EPIGRAMS AND VERSES CONCERNING SIR JOSHUA
REYNOLDS
(1808-1811)
Can there be any thing more mean,
More Malice in disguise,
Than Praise a Man for doing what
That Man does most despise?
Reynolds Lectures Exactly so
When he praises Michael Angelo.
More Malice in disguise,
Than Praise a Man for doing what
That Man does most despise?
Reynolds Lectures Exactly so
When he praises Michael Angelo.
Sir Joshua Praises Michael Angelo:
‘Tis Christian Mildness when Knaves Praise a Foe;
But ’Twould be Madness all the World would say
Should Michael Angelo praise Sir Joshua—
Christ us’d the Pharisees in a rougher way.
‘Tis Christian Mildness when Knaves Praise a Foe;
But ’Twould be Madness all the World would say
Should Michael Angelo praise Sir Joshua—
Christ us’d the Pharisees in a rougher way.
FLORENTINE INGRATITUDE
Sir Joshua sent his own Portrait to
The birth Place of Michael Angelo,
And in the hand of the simpering fool
He put a dirty paper scroll,
And on the paper, to be polite,
Did “Sketches by Michael Angelo” write.
The Florentines said, “ ’Tis a Dutch English bore,
Michael Angelo’s Name writ on Rembrandt’s door.”
The birth Place of Michael Angelo,
And in the hand of the simpering fool
He put a dirty paper scroll,
And on the paper, to be polite,
Did “Sketches by Michael Angelo” write.
The Florentines said, “ ’Tis a Dutch English bore,
Michael Angelo’s Name writ on Rembrandt’s door.”
The Florentines call it an English Fetch,
For Michael Angelo did never sketch.
Every line of his has Meaning
And needs neither Suckling nor Weaning.
’Tis the trading English Venetian cant
To speak Michael Angelo & Act Rembrandt.
It will set his Dutch friends all in a roar
To write “Mich. Ang.” on Rembrandt’s Door.
But You must not bring in your hand a Lie
If you mean the Florentines should buy.
For Michael Angelo did never sketch.
Every line of his has Meaning
And needs neither Suckling nor Weaning.
’Tis the trading English Venetian cant
To speak Michael Angelo & Act Rembrandt.
It will set his Dutch friends all in a roar
To write “Mich. Ang.” on Rembrandt’s Door.
But You must not bring in your hand a Lie
If you mean the Florentines should buy.
Ghiotto’s Circle or Apelles’ Line
Were not the Work of Sketchers drunk with Wine,
Nor of the City Clark’s warm hearted Fashion,
Nor of Sir Isaac Newton’s Calculation,
Nor of the City Clark’s Idle Facilities
Which sprang from Sir Isaac Newton’s great Abilities.
Were not the Work of Sketchers drunk with Wine,
Nor of the City Clark’s warm hearted Fashion,
Nor of Sir Isaac Newton’s Calculation,
Nor of the City Clark’s Idle Facilities
Which sprang from Sir Isaac Newton’s great Abilities.
These Verses were written by a very Envious
Man,
Who, whatever likeness he may have to Michael Angelo,
Never can have any to Sir Jehoshuan.
Who, whatever likeness he may have to Michael Angelo,
Never can have any to Sir Jehoshuan.
A PITIFUL CASE
The Villain at the Gallows tree
When he is doom’d to die,
To assuage his misery
In Virtue’s praise does cry.
When he is doom’d to die,
To assuage his misery
In Virtue’s praise does cry.
So Reynolds when he came to die,
To assuage his bitter woe
Thus aloud does howl & cry:
“Michael Angelo! Michael Angelol”
To assuage his bitter woe
Thus aloud does howl & cry:
“Michael Angelo! Michael Angelol”
The Cripple every Step Drudges & labours,
And says: “Come, learn to walk of me, Good Neighbours.”
Sir Joshua in astonishment cries out:
“See, what Great Labour! Pain in Modest Doubtl”
And says: “Come, learn to walk of me, Good Neighbours.”
Sir Joshua in astonishment cries out:
“See, what Great Labour! Pain in Modest Doubtl”
Newton & Bacon cry, being badly Nurst:
“He is all Experiments from last to first.
He walks & stumbles as if he crep,
And how high labour’d is every step!”
“He is all Experiments from last to first.
He walks & stumbles as if he crep,
And how high labour’d is every step!”
TO VENETIAN ARTISTS
That God is Colouring Newton does shew,
And the devil is a Black outline, all of us know.
Perhaps this little Fable may make us merry:
A dog went over the water without a wherry:
A bone which he had stolen he had in his mouth;
He cared not whether the wind was north or south.
As he swam he saw the reflection of the bone.
“This is quite Perfection, one Generalizing Tone!
Outline! There’s no outline! There’s no such thing!
All is Chiaro Scuro, Poco Pen, it’s all colouring.”
Snap, Snap! he has lost shadow & substance too.
He had them both before: now how do ye do?
“A great deal better than I was before.
Those who taste colouring love it more & more.”
“O dear Mother outline, of knowledge most sage,
What’s the First Part of Painting?” she said: “Patronage.”
“And what is the second?” to please & Engage,
She frown’d like a Fury & said: “Patronage.”
“And what is the Third?” she put off Old Age,
And smil’d like a Syren & said: “Patronage.”
And the devil is a Black outline, all of us know.
Perhaps this little Fable may make us merry:
A dog went over the water without a wherry:
A bone which he had stolen he had in his mouth;
He cared not whether the wind was north or south.
As he swam he saw the reflection of the bone.
“This is quite Perfection, one Generalizing Tone!
Outline! There’s no outline! There’s no such thing!
All is Chiaro Scuro, Poco Pen, it’s all colouring.”
Snap, Snap! he has lost shadow & substance too.
He had them both before: now how do ye do?
“A great deal better than I was before.
Those who taste colouring love it more & more.”
“O dear Mother outline, of knowledge most sage,
What’s the First Part of Painting?” she said: “Patronage.”
“And what is the second?” to please & Engage,
She frown’d like a Fury & said: “Patronage.”
“And what is the Third?” she put off Old Age,
And smil’d like a Syren & said: “Patronage.”