SING the SOFA. I, who lately sang
Truth, Hope, and Charity,* and touch'd with awe
The solemn chords, and with a trembling hand, Escap'd with pain from that advent’rous flight, Now seek repose upon an humbler theme; The theme though humble, yet august and proud Th' occasion-for the fair commands the song.
Time was, when clothing sumptuous or for use, Save their own painted skins, our sires had none. As yet black breeches were not; satin smooth,
Or velvet soft, or plush with shaggy pile:
The hardy chief upon the rugged rock Wash'd by the sea, or on the grav❜ly bank Thrown up by wintry torrents roaring loud, Fearless of wrong, repos'd his weary strength. Those barb'rous ages past, succeeded next The birth-day of invention; weak at first, Dull in design, and clumsy to perform. Joint-stools were then created; on three legs Upborn they stood. Three legs upholding firm A massy slab, in fashion square or round. On such a stool immortal Alfred sat,
And sway'd the sceptre of his infant realms: And such in ancient halls and mansions drear May still be seen; but perforated sore,
And drill'd in holes, the solid oak is found,
By worms voracious eating through and through.
At length a generation more refin'd
Improv'd the simple plan; made three legs four, Gave them a twisted form vermicular,
And o'er the seat, with plenteous wadding stuff'd,
Induc'd a splendid cover, green and blue, Yellow and red, of tap'stry richly wrought And woven close, or needle-work sublime. There might ye see the piony spread wide, The full-blown rose, the shepherd and his lass, Lap-dog and lambkin with black staring eyes, And parrots with twin cherries in their beak.
Now came the cane from India, smooth and bright
With Nature's varnish; sever'd into stripes That interlac'd each other, these supplied Of texture firm a lattice-work, that brac'd The new machine, and it became a chair. But restless was the chair; the back erect Distress'd the weary loins, that felt no ease; The slipp'ry seat betray'd the sliding part That press'd it, and the feet hung dangling down, Anxious in vain to find the distant floor.
The hardy chief upon the rugged rock
Wash'd by the sea, or on the grav❜ly bank Thrown up by wintry torrents roaring loud, Fearless of wrong, repos'd his weary strength. Those barb'rous ages past, succeeded next The birth-day of invention; weak at first, Dull in design, and clumsy to perform. Joint-stools were then created; on three legs Upborn they stood. Three legs upholding firm A massy slab, in fashion square or round. On such a stool immortal Alfred sat,
And sway'd the sceptre of his infant realms: And such in ancient halls and mansions drear May still be seen; but perforated sore,
And drill'd in holes, the solid oak is found,
By worms voracious eating through and through.
At length a generation more refin'd
Improv'd the simple plan; made three legs four, Gave them a twisted form vermicular,
And o'er the seat, with plenteous wadding stuff'd, Induc'd a splendid cover, green and blue, Yellow and red, of tap'stry richly wrought And woven close, or needle-work sublime. There might ye see the piony spread wide, The full-blown rose, the shepherd and his lass, Lap-dog and lambkin with black staring eyes, And parrots with twin cherries in their beak.
Now came the cane from India, smooth and
With Nature's varnish; sever'd into stripes That interlac'd each other, these supplied Of texture firm a lattice-work, that brac'd The new machine, and it became a chair. But restless was the chair; the back erect Distress'd the weary loins, that felt no ease; The slipp'ry seat betray'd the sliding part
That press'd it, and the feet hung dangling down, Anxious in vain to find the distant floor.
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