Poems of Anne Countess of Winchilsea 1903/Mercury and the Elephant
POEMS
MERCURY AND THE ELEPHANT
A Prefatory Fable
As Merc'ry travell'd thro' a Wood(Whose Errands are more Fleet than Good)An Elephant before him lay,That much encumber'd had the Way:The Messenger, who's still in haste,Wou'd fain have bow'd, and so have past;When up arose th' unweildy Brute,And wou'd repeat a late Dispute,In which (he said) he'd gain'd the PrizeFrom a wild Boar of monstrous Size: 10But Fame (quoth he) with all her Tongues,Who Lawyers, Ladies, Soldiers wrongs,Has, to my Disadvantage, toldAn Action throughly Bright and Bold;Has said, that I foul Play had us'd,And with my Weight th' Opposer bruis'd;Had laid my Trunk about his Brawn,Before his Tushes cou'd be drawn;Had stunn'd him with a hideous Roar,And twenty-thousand Scandals more: 20But I defy the Talk of Men,Or Voice of Brutes in ev'ry Den;Th' impartial Skies are all my Care,And how it stands Recorded there.Amongst you Gods, pray, What is thought? Quoth Mercury—Then have you Fought! Solicitous thus shou'd I beFor what's said of my Verse and Me;Or shou'd my Friends Excuses frame, And beg the Criticks not to blame 30(Since from a Female Hand it came)Defects in Judgment, or in Wit;They'd but reply—Then has she Writ!
Our Vanity we more betray,In asking what the World will say,Than if, in trivial Things like these,We wait on the Event with ease;Nor make long Prefaces, to showWhat Men are not concern'd to know:For still untouch'd how we succeed, 40'Tis for themselves, not us, they Read;Whilst that proceeding to requite,We own (who in the Muse delight)'Tis for our Selves, not them, we Write.Betray'd by Solitude to tryAmusements, which the Prosp'rous fly;And only to the Press repair,To fix our scatter'd Papers there;Tho' whilst our Labours are preserv'd,The Printers may, indeed, be starv'd. 50