Origin of Flattery. Charlotte Smith (née Turner) Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. N22357 Smith, Charlotte Turner, 1749-1806. Elegiac sonnets, and other poems. By Charlotte Smith. The first Worcester edition, from the sixth London edition, with additions. Printed at Worcester [Mass.] by Isaiah Thomas, sold by him in Worcester, and by said Thomas and Andrews in Boston 1795 pp. 90-96. xix,[2],22-126,[2]p.,[5] leaves of plates: ill.; 15 cm. (12mo)

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Origin of Flattery .

This little poem was written almost extempore on occasion of a conversation where many pleasant things were said on the subject of flattery ; and some French gentlemen who were of the party , inquired for a synonime in English to the French word fleurette . The poem was inserted in the two first editions , and having been asked for by very respectable subscribers to the present , it is reprinted . The sonnets have been thought too gloomy , and the author has been advised to insert some of a more cheerful cast . This poem may by others be thought too gay , and is indeed so little in unison with the present sentiments and feelings of its author , that it had been wholly omitted but for the respectable approbation of those to whose judgment she owed implicit deference .

WHEN Jove , in anger to the sons of earth , Bid artful Vulcan give Pandora birth , And sent the fatal gift , which spread below O'er all the wretched race , contagious woe , Unhappy man , by Vice and Folly tost , Found in the storms of life his quiet lost , While Envy , Avarice and Ambition , hurl'd Discord and Death around the warring world ; Then the blest peasant left his fields and fold , And barter'd love and peace for pow'r and gold ; Left his calm cottage and his native plain , In search of wealth to tempt the faithless main ; Or , braving danger , in the battle stood , And bath'd his savage hands in human blood : No longer then , his woodland walks among , The shepherd lad his genuine passion sung , Or sought at early morn his soul's delight , Or grav'd her name upon the bark at night ; To deck her flowing hair no more he wove The simple wreath , or with ambitious love Bound his own brow with myrtle or with bay , But broke his pipe , and threw his crook away . The nymphs forsaken , other pleasures sought ; Then first for gold their venal hearts were bought , And Nature's blush to sickly Art gave place , And Affectation seiz'd the seat of Grace : No more Simplicity , by Sense refin'd , Or gen'rous Sentiment , possess'd the mind ; No more they felt each other's joy and woe , And Cupid fled , and hid his useless bow . But with deep grief propitious Venus pin'd , To see the ills which threaten'd womankind ; Ills , that she knew her empire would disarm , And rob her subjects of their sweetest charm ; Good humour's potent influence destroy , And change for low'ring frowns , the smile of joy . Then deeply sighing at the mournful view , She try'd at length what heavenly Art could do To bring back Pleasure to her pensive train , And vindicate the glories of her reign . A thousand little loves attend the task , And bear from Mars's head his radiant casque , The fair enchantress on its silver bound , Wreath'd with soft spells her magic cestus round . Then shaking from her hair ambrosial dew , Infus'd fair Hope , and Expectation new , And stifled wishes , and persuasive sighs , And fond belief , and ' eloquence of eyes , ' And fault'ring accents , which explain so well What studied speeches vainly try to tell , And more pathetic silence , which imparts Infectious tenderness to feeling hearts , Soft tones of pity ; fascinating smiles ; And Maia's son assisted her with wiles , And brought gay dreams , fantastic visions brought , And wav'd his wand o'er the seducing draught . Then Zephyr came : To him the goddess cry'd , ' Go fetch from Flora all her flow'ry pride ' To fill my charm , each scented bud that blows , ' And bind my myrtles with her thornless rose ; ' Then speed thy flight to Gallia's smiling plain , ' Where rolls the Loire , the Garonne and the Seine ; ' Dip in their waters thy celestial wing , ' And the soft dew to fill my chalice bring ; ' But chiefly tell thy Flora , that to me ' She send a bouquet of her fleurs de lys ; ' That poignant spirit will complete my spell . ' — 'Tis done ! the lovely sorc'ress says 'tis well . And now Apollo lends a ray of fire , The caldron bubbles , and the flames aspire ; The watchful Graces round the circle dance , With arms entwin'd , to mark the work's advance ; And with full quiver sportive Cupid came , Temp'ring his fav'rite arrows in the flame . Then Venus speaks , the wav'ring flames retire , And Zephyr's breath extinguishes the fire . At length the goddess in the helmet's round A sweet and subtile spirit duly found , More soft than oil , than ether more refin'd , Of pow'r to cure the woes of womankind , And call'd it Flatt'ry : — balm of female life , It charms alike the widow , maid and wife ; Clears the sad brow of virgins in despair , And smooths the cruel traces left by Care ; Bids palsy'd Age with youthful spirit glow , And hangs May's garlands on December's snow . Delicious essence ! howsoe'er apply'd , By what rude nature is thy charm deny'd ? Some form seducing still thy whisper wears , Stern Wisdom turns to thee her willing ears , And Prudery listens , and forgets her fears . The rustic nymph , whom rigid aunts restrain , Condemn'd to dress , and practise airs in vain , At thy first summons finds her bosom swell , And bids her crabbed governantes farewell ; While , fir'd by thee with spirit not her own , She grows a toast , and rises into ton . The faded beauty who with secret pain , Sees younger charms usurp her envied reign , By thee assisted , can with smiles behold The record where her conquests are enroll'd ; And dwelling yet on scenes by mem'ry nurs'd , When George the second reign'd , or George the first ; She sees the shades of ancient beaux arise , Who swear her eyes exceeded modern eyes , When poets sung for her and lovers bled , And giddy Fashion follow'd as she led . Departed modes appear in long array , The flow'rs and flounces of her happier day ; Again her locks the decent fillets bind , The waving lappet flutters in the wind , And then comparing with a proud disdain The more fantastic tastes that now obtain , She deems ungraceful , trifling and absurd , The gayer world that moves round George the third . Nor thy soft influence will the train refuse , Who court in distant shades the modest Muse , Tho' in a form more pure and more refin'd , Thy soothing spirit meets the letter'd mind ; Not Death itself thine empire can destroy ; Tow'rds thee , e'en then , we turn the languid eye ; Still trust in thee to bid our mem'ry bloom , And scatter roses round the silent tomb .