To The Unknown Contriver Of The Foregoing Rebus On Bow And Den Poem by Samuel Bowden

The Author Bows with half his name
To him from whom the Rebus came:
And to the other moiety-Den
Invites the poet with his pen;
There to regale with wine and sallad,
And for the desert, song and ballad.
No rarities my cave afford,
But moss and peace to bless the board.
Simple is all poetic diet;
Bards can on vegetables riot.
If blest with freedom, peace, and quiet.


Poets and hermits we are told,
In dens and caverns liv'd of old.
There if I live from tumult free,
This cell a palace proves to me.


Sweet peace-that stranger to the great,
Still hovers round my rural seat.
Sweet liberty, about my cell
That mountain nymph delights to dwell.
Then teize me not to court or wed,
She reigns the mistress of my bed:
Wedded to her, with all her charms,
I clasp the Goddess in my arms.


Mean while may you be blest by Phoebus,
Who thus dissect my name in Rebus;
And could with Bow and Den contrive
To keep six letters thus alive;
And with the trammel'd muse in fetters,
Anatomize it in six letters.
Poetic chymist, to sublime
And filtre me in witty rhime.
The tortur'd name you thus divide
Between two words, stands crucify'd;
Now shall my name immortal reign,
As long as Bow-and Den remain.