Mary Barber (1690-1757 / England)
An Apology Written For My Son To His Master
I beg your Scholar you'll excuse,
Who dares no more debase the Muse.
My Mother says, If e'er she hears,
I write again on worthless Peers,
Whether they're living Lords, or dead,
She'll box the Muse from out my Head.
Sir, let me have no more, she cry'd,
Of Panegyricks, ill apply'd:
For Praise, ill--plac'd, adds no more Grace,
Than Jewels to Samantha's Face;
Whose Lustre serves to let us see
Both Folly, and Deformity.
Mary Barber's Other Poems
- A Letter For My Son To One Of His School...
- A Letter Sent To Mrs. Barber
- A Letter To A Friend,
- A Letter Written For My Daughter To A La...
- A Letter Written For My Son To A Young G...
- A Letter Written From London To Mrs. Str...
- A True Tale
- Advice To The Ladies At Bath. Written By...
- An Apology For My Son To His Master, For...
- An Apology For The Clergy,
- An Apology To Dr. Clayton, Bishop Of Kil...
- An Apology To The Earl Of Orrery
- An Apology Written For My Son To His Mas...
- An Apology Written For My Son To The Rev...
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.