PERMIT a dull muse, my dear Charlotte, to say,
The season approaches when Brook Green looks gay;
Or in other terms, my dear friend, to declare,
That on Monday the first, commenceth the fair;
And though bustle and noise cannot always amuse,
Yet to see others happy , you will not refuse ;
For I know that your heart by sympathy shares
The joys of your friends, as well as their cares!
“But pray, what amusement does Brook Green display?”
Methinks, my dear Charlotte, I now hear you say,
There is Gingle exhibiting musical glasses,
Whilst the tone he produceth, Apollo surpasses!
Then his dog , such superior instinct discovers,
As to tell each young lady her number of lovers;
And both master and dog alternate display
A thousand droll tricks, which pass time away.
Two dramatic companies likewise appear,
In one Rolla thunders, –in the other a Lear ,
Who raves at his daughters with such potent rage,
That his voice is sufficient to shake the poor stage.
Then there’s Saunderson’s troop, with riders so bold,
As e’en to astonish all those who behold!
Three horses they stride, and fly round a ring,
Like the God at whose heels there is painted a wing.
There are wild beasts , and giants, and likewise a child,
Whose person is large –but whose manners are mild;
With whom poor Lady Morgan appears on a stage,
That comparison may–more attention engage.
There are booths, where all trinkets may easy be bought,
From a three-guinea writing-desk, down to a groat.
In short, my dear Charlotte, at Brook Green you’ll find,
Relief for the eye, if not for the mind;
For a more motley groupe ne’er assembled together,
And last year they were favour’d with beautiful weather:
But weather affects not the feeling of friends,
For on internal sources their pleasure depends;
And should Boreas blow with his blusterous main,
Or the clouds all distil in torrents of rain;
Should the elements war, or the deep thunder roll,
They would make no impression on my serene soul:
For if Charlotte was with me, the season would seem
Adorn’d with the beauty of spring’s verdant green;
And come when she will, to me ’twill be fair,
For her presence disperses both sorrow and care.
(Mary Hopkins Pilkington)
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Based on Topics: God Poems, Mind Poems, Soul Poems, War & Peace Poems, Joy & Excitement Poems, Fairness Poems, Friendship Poems, Beauty Poems, Spring Poems, Anger Poems, Pleasure PoemsBased on Keywords: groupe, exhibiting, produceth, blusterous, writing-desk, gingle