understand
The wretched rhymes and nauseous stuff
Of this conceited, vile ruff-skuff,
Would, surely, leave their secret haunts,
And ever cease their nightly chants;
Convinced that they have been, at last,
In frightful strains, by Park surpast;
And that this vagrant of the muse,
Foul caterer for sinks and stews,—
The Five-Points' poet, has outdone
All they have ever screech'd or sung.
Despairing, thence, they would retire
Long distance from his loathsome lyre,
And let their lonely caves and rocks
Resound with his poetic shocks;
To be, perhaps, all rent in twain
By his unearthly, rumbling strain.
As I was musing on this theme,
I fell asleep, and had a dream:
I saw the fish that skim the deep,
And o'er the billows nimbly leap,
All sink beneath the boiling wave,
Down to the lowest depths, to lave:
For they had heard the dismal lay
Of Park come booming down the bay,
And, doubtless, thought some hungry shark
Was chasing them with hellish bark;
That his sharp teeth, already nigh,
Would them destroy, and they must die;
That there, alas, was no escape
From his terrific gab and gape,
And that their gamb'ling, watery run
Was, now, alas, for ever done!
And as they, deep in ocean's ink,
Despairing, to the bottom sink,
O'erwhelm'd by that infernal sound,
They cast a gloomy gaze around,
And call'd on Neptune, sea-throned god,
To smite the rascal with his rod—
To pierce him with his trident spear,
And pitch him into hell to sear,
To stew, and fry, in Satan's dish,
For frightening thus, poor harmless fish.
But Neptune, monarch of the main,
With scorn contempt'ous and disdain,
Look'd down on Park's lugubrious rhyme,
And hasten'd o'er the boiling brine;
Unheedful of the fishes' cry—
And left them, with Park's songs, to die!
His foaming horses now he lash'd,
Which, through the boisterous billows, dash'd;
Affrighted at the dismal strain,
Now wildly screeching o'er the main.
The god of ocean's angry wave,
Desirous, only, now, to save
Himself from that unearthly screech,
Flew, swift, with might and main, to reach
The portals of the heavenly world,
Whence Ixion, disgraced, was hurl'd;
And there, to gods assembled, tell
What lately, in the sea,