TO
A
LADY
WHO
SENT
THE
AUTHOR
SOME
PAPER
WITH
A
READING
OF
SILLAR'S
POEMS
.
DEAR
madam
,
with
joy
I
read
over
your
letter
;
Your
kindness
still
tends
to
confirm
me
your
debtor
;
But
can't
think
of
payment
,
the
sum
is
so
large
,
Tho'
farthings
for
guineas
could
buy
my
discharge
.
But
,
madam
,
the
Muses
are
fled
far
away
,
They
deem
it
disgrace
with
a
milkmaid
to
stay
.
Let
them
go
if
they
will
,
I
would
scorn
to
pursue
,
And
can
,
without
sighing
,
subscribe
an
adieu
.
Their
trifling
mock
visits
,
to
many
so
dear
,
Is
the
only
disaster
on
earth
I
now
fear
.
Sure
Sillar
much
better
had
banish'd
them
thence
,
Than
wrote
in
despite
of
good
manners
and
sense
:
With
two
or
three
more
,
whose
pretentions
to
fame
Are
slight
as
the
bubble
that
bursts
on
the
stream
.
And
lest
with
such
dunces
as
these
I
be
number'd
,
The
task
I
will
drop
,
nor
with
verse
be
incumber'd
;
Tho'
pen
,
ink
and
paper
,
are
by
me
in
store
,
O
madam
excuse
,
for
I
ne'er
shall
write
more
.