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The Peacock and Parrot, on their Tour to Discover the Author of "The Peacock At Home"   By:

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[Illustration: "When lo! from the regions of air &c." p. 7.]







H. Bryer, Printer, Bridge Street, Blackfriars, London.


The little Poem now presented to the Public, was intended for publication immediately after the appearance of the "Peacock at Home," but from various causes, was laid aside till now. In the opinion of the Publisher, however, it is so nearly allied in point of merit to that celebrated Trifle, that he is induced, although at this late period, to print it with a few appropriate embellishments.

THE [p 5] PEACOCK, &c.

Ye votaries of Fashion, who have it to boast, That your names to posterity will not be lost; That the last Morning Chronicle due honor paid To the still blooming Dowager's gay Masquerade; That the Minister's Dinner has blaz'd in the Times , That the Countess's Gala has jingled in rhymes; Oh! tell me, who would not endeavour to please, And exert ev'ry nerve, for rewards such as these?

It was early in Spring but no matter what year, [p 6] That the PEACOCK, delighting in noise, and good cheer, Determin'd, for dear notoriety's sake, A dash in the whirlpool of Fashion to make. A Concert and Ball, their attractions united, To which the Beau Monde were politely invited. Away they all flew, it was heavenly weather, And soon at the PEACOCK'S arriv'd, in full feather. The scene was enchanting! for taste so refin'd Had never appear'd with such splendor combin'd. The Dance was all gaiety, frolic, and glee; The Music transporting! the Supper exquis ! The Beaux were all prime , and the flow'r of the nation, The Belles were all style, beauty, grace, fascination: Good humour presided, where pleasure was law, And the guests, more or less, all came off with eclat .

But, alas! Time has wings; and tho' still vastly clever, We cannot make Balls last for ever and ever, When day was seen breaking, the company parted; [p 7] And none, I am told, ever went lighter hearted.

"I knew," cried SIR ARGUS, " my Gala would shine: Oh! charming distinction, Oh! pleasure divine. Yes! I too shall see myself figure away In the records of fashion, the buz of the day; And the world shall admire, in ages to come, The brilliant display of the PEACOCK at Home."

Two months had now pass'd, and SIR ARGUS, one morning, Was ruffling his plumes, and his person adorning, When lo! from the regions of air, quick descending, A PIGEON appear'd, and his neck gently bending, Presented a Billet; then silently bow'd, And, spreading his wings, was soon lost in a cloud.

SIR ARGUS, astonish'd, in haste now uncloses The paper, perfum'd with fresh Otto of Roses. "In fortune's dear name," he exclaims, "what is this [p 8] ' The Peacock at Home! ' Oh! superlative bliss! My feelings, prophetic, the honor foretold; Yes! The Peacock at Home shall be printed in gold: How just the description! what grace, and what spirit! Aye this is indeed a production of merit."

Be it known, that the great Biped Lords of Creation , Of every class, and in every station, All secretly cherish, what all yet disclaim, That feeling, which we curiosity name. Now our PEACOCK imperial, tho' too proud to own, That the fav'rite of Juno had ever been prone To a weakness, he always had wish'd to believe Was exclusively felt by the Daughters of Eve , Yet died with impatience to know who had written The elegant verses, with which he was smitten... Continue reading book >>

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