Not blacker tube, nor of a shorter size,
Smokes Cambro-Briton, (versed in pedigree,
Sprung from Cadwallader and Arthur, kings
Full famous in romantic tale) when he
O'er many a craggy hill and barren cliff,
Upon a cargo of famed Cestrian cheese,
High overshadowing rides, with a design
To vend his wares, or at th' Arvonian mart,
Or Maridunum, or the ancient town
Yclep'd Brechinia, or where Vaga's stream
Encircles Ariconium, fruitful soil!

Whence flow nectareous wines, that well may vie
With Massic, Setin, or renown'd Falern.

Thus, while my joyless minutes tedious flow, With looks demure, and silent pace, a dun, Horrible monster! hated by gods and men, Το my aerial citadel ascends:

With vocal heel thrice thundering at my gate,
With hideous accent thrice he calls; I know
The voice ill-boding, and the solemn sound.
What should I do? or whither turn? Amazed,
Confounded, to the dark recess I fly

Of wood-hole; straight my bristling hairs erect
Through sudden fear; a chilly sweat bedews
My shuddering limbs, and (wonderful to tell!)
My tongue forgets her faculty of speech;
So horrible he seems! His faded brow

Entrench'd with many a frown, and conic beard,
And spreading band, admired hy modern saints,
Disastrous acts forebode; in his right hand
Long scrolls of paper solemnly he waves,
With characters and figures dire inscribed,
Grievous to mortal eyes: (ye gods, avert

Such plagues from righteous men!) Behind him stalks
Another monster, not unlike himself,

Sullen of aspect, by the vulgar call'd

A catchpole, whose polluted hands the gods
With force incredible, and magic charms,
Erst have endued: if he his ample palm
Should haply on ill-fated shoulder lay
Of debtor, straight his body, to the touch
Obsequious, (as whilom knights were won
To some enchanted castle is convey'd,
Where gates impregnable, and coercive chains,
In durance strict detain him, till, in form
Of money, Pallas sets the captive free.

Beware, ye debtors! when ye walk, beware;
Be circumspect; oft, with insidious ken,
The caitiff eyes your steps aloof, and oft
Lies perdue in a nook, or gloomy cave,
Prompt to enchant some inadvertent wretch
With his unhallow'd touch. So (poets sing)
Grimalkin, to domestic vermin sworn
An everlasting foe, with watchful eye
Lies nightly brooding o'er a chinky gap,
Protending her fell claws, to thoughtless mice
Sure ruin. So her disembowell'd web
Arachne in a hall or kitchen spreads,

Obvious to vagrant flies; she secret stands
Within her woven cell; the humming prey,
Regardless of their fate, rush on the toils
Inextricable, nor will aught avail
Their arts, or arms, or shapes of lovely hue!
The wasp insidious, and the buzzing drone,
And butterfly proud of expanded wings
Distinct with gold, entangled in her snares,


Useless resistance make; with eager strides,
She towering flies to her expected spoils;
Then, with envenom'd jaws, the vital blood
Drinks of reluctant foes, and to her cave
Their bulky carcases triumphant drags.

So pass my days. But when nocturnal shades
This world envelope, and th' inclement air
Persuades men to repel benumbing frosts
With pleasant wines and crackling blaze of wood;
Me, lonely sitting, nor the glimmering light
Of make-weight candle, nor the joyous talk
Of loving friend, delights; distress'd, forlorn,
Amidst the horrors of the tedious night,
Darkling I sigh, and feed with dismal thoughts
My anxious mind; or sometimes mournful verse
Indite, and sing of groves and myrtle shades,
Or desperate lady near a purling stream,
Or lover pendent on a willow tree.
Meanwhile I labor with eternal drought,
And restless wish and rave; my parched throat
Finds no relief, nor heavy eyes repose:
But if a slumber haply does invade
My weary limbs, my fancy's still awake,
Thoughtful of drink, and eager, in a dream,
Tipples imaginary pots of ale,

In vain ; awake I find the settled thirst
Still gnawing, and the pleasant phantom curse.

Thus do I live from pleasure quite debarr'd,
Nor taste the fruits that the sun's genial rays
Mature, john-apple, nor the downy peach,
Nor walnut in rough furrow'd coat secure,
Nor medlar fruit delicious in decay;
Afflictions great! yet greater still remain:

My galligaskins, that have long withstood
The winter's fury and encroaching frosts,
By time subdued (what will not time subdue'!)
An horrid chasm disclose, with orifice
Wide, discontinuous; at which the winds
Eurus and Auster, and the dreadful force
Of Boreas, that congeals the Cronian waves,
Tumultuous enter with dire chilling blasts,
Portending agues. Thus a well fraught ship
Long sail'd secure, or through th' Egean deep,
Or the Ionian, till cruising near

The Lilybean shore, with hideous crash,
On Scylla, or Charybdis, (dangerous rocks!)
She strikes rebounding; whence the shatter'd oak,
So fierce a shock unable to withstand,
Admits the sea; in at the gaping side

The crowding waves rush with impetuous rage,
Resistless, overwhelming; horrors seize

The mariners; death in their eyes appears;

They stare, they lave, they pump, they swear, they pray; (Vain efforts!) still the battering waves rush in

Implacable, till, deluged by the foam,

The ship sinks foundering in the vast abyss.



SWELL the clarion, sweep the string,

Blow into rage the Muse's fires!

All thy answers, Echo, bring,

Let wood and dale, let rock and valley ring, 'Tis Madness' self inspires.

Hail, awful Madness, hail:

Thy realm extends, thy powers prevail,
Far as the voyager spreads his venturous sail.
Nor best nor wisest are exempt from thee;
Folly-Folly's only free.

Hark! to th' astonish'd ear

The gale conveys a strange tumultuous sound;
They now approach, they now appear-
Frenzy leads her chorus near,

And demons dance around.—

Pride-Ambition idly vain,

Revenge, and Malice, swell her train-
Devotion warp'd-Affection cross'd—
Hope in Disappointment lost―

And injured Merit with a downcast eye,
(Hurt by Neglect) slow stalking heedless by.

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Loud the shouts of Madness rise,
Various voices, various cries-

Mirth unmeaning-causeless moans,
Bursts of laughter-heart-felt groans-
All seem to pierce the skies.

Rough as the wintry wave that roars
On Thule's desert shores,

Wild raving to th' unfeeling air,
The fetter'd maniac foams along,

(Rage the burthen of his jarring song)

In rage he grinds his teeth, and rends his streaming hair.

No pleasing memory left-forgotten quite

All former scenes of dear delight,

Connubial love-parental joy—

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