IV.

Ah! who can tell? Or rather, who can not Remember, without telling, passion's errors? The drainer of oblivion, even the sot,

Hath got blue devils for his morning mirrors: What though on Lethe's stream he seem to float, He cannot sink his tremors or his terrors; The ruby glass that shakes within his hand Leaves a sad sediment of Time's worst sand.

V.

And as for love-O love! We will proceed. The Lady Adeline Amundeville,

A pretty name as one would wish to read, Must perch harmonious on my tuneful quill, There's music in the sighing of a reed;

There's music in the gushing of a rill; There's music in all things, if men had ears: Their earth is but an echo of the spheres.

VI,

The Lady Adeline, right honourable,

And honour'd, ran a risk of growing less so; For few of the soft sex are very stable

In their resolves alas! that I should say so! They differ as wine differs from its label,

When once decanted;

-I presume to guess so,

But will not swear; yet both upon occasion,
Till old, may undergo adulteration,

VII.

But Adeline was of the purest vintage,
The unmingled essence of the grape; and yet
Bright as a new Napoleon from its mintage,
Ör glorious as a diamond richly set;

A page where Time should hesitate to print age,
And for which Nature might forego her debt-
Sole creditor whose process doth involve in 't
The luck of finding every body solvent.

VIII.

O Death! thou dunnest of all duns! thou daily
Knockest at doors, at first with modest tap,
Like a meek tradesman when, approaching palely,
Some splendid debtor he would take by sap:
But oft denied, as patience 'gins to fail, he
Advances with exasperated rap,

And (if let in) insists, in terms unhandsome,
On ready money or 66 a draft on Ransom."

IX.

Whate'er thou takest, spare awhile poor Beauty!
She is so rare, and thou hast so much prey.
What though she now and then may slip from duty,
The more 's the reason why you ought to stay.
Gaunt Gourmand! with whole nations for your booty,
You should be civil in a modest way:

Suppress, then, some slight feminine diseases,
And take as many heroes as Heaven pleases.

X.

Fair Adeline, the most ingenuous

Where she was interested (as was said),
Because she was not apt, like some of us,
To like too readily, or too high bred

To show it-(points we need not now discuss)-
Would give up artlessly both heart and head
Unto such feelings as seem'd innocent,

For objects worthy of the sentiment.

XI.

Some parts of Juan's history, which Rumour,
That live gazette, had scatter'd to disfigure,
She had heard; but women hear with more good humour
Such aberrations than we men of rigour :

Besides, his conduct, since in England, grew more
Strict, and his mind assumed a manlier vigour;

Because he had, like Alcibiades,

The art of living in all climes with ease.

XII.

His manner was perhaps the more seductive,
Because he ne'er seem'd anxious to seduce;
Nothing affected, studied, or constructive

Of coxcombry or conquest: no abuse
Of his attractions marr'd the fair perspective,
To indicate a Cupidon broke loose,
And seem to say, "Resist us if you can
Which makes a dandy while it spoils a man.

They are wrong

XIII.

that 's not the way to set about it; As, if they told the truth, could well be shown. But right or wrong, Don Juan was without it; In fact, his manner was his own alone : Sincere he was

at least you could not doubt it,
In listening merely to his voice's tone.
The devil hath not in all his quiver's choice
An arrow for the heart like a sweet voice.

XIV.

By nature soft, his whole address held off
Suspicion though not timid, his regard
Was such as rather seem'd to keep aloof,

To shield himself than put you on your guard:
Perhaps 't was hardly quite assured enough,
But modesty 's at times its own reward,
Like virtue; and the absence of pretension
Will go much further than there 's need to mention.

XV.

Serene, accomplish'd, cheerful but not loud;
Insinuating without insinuation;
Observant of the foibles of the crowd,

Yet ne'er betraying this in conversation;
Proud with the proud, yet courteously proud,
So as to make them feel he knew his station
And theirs without a struggle for priority,
He neither brook'd nor claim'd superiority.

;

XVI.

That is, with men: with women he was what
They pleased to make or take him for; and their
Imagination 's quite enough for that:

So that the outline 's tolerably fair,

They fill the canvass up and "verbum sat."

If once their phantasies be brought to bear
Upon an object, whether sad or playful,
They can transfigure brighter than a Raphael.

XVII.

Adeline, no deep judge of character,

Was apt to add a colouring from her own:
"T is thus the good will amiably err,

And eke the wise, as has been often shown.
Experience is the chief philosopher,

But saddest when his science is well known :
And persecuted sages teach the schools

Their folly in forgetting there are fools.

XVIII.

Was it not so, great Locke? and greater Bacon?
Great Socrates? And thou, Diviner still, *
Whose lot it is by man to be mistaken,

And thy pure creed made sanction of all ill?
Redeeming worlds to be by bigots shaken,

How was thy toil rewarded? We might fill
Volumes with similar sad illustrations,

But leave them to the conscience of the nations.

XIX.

I perch upon an humbler promontory,

Amidst life's infinite variety :

With no great care for what is nicknamed glory,
But speculating as I cast mine eye

On what may suit or may not suit my story,
And never straining hard to versify,

I rattle on exactly as I 'd talk

With any body in a ride or walk.

* As it is necessary in these times to avoid ambiguity, I say that I mean, by 'Diviner still," CHRIST. If ever God was man-or man God he was both. I never arraigned his creed, but the use or abuse-made of it. Mr. Canning one day quoted Christianity to sanction negro slavery, and Mr. Wilberforce had little to say in reply. And was Christ crucified, that black men might be Scourged? If so, he had better been born a Mulatto, to give both colours an equal chance of freedom, or at least salvation.

VOL. VI.-H h

XX.

I do n't know that there may be much ability
Shown in this sort of desultory rhyme;
But there's a conversational facility,

Which may round off an hour upon a time.
Of this I'm sure at least, there's no servility
In mine irregularity of chime,

Which rings what 's uppermost of new or hoary,
Just as I feel the " Improvvisatore."

XXI.

"Omnia vult belle Matho dicere dic aliquando
Et bene, dic neutrum, dic aliquando male."
The first is rather more than mortal can do ;
The second may be sadly done or gaily;
The third is still more difficult to stand to;

The fourth we hear, and see, and say too, daily :
The whole together is what I could wish
To serve in this conundrum of a dish.

XXII.

A modest hope but modesty 's my forte,
And pride my foible:- - let us ramble on.
I meant to make this poem very short,

But now I can't tell where it may not run.
No doubt, if I had wish'd to pay my court
To critics, or to hail the setting sun
Of tyranny of all kinds, my concision

Were more;

- but I was born for opposition.

XXIII.

But then 't is mostly on the weaker side;

So that I verily believe if they

Who now are basking in their full-blown pride,

Were shaken down, and " dogs had had their day,"

Though at the first I might perchance deride

Their tumble, I should turn the other way,

And wax an ultra-royalist in loyalty,

Because I hate even democratic royalty.