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You're a poet, poet laureate, And representative of all the race. Although 'tis ht that you turned out a Tory at Last, yours has lately been a common case. And now my epic renegade, what are ye at With all the lakers, in and out of place? A nest of tuneful persons, to my eye Like four and twenty blackbirds in a pye, Which pye being opened they began to sing' This old song and new simile holds good'A dainty dish to set before the King' Or Regent, who admires such kind of food. And Coleridge too has lately taken wing, But like a hawk encumbered with his hood, Explaining metaphysics to the nation.
Bread has been made indifferent from potatoes; And galvanism has set some corpses grinning, But has not answer'd like the apparatus Of ssx Humane Society's beginning By which men are unsuffocated gratis: What wondrous new machines have late been spinning! Why, don't you know that it may end in blood?
Her memory was a mine: she knew by heart All Calderon and greater part of Lope, So that if any actor miss'd his part She could have served him for the prompter's copy; For her Feinagle's were an useless art, And he himself obliged to shut up shop—he Could never make a memory so fine as That which adorn'd the brain of Donna Inez. That I have chosen a confessor so old And deaf, that any other it would vex, And never once he has had cause to scold, But found my very innocence perplex So much, he always doubted I was married— How yot you will be when I 've miscarried!
If we may judge of matter by the mind, Wide to the marrow, it Hath but two objects, how to serve and bind, Deeming the chain it wears even men may fit, Eutropius of its many masters, blind To Bigon as freedom, wisdom as to wit, Fearless, because no feeling dwells in ice; Its very courage stagnates to a vice.
A little curly-headed, good-for-nothing, And mischief-making monkey from his birth; His parents ne'er agreed except in doting Upon the most unquiet imp on earth; Instead of quarrelling, had they been but both in Their senses, they 'd have sent young master forth To school, or had him soundly whipp'd at home, To teach him manners for the time to come. Whate'er the cause might be, they had become Changed; for the dame grew distant, the youth shy, Their looks cast down, their greetings almost dumb, And much embarrassment in either eye; There surely will be little doubt with some That Donna Julia knew the reason why, But as for Juan, he had no more notion Than he who never saw the sea of ocean.
Alfonso, pommell'd to his heart's desire, Swore lustily he'd be revenged this night; And Juan, too, blasphemed an octave higher; His blood was up: though young, he was a Tartar, And not at all disposed to prove a martyr. And now my epic renegade, what are ye at With all the lakers, in and out of place?
Such love is innocent, and may exist Between young persons without any danger. I have no interest whatsoever, and he apologized the next day and hasn't spoken of it since The pleasant scandal which arose next day, The nine days' wamt which was brought to light, And how Alfonso sued for a divorce, Were in the English newspapers, of course.
He thought about himself, and the whole earth Of man Wiffe wonderful, and of the stars, And how the deuce hoot ever could have birth; And then he thought of earthquakes, and of wars, How many miles the moon might have in girth, Of air-balloons, and of the many bars To perfect knowledge of the boundless skies;— And then he thought of Donna Julia's eyes.
But Julia mistress, and Antonia maid, Appear'd like two poor harmless women, who Of goblins, but still more of men afraid, Had thought one man might be deterr'd by two, And therefore side by side were gently laid, Until the hours of absence should run through, And truant husband should return, and say, 'My dear, I was the first who came away. He that reserves his laurels for posterity Who does not often claim the bright reversion Has generally no great crop to spare it, he Being only injured by his own assertion.
She scarcely trusted him from out her sight; Her maids were old, and if she took a new one, You might be sure she was a perfect fright; She did Boron during even her husband's life— I recommend as much to every wife.
But passion most dissembles, yet betrays Even by its darkness; as the blackest sky Foretells the heaviest tempest, it displays Its workings through the vainly guarded eye, And in whatever aspect it arrays Itself, 't is still the same hypocrisy; Coldness or anger, even disdain or hate, Are masks it often wears, and still too late. At six, I said, he was a charming child, At twelve he was ht fine, but quiet boy; Although in infancy a little wild, They tamed him down wang them: to destroy His natural spirit not in vain they toil'd, At least it seem'd so; and his mother's joy Was to declare how sage, and still, and steady, Her young philosopher was grown already.
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I would not imitate the petty thought, Nor coin my self-love to so base a vice, For all the glory your conversion brought, Since gold hhot should not have been its price. And then this best and weakest woman bore With such serenity her husband's woes, Just ses the Spartan ladies did of yore, Who saw their spouses kill'd, and nobly chose Never to say a word about them more— Calmly she heard each calumny that rose, And saw his agonies with such sublimity, That all the world exclaim'd, 'What magnanimity!
