VIII.

There's doubtless something in domestic doings,
Which forms, in fact, true love's antithesis;
Romances paint at full length people's wooings,
But only give a bust of marriages;

For no one cares for matrimonial cooings,
There's nothing wrong in a connubial kiss:
Think you if Laura had been Petrarch's wife
He would have written sonnets all his life?

IX.

All tragedies are finished by a death,
All comedies are ended by a marriage;
The future state of both are left to faith,

For authors fear description might disparage

The worlds to come of both, or fall beneath,

And then both worlds would punish their miscarriage; So leaving each their priest and prayer-book ready, They say no more of Death or of the lady.

X.

The only two that in my recollection

Have sung of heaven and hell, or marriage, are
Dante and Milton, and of both the affection.
Was hapless in their nuptials, for some bar
Of fault or temper ruin'd the connexion-

(Such things, in fact, it don't ask much to mar);

But Dante's Beatrice and Milton's Eve

Were not drawn from their spouses, you perceive.

XI.

Some persons say that Dante meant theology
By Beatrice, and not a mistress-I,
Although my opinion may require apology,

Deem this a commentator's phantasy,

Unless, indeed, it was from his own knowledge he
Decided thus, and shew'd good reason why;

I think that Dante's more abstruse ecstatics
Meant to personify the mathematics.

XII.

Haidee and Juan were not married, but

The fault was theirs, not mine: it is not fair,
Chaste reader, then, in any way to put

The blame on me, unless you wish they were;
Then, if you'd have them wedded, please to shut
The book which treats of this erroneous pair,
Before the consequences grow too awful;
'Tis dangerous to read of loves unlawful,

XIII.

Yet they were happy, happy in the illicit
Indulgence of their innocent desires;
But more imprudent grown with every visit,
Haidee forgot the island was her sire's;
When we have what we like, 'tis hard to miss it,
At least in the beginning, ere one tires;
Thus she came often, not a moment losing,
Whilst her piratical papa was cruising.

XIV.

Let not his mode of raising cash seem strange,
Although he fleeced the flags of every nation,
For into a prime minister but change

His title, and 'tis nothing but taxation;
But he, more modest, took an humbler range
Of life, and in an honester vocation
Pursued o'er the high seas his watery journey,
And merely practised as a sea-attorney.

XV.

The good old gentleman had been detained

By winds and waves, and some important captures ; And, in the hope of more, at sea remain'd,

Although a squall or two had damp'd his raptures,
By swamping one of the prizes; he had chain'd
His prisoners, dividing them like chapters

In number'd lots; they all had cuffs and collars,
And averaged each from ten to a hundred dollars.

XVI.

Some he disposed of off Cape Matapan,
Among his friends the Mainots; some he sold
To his Tunis correspondents, save one man
Toss'd overboard, unsaleable (being old);
The rest-save here and there some richer one,
Reserved for future ransom in the hold,
Were linked alike, as for the common people he
Had a large order from the Dey of Tripoli.

XVII.

The merchandise was served in the same way,
Pieced out for different marts in the Levant,
Except some certain portions of the prey,
Light classic articles of female want,
French stuffs, lace, tweezers, toothpicks, teapot tray,
Guitars and castanets from Alicant,

All which selected from the spoil he gathers,
Robb'd for his daughter by the best of fathers.

XVIII.

A monkey, a Dutch mastiff, a maccaw,

Two parrots, with a Persian cat and kittens, He chose from several animals he saw

A terrier, too, which once had been a Briton's, Who dying on the coast of Ithaca,

The peasants gave the poor dumb thing a pittance; These to secure in this strong blowing weather, He caged in one huge hamper altogether.

XIX.

Then having settled his marine affairs,
Despatching single cruisers here and there,
His vessel having need of some repairs,

He shaped his course to where his daughter fair Continued still her hospitable cares;

But that part of the coast being shoal and bare, And rough with reefs which ran out many a mile, His port lay on the other side o'the isle,

XX.

And there he went ashore without delay,
Having no custom-house nor quarantine
To ask him awkward questions on the way
About the time and place where he had been :
He left his ship to be hove down next day,
With orders to the people to careen;
So that all hands were busy beyond measure,
In getting out goods, ballast, guns, and treasure.

XXI.

Arriving at the summit of a hill

Which overlook'd the white walls of his home, He stopp'd.-What singular emotions fill

Their bosoms who have been induced to roam! With fluttering doubts if all be well or ill

With love for many, and with fears for some; All feelings which o'erleap the years long lost, And bring our hearts back to their starting-post.

XXII.

The approach of home to husbands and to sires,
After long travelling by land or water,
Most naturally some small doubt inspires—
A female family's a serious matter;

(None trusts the sex more, or so much admires-
But they hate flattery, so I never flatter;)
Wives in their husbands' absences grow subtler,
And daughters sometimes run off with the butler.

XXIII.

An honest gentleman at his return

May not have the good fortune of Ulysses; Not all lone matrons for their husbands mourn, Or shew the same dislike to suitors' kisses; The odds are that he finds a handsome urn

To his memory, and two or three young misses Born to some friend, who holds his wife and riches, And that his Argus bites him by the breeches.

XXIV.

If single, probably his plighted fair

Has in his absence wedded some rich miser; But all the better, for the happy pair

May quarrel, and the lady growing wiser,
He may resume his amatory care

As cavalier servente, or despise her;
And that his sorrow may not be a dumb one,
Write odes on the Inconstancy of Woman.

XXV.

And oh! ye gentlemen who have already
Some chaste liaison of the kind-I mean
An honest friendship with a married lady-
The only thing of this sort ever seen
To last-of all connexions the most steady,
And the true Hymen, (the first but a screen)-
Yet for all that keep not too long away,

I've known the absent wrong'd four times a-day.

XXVI.

Lambro, our sea-solicitor, who had

Much less experience of dry land than ocean, On seeing his own chimney-smoke, felt glad ; But not knowing metaphysics, had no notion Of the true reason of his not being sad,

Or that of any other strong emotion;

He loved his child, and would have wept the loss of her, But knew the cause no more than a philosopher.

XXVII.

He saw his white walls shining in the sun,
His garden trees all shadowy and green;
He heard his rivulet's light bubbling run,

The distant dog-bark; and perceived between
The umbrage of the wood so cool and dun

The moving figures, and the sparkling sheen
Of arms-(in the East all arm)-and various dyes
Of colour'd garbs, as bright as butterflies.

L