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Borne on the breath of hyperborean gales,
From Hamburg's port (while Hamburg yet had mails)
To snowy Gottenburg-was chill'd to sleep:
Heligoland! to stock thy mart with lies; TERPSICBORE!--too long misdeem'd a maid
While unburnt Moscows yet had news to send, Reproachful terin- bestow'd but to upbraid
Nor owed her fiery exit to a friend,
Of true dispatches, and as true gazettes :
And-almost crush'd beneath the glorious news, If but thy coats are reasonably high ;
Ten plays, and forty tales of Kotzebue's ; Thy breast—if bare enough-requires no shield; One envoy's letters, six composer's airs, Dance forth-sans armour thou shalt take the field, And loads from Frankfort and from Leipsic fairs ; And owo-impregnable to most assaults,
Meiner's four volumes upen womankind, Thy not too lawfully begotten « Waltz.»
Like Lapland witches to ensure a wind;
Brunck's heaviest tome for ballast, and to back it, Hail nimble nymph! to whom the young hussar, Of Heyné, such as should not sink the packet. The whisker'd votary of waltz and war
Fraught with this cargo-and her fairest freight, His night devotes, despite of spur and boots,
Delightful Waltz, ou tiptoe for a mate,
Not decent David, when, before the ark,
Not soft Herodias, when with winning tread
Her nimble feet danced off another's bead; The latter's loyalty, the former's wits,
Not Cleopatra on her galley's deck, To « energise the object I pursue,»
Display'd so much of leg, or more of neck, And give both Belial and his dance their due!
Than thou, ambrosial Waltz, when first the moon
Belield thee twirling to a Saxon tune! Imperial Waltz! imported from the Rhine
To you—ye husbands of ten years! whose brows (Famed for the growth of pedigrees and wine), Ache with the annual tributes of a spouse; Long be thine import from all duty free,
To you of nine years less—who only bear And lock itself be less esteem'd than thee;
The budding sprouts of those that you shall wear, In some few qualities alike for hock
With added ornaments around them rolld, Improves our cellar—thou our living stock.
Of native brass, or law-awarded gold; The head to hock belongs—thy subtler art
To you, ye matrons, ever on the watch Intoxicates alone the heedless heart:
To mar a son's, or make a daughter's match!
Always the ladies, and sometimes their lords ;
you-ye single gentlemen, who seek Oh, Germany! how much to thee we owe,
Torments for life, or pleasures for a week; As heaven-born Pitt can testify below;
As Love or Hymen your endeavours guide,
To gain your own, or snatch another's bride;
And every ball-room echoes with her name.
Endearing Waltz—to thy more melting tune
Bow Irish jig and ancient rigadoon; Wbo owe us millions—don't we owe the queen?
Scotch reels avaunt! and, country-dance, forego To Germany what owe we not besides?
Your future claims to each fantastic toe: So oft bestowing Brunswickers and brides;
Waltz-Waltz alone-both legs and arms demands, Who paid for vulgar, with her royal blood,
Liberal of feet, and lavish of her hands; Drawn from the stem of each Teutonic stud:
Hands which may freely range in public sight Who sent us—so be pardon'd all her faults
Where ne'er before-but-pray « put out the light.» A dozen dukes-some kings—a queen--and Waltz. Methinks the glare of yonder chandelier
Shines much too far-or I am much too near; But peace to ber-her emperor and diet,
And true, though strange-Waltz whispers this remark, Though now transferr'd to Bonaparte's « fiat;»
My slippery steps are safest in the dark !» Back to my theme-O Muse of motion! say,
But here the muse with due decorum halts, How first to Albion found thy Waltz her way? And lends lier longest petticoat to Waltz.
Observant travellers! of every time; Ye quartos, publish'd upon every chime; O say shall dull Romaika's heavy round, Fandango's wriggle, or Bolero's bound; Can Egypt's Almasb-tantalizing groupColumbia's caperers to the warlike whoopCan auglit froin cold kamschatka to Cape Horn With Waltz compare, or after Walız be borne? Ah, no! from Morier's pages down to Gali's, Each tourist pens a paragraph for « Waltz.»
