_J>.\I'EHS or )I mAnEAF BuoNAPAHTE LA:\CAH 11 ~o. -i:l. XE\\"-Y EAR'S AD:OHESS TO THE PATRONS OF THE CAI-L\.\\'BA PRESS. LAMAR.
[Cahawba, Alabama]
Yearly doth the Laun•at !-ing ·In l1onor oi his country';; King, And Poets annually raise To Patrons tribnta;·v ln,·;;. '\'Vith Printcrl'I too i.t is· in ,·ogue
To write to friends 11 New-Years Ode, And in eomplinnce with the fashion 1"11 make some rhymes if I can match ·cm, Ami c·onjure up it short Address To the fair patrons of the Press. Through lernnings [sic] maze I never strny'd Nor woo'd the Muse in sylvan shade, Yet I'm resolv'd no more to doze; Hail doggrel verse and farewell prose. \\"here my own wit nnd fancy fail Old Horace's will still prernil; To take from him 1t hint or two. Tis only what mv betters do. Half that poets ,~·rite the~· ,:;teal But i,;ome have talents to conceal, Nor do 1 think them mu<.'11 to blame. Do as they ma,r their fate's the same, For genius iR n wing to sail \\-ith flying colo111·s to a jail. But there nre kna,·es hesides the poet, Lawyers and Doctor:s clnil~- show it, One robs your purse, the other kills. Death rids you of their fees and pills. The Fair themselves nre rogues I know For sad experience taught me so, They'll sten 1 ones henrt and after all Will laugh and say the theft is small. And must I then some book explore, And write what others wrote before! I'd rather own my genius small For borrow'd wit's no wit at all. :Muses descend, inspire my theme, Arround your poet shed a gleam; 0 with thy aid a dunce may rise. And spite of genius skim the skies. Tony-catch me old pegnssus- I'll seek the top of 1fount Pernassus, In order that my '.!ye may range, And notice what is new and strange. Why may I not this steed bestride And well as others, take a ride? He is I know hard on the rein and may perhaps dash out my brain Yet I will every danger face And even risk a Gilpin race. But as I am a rider young I may be in a mudhole flung And if I should I heg the render To overlook the sad procedure nnd leave me not ns Ohndinh Left Doctor Slop stuck in the mire, But patiently the laugh restrain
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