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TO THE DIRECTORS OF THE ACADEMY
OF ARTS.
llustrious autocrats of taste!
Inspectors of the wonders traced
By pencil, brush, or chisel!
Accept a nameless poet’s lay,
Who longs to twine a sprig of bay
Around his penny whistle.
Ye learned and enlightened few
Who keep the portal of virtu,
I pray you now unlock it,
And grant a peep, for all my pains,
Within your oil-bedaubed domains,
The Dome where now the poor in brains
Succeed the poor in pocket.
All honored be the rich repast
At which the sage decree was past
Of pauper health so tender,
Which sent the beggars to Bellevue,
And left the classic fame to you
And Scudder’s Witch of Endor.
