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As all, but men with bishopricks, Yet to the example of that Prinee Allowed, in even a King, were So much is Thibet's land a debtor, wrong

'Tis said, her little Lamas since Wherefore it was they numbly prayed Have all behaved themselves much That Honourable Nursery,

better. That such reforms be henceforth made,

As all good men desired to see ;
In other words (lest they might seem

Too tedious), as the gentlest scheme
For putting all such pranks to rest,
And in its bud the mischief nipping-

They ventured humbly to suggest
His Majesty should have a whipping! Though soldiers are the true supports,

The natural allies of Courts, When this was read, no Congreve Woe to the Monarch who depends rocket,

Too much on his red-coated friends; Discharged into the Gallic trenches, For even soldiers sometimes think E’er equalled the tremendous shock it Nay Colonels have been known to

Produced upon the Nursery Benches. reason, The Bishops, who of course had votes,

And reasoners, whether clad in pink, By right of age and petticoats,

Or red, or blue, are on the brink Were first and foremost in the fuss- (Nine casos out of ten) of treason,

• What, whip a Lama !-Suffer birch To touch his sacred infamous !

Not many soldiers, I believe, are Deistical !-assailing thus

As fond of liberty as Mina ; The fundamentals of the Church !

Else-woe to Kings, when Freedom's

fever No-no-such patriot plans as these (So help them Heaven--and their sees!) For then-but hold—'tis best to veil

Once turns into a Scorletina! They held to be rank blasphemies.'

My meaning in the following tale :-The alarm thus given, by these and

Fable. other Grave ladies of the Nursery side, A LORD of Persia, rich and great, Spread through the land, till, such a Just come into a large estate, pother,

Was shocked to find he had, for neighSuch party squabbles, far and wide, bours, Never in history's page had been Close to his gate, some rascal Ghebers, Recorded, as were then between Whose fires, beneath his very nose, The Whippers and Non-whippers seen. In heretic combustion rose. Till, things arriving at a state

But lords of Persia can, no doubt, Which gave some fears of revolution, Do what they will--80, one fine mornThe patriot lords' advice, though late, ing,

Was put at last in execution. He turned the rascal Ghebers out, The Parliament of Thibet met

First giving a few kicks for warning. The little Lama, called before it, Then, thanking Heaven most piously, Did, then and there, his whipping get, He knocked theirtemple to the ground, And (as the Nursery Gazette

Blessing himself for joy to see Assures us) like a hero bore it. Such Pagan ruins strewed around.

But much it vexed my lord to find, And though ’mong Thibet Tories, some That, while all else obeyed his will, Lament that Royal Martyrdom

The fire these Ghebers left behind(Please to observe, the letter D

Do what he would-kept burning In this last word's pronounced like B), still.

Fiercely he stormed, as if his frown He found not only the old blaze,
Could scare the bright insurgent down; Brisk as before, crackling and burn
But, no-such fires are headstrong ing-

Not only new, young conflagrations, And care not much for lords or kings. Popping up round in various stations-Scarce could his lordship well contrive But, still more awful, strange, and dire,

The flashes in one place to smother, The extinguishers themselves on fire !!í Before-hey, presto !-all alive, They, they—those trusty, blind ma

They sprung up freshly in another. chines At length, when, spite of prayers and

His lordship had so long been praising, damps,

As, under Providence, the means 'Twas found the sturdy flame defied

Of keeping down all lawless blazing, him,

Were now themselves-alas, too true His stewards came, with low salams,

The shameful fact !-turned blazers too, Offering, by contract, to provide him And, by a change as odd as cruel, Some large extinguishers (a plan

Instead of dampers, served for fuel ! Much used, they said, at Ispahan, Vienna, Petersburgh-in short

Thus, of his only hope bereft, Wherever light's forbid at court) — •What,' said the great man, 'must Machines no lord should be without,

be done?' Which would, at once, put promptly out All that, in scrapes like this, is left Fires of all kinds—from staring stark To great men is—to cut and run. Volcanos to the tiniest spark

So run he did ; while to their grounds Till all things slept as dull and dark

The banished Ghebers blessed reAs, in a great lord's neighbourhood, turned; Twas right and fitting all things should. And, though their fire had broke its

bounds, Accordingly, some large supplies Of these extinguishers were furnished Yet well could they, who loved the

And all abroad now wildly burned, (All of the true, imperial size), 1

flame, And there, in rows, stood black and Its wandering, its excess reclaim ; burnished,

And soon another, fairer dome Ready, where'er a gleam but shone

Arose to be its sacred home, Of light or fire, to be clapped on.

