XL. How will-to these young people, just thrust out From some fresh paradise, and set to plough, And dig, and sweat, and turn themselves about, And plart, and reap, and spin, and grind, and sow, Till all the arts at length are brought about, Especially of war and taxing-how, I say, will these great relics, when they see 'em, XLI. But I am apt to grow too metaphysical: "The time is out of joint,"-and so am I ; 1 quite forget this poem's merely quizzical, And deviate into matters rather dry. I ne'er decide what I shall say, and this I call Much too poetical: men should know why They write, and for what end; but, note or text, I never know the word which will come next. XLII. So on I ramble, now and then narrating, Now pondering:-it is time we should narrate: [ left Don Juan with his horses baitingNow we'll get o'er the ground at a great rate. I shall not be particular in stating His journey, we've so many tours of late: Suppose him then at Petersburgh; suppose That pleasent capital of painted snows; XLIII. Suppose him in a handsome uniform; A scarlet coat, black facings, a long plume, Waving, like sails new shivered in a storm, Over a cock'd hat in a crowded room, And brilliant breeches, bright as a Cairn Gorme, Of yellow kerseymere we may presume, White stockings drawn, uncurdled as new milk, O'er limbs whose symmetry set off the silk. XLIV. Suppose him, sword by side, and hat in hand, (When she don't pin men's limbs in like a jailer Behold him placed upon a pillar! He Seems Love turn'd a lieutenant of artillery. XLV. His bandage slipp'd down into a cravat; His wings subdued to epaulets; his quiver Shrunk to a scabbard, with his arrows at His side as a small-sword, but sharp as ever; His bow converted into a cock'd hat; But still so like, Psyche were more clever Than some wives (who make blunders no less stupid) If she had not mistaken him for Cupid. XLVI. The courtiers stared, the ladies whisper'd, and The empress smiled; the reigning favourite frown'd I quite forget which of them was in hand Since first her majesty was singly crown'd: XLVII. Juan was none of these, but slight and slim, There lurk'd a man beneath the spirit's dress. XLVIII. No wonder then that Yermoloff, or Momonoff, Or Scherbatoff, or any other of Or on, might dread her majesty had not room enough XLIX Oh, gentle ladies! should you seek to know Which none divine, and every one obeys, Perhaps you may pick out some queer no-meaning Of that weak wordy harvest the sole gleaning. L. I think I can explain myself without LI. An English lady ask'd of an Italian, What were the actual and official duties Whose statues warm (I fear, alas! too true 't is) Beneath his art. The dame, press'd to disclose them Said "Lady, I beseech you to suppose them." LII. And thus I supplicate your supposition, Of the imperial favourite's condition. 'T was a high place, the highest in the nation In fact, if not in rank; and the suspicion Of any one's attaining to his station, No doubt gave pain, where each new pair of shoulders If rather broad, made stocks rise and their holders. LIII. Juan, I said, was a most beauteous boy, And had retain'd his boyish look beyond The usual hirsu.e seasons, which destroy, With beards and whiskers and the like, the fond Parisian aspect which upset old Troy And founded Doctors' Commons:-I have conn'i The history of divorces, which, though chequer'd Calls Ilion's the first damages on record. LIV. And Catherine, who loved all things, (save her lord, LV. Oh, thou "teterrima causa" of all "belli!"- Know not, since knowledge saw her branches strip'd LVI. Some call thee "the worst cause of war," but I Thou dost replenish worlds both great and small: With, or without thee, all things at a stand Are, or would be, thou sea of life's dry land! LVII. Catherine, who was the grand epitome Of that great cause of war, or peace, or what You please, (it causes all the things which be, So you may take your choice of this or that)Catherine, I say, was very glad to see The handsome herald, on whose plumage sat Victory; and, pausing as she saw him kneel With his despatch, forgot to break the seal. And when you add to this, her womanhood In its meridian, her blue eyes, or gray That she was handsome, and, tho' fierce, look'd lenient, (The last, if they have soul, are quite as good, And always used her favourites too well. If once beyond her boudoir's precincts in ye went, Your "fortune" was in a fair way "to swell Or better, as the best examples say: Napoleon's, Mary's (Queen of Scotland) shou.d Lend to that colour a transcendent ray; A man," as Giles says; for, though she would widow all And Pallas also sanctions the same hueNations, she liked man as an individual. Too wise to look through opticks black or blue)— 576 11. Mafell with apples, and with apples rose, Through the then unpaved stars, the turnpike road, A thing to counterbalance human woes; For, ever since, immortal man hath glow'd With all kinds of mechanics, and full soon Steam-engines will conduct him to the moon. X. Besides, he had some qualities which fix In rhymes, or dream'd, (for fancy will play tricks,) I rather think the moon should date the dears. And why? because she 's changeable and chaste. May choose to tax me with; which is not fair, As my friend Jeffrey writes with such an air: He will forgive himself;-if not, I must XII. Old enemies who have become new friends Should so continue-'t is a point of honour; Her hundred arms and legs, and fain outrun her XIII. This were the worst desertion: renegadoes, Even shuffling Southey-that incarnate lie— Should not veer round with every breath, nor seiza, XIV. |