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He at last brings the cramps on,
That will twist you like Samson.
So without further blethring,
Dear mudlarks! my brethren !
Of all scents and degrees,
(Yourselves and your shes)
Forswear all cabal, lads,
Wakes, unions, and rows,

Hot dreams, and cold salads,

And don't pig in styes that would suffocate sows ! Quit Cobbett's, O'Connell's and Beelzebub's

banners,

And whitewash at once bowels, rooms, hands, and manners!

COLOGNE.

IN Köhln, a town of monks and bones,

And pavements fang'd with murderous stones,
And rags, and hags, and hideous wenches ;
I counted two and seventy stenches,

All well defined, and several stinks !
Ye Nymphs that reign o'er sewers and sinks,
The river Rhine, it is well known,

Doth wash your city of Cologne ;

But tell me, Nymphs! what power divine

Shall henceforth wash the river Rhine?

ON MY JOYFUL DEPARTURE

FROM THE SAME CITY.

As I am rhymer,

And now at least a merry one,

Mr. Mum's Rudesheimer

And the church of St. Geryon

Are the two things alone

That deserve to be known

In the body and soul-stinking town of Cologne.

WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM.

PARRY seeks the polar ridge;

Rhymes seeks S. T. Coleridge,

Author of works, whereof-though not in Dutch-
The public little knows-the publisher too much.

METRICAL FEET.

LESSON FOR A BOY.

TROCHÉE trips from lōng to shōrt;
From long to long in solemn sort

Slōw Spōndee stālks; strōng foot! yet ill able
Evěr to come up with Dactyl trisyllǎblě.
Ĭāmbics march from shōrt tŏ lõng ;-

With ǎ leap ǎnd ǎ bound the swift Anăpăsts thrōng;
One syllable long, with one short at each side,
Amphibrǎchys hastes with ǎ stately stride ;--
First and last being lōng, middle shōrt, Amphi-

măcer

Strikes his thundering hoofs like å proud high

bred Racer.

If Derwent be innocent, steady, and wise,

And delight in the things of earth, water, and skies;

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Tender warmth at his heart, with these metres to

show it,

With sound sense in his brains, may make Derwent a poet,―

May crown him with fame, and must win him the

love

Of his father on earth and his Father above.

My dear, dear child!

Could you stand upon Skiddaw, you would not from its whole ridge

See a man who so loves you as your fond S. T. COLERIDGE.

THE HOMERIC HEXAMETER

DESCRIBED AND EXEMPLIFIED.*

STRONGLY it bears us along in swelling and limitless billows,

Nothing before and nothing behind but the sky and the Ocean.

THE OVIDIAN ELEGIAC METRE

DESCRIBED AND EXEMPLIFIED.*

IN the hexameter rises the fountain's silvery co

lumn;

In the pentameter aye falling in melody back.

* Translated from Schiller. Printed in Friendship's Offering, 1834.

TO THE YOUNG ARTIST,

KAYSER OF KASERWERTH.

KAYSER! to whom, as to a second self,
Nature, or Nature's next-of-kin, the Elf,
Hight Genius, hath dispensed the happy skill
To cheer or soothe the parting friend's Alas!
Turning the blank scroll to a magic glass,
That makes the absent present at our will;
And to the shadowing of thy pencil gives
Such seeming substance, that it almost lives.

Well hast thou given the thoughtful Poet's face!
Yet hast thou on the tablet of his mind
A more delightful portrait left behind-
Even thy own youthful beauty, and artless grace,
Thy natural gladness and eyes bright with glee !
Kayser! farewell!

Be wise! be happy! and forget not me.

1833.

JOB'S LUCK.*

SLY Beelzebub took all occasions

To try Job's constancy and patience;
He took his honours, took his health,
He took his children, took his wealth,
His camels, horses, asses, cows—

And the sly Devil did not take his spouse.

* Printed in The Morning Post, Sept. 26, 1801, with the title of The Devil Outwitted; and somewhat differently in The Keepsake for 1829.

But Heaven that brings out good from evil,
And loves to disappoint the Devil,
Had predetermined to restore
Twofold all Job had before,

His children, camels, horses, cows,—
Short-sighted Devil, not to take his spouse!

ON AN INSIGNIFICANT.

'TIS Cypher lies beneath this crust—

Whom Death created into dust.

PROFUSE KINDNESS.

Νήπιοι οὐκ ἴσασιν ὅσῳ πλέον ἡμισυ πάντος.—Hesiod. WHAT a spring-tide of Love to dear friends in

a shoal!

Half of it to one were worth double the whole!

CHARITY IN THOUGHT.

To praise men as good, and to take them for such, Is a grace, which no soul can mete out to a

tittle;—

Of which he who has not a little too much,

Will by Charity's gauge surely have much too little.

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