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So on I ramble, now and then narrating,

No wonder then that Yerinoloff, or Momonoff,
Now pondering: it is time we should narrate. Or Scherbatoff, or any other off
I left Don Juan, with his horses baiting-

Or on, might dread her Majesty had not room
Now we'll get o'er the ground at a great rate,

enough I shall not be particular in stating

Within her bosom (which was not too turgh) His journey, we've so many tours of late:

For a new flame; a thought to cast of gloom Suppose him then at Petersburg: suppose

enough That pleasant capital of painted snows:

Along the aspect, whether smooth or rough,

Of him who, in the language of his staiion,

Then held that 'high official situation.'
Suppose hiin in a handsome uniform ;
A scarlet coat, black facings, a long plume,

Waving, like sails new shiver'd in a storm,

O gentle ladies! should you seek to know
Over a cock'd hat, in a crowded room,

The import of this diplomatic phrase,
And brilliant breeches, bright as a cairngorm, Bid Ireland's Londonderry's Marquess* show
Of yellow casinere, we may presume,

His parts of speech; and, in the strange displays
Whitę stockings drawn, uncurdled as new milk, Of that odd string of words, all in a row,
O'er limbs whose symmetry set off the silk,

Which none divine, and every one obeys,

Perhaps you may pick out some queer 10 XLIV.

Suppose him, sword by side, and hat in hand,

Of that weak wordy harvest the sole gleaning.
Made up by youth, fame, and an army tailor-
That great enchanter, at whose rod's command

Beauty springs forth, and Nature's self turns I think I can explain inyself without

That sad inexplicable beast of prey-
Seeing how Art can make her work more grand

That Sphinx, whose words would ever be a doubt, (When she don't pin men's limbs in like a

Did not his deeds unriddle them each dayjailor)

That monstrous hieroglyphic--that long spout
Behold him placed as if upon a pillar! He

Of blood and water, leaden Castlereagh!
Seems Love turn d a lieutenant of artillery !

And here I must an anecdote relate,

But luckily of no great length or weight.
His bandage slipp'd down into a cravat;

His wings subdued to epaulettes; his quiver An English lady ask'd of an Italian
Shrunk to a scabbard, with his arrows at

What were the actual and official duties
His side as a small sword, but sharp as ever : Of the strange thing some women set a value on,
His bow converted into a cock'd hat:

Which hovers oft about some married beauties,
But still so like, that Psyche were more clever

Called 'Cavalier servente?' a Pygmalion Than some wives (who make blunders no less Whose statues warm (I fear, alas, too true 'tis) stupid),

Beneath his art. The dame, press'd to disclose If she had not mistaken him for Cupid.


Said, · Lady, I beseech you to suppose them,
The courtiers stared, the ladies whisper'd, and

The Empress smiled; the reigning favourite And thus I supplicate your supposition,

And mildest, matron-like interpretation
I quite forget which of them was in hand

Of the imperial favourite's condition.
Just then; as they are rather numerous found, 'Twas a high place, the highest in the nation,
Who took by turns that difficult command,

In fact, if not in rank; and the suspicion
Since first her Majesty was singly crown'd:

Of any one's attaining to his station,
But they were mostly nervous six-foot fellows, No doubt gave pain, where each new pair of
Al fit to make a Hatagonian jealous.


If rather broad, make stocks rise, and their holders.
Juan was none of these, but slight and slim,

Blushing and beardless; and yet ne'ertheless Juan, I said, was a most beauteous boy,
There was a something in his turn of limb,

And had retain'd his boyish look beyond
And still more in his eye, which seem'd to The usual hirsute seasons, which destroy,

With beards, and whiskers, and the like, the fond That though he look'd like one of the seraphim, Parisian aspect, which upset old Troy,

There lurk'd a man beneath the spirit's dress. And founded Doctors' Commons. I have conn'd Besides, the Empress sometimes liked a boy, The history of divorces, which, though chequer'd, And had just buried the fair-faced Lanskoi.

Calls Ilion's the first damages on record.

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# He was the grande passion of the grande Ca. tharine. See her Life, under the head of Lanskoi."

*This was written long before the suicide of that person.


