I need not ask thee if that hand, when armed, Long after thy primeval race was run. Thou couldst develop, if that withered tongue Still silent, incommunicative elf! Art sworn to secrecy? then keep thy vows; But prythee tell us something of thyself, Reveal the secrets of thy prison-house! Since in the world of spirits thou hast slumbered, Since first thy form was in this box extended, We have, above-ground, seen some strange mutations; The Roman empire has begun and ended, New worlds have risen we have lost old nations. Didst thou not hear the pother o'er thy head, And shook the pyramids with fear and wonder, If the tomb's secrets may not be confessed, A heart has throbbed beneath that leathern breast, Statue of flesh Immortal of the dead! Imperishable type of evanescence! Posthumous man, who quitt'st thy narrow bed, THE DOCTOR AND HIS APPRENTICE. Thou wilt hear nothing till the judgment morning, When the great trump shall thrill thee with its warning! Why should this worthless tegument endure, If its undying guest be lost for ever? 295 HORACE SMITH. XXI. - THE DOCTOR AND HIS APPRENTICE. A PUPIL of the Esculapian school, ambitious to get on a little faster in physic, asked (if not against the rule) that he might pay a visit with his master to his next patient. The master gave consent, so off they went; and now, before the day had fled, behold them at a sick man's bed. 66 and smelt again, and maneuvers that for Make ready and pre The master-doctor solemnly perused the patient's face, and o'er his symptoms mused; looked wise, said nothing—an unerring way, when people nothing have to say; then felt his pulse and smelt his cane and paused, and blinked, went through all the customary motions, Death's platoon are meant; a kind of a sent," before the fell discharge of pills and At length the patient's wife he thus addressed: your husband's danger's great, and (what will never his complaint, abate) the man's been eating oysters, I perceive." you 're a witch, I verily believe!" madam replied, and to the truth confessed. potions. 66 Madam, 66 Dear! Skill so prodigious Bobby, too, admired, and home returning of the sage inquired how these same oysters came into his head. "Psha! my dear Bob, the thing was plain; sure that can ne'er distress thy brain; I saw the shells lie underneath the bed." So, wise by such a lesson grown, next day Bob ventured forth alone, and to the self-same sufferer paid his court. But soon, with haste and wonder out of breath, returned the stripling minister of death, and to his master made this dread report: Why, sir, we ne'er can keep that patient under! Zounds! such a maw I never came across! The fellow must be dying, and no wonder, for hang me if he has n't eat a horse!" 66 A horse!" the elder man of physic cried, as if he meant his pupil to deride. "How came so wild a notion in your head?" "How! think not in my duty I was idle; like you, I took a peep beneath the bed, and there I saw a saddle and a bridle!" ANON. (altered). XXII. THE MODERN PUFFING SYSTEM. FROM AN EPISTLE TO SAMUEL ROGERS, ESQ. UNLIKE those feeble gales of praise What steam is on the deep — and more— And makes "immortal" and "divine" of us In old times, when the god of song - Booked for posterity "all through," - But, now, how different is the story Who, scorning all such slack and slow' time, Raise but one general blast of Puff In vain the critics, set to watch him, In vain doth Edinburgh* dispense * An allusion to the Edinburgh Review, the Edinburgh edition of which has blue covers, backed with yellow. PREACHING VERSUS PRACTICE. (That plague so awful, in my time, 66 Becomes immortal," spite of Murray.* 297 MOORE. LAUGH on, fair cousins, for to you all life is joyous yet; I used to have as glad a face, as shadowless a brow; I once could run as blithe a race as you are running now; A YOUNGSTER at school, more sedate than the rest, Had once his integrity put to the test; His comrades had plotted an orchard to rob, PRAED. He was shocked, sir, like you, and answered, "O, no! *Murray, the publisher of the London Quarterly Review. "You speak very fine, and you look very grave, They spoke, and Tom pondered-"I see they will go : Poor man! I would save him his fruit, if I could, "If the matter depended alone upon me, His apples might hang till they dropped from the tree; O! THE old, old clock, of the household stock, COWPER. 'T was a monitor, too, though its words were few, And its voice, still strong, warned old and young, "Tick, tick," it said; "quick, quick, to bed, Up, up, and go, or else you know You'll never rise soon in the morning! A friendly voice was that old, old clock, And blessed the time with a merry chime, But a cross old voice was that tiresome clock, As it called at daybreak boldly, When the dawn looked gray o'er the misty way, And the early air blew coldly. Tick, tick," it said; "quick out of bed, For five I've given warning; You'll never have health, you'll never get wealth, Unless you 're up soon in the morning." CHARLES SWAIN. |