Shades of those belles, whose reigo began of yore,
The ball begins—the honours of the house
Seductive Waltz!-though on thy native shore
O ye! who loved our grandmothers of yore,
Blest was the time Waltz chose for her début :
But ye-who never felt a single thought
and lawless contact warın?
Voluptuous Walız! and dare I thus blaspheme? don himself would have nothing to object to such liberal
bastards of our Lady of Babylon. TERPSICHORE forgive !-at every ball
Note 5. Page 503, line 65. My wife now waltzes—and my daughters shall;
The patriotic arson of our amiable allies cannot be My son (or stop—'t is needless to inquire
sufficiently commended nor subscribed for. Amongst These little accidents should ne'er transpire;
other details omitted in the various dispatches of our Somes ages hence our genealogic trec
eloquent ambassador, he did not state (being too much Will wear as green a bough for him as me),
occupied with the exploits of Colonel C--, in swimWaltzing shall rear, to make our name amends,
ming rivers frozen, and galloping over roads impassGrandsons for me--in heirs to all his friends.
able), that one entire province perished by famine in
the most melancholy manner, as follows:- In General
Rostopchin's consummate conflagration, the consump-
was inadequate to the demand : and thus one hundred
and thirty-three thousand persons were starved to death, State of the poll (last day) 5.
by being reduced to wholesome diet! The lamplighters
of London have since subscribed a pint (of oil) a piece, Note 2. page 502, line 36.
and the tallow-chandlers have unanimously voted a My latin is all forgotten, if a man can be said to have quantity of best moulds (four to the pound) to the reforgotten what he never remembered; but I bought lief of the surviving Scythians—the scarcity wil soon, my title-page motto of a Catholic priest for a three by such exertions, and a proper attention to the quality shilling bank token, after much haggling for the even
rather than the quantity of provision, be totally allesixpence. I grudged the money to a papist, being all viated. It is said, in return, that the untouched Ukraine for the memory of Perceval, and « no popery;” and has subscribed sixty thousand beeves for a day's meal quite regretting the downfal of the
to our suffering manufacturers. can't burn him any more.
Note 6. Page 504, line 5.
Dancing - girls—who do for liire what Walız doth
gratis. Note 4. Page 503, line 21.
Note 7. Page 504, line 20. To rival Lord W.'s, or his nephew's, as the reader
It cannot be complained now, as in the Lady Bauspleases :--the one gained a pretty woman, whom he sicre's time, of the « Sieur de la Croix,» that there be deserved, by fighting for ; and the other has been fight
« no whiskers;» but how far these are indications of ing in the Peniusula many a long day, w by Shrewsbury valour in the field, or elsewhere, may still be questionclock,» without gaining any thing in that country but
able. Much may be and hath been avouched on both the title of « the Great Lord,» and « the Lord,» which
sides. In the olden time philosophers had whiskers savours of profacation, having been hitherto applied
and soldiers none-Scipio himself was shaven-Hanonly to that Being, to whom « Te Deums» for carnage nibal thought his one eye handsome enough without are the rankest blasphemy. It is to be presumed the
a beard; but Adrian, the Emperor, wore a beard general will one day return to his Sabine farm, there
(having warts on his chin, which neither the Empress
Sabina, por even the courtiers could abide)—Turenne
had whiskers, Marlborough none-Buonaparte is un-
Formerly red was a favourite colour. See Lodowick By the by-one of this illustrious person's new titles Barrey's comedy of Ram Alley, 1661, act I. scene i. is forgotten-it is, however, worth remembering—«Sal
Taffeta. Now, for a wager-What coloured beard vador del mundo!» credite, posteri! If this be the
comes next by the window? appellation annexed by the inhabitants of the Peninsula
« Adriana. A black man's, I think. to the name of a man who has not yet saved them
« Taffeta. I think not so: I think a red, for that query-are they worth saving even in this world ? for,
is most in fashion.» according to the mildest modifications of any Christian
There is « nothing new under the sun ;» but red, creed, those three words make the odds much against then a favourite
, has now subsided into a favourite's them in the next.-- « Saviour of the orld,» quotha !