Our veins, when things call'd sovereigns think it And Catharine, who loved all things (save her best lord,

To kill, and generals turn it into jest. Who was gone to his place), and pass'd for much,

LXI. Admiring those (by dainty dames abhorr'd)

The two first feelings ran their course complete, Gigantic gentlemen, yet had a touch

And lighted first her eye, and then her inouth: Of sentiment; and he she most adored

The whole court look'd immediately most sweet, Was the lamented Lanskoi, who was such

Like flowers well water'd after a long drought. A lover as had cost her many a tear,

But when on the lieutenant at her feet
And yet but made a middling grenadier.

Her Majesty, who liked to gaze on youth

Almost as much as on a new despatch,
O thou teterrima causa of all belli-

Glanced mildly, all the world was on the watch. Thou gate of life and death-thou nondescript,

Whence is our exit and our entrance,-well I
May pause in pondering how all souls are dipt

Though somewhat large, exuberant, and truculent, In thy perennial sountain : how man fell, I

When wroth; while pleased, she was as fine a Know not, since knowledge saw her branches

figure stript

As those who like things rosy, ripe, and succulent, Of her first fruit; but how he falls and rises

Would wish to look on while they are in vigour. Since, thou hast settled beyond all surmises.

She could repay each amatory look you lent

With interest, and in turn was wont with rigour LVI.

To exact of Cupid's bills the full amount
Some call thee the worst cause of war,' but I

At sight, nor would permit you to discount.
Maintain thou art the best ; for, after all,
From thee we come, to thee we go, and why

To get at thee not batter down a wall,

With her the latter, though at times convenient, Or waste a world, since no one can deny

Was not so necessary; for they tell Thou dost replenish worlds both great and small ? That she was handsome, and, though fierce, look'd With or without thee, all things at a stand

lenient, Are, or would be, thou sea of life's dry land!

And always used her favourites too well.

If once beyond her boudoir's precincts in ye went, LVII.

Your 'fortune' was in a fair way 'to swell Catharine, who was the grand epitome

A man' (as Giles says*); for, though she would Of that great cause of war, or peace, or what

widow all You please (it causes all the things which be,

Nations, she liked man as an individual.
So you inay take your choice of this or that)-
Catharine, I say, was very glad to see

The handsome herald, on whose plumage sat What a strange thing is man, and what a stranger
Victory; and, pausing as she saw him kneel

Is woman! What a whirlwind is her head! With his despatch, forgot to break the seal. And what a whirlpool, full of depth and danger, LVIII.

Is all the rest about her! Whether wed Then, recollecting the whole empress, nor

Or widow, maid or mother, she can change her

Mind like the wind : whatever she has said Forgetting quite the woman (which composed At least three parts of this great whole), she tore

Or done, is light to what she'll say or doThe letter open with an air which posed

The oldest thing on record, and yet new! The court that watch'd each look ner visage wore,

LXV. Until a royal smile at length disclosed

Oh Catharine (for of all interjections, Fair weather for the day. Though rather spacious, To thee both oh! and ah! belong of right, Her face was noble, her eyes fine, mouth gracious.

In love and war), how odd are the connections LIX.

Of human thoughts, which jostle in their flight ! Great joy was hers, or rather joys: the first

Just now yours were cut out in different sections: Was a ta'en city, thirty thousand slain.

First, Ismail's capture caught your fancy quite; Glory and triumph o'er her aspect burst,

Next, of new knights, the fresh and glorious batch; As an East Indian sunrise on the main.

And, thirdly, he who brought you the despatch! These quench'd a moment her ambition's thirst

So Arab deserts drink in summer's rain
In vain! As fall the dews on quenchless sands,

Shakspeare talks of the herald Mercury
Blood only serves to wash Ambition's hands.

New lighted on a heaven-kissing hill ;

And some such visions cross d her Majesty
Her next amusement was more fanciful.

While her young herald knelt before her still. She siniled at mad Suwarrow's rhymes, who threw

'Tis very true the hill seem'd rather high Into a Russian couplet, rather dull,

For a lieutenant to climb up, but skill
The whole gazette of thousands whom he slew.
Her third was feminine enough to annul

• His fortune swells him, it is rank, he's married.' The shudder which runs naturally througlı

-Sir Giles Overreach, in Massinger's New Way to
Pay Old Debts.

