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| Attend! Ye sisters of celestial birth! |
| Forsake your starry homes and post to earth |
| With laughter under each expanded Wing; |
| Of harmony and wit untwine the string. |
| Be near while I, than Hercules more strong, |
| Unloose the fettered hands of drooping song; |
| Retread the tract that Homer trod before |
| And spread the muses praise from shore to shore. |
| For, lo! the phrenzy of my soul constrains |
| On Fancy's sparkling neck to throw the reins |
| In numbers to imbalm a lofty theme |
| And pour, of various verse, the copious stream, |
| And (to cut short my tale) in Cantos two, |
| To sound the triumphs of heroic LOO. |
| Ye powers of heroic song descend |
| Each in his car of light, effectual aid to lend! |
| Your poet shall uplift the voice of praise |
| To time-destroying LOO, in time-surviving lays |
| For oft I stand amidst the sportive crew |
| That give to Loo their days, their nights to Loo |
| Oft, in my dreams, I watch the dealers hand |
| And throw down in despair, or bravely Stand
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| I oft, approaching, view the nect'rous treat |
| And gather consolation from defeat. |
| At long depending rows, attentive gape, |
| Of various dyes and equi-sided shape, |
| Behold, with joy depicted in my face |
| Of trumps the royal pair, or knave or Ace; |
| At Sight of trumpless hand, proclaim a truce |
| Or scoul, with rolling eyes, on worthless duce
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| At ace succeeding ace astonished gaze |
| Or of collected spoils a trophy raise. |
| Or see around, the mighty ruin strewed |
| And, wait, in speechless terror to be looed |
| Lo! to my sight the polished board appears |
| That, decently disposed, has borne for years, |
| Unstunned, the rage of combat, and between |
| Yet, stainless has escaped the topers spleen, |
| Has seen the labour'ing mind elude distress |
| At care-dispelling, thought-convoking chess |
| Has seen the foe his scattered forces bring |
| And meditate the fall of helpless king. |
| With high exploits to decorate the scene |
| Prepare, and lead in chains the captive queen, |
| (Her fall her friends lament, her foes deride |
| In striving to defend her lord she died) |
| Or spite of martial strength, in cautious spite, |
| Intangles in his net the active Knight, |
| Ah! naught, by numbers and by skill assailed, |
| The mitre'd brow or ample stride availed |
| To rescue from his fate the cloistered sage |
| Who dared in warlike combats to engage. |
| Or see the rook, from his asylum, drawn |
| To fight and fade before a powerless pawn. |
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| The polished board has viewed a different scene |
| A witness to amusing draughts has been |
| Has laughed to see dexterity enthrall |
| Brute force Thrones sink and
‸ crowns topple legions fall |
| Before him and the boaster cease to sound |
| His triumphs prosprate on th'ensanguined ground. |
| Has seen gigantic war whole armies crush |
| And nations to the dread encounter rush, |
| Seen Subjects “wade through slaughter to a throne" |
| And vanquish hosts unaided and alone. |
| Here harmless whist has often found a field |
| Here Ombre and Quadrille their raptures yield |
| And meek Piquet to humble minds so dear |
| Has often exercised dominion here. |
| Here in the long illusive mazy dance |
| The voice is often heard of hood-winked chance |
| And many hope-seduced or urged by care, |
| To pitts of death she leads, and black despair. |
| And hear
‸ here each virtues foe, the nurse of vice, |
| Are heard the sounds of beggar-making dice. |
| And here sweet indolence her joys shall strew |
| And hasten to the fights of pleasing loo
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