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If any person should presume to assert
And would not brook at all this sort of thing
Then, that they'll read it o'er again, and say
Have squander'd my whole summer while If, after all, there shonld be some so blind
'twas May, To their own good this warning to despise, And feel no more the spirit to retort; I Led by some tortuosity of mind,
Have spent my life, both interest and Not to believe my verse and their own eyes,
principal, And cry that they “the moral cannot And decm not, what I deem'd, my soul find,"
invincible. I tell him, if a clergyman, he lies-Should captains the remark or critics make, They also lie too-under a mistake. No more - no more-Oh! never more on me
The freshness of the heart can fall like dew,
Which out of all the lovely things we sec The public approbation I expect,
Extracts emotions beautiful and new, And beg they'll take my word about the Hived in our bosoms like the bag o’the bee:
Thinkst thou the honey with those objects Which I with their amusement will connect (So children cutting teeth receive a coral); Alas! 'twas not in thein, but in thy power Meantime, they'll doubtless please to re- To double even the sweetness of a flower.
collect My epical pretensions to the laurel : For fear some prudish readers should grow No more–no more-Oh! never more, my skittish,
heart, I've bribed my grandmother's review - the Canst thou be my sole world, my universe!
Once all in all, but now a thing apart,
The illusion's gone for ever, and thou art I sent it in a letter to the editor,
Insensible, I trust, but none the worse ; Who thank'd me duly by return of post- And in thy stead I've got a deal of judgment, I'm for a handsome article his creditor; Though heaven knows how it ever found Yet if my gentle Muse he please to roast,
The charms of maid, wife, and still less of All I can say is -- that he had the money.
widow, Can make the fool of, which they made
or monthly, or three-montly; I So, for a good old gentlemanly vice,
Ambition was my idol, which was broken Treat a dissenting author very martyrly. Before the shrines of Sorrow and of Pleasure;
And the two last have left me many a token
O'er which reflection may be made at leisure: "Non ego hoc ferrem calida juventa Now, like Friar Bacon's brazen head, I've Consule Planco," Horace said, and so
spoken, Say I, by which quotation there is meant a Time is, Time was, Time's past," a chymic Hint that some six or seven good years ago
treasure (Long ere I dreamt of dating from the Is glittering youth, which I have spent Brenta)
betimes I was most ready to return a blow, My heart in passion and my head on rhymes.
What is the end of fame? 'tis but to fill
On ye! who teach the ingenuous youth of Whose summit, like all hills, is lost in
Holland, France, England, Germany, or For this men write, speak, preach, and
Spain, heroes kill,
I And bards burn what they call their “mid-It mends their morals; never mind the pain:
pray ye flog them upon all occasions, night-taper,"
The best of mothers and of educations, To have, when the original is dust,
In Juan's case, were but employed in vain, A name, a wretched picture, and worse bust. Since in a way, that's rather of the oddest, he
Became divested of his native modesty. What are the hopes of man? old Egypt's King, Cheops, erected the first pyramid
Had he but been placed at a public school, And largest, thinking it was just the thing In the third form, or even in the fourth, To keep his memory whole, and mummy hid; His daily task had kept his fancy cool, But somebody or other, rummaging,
At least had he been nurtured in the north; Burglariously broke his coffin's lid: Let not a monument give you or me hopes, But then exceptions always prove its worth
Spain may prove an exception to the rule, Since not a pinch of dust remains of Cheops. A lad of sixteen causing a divorce
Puzzled his tutors very much, of course. But I, being fond of true philosophy, Say very often to myself, “Alas!
I can't say that it puzzles me at all, All things that have been born were born if all things be consider'd: first, there was
to die, And flesh (which Death mows down to hay) A--never mind; his tutor, an old ass ;
His lady-mother, mathematical,
is grass; You've pass'd your youth not so unplea-Orelse the thing had hardly come to pass);
A pretty woman-(that's quite natural, santly,
A husband rather old, not much in unity And if you had it o'er again – 'twould pass — With his young wife-a time, and opporSo thank your stars that matters are no worse,
tunity. And read your Bible, sir, and mind your
And as the veering wind shifts, shift our And so your humble servant, and good bye! We meet again, if we should understand The king commands us, and the doctor Each other; and, if not, I shall not try
quacks us, Your patience further than by this short The priest instructs, and so our life exhales,
A little breath, love, wine, ambition, fame, Twere well if others follow'd my example. Fighting, devotion, dust-perhaps a name.