Smooth'd even the Simplon's steep, and by God's Except where 'tis a mere insanity, blessing,

[kissing.' A maddening spirit which would strive to blend With youth and health, all kisses are 'heaven- Itself with beauty's frail inanity,

On which the passion's self seems to depend; LXVII. Her Majesty look'd down, the youth look'd up

And hence some heathenish philosophers

Make love the main-spring of the universe.
And so they fell in love : she with his face,
His grace, his God-knows-what; for Cupid's cup

With the first draught intoxicates apace,

Besides Platonic love, besides the love A quintessential laudanum, or black drop,

Of God, the love of sentiment, the loving Which makes one drunk at once, without the base Of faithful pairs (I needs must rhyme with dove, Expedient of full bumpers; for the eye,

That good old steamboat which keeps verses In love, drinks all life's fountains (save tears) dry.

moving LXVIII.

'Gainst reason-reason ne'er was hand-and-glove He, on the other hand, if not in love,

With rhyme, but always leant les to improving Fell into that no less imperious passion,

The sound than sense); besides all these pretences Self-love, which, when some sort of thing above

To love, there are those things which words name Ourselves, a singer, dancer, much in fashion,

senses Or duchess, princess, empress, 'deigns to prove

LXXV. ('Tis Pope's phrase) a great longing, though a

Those movements, those improvements in our rash one,

bodies, For one especial person out of many,

Which make all bodies anxious to get out Makes us believe ourselves as good as any.

Of their own sand-pits, to mix with a goddess,

For such all women are at first, no loubt.

How beautiful that moment ! and how odd is Besides, he was of that delighted age

That fever which precedes the languid rout Which makes all female ages equal --when

Of our sensations! What a curious way We don't much care with whom we may engage,

The whole thing is, of clothing souls in clay! As bold as Daniel in the lions' den, So that we can our native sun assuage

1.XXVI. In the next ocean, which may flow just then,

The noblest kind of love is love Platonical, To make a twilight in, just as Sol's heat is

To end or to begin with; the next grand Quench'd in the lap of the salt sea, or Thetis. Is that which may be christen'd love canonical

Because the clergy take the thing in hand; L.XX.

The third sort, to be noted in our chronicle, And Catharine (we must say thus much for

As flourishing in every Christian land, Catharine),

Is, when chaste matrons to their other ties Though bold and bloody, was the kind of thing

Add what may be call'd marriage in disguise, Whose temporary passion was quite flattering, Because each lover look'd a sort of king,

LXXVII. Made up upon an amatory pattern

Well, we won't analyze; our story must A royal husband in all save the ring,

Tell for itself: the sovereign was smitten, Which, being the damn'dest part of matrimony, Juan much flatter'd by her love, or lustSeen'd taking out the sting to leave the honey. I cannot stop to alter words once written; LXXI.

And the two are so mix'd with human dust, And when you add to this her womanhood

That he who names one, both perchance may

hit on: In its meridian, her blue eyes grey

But in such matters Russia's mighty Empress (The last, if they have soul, are quite as good, Or better, as the best examples say:

Behaved no better than a comnion sempstress. Napoleon's, Mary's (Queen of Scotland), should

LXXVIII. Lend to that colour a transcendent ray;

The whole court melted into one wide whisper And Pallas also sanctions the same hue,

And all lips were applied unto all ears! Too wise to look through optics black or blue) The elder ladies' wrinkles curled much crisper, LXXII.

As they beheld; the younger cast some leers Her sweet smile, and her then majestic figure,

On one another, and each lovely lisper Her plumpness, her imperial condescension,

Smiled as she talk'd the matter o'er; but tears Her preference of a boy to men much bigger

of rivalship rose in each clouded eye (Fellows whom Messalina's self would pension),

Of all the standing army that stood by.
Her prime of life, just now in juicy vigour,

With other extras, which we need not mention : All the ambassadors of all the powers,
All these, or any one of these, explain

Inquired who was this very new young man, Enough to make a stripling very vain.

Who promised to be great in some few hours: LXXIII.

Which is full soon (though life is but a span). And that's enough, for love is vanity,

Already they beheld the silver showers Selfish in its beginning as its end,

Of roubles rain, as fast as specie can.