Where, cherished, guarded, not contined, But, ah! how lordly wisdom errs The living glory dwelt enshrined, In trusting to extinguishers !

And, shedding lustre, strong but even, One day, when he had left all sure Though born of earth, grew worthy (At least believed so), dark, secure

The flame, at all its exits, entries,

Obstructed to his heart's content,
And black extinguishers, like sentries, . The moral hence my Muse infers

Placed upon every dangerous veut-1 Is—that such lords are simple elves, Ye Gods ! imagine bis amaze,

In trusting to extinguishers His wrath, his rage, when, on returning, That are combustible themselves.

· The idea of this fable was caught from one of Julia-a production which contains some of the those brilliant mots which abound in the conver- happiest specimens of playful poetry that have sation of my friend, the author of the Letters to appeared in this or any age.






The Gentleman from whose Journal the following extracts are taken, tells the reader in his lutroduction that the greater part of these poems were written or composed in an old calèche, for the purpose of beguiling the ennui of solitary travelling; and as verses made by a gentleman in his sleep have lately been called a psychological curiosity,' it is to be hoped that verses made by a gentleman to keep himself awake may be honoured with some appellation equally Greek.

INTRODUCTORY RHYMES. Different Attitudes in which Authors com- | Declares the clock-work of the head pose. - Bayes, Henry Stephens, Hero- Goes best in that reclined position. dotus, etc.— Writing in Bedin the If you consult Montaigne' and Pliny on Fields.- Plato and Sir Richard Black. The subject, 'tis their joint opinion more.-Fiddling with Gloves and Twigs. That Thought its richest harvest yields --Madame de Stuël

. - Rhyming on the Abroad, among the woods and fields ; Road, in an old Calèche.

That bards, who deal in small retail, What various attitudes and ways,

At home may, at their counters, stop; And tricks, we authors have in writ. But that the grove, the hill, the vale,

Are Poesy's true wholesale shop. ing! While some write sitting, some, like Bayes,

And truly I suspect they're rightUsually stand while they're inditing. Just at that closing hour of light,

For, many a time, on summer eves, Poets there are, who wear the floor out,

When, like an eastern Prince, who Measuring a line at every stride; While some, like Henry Stephens, pour For distant war his Haram bowers,

leaves out Rhymes by the dozen, while they ride.? | Whose heads are sunk, whose tears are

The Sun bids farewell to the towers, Herodotus wrote most in bed ;

flowing And Richerand, a French physician, l 'Mid all the glory of his going

1 Pleraque sua carmina equitans composuit.- Paravicin. Singular.

? Mes pensées dorment, si je les assis.--Montaigne. Animus eorum, qui in aperto aëre ambulant, attollitur.–Pliny,

Even I have felt beneath those beams, And manage, at the self-same time, When wandering through the fields To adjust a neckcloth and a rhyme.

alone, Thoughts, fancies, intellectual gleams, Some bards there are who cannot That, far too bright to be my own,

scribble Seemed lent me by the Sunny Power,

Without a glove, to tear or nibble, That was abroad at that still hour. Or a small twig to whisk about

As if the hidden founts of Fancy, If thus I've felt, how must they feel, Like those of water, were found out

The few whom genuine Genius warms, By mystic tricks of rhabdomancy. And stamps upon their soul his seal, Such was the little feathery wand3

Graven with Beauty'scountless forms; That, held for ever in the hand The few upon this earth who seem Of her who won and wore the crown Born to give truth to Plato's dream, Of female genius in this age, Since in their souls, as in a glass, Seemed the conductor, that drew down

Shadows of things divine appear- Those words of lightning on her page. Reflections of bright forms that pass Through fairer worlds beyond our As for myself—to come at last sphere !

To the old way in which I writeBut this reminds me I digress ;

Having employed these few months past For Plato, too, produced, 'tis said Chiefly in travelling, day and night, (As one indeed might almost guess),

I've got into the easy mode, His glorious visions all in bed.? You see, of rhyming on the road'Twas in his carriage the sublime Making a way-bill of my pages, Sir Richard Blackmore used to rhyme; Counting my stanzas by my stages

And (if the wits don't do him wrong), | Twixt lays and re-lays no time lost'Twixt death and epics passed his time, In short, in two words, writing post.