“Go, little book, from this
solitude ! I said, that Juan had been sent to CadizI cast thee on the waters, go thy ways! A pretty town, I recollect it wellAnd if, as I believe, thy vein be good, 'Tis there the mart of the colonial trade is The world will find thee after many days.” (Or was, before Peru learn'd to rebel), When Southey 's read, and Wordsworth Ànd such sweet girls—I mean such graceful understood,
ladies, I can't help putting in my claim to praise- Their very walk would make your bosom The four first rhymes are Southey's, every
swell, line :
I can't describe it, though so much it strike, For God's sake, reader! take them not for Nor liken it-I never saw the like:
Their veil and petticoat-Alas! to dwell Flies in one's face, and makes it weatherUpon such things would very near absorb
tough: A canto- then their feet and ancles!-well, And there he stood to take, and take again, Thank heaven I've got no metaphor quite His first-perhaps his last--farewell of ready
Spain. (And so, my sober Muse-come let's be
I can't but say it is an awkward sight
To see one's native land receding through Chaste Muse !-well, if you must, you The growing waters-it unmans one quite;
'must)-the veil Especially when life is rather new: Thrown back a inoment with the glancing I recollect Great-Britain's coast looks white,
But almost every other country's blue, While the o'erpowering eye, that turns you When,gazing on them,mystified by distance,
We enter on our nautical existence.
The wind sung, cordage strain’d, and sailA dress through which the eyes give such
ors swore, a volley,
And the ship creak'd, the town became a speck, Excepting the Venetian Fazzioli.
From which away so fair and fast they bore.-
Against sea-sickness; try it, sir, before But to our tale : the Donna Inez sent You sneer, and I assure you this is true, Her son to Cadiz only to embark,
For I have found it answer --80 may you. To stay there had not answer'd her intent, But why?_we leave the reader in the dark'Twas for a voyage that the young man Don Juan stood, and, gazing from the stern,
was meant, Beheld his native Spain receding far: As if a Spanish ship were Noah's ark, First partings form a lesson hard to learn, To wean him from the wickedness of earth, Even nations feel this when they go to war; And send him like a dove of promise forth. There is a sort of unexpress'd concern,
A kind of shock that sets one's heart ajar:
At leaving even the most unpleasant people Don Juan bade his valet pack his things And places, one keeps looking at the steeple. According to direction, then received A lecture and some money: for four springs He was to travel ; and, though Inez grieved But Juan had got many things to leave(As every kind of parting has its stings), His mother, and a mistress, and no wife, She hoped he would improve-perhaps so that he had much better cause to gricve
Than many persons more advanced in life; A letter, too, she gave (he never read it) And, if we now and then a sigh must heave Of good advice-and two or three of credit. At quitting even those we quit in strife,
No doubt we weep for those the heart
endears In the mean time, to pass her hours away, That is, till deeper griefs congeal our tears. Brave Inez now set up a Sunday-school For paughty children, who would rather
So Juan wept, as wept the captive Jews (Like truant rogues) the devil or the fool; By Babel's water, still remembering Sion : Infants of three years old were taught that I'd weep, but mine is not a weeping Muse,
And such light griefs are not a thing to Dances were whipp'd or set upon a stool : The great success of Juan's education Young men should travel, if but to amuse Spurr'd her to teach another generation. Themselves; and the next time their ser
vants tie on
Behind their carriages their new portmanJuan embark'd—the ship got under way,
teau, The wind was fair, the water passing Perhaps it may be lined with this my canto.
rough; A devil of a sea rolls in that bay, As I, who've cross'd it oft; know well And Juan wept, and much he sigh’d, and enough;
thought, And, standing upon deck, the dashing spray. While his salt tears dropp'd into the salt sea,
“Sweets to the sweet ;" (I like so much to But worst of all is nausea, or a pain
About the lower region of the bowels; You must excuse this extract, 'tis where she, Love, who heroically breathes a vein, The Queen of Denmark, for Ophelia brought Shrinks from the application of hot towels, Flowers to the grave) and sobbing often, he And purgatives are dangerous to his reign, Reflected on his present situation,
Sea-sickness death: his love was perfect, And seriously resolved on reformation.
how else Could Juan's passion, while the billows roar,
Resist his stomach, ne'er at sea before ? “Farewell, my Spain! a long farewell!"
he cried, "Perhaps I may revisit thee no more, The ship, called the most holy “Trinidada," But die, as many an exiled heart hath died, Was steering duly for the port Leghorn; Of its own thirst to see again thy shore: For there the Spanish family Moncada Farewell, whereGuadalquivir's waters glide! Were settled long ere Juan's sire was born: Farewell, my mother! and, since all is o'er, They were relations, and for them he had a Farewell, too, dearest Julia!”- (here he Letter of introduction, which the morn
Of his departure had been sent him by Her letter out again, and read it through.) His Spanish friends for those in Italy.