Upon his cabinet, besides the presents

It is to speculate on handsome faces,
Of several ribands, and some thousand peasants. Especially when such lead to high places.

Catharine was generous-all such ladies are ; Juan, who found himself, he knew not how,

Love, that great opener of the heart, and all A general object of attention, made
The ways that lead there, be they near or far, His answers with a very graceful bow,
Above, below, by turnpikes great or small-

As if born for the ministerial trade.
Love (though she had a cursed taste for war, Though modest, on his unembarrass'd brow
And was not the best wife, unless we call

Nature had written 'gentleinan.' He said Such Clytemnestra, though perhaps 'tis better Little, but to the purpose ; and his manner That one should die, than two drag on the fetter)- Flung hovering graces o'er him like a banner, LXXXI.

Love had made Catharine inake each lover's for. An order from her Majesty consigned

Unlike our own half-chaste Elizabeth, (tune, Our young lieutenant to the genial care
Whose avarice all disbursements did importune, Of those in office : all the world look'd kind
If history, the grand liar, ever saith

(As it will look sometimes with the first stare, The truth; and though grief her old age might Which youth would not act ill to keep in mind), shorten,

As also did Miss Protosoff then there, Because she put a favourite to death,

Named, from her mystic office, l'Eprouveuse,' Her vile, ambiguous method of flirtation,

A terin inexplicable to the Muse.
And stinginess, disgrace her sex and station.


With her then, as in humble duty bound,
But when the levée rose, and all was bustle

Juan retired-and so will I, until In the dissolving circle, all the nations

My Pegasus shall tire of touching ground. Ambassadors began as 'twere to hustle

We have just lit on a 'heaven-kissing hill,' Round the young man with their congratula- So lofty that I feel my brain turn round. tions.

And all my fancies whirling like a inill; Also the softer silks were heard to rustle

Which is a signal to my nerves and brain, Of gentle dames, among whose recreations To take a quiet ride in some green lane.


WHEN Newton saw an apple fall, he found,

In that slight startle from his contemplation'Tis said (for I'll not answer above ground

For any sage's creed or calculation)-
A mode of proving that the earth turn'd round

In a most natural whirl, call'd 'gravitation ;'
And this is the sole mortal who could grapple,
Since Adam, with a fall, or with an apple.

Man fell with apples, and with apples rose,

If this be true; for we must deem the mode
In which Sir Isaac Newton could disclose
Through the then unpaved stars the turnpike

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.

And wherefore this exordium? Why, just now,

In taking up this paltry sheet of paper,
My bosom underwent a glorious glow,

And my internal spirit cut a caper ;
And though so much inferior, as I know,

To those who, by the dint of glass and yapour,
Discover stars, and sail in the wind's eye,
I wish to do as much by poesy,

In the wind's eye I have sail'd, and sail; but for

The stars, I own my telescope is dim;
But at the least I've shunnd the common shore,

And, leaving land far out of sight, would skiin
The ocean of eternity: the roar

Of breakers has not daunted my slight trim,
But still sea-worthy, skiff; and she may float
Where ships have founder'd, as doth many a boat.

We left our hero, Juan, in the blooon

Of favouritism, but not yet in the blush ;
And far be it from my Muses to presume

(For I have more than one Muse, at a push) To follow him beyond the drawing-room;

It is enough that Fortune found him flush
Of youth and vigour, beauty, and those things
Which for an instant clip enjoyment's wings.

But soon they grow again, and leave their nest.

Oh !' saith the Psalmist, that I had a dove's
Pinions to flee away, and be at rest!'

And who that recollects young years and loves Though hoary now, and with a withering breast,

And palsied fancy, which no longer roves Beyond its dimm'd eye's sphere—but would much

rather Sigh like a son, than cough like his grandfather?


And honest men, from Iceland to Barbadoes,
But sighs subside, and tears (even widows') shrink, Whether in Caledon or Italy,
Like Arno, in the summer, to a shallow,

Should not veer round with every breath, nor seize
So narrow as to shame their wintry brink,

To pain, the moment when you cease to please.
Which threatens inundations deep and yellow!

