Classic Poem

IMPROMPTU .

Dirt and splendor here combine;
All that's filthy, all that's fine:
Works of art, that gods might see,
And look at, wrapt in extacy:
Things that Ideots would not do,
Tasteless, ill-contrived, untrue.
Here the grandest objects strike,
Here, all that judgment must dislike;
Mixture strange of foul and fair,
Of all that's rude and debonair;
Of talents vast and unconfined,
Of multitudes, devoid of mind.
Here genius, and science soar,
Here froth and folly rant and roar.
Palaces here enchant the eye,
Around which closely muddled lie
The filthiest avenues on earth,
Called streets, where misery and mirth,
Astonishing! walk hand in hand,
Ye gods! what an astounding land!
Here's ignorance and foppish rant,
Philosophy and priestly cant;
Here beauty blazes unconfin'd,
Here's ugliness in form and mind;
Here chaste sobriety is queen,
And drunkeness is never seen.
Such, such is P ARIS , wond'rous spot!
A heaven and hell together got;
And long too much of hell 'twill be,
Till Information, general, free,
Lift it from priestcraft and from strife,
To freedom, happiness, and life.