XLIX. But this is not my maxim: had it been, Some heart aches had been spared me; yet I care not, I would not be a tortoise in his screen [not: Of stubborn shell, which waves and weather wear 'Tis better on the whole to have felt and seen That which humanity may bear, or bear not: "Twill teach discernment to the sensitive, And not to pour their ocean in a sieve. L. Of all the horrid, hideous notes of wo, Sadder than owl-songs, or the midnight blast, Is that portentious phrase, "I told you so," Utter'd by friends, those prophets of the past, Who, 'stead of saying what you now should do, Own they foresaw that you would fall at last, And solace your slight lapse 'gainst "bonos mores." With a long memorandum of old stories. LI. The Lady Adeline's serene severity Was not confined to feeling for her friend, Whose fame she rather doubted with posterity, Unless her habits should begin to mend. But Juan also shared in her austerity, But mix'd with pity, pure as e'er was penn'd: His inexperience moved her gentle ruth, And (as her junior by six weeks) his youth. LII. These forty days' advantage of her years- And noble births, nor dread the enumerationGave her a right to have maternal fears For a young gentleman's fit education, Though she was far from that leap-year, whose leap In female dates, strikes time all of a heap. LIII. This may be fix'd somewhere before thirty- Advance beyond, while they could pass for new. LIV. But Adeline was far from that ripe age, My Muse despises reference, as you have guess'd LV. At sixteen she came out; presented, vaunted, LVI. Since then she had sparkled through three glowing LVII. Fondly the wheeling fire-flies flew around her, Those little glitterers of the London night; But none of these possess'd a sting to wound herShe was a pitch beyond a coxcomb's flight. Perhaps she wish'd an aspirant profounder; But, whatsoe'er she wish'd, she acted right; And whether coldness, pride, or virtue, dignify A woman, so she's good, what does it signify? LVIII. I hate a motive like a lingering bottle, Which with the landlord makes too long a stand, Leaving all claretless the unmoisten'd throttle, Especially with politics on hand; I hate it, as I hate a drove of cattle, Who whirl the dust as Simooms whirl the sand; I hate it, as I hate an argument, A laureate's ode, or servile peer's "content." LIX. 'Tis sad to hack into the roots of things, LX. With the kind view of saving an eclat, That Juan was unlikely to resist- LXI. The Lady Adeline resolved to take Such measures as she thought might best imped The farther progress of this sad mistake. She thought with some simplicity indeed; But innocence is bold even at the stake, And simple in the world, and doth not need Nor-use those palisades by dames erected, Whose virtue lies in never being detected. LXII. It was not that she fear'd the very worst: His grace was an enduring, married man, And was not likely all at once to burst Into a scene, and swell the client's clan Of Doctors' Commons; but she dreaded first The magic of her grace's talisman, And next a quarrel (as he seem'd to fret) With Lord Augustus Fitz-Plantagenet. LXXVII. "Beatus ille procul!" from "negotiis," Is much more to the purpose of his song; Adam exchanged his paradise for ploughing; LXXIX. And hence high life is oft a dreary void, A rack of pleasures, where we must invent A something wherewithal to be annoy'd. Bards may sing what they please about content; Contented, when translated; means but cloy'd; And hence arise the woes of sentiment, Blue-devils, and blue-stockings, and romances Reduced to practice, and perform'd like dances. LXXX. I do declare, upon an affidavit, Romances I ne'er read like those I have seen; Nor, if unto the world I ever gave it, Would some believe that such a tale had been: But such intent I never had, nor have it; Some truths are better kept behind a screen, LXXXI. "An oyster may be cross'd in love,"-and why? With sloth hath found it difficult to dwell; LXXXII. Oh, Wilberforce! thou man of black renown, But there's another little thing, I own, Which you should perpetrate some summer's day, And set the other half of earth to rights: LXXXIV. Shut up the world at large; let Bedlam out, Were there a jot of sense among mankind; But till that point d'appui is found, alas! Like Archimedes, I .cave earth as 'twas. LXXXV. Our gentle Adeline had one defect Her heart was vacant, though a splendid mansion; Her conduct had been perfectly correct, As she had seen nought claiming its expansion A wavering spirit may be easier wreck'd, Because 'tis frailer, doubtless, than a stanch one, But when the latter works its own undoing, Its inner crash is like an earthquake's ruin.. LXXXVI. She loved her lord, or thought so; but that love Our feelings 'gainst the nature of the soil. LXXXVII. There was no great disparity of years, Or like the Rhone by Leman's waters wash'd, Where mingled and yet separate appears The river from the lake, all bluely dash'd Through the serene and placid glassy deep, Which fain would lull its river-child to sleep. LXXXVIII. Now, when she once had ta'en an interest LXXXIX. But when it was, she had that lurking demon Whene'er their triumph pales, or star is tamed:And 'twill perplex the casuists in morality, You have freed the blacks-now pray shut up the To fix the due bounds of this dangerous quality. 1 |