Scribbling and killing all day long—My verses, I suspect, not ill Like Phoebus in his car, at ease,

Resembling the crazed vehicle Now warbling forth a lofty song,

(An old calèche, for which a villain Now murdering the young Niobes. Charged me sometwenty Naps at Milan)

In which I wrote them-patched-up There was a hero 'mong the Danes, things, Who wrote, we're told,'mid all the pains On weak, but rather easy, springs,

And horrors of exenteration, Jingling along, with little in 'em, Nine charming odes, which, if you look, And (where the road is not so rough, You'll find preserved, with a trans- Or deep, or lofty, as to spin 'em, lation,

Down precipices) safe enough. By Bartholinus in his book.?

Too ready to take fire, I own, In short, 'twere endless to recite And then, too, nearest a break-down; The various modes in which men write. But, for my comfort, hung so low, Some wits are only in the mind I haven't in falling, far to go, When beaux and belles are round with all this, light, and swift, and airy, them prating;

And carrying (which is best of all) Some, when they dress for dinner, find But little for the Doganieri*

Their muse and valet both in waiting, Of the Reviews to overhaul.

| The only authority I know for imputing this Danico heroi, cum Bruso ipsum, intestina extra practice to Plato and iIerodotus, is a Latin poem hens, immaniter tor et, tunc enim nores. by M. de Valois on his Bed, in which lie says: carmina cecinit, etc.-Bartholin. de causis er Lucifer Herodotum vidit vesperque cubantem;

tempt. mort. Desedit totos hic Plato sæpe dies.

3 Made of paper, twisted up like a fan &

feather. Mme de Staël is here alluded to. 2 Eadem cura nec minores inter cruciatus 4 Custom-house officers. animam infelicom agenti fuit Asbiorno Prudæ



Among the opening clouds shall shine,

Geneva. Divinity's own radiant sign ! View of the Lake of Geneva from the Mighty Mont Blanc ! thou wert to me, Jura. -- Anxious to reach it before the That minute, with thy brow in Sun went down.-Obliged to proceed Heaven, on Foot.-Alps. -Mont Blanc.Effect As sure a sign of Deity of the Scene.

As e'er to mortal gaze was given.

Nor ever, were I destined yet
'Twas late-the sun had almost shone To live my life twice o'er again,
His last and best, when I ran on, Can I the deep-felt awe forget-
Anxious to reach that splendid view

The ecstasy that thrilled me then !
Before the day-beams quite withdrew;
And feeling as all feel, on first

'Twas all that consciousness of power, Approaching scenes where, they are And life, beyond this mortal hour, told,

Those inountings of the soul within Such glories on their eyes shall burst As youthful bards in dreams behold. By instinct in the cage to rise,

At thoughts of Heaven-as birds begin 'Twas distant yet, and, as I ran,

When near their time for change of Full often was my wistful gaze

skiesTurned to the sun, who now began

That proud assurance of our claim To call in all his outpost rays,

To rank among the Sons of Light, And form a denser march of light,

Mingled with shame oh, bitter Sach as beseems a hero's flight.

shame! Oh, how I wished for Joshua's power,

At having risked that splendid right, To stay the brightness of that hour !

For aught that earth, through all its But no—the sun still less became, Diminished to a speck, as splendid

range And small as were those tongues of 'Twas all this, at the instant brought,

Of glories, offers in exchange ! flame

Like breaking sunshine, o'er my That on the Apostles' heads de.

thoughtscended !

'Twas all this, kindled to a glow

Of sacred zeal, which, could it shine 'Twas at this instant-while there Thus purely ever, man might grow, glowed

Even upon earth, a thing divine, This last, intensest gleam of light- And be once more the creature made Suddenly, through the opening road, To walk unstained the Elysian shade!

The valley burst upon my sight! That glorious valley, with its lake, No-never shall I lose the trace And Alps on Alps in clusters swell. Of what I've felt in this bright place. ing;

And should my spirit's hope grow weak; Mighty, and pure, and fit to make

Should I, oh God! e'er doubt thy The ramparts of a Godhead's dwell

power, ing!

This mighty scene again I'll seek,

At the same calm and glowing hour, I stood entranced ani mute--as they And here, at the sublimest shrine

Of Israel think the assembled world That Nature ever reared to Thee, Will stand upon that awful day, Rekindle all that hope divine,

When the Ārk's Light, aloft unfurled, And feel my immortality !

Between Vattay and Gex.

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