No- that's a resemblance too vapid and low:

Let's see

to a finished young traveller? - No :

To a graceful young lord just stept out of his carriage? Or handsome young poet, the day of his marriage?

No, nobody's likeness will help me, I see,

To afford you a notion of what he could be,
Not though I collected one pattern victorious
Of all that was good, and accomplish'd, and glorious,
From deeds in the daylight, or books on the shelf,
And call'd up the shape of young Alfred himself.
Imagine, however, if shape there must be,

A figure sublim'd above mortal degree,
His limbs the perfection of elegant strength, -
A fine flowing roundness inclining to length, -
A back dropping in, an expansion of chest,
(For the God, you'll observe, like his statues was
drest)

His throat like a pillar for smoothness and

grace, His curls in a cluster, and then such a face,

As mark'd him at once the true offspring of Jove,
The brow all of wisdom, and lips all of love;

For though he was blooming, an oval of cheek,

And youth down his shoulders went smoothing and sleek,

Yet his look with the reach of past ages was wise,
And the soul of eternity thought through his eyes.
I would not say more, lest my climax should

lose ;

Yet how I have mention'd those lamps of the Muse,

I can't but observe what a splendor they shed,

When a thought more than common came into his head:

Then they leap'd in their frankness, deliciously bright,
And shot round about them an arrowy light;

And if, as he shook back his hair in it's cluster,
A curl fell athwart them and darken'd their lustre,
A sprinkle of gold through the duskiness came,
Like the sun through a tree, when he's setting in flame.
The God then no sooner had taken a chair,

And rung for the landlord to order the fare,

Than he heard a strange noise and a knock from without,

And scraping and bowing, came in such a rout!

There was Arnold, and Reynolds, and Dibdin, and Cherry,

All grinning as who should say, "Shan't we be merry?"

And mighty dull Cobb, lumb'ring just like a bear up,
And sweet Billy Dimond, a patting his hair up.
The God, for an instant, sat fix'd as a stone,
Till recov'ring, he said in a good-natur'd tone,

66

Oh, the waiters, I see ;

ah, it's all very well,

Only one of you'll do just to answer the bell.”

But lord! to see all the great dramatists' faces !
They looked at each other, and made such grimaces!

Then turning about, left the room in vexation,

And Hook, they say, could'nt help mutt'ring "Damnation!"

'Twas lucky for Colman he was'nt there too,

For his pranks would have certainly met with their due,

And Sheridan's also, that finished old tricker;

But one was in prison, and both were in liquor.”
The God fell a laughing to see his mistake,
But stopp'd with a sigh for poor Comedy's sake;
Then gave mine host orders, who bow'd to the floor,
And presented three cards that were brought to the

door :

Apollo just gave them a glance with his eye.

Begg'd the landlord to give his respects to all three, And say he'd be happy to see them to teà.

"Your Majesty then," said the Gaius, " don't know That a person nam'd Crabbe has been waiting below? He has taken his chair in the kitchen, they say." "Indeed!" said Apollo, "Oh pray let him stay:

He'll be much better pleased to be with 'em down stairs,

And will find ye all out with your cookings and

cares

But mind that you treat him as well as you're able, And let him have part of what goes from the table."

A soft, smiling voice then arose on the ear,

As if some one from court was about to appear: — “Oh, this is the room, my good friend? Ah I see it is; Room, sure enough, for the best-bred of deities!"

Then came a whisper,· and then was a hush,

And then, with a sort of a look of a blush,
Came in Mr. Hayley, all polish'd confusion,
And said, "Will Apollo excuse this intrusion?
I might have kept back, but I thought 'twould look

odd,

And friendship, you know, -pray how is my dear God!"

A smile, followed up by a shake of the head,

Crossed the fine lip of Phoebus, who viewed him, and

"I'll give you a lesson, Sir, quite your own seeking, And one that you very much want,

ing.

on plain speak

Pray have you to learn, and at this time of day, That your views on regard have been all the wrong way?

One ten thousandth part of the words and the time
That you've wasted on praises instead of your rhyme,
Might have gained you a title to this kind of freedom;
But volumes of endings, lugged in as you need 'em,
Of hearts and imparts, where's the soul that can read
'em?

So saying, his eye so alarmingly shone,

That ere it could wink, the poor devil was gone.

A hem was then heard, consequential and snapping, And a sour little gentleman walked with a rap in.

He bowed, looked about him, seemed cold, and sat

down,

And said, "I'm surprised that you'll visit this town :

To be sure, there are one or two of us who know you,
But as for the rest, they are all much below you.
So stupid, in general, the natives are grown,

They really prefer Scotch reviews to their own;
So that what with their taste, their reformers, and stuff,
They have sickened myself and my friends long
enough."

"Yourself and your friends!" cried the God in high glee;

"And pray, my frank visitor, who may you be?"

Who be?" cried the other; "why really this

William Gifford's a name, I think, pretty well known!"
66
"Oh now I remember," said Phoebus:
"ah true-

My thanks to that name are undoubtedly due:
The rod, that got rid of the Cruscas and Lauras,
That plague of the butterflies,

saved me the horrors;

The Juvenal too stops a gap in one's shelf,

At least in what Dryden has not done himself;

And there's something, which even distaste must

respect,

In the self-taught example, that conquered neglect.

But not to insist on the recommendations

Of modesty, wit, and a small stock of patience,

My visit just now is to poets alone,

And not to small critics, however well known."
So saying he rang, to leave nothing in doubt,
And the sour little gentleman bless'd himself out.
Next came Walter Scott with a fine weighty face,
For as soon as his visage was seen in the place,