Such difference do a few months make. You'd

The lawyer and the critic but behold

The baser sides of literature and life,
Grief a rich field that never would lie fallow :

And nought remains unseen, but much untold,
No more it doth ; its ploughs but change their boys,

By those who scour those double vales of strife.
Who furrow some new soil to sow for joys.

While coinmon men grow ignorantly old,

The lawyer's brief is like the surgeon's knife,
But coughs will come when sighs depart, and now

Dissecting the whole inside of a question,
And then before sighs cease ; for oft the one And with it all the process of digestion.
Will bring the other, ere the lake-like brow

Is ruffled by a wrinkle, or the sun
Of life reach'd ten o'clock; and while a glow,

A legal broom's a moral chimney-sweeper,
Hectic and brief as summer's day nigh done,

And that's the reason he himself's so dirty :
O'erspreads the cheek which seems too pure for

The endless soot* bestows a tint far deeper

Than can be hid by altering his shirt: he
Thousands blaze, love, hope, die-how happy they!

Retains the sable stains of the dark creeper

At least soine twenty-nine do out of thirty,

In all their habits; not so you, I own :
But Juan was not meant to die so soon.

As Cæsar wore his robe, you wear your gown.
We left himn in the focus of such glory
As may be won by favour of the moon

Or ladies' fancics-rather transitory,

And all our little feuds, at least all mine,
Perhaps; but who would scorn the month of Junc, Dear Jeffrey, once my most redoubted foe

Because December, with his breath so hoary, (As far as rhyme and criticism combine Must come ? Much rather should he court the ray, To make such puppets of us things below), To hoard up warmth against a wintry day.

Are over. Here's a health to 'Auld Lang Syne I'

I do not know you, and may never know
Besides, he had some qualities which fix

Your face--but you have acted, on the whole, * Middle-aged ladies even more than young : Most nobly; and I own it from my soul. The former know what's what; while new-fledged

Know little more of love than what is sung (chicks

And when I use the phrase of Auld Lang Syne,' In rhymes, or dreamt (for fancy will play tricks)

'Tis not address'd to you-the more's the pity In visions of those skies from whence love sprung

For me, for I would rather take my wine (city. Some reckon women by their suns or years:

With you, than aught (save Scott) in your proud I rather think the moon should date the dears,

But somehow-it may seem a schoolboy's whine, XI.

And yet I seek not to be grand or witty
And why? Because she's changeable and chaste.

But I am half a Scot by birth, and bred
I know no other reason, whatsoe'er

A whole one, and my heart flies to my head Suspicious people, who find fault in haste,

May choose to tax me with ; which is not fair,
Nor Aattering to their temper or their taste,'

As.Auld Lang Syne' brings Scotland, one and all,

Scotch plaids, Scotch snoods, the blue hills, and As my friend Jeffrey writes with such an air :

clear streams, However, I forgive him, and I trust He will forgive hinself;-if not, I must.

The Dee, the Don, Balgounie's brig's black wall,t

All my boy-feelings, all my gentler dreams

Of what I then dreamt, clothed in their own pall, Old enemies who have become new friends,

Like Banquo's offspring ; floating past me seems Should so continue--'tis a point of honour:

My childhood in this childishness of mine : And I know nothing which could make amends

I care not-'tis a glimpse of 'Auld Lang Syne.' For a return to hatred : I would shun her Like garlic, howsoever she extends

Her hundred arms and legs, and fain outrun her. Query: suit?--Printer's Devil. Old Names, new wives, become our bitterest foes- + The Brig of Don, near the Auld Toun' of Aber. Converted foes should scorn to join with those.

deen, with its one arch and its black deep salmon

stream below, is in my memory as yesterday. I still XIII.

remember, though perhaps I may misquote, the awful This were the worst desertion : renegadoes, proverb which made me pause to cross it, and yet

lean over it with a childish delight, being an only Even shuffling Southey, that incarnate lie,

son, at least by the mother's side. The saying, as Would scarcely join again the reformadoes," recollected by me, was this, but I have never heard Whom he forsook to fill the laureate's sty;

or seen it since I was nine years of age :

Brig of Balgounie, black's your wa', Reformers,' or rather Reformed.' The Baron Wi'a wife's ae son, and a mear's are foal, Pradwardine in Waverley is authority for the word.

Doun ye shall fa'l'

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