colour. it were to be wished that he, or any one else, could save a corner of it-his country. Yet this stupid misnomer,
Note 8. Page 504, line 40. although it shows the near connexion between super- An anachronism-Waltz, and the battle of Austerlitz stition and impiety, so far has its use, that it proves are before said to have opened the ball together ; the there can be little to dread from those Catholics (in- bard means (if he means any thing), Waltz was not so quisitorial Catholics too) who can confer such an ap- much in vogue till the R--1 attained the acme of pellation on a Protestant. suppose next year he will his popularity. Waltz, the comet, whiskers, and the be entitled the « Virgin Mary:» if so, Lord George Gor- new government, illuminated heaven and earth, in ali
ibeir glory, much about the same time; of these the service (being already in the R--ts): it would not be comet only las disappeared; the other three continue fair to back any peculiar initial against the alphabet, to astonish us still.
as every month will add to the lists now entered for the PRINTER'S DEVIL. sweepstakes-a distinguished consonant is said to be Note 9. Page 504, line 44.
the favourite, much against the wishes of the knowing Amongst others a new pinepence---a creditable coin now forthcoming, worth a pound, in paper, at the fair
Note 12. Page 504, line 70. est calculation.
« We have changed all that,” says the Mock Doctor,
a't is all gone - Asmodeus knows where. After all, it Note 10. l'age 104, line 51.
is of no great importance how women's hearts are dis«Oh that right should thus overcome might!» Who posed of; they have nature's privilege to distribute them does not remember the « delicate Investigation in the as absurdly as possible. But there are also some men « Merry Wives of Windsor ?»
with hearts so thoroughly bad, as to remind us of those Ford. Pray you come near; if I suspect without phenomena often mentioned in natural history; viz. a cause, why then make sport at me; then let me be mass of solid stone-only to be opened by force-and your jest; I deserve it. How now? whither bear you when divided, you discover a toad in the centre, lively, this?
and with the reputation of being venomous.» Mrs Ford. What have you to do whither they bcar
Note 13. Page 504, line go. it?—you were best meddle with buck-washing.»
In Turkey a pertinent-here an impertinent and Note 11. Page 504, line 56.
superfluous question-literally put, as in the text, by The gentle, or ferocious reader, may fill up the blank a Persian to Morier, on seeing a waltz in Pera.- Pide as he pleases —there are several dissyllabic names at his Morier's Travels.
The Lament of Tasso.
And lasteless food, which I have eat alone
And I can banquet like a beast of prey,
Wbich is my lair, and-it may be-my grave.
All this hath somewhat worn me, and may wear, Fido, with letters of Tasso, ouc from Titian to Ariosto, and the inkstand and chair, the tomb and the house of But must be borne. I stoop not to despair ; the latter. But as misfortune has a greater interest for
For I lave battled with mine agony, posterity, and little or none for the contemporary, the cell and made me wings wherewiti to overly
The narrow circus of my dungeon-wall, where Tasso was confued in the hospital of St Anna altracts a more fixed attention than the residence or the And freed the Holy Sepulchre from thrall; monument of Ariosto-at least it had this effect on me.
And revell'd among men and things divine,
And pour d my spirit over Palestine, There are two inscriptions, one on the outer gate, the second over the cell itself, inviting, unnecessarily, the The God who was on earth and is in heaven,
In honour of the sacred war for liim, wonder and the indiquation of the spectator. Ferrara is
For he hath strengthen'd me in heart and linıb. much decayed and depopulated; the castle still exists en
That through this sufferance I might be forgiven, tire; and I saw the court where Parisina and Hugo were beheaded, according to the anual of Gibbon.
I have employ'd my penance lo record
THE LAMENT OF TASSO.
