Fools-Hall

OLD Homer nodded long ago,
And modern Bards oft' sleep we know;
They doze to dream, and dream to write,
'Twas thus with me the other night.
Sleeping by all somnif'rous rules,
Methought 'twas in the Hall of Fools;
More properly the place to call,
The Learned say, it was Fools-Hall.

There Billingsgate, with front of brass,
And Faction, rode on braying Ass;
While scurril' Banter leer'd along,
With face buffoon, and loll'd-out tongue.
Riot there, with mouth stretch'd wide,
On a Drunkard sat astride;
Spangled Lewdness op'd the Ball,
And Nonsense echo'd round Fools-Hall.

Credulity, the Dupe of Lyes,
Stupidity in Thought's disguise;
Dullness came in Hood and Cowl,
Solemn as the broad-fac'd Owl.
Quirk and Quaintness hand in hand,
In Lawyer's gown, and Pleader's band.
On tiptoe Pride o'erlook'd them all,—
While Scandal flew about Fools-Hall.

Base Scribblers arm'd with white and black,
To shine or soil, to heal or hack,
With stone-blind Ignorance stood next,
And Pedants tearing Shakespeare's text.
There Prejudice the day denies,
With hands held up before his eyes;
Pert Dissipation welcom'd all,
She kept it up within Fools-Hall.

With Vanity blind Zeal was pair'd;
Hypocrisy their profits shar'd;
Fraud, Pimp-like, Superstition led,
But hoodwink'd, to Imposture's bed.
Miss Affectation made the Rout,
Debauch the sick'ning Feast sat out;
While Doctors waited Symptom's call,
Disease's vapours fill'd Fools-Hall.

The stupid Heirs of much-muck'd Land,
With wheezing Gluttons throng'd the Strand;
Great sport they hop'd, they long'd to see,
Heedless what victim 'twas to be.
But wealthy Dunces joke the best
On Merit, when 'tis most distress'd;
While Sots, while Coxcombs great and small,
Paraded, grinning, round Fools-Hall.

Plain Truth appear'd, but at the sight
They shriek'd, they cou'd not bear the fright;
The CRY confin'd him in the Stocks,
And Virtue prov'd not Orthodox.
Honour the parish pass'd away,
And Wit was gagg'd for Folly's play;
Deserted Beauty, mock'd by all,
The Beadle's Whip drove from Fools-Hall.

O'erwhelm'd with that I saw, I wept,
And, happily, no longer slept;
Malice, methought, had spy'd my tears,
Exposing me to Party's Sneers,
Who hiss'd, and shov'd me thro' the throng;
I'woke, as I was dragg'd along,—
Here's Women, Wine, and Health to all,
Who scorn the crouds which fill Fools-Hall.