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When time has pour'd his warm and soften- While I, deserted, the cold pangs deplore, ing glow
Or breathe the wrath which slighted beauty O'er that pale virgin's * throbbing breast of feels. snow,
When first I entered glad, with glad mamma, And lent the settled majesty of years
The girls were ranged and clustered round Tothose grim Spahis and those proud viziers;
us then ;
Unknowing Dandies that could come at ten.
sure, As the writer of the present notice
And undissembled triumph wreathed my intends to publish in a separate form
face. the poetical verses of Odoherty, with authentic portraits of his friends, it is Fancy prospective took a proud survey not necessary to quote any more of Even where I stood my legs began to play
Of all the coming glories of the night ; these effusions now. The pleasantry So racers paw the turf e'er jockeys smite. of the Ensign was always harmless, and his very satire was both dart and And“ who shall be my partner first ?” I balsam. He never condescended to
As my thoughts glided o'er the coming personalities, except in one solitary
beaux ; instance, in a song, entitled, “ The
“ Not Tom, nor Ned, nor Jack,"-I toss. Young Man of the West," composed
ed my head, upon Mr James Grahame, the famous Nice grew my taste, and high my scorn Anti-Malthusian philosopher. This song he used to sing with great hum
“ If Dicky asks me, I shall spit and sprain ; our, to the tune of “ A Cobler there when Sam approaches, headachs I will was, &c.” but though frequently urg
mention ; ed to do so, he never would print it; I'll freeze the colonel's heart with cold disand on his own manuscript copy there
dain :" is this note, “ Let the Young ilan of Thus cruelly ran on my glib invention. the West be destroyed,” an injunction while yet my fancy revelled in her dreams, which has since been scrupulously The sets are forming, and the fiddles scrapcomplied with.
ing; During one of those brilliant even Gow's wakening chord a stirring prelude ings at the Dilettanti, which, says our bard in a letter to the present writer, The beaux are quizzing, and the misses “ will for ever live in the memory of
gaping all who enjoyed them,” the conversa Beau after beau approaches, bows, and tion ran upon the Italian improvisa
smiles, tori. Odoherty remarked, that the Quick to the dangler's arm springs glad power which appeared to many so
ma'aimselle; wonderful, was no way uncommon,
Pair after pair augments the sparkling files, and offered to recite, or write down
And full upon my ear “ THE TRIUMPH"
swells. currente calamo, a poem upon any given subject. The president proposed I flirt my fan in time with the mad fiddle, « An Elegy, by a Young Lady in a
My eye pursues the dancers' motions flying ; Ball-room disappointed of a Partner," Cross hands ! Balancez ! down and up the
The tune unending, ever full the set.
At last a pause there comes
to Gow's keen The beaux are jogging on the pictured floor, hand The belles responsive trip with lightsome The hurrying lacky hands the enlivening heels;
The misses sip the ices where they stand, • Circassian captive.
And gather vigour to renew the sport.
I round the room dispense a wistful glance, female hand on hot-pressed gilt paper,
ing object of the poem :
There was a time when every sort of people
But now a joker's stared at, like a steeple,
By the majority of Christian folks.
Dulness has tanned her hide to thickness
When you've been known a comic song to
('Cleped, in the Bailie's lingo, “ the Good
Town;" fatigued, I see ;"
But styled “ Auld Reekie” by all Celts now “ What a long dance !" “ And so you're treading come to town!”
Her streets, bows, wynds, lanes, crescents, Such casual whispers are addressed to me,
up and down, But not one hint to lead the next set down. Her labyrinths of stairs and closes threading The third, the fourth, the fifth, the sixth, Those bandy, broad-faced, rough-kneed,
On other people's business or their ownare gone,
ragged laddies And now the seventh- and yet I'm asked
Those horny-fisted, those gill-swigging cad. not once !
This Edinburgh some call Metropolis, Mamma supports me to the room for mun And Capital, and Athens of the North ching,
I know not what they mean. I'm sure of There turkey's breast she crams, and wing
this, of pullet ;
Tho' she abounds in men of sense and worth, I slobbering jelly, and hard nuts am crunch Her staple and predominant qualities ing,
Are ignorance, and nonsense, and so forth; And pouring tuns of trifle down my gullet.
I don't like making use of a hard word,
But 'tis the merest hum I ever heard.
Poet and cavalier, kind, generous, true. Ye vapid Dandies! how
There's Jeffrey, who has been the botheration all !
you Green slender slips, with pale cheese-pairing of the whole world with his glib sharp Review, features,
And made most young Scots lawyers mad And awkward, lumbring, red-faced boobies
There's Leslie, Stewart, Alison, and Gregory. Strange compounds of the beau and the at But these and some few others being named, torney!