But this is o'er-my pleasant task is done:
Nor cause for such: they call'd me inad--and why? Thy brother hates — but I can not detest,
Thou pitiest nol-but I can not forsake.
Look on a love which knows not to despair, Not less because I suffer it uobeni.
But all unquench'd is still my better part, That thou wert beautiful, and I not blind,
Dwelling deep in my shut and silent heart Hath been the sin which shuts me from mankind :
As dwells the gather'd lighting in its cloud, But let them go, or torture as they will,
Encompass'd with its dark and rolling shroud,
Till struck,-forth flies the all-ethereal dart! My heart can multiply thine image sull;
And thus at the collision of thy name Successful love may sate itself away,
The vivid thought sull tlashes through my frame. The wretched are the faithful; 't is their fate
And for a moment all things as they were To have all feeling save the one decay,
Flit by me;And every passion into one dilate,
;--they are gone--I am the same. As rapid rivers into ocean pour;
And yet my love without ambition grew;
I knew thy state, my station, and I koew
I told it not, I breathed it not, it was
Sufficient to itself, its own reward;
And if my eyes reveal'd it, they, alas! Of minds and bodies in captivity.
Were punishi'd by the silentness of thine, And hark! the lash and the increasing howl,
And yet I did not venture to repine. And the half inarticulate blasphemy!
Thou were to me a crystal-girded shrine, There be some here with worse than frenzy foul, Worshipp'd at holy distance, and around Some who do still goad on the o'er-labour'd mind, Hallow'd and meekly kissid the saintly ground; And dim the little light that's left behind
Not for thou wert a princess, but that love With needless torture, as their tyrant will
Had robed thee with a glory, and array'd Is wound up to the lust of doing ill:
Thy lineaments in beauty that dismay'd With these and with their victims am I class'd,
Oh! not dismay'd—but awed, like One above;
A something which all softness did surpassSo let it be--for then I shall repose.
I know not how-thy genius master'd mine-
Presumptuous thus to love without design,
That sad fatality hath cost me dear;
But thou art dearest still, and I should be I had forgotten half I would forget,
Fit for this cell, which wrongs me, but for thee. But it revives--oh! would it were my lot
The To be forgetful as I am forgot!
very love which lock'd me to my chain
llath lighten'd half its weight; and for the rest, Feel I not wroth with those who bade me dwell In this vast lazar-house of many woes!
Though heavy, lent me vigour to sustain,
And look to thee with undivided breast,
And foil the ingenuity of pain.
It is no marvel-from my very birth
My soul was drunk with love, which did pervade Which echoes Madness in her babbling moods ;- And mingle with whate'er I saw on earth ; While all can hear, none heed his neighbour's call- Of objects all inanimate I made None! save that Oue, the veriest wretch of all,
Idols, and out of wild and lonely flowers, Who was not made to be the mate of these,
And rocks, whereby they grew, a paradise, Nor bound between distraction and disease.
Where I did lay me down within the shade Feel I not wroth with those who placed me here? Of waving trees, and dream'd uncounted hours, Who have debased me in the minds of men,
Though I was chid for wandering; and the wise Debarring me the usage of my own,
Shook their white aged heads o'er me, and said Blighting my life in best of its carcer,
Of such materials wretched men were made, Branding my thoughts as things to shun and fear? And such a truant boy would end in woe, Would I not pay them back these pangs again, And that the only lesson was a blow; And teach them inward sorrow's stifled groan? And then they smole me, and I did not weep, The struggle to be calm, and cold distress,
But cursed them in my heart, and to my haunt Which undermines our stoical success?
Return'd and wept alone, and dream'd again No!-still too proud to be vindictive-1
The visions which arise without a sleep. Have pardou'd princes' insults, and would die.
And with my years my soul began to pant Yes, sister of my sovereign! for thy sake
With feelings of strange tumult and soft pain; I weed all bitterness from out my breast
And the whole heart exhaled into one want, It hath no business where thou art a guest,
But undefined and wandering, till the day