Small Triton of the minuows, » the sublime ་ Of mediocrity, the furious tame, The echo's echo, usher of the school Of female wits, boy bards-in short, a fool! LXXIV. A stalking oracle of awful phrase, ་ The approving « Good! » (by no means GOOD in law Humming like flies around the newest blaze, The bluest of bluebottles you e'er saw, Teasing with blame, excruciating with praise, Gorging the little fame he gets all raw, Translating tongues he knows not even by letter, And sweating plays so middling, bad were better. LXXV. One hates an author that's all author, fellows Of coxcombry's worst coxcombs e'en the pink These unquenched snuffings of the midnight taper. LXXVI. Of these same we see several, and of others, The would-be wits and can't be gentlemen, LXXVII. The poor dear Mussul women whom I mention Unknown as bells within a Turkish steeple; Our Christian usage of the parts of speech. No chemistry for them unfolds her gasses, Religious novels, moral tales, and strictures No exhibition glares with annual pictures; Why I thank God for that is no great matter, And yet methinks the older that one grows LXXX. Oh! mirth and innocence ! Oh! milk and water! His thirst with such pure beverage. No matter, LXXXI. Our Laura's Turk still kept his eyes upon her, Less in the Mussulman than Christian way, Which seems to say, « Madam, I do you honour, And while I please to stare, you'll please to stay. » Could staring win a woman, this had won her, But Laura could not thus be led astray, She had stood fire too long and well, to boggle Even at this stranger's most outlandish ogle. LXXXII. The morning now was on the point of breaking, To make their preparations for forsaking The ball-room ere the sun begins to rise, Because when once the lamps and candles fail, His blushes make them look a little pale. LXXXIII. I've seen some balls and revels in my time, And staid them over for some silly reason, And then I looked (I hope it was no crime) To see what lady best stood out the season; And though I've seen some thousands in their prime, Lovely and pleasing, and who still may please on, I never saw but one (the stars withdrawn), Whose bloom could after dancing dare the dawn. LXXXIV. The name of this Aurora I'll not mention, You still may mark her check, out-blooming all. Laura, who knew it would not do at all To meet the daylight after seven hours sitting Among three thousand people at a ball, To make her curtsy thought it right and fitting; The count was at her elbow with her shawl, And they the room were on the point of quitting, In this they're like our coachmen, and the cause The count and Laura found their boat at last, beside ; Some little scandals eke: but all aghast (As to their palace stairs the rowers glide ) Sate Laura by the side of her adorer, When lo! the Mussulman was there before her. ་་ LXXXVIII. Sir,» said the count, with brow exceeding grave, «Your unexpected presence here will make << It necessary for myself to crave << Its import? But perhaps 'tis a mistake; << I hope it is so ; and at once to wave « All compliment, I hope so for your sake ; «You understand my meaning, or you shall. » Sir,» (quoth the Turk) « 'tis no mistake at all; LXXXIX. « That lady is my wife! » Much wonder paints They only call a little on their saints, And then come to themselves, almost or quite ; Which saves much hartshorn, salts, and sprinkling faces, And cutting stays, as usual in such cases. XC. She said,-what could she say? Why not a word: The stranger, much appeased by what he heard: Said he,« don't let us make ourselves absurd « In public, by a scene, nor raise a din, « For then the chief and only satisfaction « Will be much quizzing on the whole transaction. » |