I don't remember one more great gun in her; Raw lairds ! and school-boys for a whisker The remanent population can't be blamed, shaying!
Because their chief concern in life's their May injured beauty's glance of fury burn ye!
dinner. I hate you-clowns and fools !but hah! To give examples I should be ashamed, -I'm raving!
And people would cry,“ Lord ! that wicked We shall now take leave, for the (For all we gentry here are quite egg-shells,
sinner!” present, of Odoherty and the Dilet- We can't endure jokes that come near “oortanti Society, with an extract from his longest and latest poem, entitled “Young's Night Thoughts” (a hu- They say that knowledge is diffused and morous allusion to the before-men
general, tioned celebrated tavern). Lively as
And taste and understanding are so common, this strain is, we can scarcely read it Than listen to a criticising woman.
I'd rather see a sweep-boy suck a penny roll, without tears; for it was, we repeat, And as for poetry, the time of dinner all, the very last of his works here below. Thank God, I then have better things to do. The following proem, copied by a man,
Exceptions 'gainst the fair were coarse and Down Prince's Street I once or twice paraded, shocking
And gazed upon these same eternal faces ; I've seen in brecches many a true blue Those beardless beaux and bearded belles, stocking
those faded Blue Stocking stands, in my vocabulary,
And flashy silks, surtouts, pelisses, laces ; For one that always chatters (sex is nothing) Those crowds of clerks, astride on hackneys About new books from June to January,
jaded, And with re-echoed carpings moves your Dreaming enthusiasts who indulge vain
Prancing and capering with notorial grace ; loathing.
whimsies, I like to see young people smart and airy, That they might pass in Bond Street or St With well dressed hair and fashionable
James's. clothing, Can't they discourse about ball, rout, or play; -One to a herring in his lonely shop,
I saw equestrian and pedestrian vanish And know reviewing's quite out of their way? And some of kind gregarious, and more It strikes me as a thing exceeding stupid,
clanish, This conversation about books, books, bnoks, To club at Waters' for a mutton-chop ; When I was young, and sat midst datusels Myself resolved for once my cares to banish, grouped,
And give the Cerberus of thought a sop, I talked of roses, zephyrs, gurgling brooks, Got Jack's, and Sam's, and Dick's, and Venus, the Graces, Dian, Hymen, Cupid,
Tom's consent, Perilous glances, soul-subduing looks, And o'er the Mound to Billy Young's we Slim tapering fingers, glossy clustering curls, Diamonds and emeralds, cairngorms and
I ar not nice, I care not what I dine on, pearls.
A sheep's head or beef-steak is all I wish; On Una that made sunshine in the shade, Old Homer! how he loved the sgu@ggy orvov And Emily with eye of liquid jet,
It is the glass that glorifies the dish. And gentle Desdemona, and the maid The thing that I have always set my mind on That sleeps within the tomb of Capulet (A small foundation laid of fowl, flesh, fish) Hearts love to ponder-would it not degrade is out of bottle, pitcher, or punch-bowl, Our notion of a nymph like Juliet, To suck reviving solace to my soul. To be informed that she had just
read thro' Life's a dull dusty desert, waste and drear, Last Number of the Edinburgh Review ? With now and then an oasis between, Leave ye to dominies and sticker stibblers, Where palm-trees rise, and fountains gush. And all the sedentary generation, The endless chitter-chatter about scribblers, Burst 'neath the shelter of that leafy screen ; And England's melancholy situation. Haste not your parting steps, when such apLet them be still the customary nibblers
pear, Of all that rule or edify the nation ;
Repose, ye weary travellers, on the green, Leave off the corn-bill, and the law of libel, Horace and Milton, Dante, Burns, and And read the Pilgrim's Progress or your Bible.
