« VorigeDoorgaan »
Long scrolls of paper solemnly he waves, | Finds no relief, nor heavy eyes repose :
My weary limbs, my fancy, still awake, Such plagues from righteous men !) Behind him Thoughtful of drink, and eager, in a dream, stalks
Tipples imaginary pots of ale ; Another monster, not unlike itself,
In vain ; -- awake I find the settled thirst Sullen of aspect, by the vulgar called
| Still gnawing, and the pleasant phantom curse. A Catchpole, whose polluted hands the gods Thus do I live, from pleasure quite debarred, With force incredible, and magic charms, Vor taste he fruits that the sun's genial rays First have endued : if he his ample palm Mature, john-apple, nor the downy peach, Should haply on ill-fated shoulder lay
Nor walnut in rough-furrowed coat secure, Of debtor, straight his body to the touch
Vor medlar fruit delicious in decay ; Obsequious (as whilom knights were wont) Afflictions great! yet greater still remain. To some enchanted castle is conveyed,
My galligaskins, that have long withstood Where gates impregnable, and coercive chains, The winter's fury and encroaching frosts, In durance strict detain him, till, in form By time subdued, (what will not time subdue !) Of money, Pallas sets the captive free.
An horrid chasm disclose with orifice Beware, ye debtors ! when ye walk, beware, Wide, discontinuous ; at which the winds Be circumspect ; oft with insidious ken
Eurus and Auster and the dreadful force The caitiff eyes your steps aloof, and oft
Of Boreas, that congeals the Cronian waves, Lies perdue in a nook or gloomy cave,
Tumultuous enter with dire chilling blasts, Prompt to enchant some inadvertent wretch Portending agues. Thus a well-fraught ship, With his unhallowed touch. So (poets sing) Long sails secure, or through the Ægean deep, Grimalkin to domestic vermin sworn
Or the Ionian, till cruising near An everlasting foe, with watchful eye
· The Lilybean shore, with hideous crush Lies nightly brooding o'er a chinky gap,
On Scylla or Charybdis (dangerous rocks) Portending her fell claws, to thoughtless mice She strikes rebounding ; whence the shattereri Sure ruin. So her disembowelled web Arachne, in a hall or kitchen, spreads
So fierce a shock unable to withstand, Obvious to vagrant flies : she secret stands Admits the sea. In at the gaping side Within her woven cell ; the humming prey, The crowding waves gush with impetuous rage, Regardless of their fate, rush on the toils Resistless, overwhelming ; horrors seize Inextricable, nor will aught avail
| The mariners ; Death in their eyes appears, Their arts, or arms, or shapes of lovely hue. | They stare, they lave, they pump, they swear, The wasp insidious, and the buzzing drone, ļ they pray : And butterfly proud of expanded wings
(Vain efforts !) still the battering waves rush in, Distinct with gold, entangled in her snares, Implacable, till, deluged by the foam, Useless resistance make ; with eager strides, The ship sinks foundering in the vast abyss. She towering flies to her expected spoils :
JOHN PHILIPS Then with envenomed jaws the vital blood Drinks of reluctant foes, and to her cave Their bulky carcasses triumphant drags. ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF A MAD DOG
So pass my days. But when nocturnal shades This world envelop, and the inclement air
Good people all, of every sort,
Give ear unto my song ;
It cannot hold you long.
Of whom the world might say,
A kind and gentle heart he had,
To confort friends and foes : Meanwhile I labor with eternal drought,
The naked every day he clad And restless wish, and rave ; my parched throat When he put on his clothes.
As he passed through Cold-Bath Fields, he looked 'There
th Fields, he looked There, while the one was shaving, At a solitary cell ;
I Would he the song begin ; And he was well pleased, for it gave him a hint
mnt And the other, when he heard it at breakfast, For improving the prisons of hell.
In ready accord join in. He saw a turnkey tie a thief's hands
So each would help the other, With a cordial tug and jerk ;
Two heads being better than one ; “Nimbly," quoth he, “a man's fingers move
And the phrase and conceit When his heart is in his work."
Would in unison meet,
And so with glee the verse flow free He saw the same turnkey unfettering a man
In ding-dong chime of sing-song rhyme,
Till the whole were merrily done.
And because it was set to the razor,
Not to the lute or harp, At this good news, so great
Therefore it was that the fancy
Should be bright, and the wit be sharp
“As for that said beginner,
| There is no greater sinner.
“ He hath put me in ugly ballads
With libellous pictures for sale ; He hath scoffed at my hoofs and my horns,
And has made very free with my tail.
“ But this Mister Poet shall find
I am not a safe subject for whim ; For I'll set up a school of my own,
And my poets shall set upon him."
As he went along the Strand
Between three in the morning and four, He observed a queer-looking person *
Who staggered from Perry's door.
And he thought that all the world over
In vain for a man you might seek, Who could drink more like a Trojan,
Or talk more like a Greek.
THE DEVIL AT HOME.
