The Virginia Gazette

An APOLOGY for PUNNING.

Excuse a pun;
There's fun in
Nay, it may serve a noble use,
And very lucky turns produce:
It parries an imagin'd hit,
And blunts the edge of adverse wit.
For proof, I'll use it to defend,
And cure of spleen, my mart'ling friend.
If whipt into a post, O Sir!
Your fortune will be envied much;
For who, to save their time and cost,
Would not be whipt into a post?
So far from being then persuaded
That thus, if whipt, you are degraded,
You ought of all men to relate,
With tides of joy, your happy fate;
As must appear beyond a doubt,
When we consider you throughout.
Into a rich and splendid post,
When least expected, to be toss't,
An overflowing joy might give
To any wretch who wants to live;
But this would pour into your breast
Of keen delights the choicest, best.
For on life's ever shifting stage:
From infancy to crawling age,
Ty'd to his wig and dangling, you
Vain Glory follow, like his cue,
But this would with your powers combine,
To make you more than mortal shine
For even when the angry frown
Of peevish fortune keeps you down,
You, to defeat the flippant scorner,
Do feats illustrious, in a corner.
Among the tars would fortune raise
Your tow'ring front, how you would blaze!
For smallest incidents can crown
Your bumble station with renown.
If aches your head, by that you cope
In his immortal pain with Pope.
A lameness in your limbs, or wits,
Most patriotick is, like Pitt's.
Turn idiot, 'twill augment your glory;
For Swift a driveller was before ye.
Must such a genius be debar'd
The loftiest sphere? I think it hard.
Yet when with ease this genius draws
The brightest lustre from his flaws,
His chymical imagination
Less needed renders elevation.