"(Yet what smooth Sycophant by thee can gain? / When Lust it self strikes thy Flint-Heart in vain?)"
— Dryden, John (1631-1700) [Poem ascribed to]
Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Printed for Jacob Tonson
Date
1693
Metaphor
"(Yet what smooth Sycophant by thee can gain? / When Lust it self strikes thy Flint-Heart in vain?)"
Metaphor in Context
Say, Goat, for whom this Mass of Wealth you heap?
For whom thy hoorded Bags in silence sleep?
Apulian Farms for the Rich Soil admir'd?
And thy large Fields where Falcons may be tyr'd?
Thy Fruitful Vineyards on Campanian Hills?
(Tho none drinks less, yet none more Vessels fills)
From such a Store 'tis barbarous to grudge
A small Relief to your Exhausted Drudge:
Weigh well the matter, wer't not fitter much
The Poor Inhabitants of yonder Thatch
Call'd me their Lord (who to Extreams am driven)
Than to some worthless Sycophant be given?
(Yet what smooth Sycophant by thee can gain?
When Lust it self strikes thy Flint-Heart in vain?)
A Beggar! Fie! 'tis Impudence, (he cry'd)
And such mean shifting Answers still reply'd;
But Rent unpaid, says Begg till Virro Grant;
(How ill does Modesty consist with Want?)
My single Boy (like Polyphemus Eye)
Mourns his harsh Fate, and Weeps for a Supply.
One will not do, hard Labour'd and hard Fed,
How then shall Hungry two expect their Bread?
What shall I say, when rough December Storms?
When Frosts, and Snow, have crampt their Naked Arms
What Comforts without Money can I bring?
Will they be satisfy'd to think on Spring?
(p. 181, ll. 100-125)
For whom thy hoorded Bags in silence sleep?
Apulian Farms for the Rich Soil admir'd?
And thy large Fields where Falcons may be tyr'd?
Thy Fruitful Vineyards on Campanian Hills?
(Tho none drinks less, yet none more Vessels fills)
From such a Store 'tis barbarous to grudge
A small Relief to your Exhausted Drudge:
Weigh well the matter, wer't not fitter much
The Poor Inhabitants of yonder Thatch
Call'd me their Lord (who to Extreams am driven)
Than to some worthless Sycophant be given?
(Yet what smooth Sycophant by thee can gain?
When Lust it self strikes thy Flint-Heart in vain?)
A Beggar! Fie! 'tis Impudence, (he cry'd)
And such mean shifting Answers still reply'd;
But Rent unpaid, says Begg till Virro Grant;
(How ill does Modesty consist with Want?)
My single Boy (like Polyphemus Eye)
Mourns his harsh Fate, and Weeps for a Supply.
One will not do, hard Labour'd and hard Fed,
How then shall Hungry two expect their Bread?
What shall I say, when rough December Storms?
When Frosts, and Snow, have crampt their Naked Arms
What Comforts without Money can I bring?
Will they be satisfy'd to think on Spring?
(p. 181, ll. 100-125)
Categories
Provenance
Browsing in EEBO
Citation
The Satires of Decimus Junius Juvenalis. Translated into English Verse By Mr. Dryden and Several other Eminent Hands. Together with the Satires of Aulus Persius Flaccus. (London: Printed for Jacob Tonson, 1693). <Link to EEBO>
Date of Entry
07/11/2013
