The Irish Poet and the Natural World: An Anthology of Verse in English from the Tudors to the Romantics

John Lawson(?) (1708/9–1733–1759)

180 JOHN LAWSON(?) (1708/9–1733–1759) Though this poem appeared anonymously, it was almost certainly the work of the accomplished Latinist, John Lawson, to whom it is attributed in two surviving copies (NLI and the University of Michigan). Lawson was from County Monaghan and entered Trinity College Dublin in 1727. He rose through the ranks to become college librarian, lecturer in divinity, professor of oratory and history and finally (1753) professor of divinity. He was a famous preacher and is often credited as one of the founders of the Anglo-Irish oratorical tradition. Few eighteenth-century poems describe life in the built environment of Dublin – though there are many about jaunts out of Dublin to Ringsend, Templogue, Cabra, Glasnevin, Finglas and Blackrock for instance. However this poem describes an evening in a Dublin theatre, when Lawson was a student. In Dublin – as in the London of Swift’s ‘A Description of a City Shower’– the streets were noisy and filthy and the disposal of waste was a problem as yet unsolved. We have included the introduction and conclusion of Lawson’s poem. from: The Upper Gallery Amidst the Town’s tumultuous Scenes, What rises worthy of Poetic Strains? Say, Muse, wilt thou the baited Bull rehearse? Shall the stern Savage1 bellow in thy Verse? Or in soft Numbers shall the Milk-Maid shine? And her Cheek blush for ever in the Line? Say, shall the Streets with warbled Ballads chime? Or Thieves, highwav’ring, die in mournful Rhime?2 Shall Flatt’ry guide thy mercenary Quill; Lawyers impose no more, nor Doctors kill? 10 In Misses make sincerity be found, And Beaux in Principles and Body sound? Delightful Themes, reserv’d for future Odes! Sing now, O Goddess, those sublime Abodes, Where rais’d in graceful Pomp, the jovial Throng Sweeten the Intervals of Plays with Song. … i.e. the bull. (See below the poem ‘Lord Altham’s Bull’ of c.1772.) 1 A reference to printed broadsheets containing what purported to be the ‘Last Speech’ of 2 condemned criminals. These were sold to onlookers at the execution and were occasionally in rhyme. 181 John Lawson(?) ... When Ev’ning Clouds condensing fall in Rain, And draggled Crowds the cover’d Pent-house3 gain: Tradesmen take in their Goods, expos’d to sale, And tuck’d-up Hoops the Maiden Leg reveal: 20 When Politicians into Shops repair, And settle Nations, till the Sky grows clear, Then no Walks please: All Nature seems to frown, Black Kennels4 swell, and Coaches shake the Town. If one fair Splendid5 in thy Pocket glows, Fly to the Theatre’s instructive Shows; There some fam’d Heroe of a distant Age, Revives in Verse, and pompous awes the Stage; Or comic Scenes less solemn Joys dispense, Please, to instruct, and laugh us into Sense. 30 While the spruce Beaus loll thoughtless in their Chairs,6 Wrapt in thick Rug, we whistle up the Stairs:7 ... Secure from high we view th’amusing Scene, Survey their Follies, and forsee their Pain … Our thick Hibernian Drab,8 at Midnight Hours, Repels benumbing frosts, and driving Show’rs, Whilst those who would sublimer Tast[e]s express, Shine in a useless and a foreign Dress … But now the Curtain falls, the Musick flies, From their throng’d Seats the yawning Audience rise; 40 Whilst with slow Speed the rushing Crowds descend, The Stairs sound hollow, and the Gall’ries bend … A covered walk, arcade or colonnade in front of a row of buildings. 3 gutters in the street, black with dirt. 4 a slang word for a small coin. cf. John Philips’s poem ‘The Splendid Shilling’ (1701). 5 sedan chairs. 6 The young men are ascending to the highest part of the theatre, the ‘gods’. ‘Rug’ was a 7 coarse woollen cloth, frequently made in Ireland. cloaks or coats of a thick woollen cloth (‘drab’) made in Ireland. 8 182 The Beaus and Fair last quit the thinn’d Abode, (The brawny Chairman pants beneath his Load) Gay Creatures, proud of Dress and transient Bloom, The light Things flutter round, and gold the Gloom. So9 where the Sew’rs thro’ broken Channels glide, And stagnant Filth coagulates the Tide, Lur’d by the Stench unnumber’d Flies resort, And wanton circling, mix in various Sport; 50 From Side to Side the humming Insects run, Wave their gilt Wings, and glitter in the Sun. But...