LXXVIII. But I'm too late, and therefore must make play. LXXIX. The squires familiarly formal, and My lords and ladies proudly condescending; The very servants puzzling how to hand Their plates-without it might be too much bending From their high places by the sideboard's standYet, like their masters, fearful of offending. For any deviation from the graces Might cost both man and master too—their places. LXXX. There were some hunters bold, and coursers keen, Whose hounds ne'er err'd, nor greyhounds deign'd to lurch; Some deadly shots too, Septembrizers, seen LXXXI. There were some country wags too-and, alas! Some exiles from the town, who had been driven To gaze, instead of pavement, upon grass, And rise at nine in lieu of long eleven. I sate next that o'erwhelming son of heaven, LXXXII. I knew him in his livelier London days, A brilliant diner out, though but a curate; And not a joke he cut but earn'd its praise, Until preferment, coming at a sure rate, (O Providence! how wondrous are thy ways! Who would suppose thy gifts sometimes obdurate?) Gave him, to lay the devil who looks o'er Lincoln, A fat fen vicarage, and nought to think on. LXXXIII. His jokes were sermons, and his sermons jokes ; pens To hammer a hoarse laugh from the thick throng. (1) [Query, Sidney Smith, author of Peter Plimley's Letters? - PRINT. ER'S DEVIL.] LXXXIV. There is a difference, says the song, "between A difference between crockery ware and plate, As between English beef and Spartan broth— And yet great heroes have been bred by both. LXXXV. But of all nature's discrepancies, none Upon the whole is greater than the difference Beheld between the country and the town, Of which the latter merits every preference From those who have few resources of their own, And only think, or act, or feel, with reference To some small plan of interest or ambition. Both which are limited to no condition. LXXXVI. But" en avant!" The light loves languish o'er (1) ["There's a difference between a beggar and a queen; A queen does not swagger, nor get drunk like a beggar, (2) [Sine Cerere et Baccho friget Venus. — ADAG.] LXXXVII. Dully past o'er the dinner of the day; And Juan took his place, he knew not where, Confused, in the confusion, and distrait, And sitting as if nail'd upon his chair: Though knives and forks clang'd round as in a fray, He seem'd unconscious of all passing there, Till some one, with a groan, exprest a wish (Unheeded twice) to have a fin of fish. LXXXVIII. On which, at the third asking of the bans, A wise man more than laughter from a dunce— And with such hurry, that ere he could curb it, LXXXIX. This was no bad mistake, as it occurr'd, The supplicator being an amateur; But others, who were left with scarce a third, Were angry -as they well might, to be sure. Had fallen last market, cost his host three votes. VOL. XVII. XC. They little knew, or might have sympathised, That one scarce knew at what to marvel most Of two things-how (the question rather odd is) Such bodies could have souls, or souls such bodies. XCI. But what confused him more than smile or stare From all the 'squires and 'squiresses around, Who wonder'd at the abstraction of his air, Especially as he had been renown'd For some vivacity among the fair, Even in the country circle's narrow bound(For little things upon my lord's estate Were good small talk for others still less great) — XCII. Was, that he caught Aurora's eye on his, In those who rarely smile, their smile bespeaks A strong external motive; and in this Smile of Aurora's there was nought to pique |