Who told the flutes there to leave off?
They've not been breathed yet, half enough:
And who hung up the pipes and lyres?
They have not done with half their fires.
The roses too-heap, heap one's hair!
I hate a right hand that can spare.
Let the old envious dog next door,
Old Lycus, hear the maddening roar,
And the blithe girl (she'll love it well)
Whom Lycus finds-not haveable.
Ah, Telephus! Those locks of thine,
That lie so thick and smooth, and shine,
And that complete and sparkling air,
That gilds one's evenings like a star,
'Tis these the little jade considers,
And cuts her poor, profuser bidders.
'And you, dear Horace, what fair she
Inspires you now?' Oh, as for me,
I'm in the old tormenting way;
Burnt at a slow fire, day by day,
For my dull, dear Glycera.
THE STORY OF CYLLARUS AND HYLONOME
AN EPISODE FROM THE BATTLE OF THE CENTAURS AND LAPITHE
[First published in The Indicator, April 5, 1820. Reprinted 1832. Text 1832.]
No gentle woman-hearted thing
Of all the half-human race,
Carried about the shady woods
A more becoming grace.
With pretty natural blandishments,
And loving, and at last
Owning her love with rosy talk,
She bound the conqueror fast.
Her limbs, as much as in her lay,
She kept adorned with care,
And took especial pride to sleek
Her lightsome locks of hair,
FROM THE STORY OF CEPHALUS AND PROCRIS
[First published in The Indicator, April 12, 1820. Not reprinted.]
CLOSE by the flowery purple hill,
Hymettus, may be found
A sacred fountain, and a plot
Of green and lovely ground.
'Tis in a copse. The strawberry
Grows blushing through the grass;
And myrtle, rosemary, and bay
Quite perfume all the place.
Nor is the tamarisk wanting there;
Nor clumps of leafy box;
Nor slender cytisus; nor yet
The pine with its proud locks. Touched by the zephyrs and sweet airs, Which there in balm assemble, This little world of leaves, and all The tops of the grass tremble.
PART OF A CHORUS IN TRAGEDY OF THYESTES
reprinted 1815. No variants.]
[First published in 1814; 'Tis not wealth that makes a king, Nor the purple's colouring,
Nor a brow that 's bound with gold,
Nor gates on mighty hinges rolled.
The king is he, who void of fear,
Looks abroad with bosom clear;
Who can tread ambition down,
Nor be swayed by smile or frown;
What shall move his placid might?
Not the headlong thunderlight,
Nor the storm that rushes out
To snatch the shivering waves about,
Nor all the shapes of slaughter's
trade
With forward lance or fiery blade.
Safe, with wisdom for his crown,
He looks on all things calmly down; 20
He welcomes fate, when fate is near,
Nor taints his dying breath with fear.
Grant that all the kings assemble,
At whose tread the Scythians
tremble,-
Grant that in the train be they,
Whom the Red-Sea shores obey,
No need has he of vulgar force,
Armour, or arms, or chested horse,
Nor all the idle darts that light
From Parthian in his feigned flight,
Nor whirling rocks from engines
thrown,
41
That come to shake old cities down.
No-to fear not earthly thing,
This it is that makes the king;
And all of us, whoe'er we be,
May carve us out this royalty.
[First published in The Indicator, November 10, 1819. Reprinted 1832-60. No variants.]
UNDERNEATH this greedy stone
Lies little sweet Erotion;
Whom the Fates, with hearts as cold,
Nipped away at six years old.
Thou, whoever thou may'st be,
That hast this small field after me,
Let the yearly rites be paid
To her little slender shade;
So shall no disease or jar
Hurt thy house, or chill thy Lar; 10
But this tomb here be alone,
The only melancholy stone.
FROM MEDIAEVAL AND LATER LATIN
THE JOVIAL PRIEST'S CONFESSION
[First published in The Examiner, June 13, 1819, signed Harry Brown '. Reprinted in The Indicator, February 7, 1821; and 1832-60. Text 1821-60. MS. of Il. 1-8 in Brit. Mus. Add. MS. 14343, f. 3.]
I DEVISE to end my days-in a tavern drinking,
May some Christian hold for me-the glass when I am shrinking;
That the Cherubim may cry when they see me sinking,
God be merciful to a soul-of this gentleman's way of thinking.
A glass of wine amazingly-enlighteneth one's internals;
'Tis wings bedewed with nectar-that fly up to supernals;
Bottles cracked in taverns-have much the sweeter kernels
Than the sups allowed to us-in the college journals.
Every one by nature hath-a mould which he was cast in ;
I happen to be one of those who never could write fasting;
By a single little boy-I should be surpassed in
Writing so I'd just as lief-be buried, tombed and grassed in.
Every one by nature hath-a gift too, a dotation:
I, when I make verses,-do get the inspiration
Of the very best of wine-that comes into the nation:
It maketh sermons to abound-for edification.
Just as liquor floweth good-floweth forth my lay so;
But I must moreover eat-or I could not say so;
Nought it availeth inwardly-should I write all day so;
But with God's grace after meat-I beat Ovidius Naso.
Neither is there given to me-prophetic animation,
Unless when I have eat and drank-yea, ev'n to saturation;
Then in my upper story-hath Bacchus domination,
And Phoebus rusheth into me, and beggareth all relation.
6 bedewed] reddened 1819.
SONG OF FAIRIES ROBBING AN ORCHARD
From some Latin verses in the Old English drama of 'Amyntas, or the Impossible Dowry' by Thomas Randolph.
[First published in The Tatler, September 8, 1830 (first three stanzas), reprinted 1832-60; also in Leigh Hunt's London Journal, October 8, 1834 (six stanzas), and in The Monthly Repository, September 1837 (seven stanzas). Text 1837]
Fairies dance about Bromius, and pinch and scratch him in chorus.
Since by thee comes profanation,
Taste thee lo! scarification.
Thou shalt own, that in a twinkling
Thou hast got a pretty crinkling.
Now for all this store of apples,
Laud we with the voice of chapels.
Elves, methinks, were ordained solely
To keep orchard-robbing holy.
Home, then, home; let 's recreate us
With the maids whose dairies wait us;
Kissing them, with pretty grapples,
All midst junkets, wine, and apples.
17-20 in 1834, 1837 only. 19 Thou... that] Noisy booby! 1834. 21 all this store] such a stock 1834. 22 we] me 1834. 23 Elves. ordained] Fays. gotten 1834. 25 Hence, then, hence, and let's delight us 1834. 26 dairies wait] creams invite 1834. 27 with pretty grapples] like proper fairies 1834. 28 All amidst their fruits and dairies 1834.
ACCORDING TO THE IDEA OF IT ENTERTAINED BY ARISTOTLE
[First published in The Literary Examiner, September 13, 1823. Reprinted 1832-60. Text 1832-60.]
Sole, yet all; first visible thought,
After which the Deity wrought?
Twin-birth with Pallas, not remain
Doth he in Jove's o'ershadowed brain
But though of wide communion,
Dwells apart, like one alone,
And fills the wondering embrace
(Doubt it not) of size and place.
Whether, companion of the stars,
With their tenfold round he errs;
Or inhabits with his lone
Nature in the neighbouring moon;
Or sits with body-waiting souls,
Dozing by the Lethæan pools :-
Or whether, haply placed afar
In some blank region of our star,
He stalks, an unsubstantial heap,
Humanity's giant archetype;
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