FROM “THE DEVIL'S PROGRESS." The Devil sits in his easy-chair, Sipping his sulphur tea, And gazing out, with a pensive air, O'er the broad bitumen sea ; Lulled into sentimental mood By the spirits' far-off wail, That sweetly, o'er the burning flood, Floats on the brimstone gale! The Devil, who can be sad at times, In spite of all his mumery, And grave, - though not so prosy quite As drawn by his friend Montgomery, The Devil to-day has a dreaming air, And his eye is raised, and his throat is bare. His musings are of many things, That - good or ill — befell, Since Adam's sons macadamized The highways into hell : -And the Devil -- whose mirth is never loud – Laughs with a quiet mirth, As he thinks how well his serpent-tricks Have been mimicked upon earth ; Of Eden and of England, soiled And darkened by the foot Of those who preach with adder-tongues, And those who eat the fruit ; Of creeping things, that drag their slime Into God's chosen places, And knowledge leading into crime, Before the angels' faces; Of lands - from Nineveh to Spain That have bowed beneath his sway, And men who did his work, -- from Cain To Viscount Castlereagh !
THOMAS KIBBLE HERVEY.
The Devil then he prophesied
That with wine when smitten,
The story of this walk.
“A pretty mistake,” quoth the Devil ;
* A pretty mistake, I opine! I have put many ill thoughts in his mouth ;
He will never put good ones in mine."
Now the morning air was cold for him,
Who was used to a warm abode ; And yet he did not immediately wish
To set out on his homeward road.
For he had some morning calls to make
Before he went back to hell ; “So,” thought he, “I'll step into a gaming
* house, And that will do as well ;”. But just before he could get to the door
A wonderful chance befell.
THE NOSE AND THE EYES. BETWEEN Nose and Eyes a strange contest arose ;
The spectacles set them, unhappily, wrong; The point in dispute was, as all the world knows,
To whom the said spectacles onght to belong.
For all on a sudden, in a dark place,
And it struck him with such consternation,
So Tongue was the lawyer, and argued the cause, With a great deal of skill, and a wig full of
learning, While chief baron Ear sat to balance the laws,
So famed for his talent in nicely discerning.
“In behalf of the Nose, it will quickly appear (And your lordship,” he said, “ will undoubt
Porson, the Greek scholar.
That the Nome has the spectacles always to wear, 1 O’a' the numerous human dools,
Or worthy friends raked i' the mools,
Sad sight to see ! Then, holding the spectacles up to the court,
The tricks o' knaves or fash o' fools, “Your lordship observes, they are made with
Thou bear'st the gree. a straddle, As wide as the ridge of the Nose is ; in short,
Where'er that place be priests ca' hell, Designed to sit close to it, just like a saddle.
Whence a' the tones o' mis'ry yell, “Again, would your lordship a moment suppose
And ranked plagues their numbers tell, ('T is a case that has happened, and may hap
In dreadfu' raw,
Thou, Toothache, surely bear’st the bell, pen again) That the visage or countenance had not a Nose,
Among them a'; Pray, who would, or who could, wear spectacles
O thou grim mischief-making chiel, then ?
That gars the notes of discord squeal, “On the whole, it appears, and my argument
Till daft mankind aft dance a reel shows,
In gore a shoe-thick !With a reasoning the court will never condemn,
Gie a' the faes o' Scotland's weal
A fowmond's Toothache!
ROBERT BURNS. And the Nose was, as plainly, intended for them."
THE FRIEND OF HUMANITY AND THE Then shifting his side (as a lawyer knows how,
FRIEND OF HUMANITY.
Rough is the road ; your wheel is out of order. So his lordship decreed, with a grave, solemn
| Bleak blows the blast ; --- your hat has got a hole tone,
in 't; Decisive and clear, without one if or but,
So have your breeches ! That whenever the Nose put his spectacles on, By daylight or candlelight, - Eyes should be Weary knife-grinder! little think the proud ones, shut.
| Who in their coaches roll along the turnpike. Road, what hard work 't is crying all day,
Scissors to grind O!!
| Tell me, knife-grinder, how came you to grind An' through my lugs gies mony a twang, Wi' gnawing vengeance !
Did some rich man tyrannically use you? Tearing my nerves wi' bitter pang,
Was it the squire ? or parson of the parish ? Like racking engines.
Or the attorney? When fevers burn, or agne freezes,
Was it the squire for killing of his game ! or Rheumatics gnaw, or cholic squeezes ;
Covetous parson for his tithes distraining? Our neighbor's sympathy may ease us, Or roguish lawyer made you lose your little Wi' pitying moan ;
All in a lawsuit ?
(Have you not read the Rights of Man, by Tom
Paine ?) Adown my beard the slavers trickle ;
Drops of compassion tremble on my eyelids, I throw the wee stools o'er the mickle, Ready to fall as soon as you have told your As round the fire the giglets keckle
A burlesque upon the humanitarian sentiments of Southey in
his younger days, as well as of the Sapphic stanzas in which he Wore in their doup.
sometimes embodied them