XLVIII. I like the taxes, when they're not too many; Have no objection to a pot of beer; XLIX. Our standing army, and disbanded seamen, L. But to my tale of Laura,-for I find And, therefore, may the reader too displease- LI. Oh that I had the art of easy writing What should be easy reading! could I scale Parnassus, where the Muses sit inditing Those pretty poems never known to fail, How quickly would I print (the world delighting) A Grecian, Syrian, or Assyrian tale; And sell you, mix'd with western sentimentalism, Some samples of the finest Orientalism. VOL. I. LII. But I am but a nameless sort of person, (A broken Dandy lately on my travels) LIII. The Count and Laura made their new arrangement, Those jealous whiffs, which never any change meant; Who have not had this pouting sort of squabble, LIV. But, on the whole, they were a happy pair, As happy as unlawful love could make them; The gentleman was fond, the lady fair, Their chains so slight, 'twas not worth while to break them: The world beheld them with indulgent air; The pious only wish'd "the devil take them!' He took them not; he very often waits, And leaves old sinners to be young ones' baits. LV. But they were young: Oh! what without our youth Would love be! What would youth be without love! Youth lends it joy, and sweetness, vigour, truth; Heart, soul, and all that seems as from above; But, languishing with years, grows uncouth One of few things experience don't improve, Which is, perhaps, the reason why old fellows Are always so preposterously jealous, LVI. It was the Carnival, as I have said Some six and thirty stanzas back, and so Laura the usual preparations made, Which you do when your mind's made up to go To-night to Mrs. Boehm's masquerade, Spectator, or partaker in the show; The only difference known between the cases LVII. Laura, when dress'd, was (as I sang before) Or frontispiece of a new Magazine, With all the fashions which the last month wore, LVIII. They went to the Ridotto;--'tis a hall Where people dance, and sup, and dance again; Its proper name, perhaps, were a masqued ball, But that's of no importance to my strain; 'Tis (on a smaller scale) like our Vauxhall, Excepting that it can't be spoilt by rain; The company is "mixed" (the phrase I quote is As much as saying, they're below your notice); LIX. For a "mix'd company" implies that, save The fashionable stare of twenty score . LX. This is the case in England; at least was The demagogues of fashion: all below LXI. Crush'd was Napoleon by the northern Thor, A blundering novice in his new French_grammar; Good cause had he to doubt the chance of war, And as for Fortune-but I dare not d-n her, Because, were I to ponder to infinity, The more I should believe in her divinity.19 LXII. She rules the present, past, and all to be yet, To turn, LXIII. and to return;-the devil take it! This story slips for ever through my fingers, Because, just as the stanza likes to make it, It needs must be-and so it rather lingers; This form of verse began, I can't well break it, But must keep time and tune like public singers; But if I once get through my present measure, I'll take another when I'm next at leisure, LXIV. They went to the Ridotto ('tis a place Because I'm rather hippish, and may borrow May lurk beneath each mask; and as my sorrow Slackens its pace sometimes, I'll make, or find, Something shall leave it half an hour behind.) LXV. Now Laura moves along the joyous crowd, To some she curtsies, and to some she dips, LXVI. One has false curls, another too much paint, A third-where did she buy that frightful turban? A fourth's so pale she fears she's going to faint, A fifth's look's vulgar, dowdyish, and suburban, A sixth's white silk has got a yellow taint, A seventh's thin muslin surely will be her bane, And lo! an eighth appears,-"I'll see no more!" For fear, like Banquo's kings, they reach a score. LXVII. Meantime, while she was thus at others gazing, |