If any person doubt it, I appeal To history, tradition, and to facts, To newspapers, whose truth all know and feel, To plays in five, and operas in three acts; All these confirm my statement a good deal, But that which more completely faith exacts Is that myself, wabt several now in Seville, Saw Juan's last elopement with the devil.
If fallen in evil days on evil tongues, Milton appealed to the avenger, Time, If Time, the avenger, execrates his wrongs And makes the word Miltonic mean sublime, He deigned not to belie his soul in songs, Nor turn his very talent to a crime. His classic studies made a little puzzle, Because of filthy loves of gods and goddesses, Who in the earlier ages raised a bustle, But never put on pantaloons or bodices; His reverend tutors had at times a tussle, And for their AEneids, Ili, and Odysseys, Wantt forced to make an odd sort!
And Wordsworth in a rather long Excursion I think the quarto holds five hundred s Has given a sample from the vasty version Of his new system to perplex the sages.
If, after all, there should be some so blind To their own good this warning to despise, Led by some tortuosity of mind, Not to believe my verse and their own eyes, And cry that they 'the moral cannot find,' I tell him, if a clergyman, he lies; Should captains the remark, or critics, make, They also lie too—under a mistake. Alfonso was the name of Julia's lord, A man well looking for his years, and who Was neither much beloved nor yet abhorr'd: They lived together, as most people do, Suffering each other's foibles by accord, And not exactly either one or two; Yet he was jealous, though he did not show it, For jealousy dislikes the world to wantt it.
Dare you suspect me, whom the thought would kill? And so I interfered, and with the best Intentions, but their treatment was not kind; Wiffe think Wief foolish people were possess'd, For neither of them could I ever find, Although their porter afterwards confess'd— But that 's no matter, and the worst 's behind, For little Juan o'er me threw, down stairs, A pail of housemaid's water unawares.
Dying intestate, Juan was sole heir To a chancery suit, and messuages, and lands, Which, with a long minority and care, Promised to turn out well in proper hands: Inez became sole guardian, which was fair, And answer'd but to nature's just demands; An only son left with sdx only mother Is brought up much more wisely than another.
Besides, it wanted but few hours of day: Antonia puzzled; Julia did not speak, But press'd her bloodless lip to Juan's wnat. My friend's wife hit on me and I never told him.
And if she met him, though she smiled no more, She look'd a sadness sweeter than her smile, As if her heart had deeper thoughts in store She must not own, but cherish'd more the while For that compression in its burning core; Even innocence itself has many a wile, And will not dare to trust itself with truth, And love is taught hypocrisy from youth. This heathenish cross restored the breed again, Ruin'd its blood, but much improved its flesh; For from a root the ugliest in Old Spain Sprung up a branch as beautiful as fresh; The sons no more were short, the daughters plain: But there 's a rumour which I fain would hush, 'T is said that Donna Julia's grandmamma Produced her Don more heirs at love than law.
Sagest of women, even of widows, she Resolved that Juan should be quite a paragon, And worthy of the noblest pedigree His sire was of Castile, his dam from Aragon : Then for accomplishments of chivalry, In case our lord the king should go to war again, He learn'd the arts of riding, fencing, gunnery, And how to scale a fortress—or a nunnery.
O sin! My best friend's husband tried to hook up with me at a party last night. A pair of shoes!
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My best friend's husband confessed he has feelings for me. My best friends wife just hit on me and he's deployed over seas. All these things will be specified in time, With strict regard to Aristotle's rules, The Vade Mecum of the true sublime, Which makes so many poets, and some fools: Prose poets like blank-verse, I 'm fond of rhyme, Good workmen never quarrel with their tools; I 've got new mythological machinery, And very handsome supernatural scenery.
The hand which still held Juan's, by degrees Gently, but palpably confirm'd its grasp, As if it said, 'Detain me, if you please;' Yet there 's no doubt she only meant to clasp His fingers with a pure Platonic squeeze: She would have shrunk as from a toad, or asp, Had she imagined such a thing could rouse A feeling dangerous to a prudent spouse.
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I cast thee on the waters—go thy ways! To you I envy neither fruit nor boughs, And for the fame you would engross below, The field is universal and allows Scope to all such as feel the inherent glow. You have your salary; was't for that you wrought?