Schiller, From the poem itself we quote
Dined at a tavern-when they had “ the
siller." the following stanzas, without any remarks, convinced that their simple And ne'er did poet, epical or tragical,
At Florence, London, Weimar, Rome, Mayelegance and unaffected grace stand
bole, in no need of the critics recommend. See time's dark lanthern glow with hues ation.
more magical I rose this morning about half past nine, Than I have witnessed in the Coffin-hole. At Breakfast coffee I consumed pour quatre, Praise of antiquity a bam and fudge I-call, Unnumbered rolls enriched with marmalade Ne'er past the present let my wishes roll ; fine,
A fig for all comparing, croaking grumblers, And little balls of butter dished in water, Hear me, dear dimpling Billy, bring the Three eggs, two plateful of superb cold chine
tumblers. (Much recommended to make thin folks Let blank verse hero, or Spenserian rhymer, fatter);
Treat Donna Musa with chateau-margout, And having thus my ballast stow'd on board, Chateau-la-filte, Johannisberg, Hocheimer, Roamed forth to kill a day's time like a lord. In tall outlandish glasses green and blue. How I contrived to pass the whole forenoon, Thanks to my stars, myself,a doggrel-chimer, I can't remember though my life were on it; Have nothing with such costly tastes to do ; I helped G. T, in jotting of a tune, My muse is always kindest when I court her, And hinted rhymes to G--s for a sonnet; O'er whisky-punch, gin-twist, strong beer Called at the Knox's shop with Niiss Balloon, And heard her ipsa dixit on a bonnet ; And O, my pipe, though in these Dandy days Thich washed my mouth with ices, tarts, Few love thee, fewer still their love confess, and fummeries,
Ne'er let me blush to celebrate thy praise, And ginger-becr and soda, at Montgomery's. Divine invention of the age of Bess!
I for a moment interrupt my lays
But then the smoke's too near the eye by far,
And if your leaf have got a straw within it,
I have no doubt a long excursiye hooker mer,
Suits well some lordly lounger of Bengal, Or snowy clay of Gowda, light and pure. Who never writes, or looks into a book, or Let different people different pipes prefer, Does any thing with earnestness at all : Delft, horn, or catgut, long, short, older, He sits, and his tobacco's in the nook, or newer,
Tended by some black heathen in the hall, Puff, every brother, as it likes him best,
Lays up his legs, and thinks he does great De gustibus non disputandum est.
If once in the half hour a puff he brings.
I rather follow in my smoking trim
The example of Scots cottars and their
Who, while the evening air is warm and dim, of the full cup from Meux’s vat that flows, And, gazing all the while with wrinkles grim,
In July sit beside their garden hives;
To see how the concern of honey thrives,
Empty before they've done a four-ounce bag I've no objections to a good segar,
Of sailors' twist, or, what's less common A true Havannah, smooth, and moist, and shag. brown;
(To be continued.)
leafy s -hen su
[The two following classical jeux d'esprit are extracted from the works of the Rev Francis Wrangham (3 vols 8vo. Baldwin & Co. London, 1816), one of the most accomplished of our living English scholars, and distinguished at the university of Cambridge as the successful competitor of the celebrated Tweddell. We intend, in an early Number, to offer some remarks on that class of writers of which we consider him an hon. ourable representative. EDITOR.]
, rome, I
Παντοιων στοματων λαλον εικονα, ποιμεσιν ηδυ
Ερω ταχα. .
All a quiz!
" I hate you."
But what, if he should chance to meet our navy?
Rot 'em, I say
-Quæ nec reticere loquenti,
Nec prior ipsa loqui potuit.
Ape! Her present taste, for blood and riot eager.
Tigre! Tell, of what God her sons are now the votaries;
Agns. And whose before, so wolvish grown and ravenous : Venus. Wretches, as changeful as the changing ocean !
( chiens !
Πελεκκα. Au roi, qui les aimoit, ils ont frappé le cou
. Ma sotto i ré erano sempre allégri. Τις δει τοσης αυτοις ενεπνευσ' Υπατε θρησκειαν και
All arm. Then, Englishmen, rush to the field, 'tis your duty: Δευτε. . Be no longer the dupes of an Amiens truce.
Ruse! (Ην δολος, και φιλια τα δ' εκ φρενος ηλυθεν αυτος και
Otto's.) Furem ego contundam, qui te rapere audet, agelle :
To a jelly.
At her own ease.
Apollyon ! (Scilicet hunc Anglus vocat, hunc Hebræus Abaddon ! *
A bad one.)
LETTER FROM GLASGOW.
he wants discretion. Instead of giving
his powers fair play on some subject
of general interest, he has let himself
is quite impossible to defend or justify.
Some silly people would fain consider I beg leave to offer a few observations these personalities gross and insulting. on the second letter of Dr Nicol Jarvie, That is by no means the case. But which has lately made so much noise they are, what Dr Nicol Jarvie perhaps in this city. The doctor is a wag, and does not suspect them to be, very possesses a genuine vein of humour, childish, or rather, to use an expressive which, under good management, could Scots woril, unco bairnly.” There not fail of amusing the public. But, is also some indelicacy in printing at like too many wits of the present day, full length the christian and surnames