen eye / Of Squeezing Jack, thought he could spy / In our Quæ Genus that quick sense, / Which might reward his confidence"
Metaphor in Context
On errands of this grave intent,
Quæ Genus now and then was sent,
And how he did his plans arrange,
Or in what shape place the exchange:
How he contriv'd these sly affairs,
Paid soon, or lengthen'd the arrears,
Of this we know not more nor less,
For we ne'er heard his tongue confess,
And 'twould be wasting time to guess.
But, somehow, he contriv'd to please,
By grace or guile, old Master Squeeze,
And by some strange, peculiar art,
He gain'd upon the Us'rer's heart,
If an heart such a being owns,
Who chuckles when misfortune moans,
At least, when that is understood
To be a vessel fraught with good.
But to proceed, the mind's keen eye
Of Squeezing Jack, thought he could spy
In our Quæ Genus that quick sense,
Which might reward his confidence;
That wary, penetrating thought,
Which could not be too dearly bought,
And in his present, sickly trim,
Would be of golden use to him:
For he grew old and wanted aid,
In his nice calculating trade.
In short, in every point of view,
As one who certain fancies knew,
The old man felt that he would do,
And that he could his interest make
A station at the desk to take.
Quæ Genus now and then was sent,
And how he did his plans arrange,
Or in what shape place the exchange:
How he contriv'd these sly affairs,
Paid soon, or lengthen'd the arrears,
Of this we know not more nor less,
For we ne'er heard his tongue confess,
And 'twould be wasting time to guess.
But, somehow, he contriv'd to please,
By grace or guile, old Master Squeeze,
And by some strange, peculiar art,
He gain'd upon the Us'rer's heart,
If an heart such a being owns,
Who chuckles when misfortune moans,
At least, when that is understood
To be a vessel fraught with good.
But to proceed, the mind's keen eye
Of Squeezing Jack, thought he could spy
In our Quæ Genus that quick sense,
Which might reward his confidence;
That wary, penetrating thought,
Which could not be too dearly bought,
And in his present, sickly trim,
Would be of golden use to him:
For he grew old and wanted aid,
In his nice calculating trade.
In short, in every point of view,
As one who certain fancies knew,
The old man felt that he would do,
And that he could his interest make
A station at the desk to take.
Categories
Provenance
Searching "mind" and "eye" in HDIS (Poetry)
Date of Entry
04/17/2006