“And oh! if e'er I should forget, I swear His suite consisted of three servants and
pillow, Or think of any thing, excepting thee; And rocking in his hammock,long'd for land, A mind diseased no remedy can physic”- His headache being increased by every (Here the ship gave a lurch, and he grew
billow; sea-sick.) And the waves oozing through the port-hole
His birth a little damp, and him afraid. “Sooner shall beaven kiss earth-(here he
fell sicker) Oh, Julia! what is every other woe?- | 'Twas not without some reason, for the wind (For God's sake, let me have a glass of Increased at night, until it blew a gale;
And though 'twas not much to a naval mind, Pedro! Battista! help me down below.) Some landsmen would have look'd a little Julia, my love! (you rascal, Pedro,
pale, quicker) For sailors are, in fact, a different kind : Oh, Julia!-(this cursed vessel pitches so)–At sunset they began to take in sail, Beloved Julia! hear me still beseeching”- For the sky showed it would come on to (Here he grew inarticulate with retching.)
And carry away, perhaps, a mast or so. He felt that chilling heaviness of heart, Or rather stomach, which, alas! attends, At one o'clock, the wind with sudden shift Beyond the best apothecary's art,
Threw the ship right into the trough of The loss of love, the treachery of friends, Or death of those we doat on, when a part which struck her aft, and made an awkward Of us dies with them, as each fond liope ends:
rift, No doubt he would have been much more Started the stern-post, also shatter'd the
Whole of her stern-frame, and ere she But the sea acted as a strong emetic.
could lift Herself from out her present jeopardy
The rudder tore away: 'twas time to sound Love's a capricious power; I've known it The pumps, and there were four feet water hold
found. Out through a fever caused by its own heat, But be much pazzled by a congh and cold, And find a quinsy very hard to treat ; One gang of people instantly was put Against all noble maladies he's bold, Upon the pumps, and the remainder set But vulgar illnesses don't like to meet, To get up part of the cargo, and what not, Nor that a sneeze should interrupt his sigh, But they could not come at the leak as yet; Nor inflammations redden his blind eye. | At last they did get at it really, but
Still their salvation was an even bet: That passengers would find it much amiss The water rush'd through in a way quite To lose their lives, as well as spoil their diet;
puzzling, That even the able seaman, deeming his While they thrust sheets, shirts, jackets, Days nearly o'er, might be disposed to riot,
bales of muslin, As upon such occasion tars will ask
have gone down, There's nought, no doubt, so much the Despite of all their efforts and expedients,
spirit calms But for the pumps: I'm glad to make them As rum and true religion; thus it was,
Some plunder'd, some drank spirits, some To all the brother-tars who may have need
sung psalms, hence,
The high wind made the treble, and as bass For fifty tons of water were upthrown The hoarse harsh waves kept time; fright By them per hour, and they had all been
cured the qualms undone
Of all the luckless landsmen's sea-sick maws: But for the maker, Mr. Mann, of London. Strange sounds of wailing, blasphemy,
Clamour'd in chorus to the roaring ocean. As day advanced the weather seem'd to
abate, And then the leak they reckon'd to reduce, Perhaps more mischief had been done, but for And keep the ship afloat, though three Our Juan, who, with sense beyond his years,
Got to the spirit-room, and stood before kept two hand- and one chain-pump still it with a pair of pistols; and their fears,
As if Death were more dreadful by his door The wind blew fresh again: as it grew late Of fire than water, spite of oaths and tears, A squall came on, and, while soine guns Kept still aloof the crew, who, ere they sunk,
broke loose, Thought it would be becoming to die drunk. A gust-which all descriptive power trans
cendsLaid with one blast the ship on her beam-"Give us more grog," they cried, "for it ends.
will be All one an hour hence.” Juan answer'd, “No!
'Tis true that death awaits both you and me, There she lay, motionless, and seem'd upset; But let us die like men, not sink below The water left the hold,and wash'd the decks, Like brutes :”-and thus his dangerous post And made a scene men do not soon forget;
kept he, For they remember battles, fires, and wrecks, And none liked to anticipate the blow; Or any other thing that brings regret, And even Pedrillo, his most reverend tutor, Or breaks their hopes, or hearts, or heads, Was for some rum a disappointed suitor.
or necks: Thus drownings are much talk'd of by the
The good old gentleman was quite aghast, And swimmers who may chance to be sur- And made a loud and pious lamentation;
Repented all his sins, and made a last
Nothing should tempt him more (this peril Immediately the masts were cut away,
past) Both main and mizen; first the mizen went, To quit his academic occupation, The main-mast follow'd: but the ship still In cloisters of the classic Salamanca,
To follow Juan's wake like Sancho Panca. Like a mere log, and baffled our intent. Foremast and bowsprit were cut down, and
But now there came a flash of hope once Eased her at last (although we never meant
more; To part with alì till every hope was Day broke, and the wind Inll’d: the masts blighted),
were gone, And then with violence the old ship righted. The leak increased; shoals round her, but
The vessel swam, yet still she held her own. It may be easily supposed, while this They tried the pumps again, and though Was going on, some people were unquiet;