"Sudden my verses take the rude alarm, / New-coin'd, and from the mint of fancy warm"
— Hamilton, William, of Bangour (1704-1754)
Place of Publication
Edinburgh
Publisher
Printed for W. Gordon
Date
1760
Metaphor
"Sudden my verses take the rude alarm, / New-coin'd, and from the mint of fancy warm"
Metaphor in Context
For when Aurora weeps the balmy dew,
(And dreams, as rev'rend dreamers tell, are true)
Sir George my shoulder slaps, just in the time
When some rebellious word consents to rhyme:
Sudden my verses take the rude alarm,
New-coin'd, and from the mint of fancy warm:
I start, I stare, I question with my eyes;
At once the whole poetic vision flies.
Up, up, exclaims the Knight; the season fair;
See how serene the sky, how calm the air;
Hark! from the hills the cheerful horns rebound,
And echo propagates the jovial sound;
The certain hound in thought his prey pursues,
The scent lies warm, and loads the tainted dews,
I quit my couch, and cheerfully obey,
Content to let the younker have his way;
I mount my courser, fleeter than the wind,
And leave the rage of poetry behind.
But when, the day in healthful labour lost,
We eat our supper earn'd at common cost;
When each frank tongue speaks out without control,
And the free heart expatiates o'er the bowl;
Though all love prose, my poetry finds grace,
And, pleased, I chant the glories of the chace.
(p. 160)
(And dreams, as rev'rend dreamers tell, are true)
Sir George my shoulder slaps, just in the time
When some rebellious word consents to rhyme:
Sudden my verses take the rude alarm,
New-coin'd, and from the mint of fancy warm:
I start, I stare, I question with my eyes;
At once the whole poetic vision flies.
Up, up, exclaims the Knight; the season fair;
See how serene the sky, how calm the air;
Hark! from the hills the cheerful horns rebound,
And echo propagates the jovial sound;
The certain hound in thought his prey pursues,
The scent lies warm, and loads the tainted dews,
I quit my couch, and cheerfully obey,
Content to let the younker have his way;
I mount my courser, fleeter than the wind,
And leave the rage of poetry behind.
But when, the day in healthful labour lost,
We eat our supper earn'd at common cost;
When each frank tongue speaks out without control,
And the free heart expatiates o'er the bowl;
Though all love prose, my poetry finds grace,
And, pleased, I chant the glories of the chace.
(p. 160)
Categories
Provenance
Searching "fancy" and "coin" in HDIS (Poetry); found again "mint"
Citation
William Hamilton, Poems on Several Occasions (Edinburgh: Printed for W. Gordon, 1760). <Link to Google Books>
Date of Entry
04/14/2005
Date of Review
07/14/2011
