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AN APOSTROPHIC HYMN.
Qualis in Eurotze ripis, aut per juga Cynthi, *Exercet Diana choros.'
Such on Eurotas' banks, or Cynthia's height,
TO THE PUBLISHER. SIR, -I am a country gentleman of a midland county. I might have been a Parliament man for a certain borough; having had the offer of as many votes as General T. at the general election in 1812.. But I was all for domestic happiness; as, fifteen years ago, on a visit to London, Í married a middle-aged maid of honour. We lived happily at Hornem Hall till last season, when my wife and I were invited by the Countess of Waltzaway (a distant relation of my spouse) to pass the winter in town. Thinking no harm, and our girls being come to a marriageable (or, as they call it, marketable) ago, and having besides a Chancery suit inveterately entailed tipon the family estate, we came up in our old chariot ; of which, by the by, my wife grew so much ashamed in less than a week, that I was obliged to buy a second-hand barouche, of which I might mount the box, Mrs. H. says, if I could drive, but never see the inside--that place being reserved for the Honourable Augustus Tiptoe, her partner-general and opera-knight. Heating great praises of Mrs. H.'s dancing (she was famous for birthnight minuets in the latter end of the last century), I unbooted, and went to a ball at the Countess's, expecting to see à country dance, or, at most, cotillons, reels, and all the old paces to the newest tunes. But judge of my surprise, on arriving, to see poor dear Mrs. Hornem with her arms half round the loins of a huge hussar-looking gentleman I never set eyes on before: and his, to say truth, rathct more than half round her waist, turning round, and round, and round, to a d- d see-saw up-and-down sort of tune, that reminded me of the Black Joke,' only more 'af'ctuoso,' till it made me quite giddy with wondering they were not so. By and by they stopped a bit, and I thought they would sit or fall down. But no; with Mrs. H.'s hand on his shoulder, 'quam familiariter't (as Terence said when I was at school), they walked about a minute, and then at it again, like two cockchafers spitted upon the same bodkin. I asked what all this meant, when, with a loud laugh, a child no older than our Wilhelmina (a name I never heard but in the Vicar of IVakefield, though her mother would call her after the Princess of Swap. penbach) said, 'Lord! Mr. Hornem, can't you see they are valtzing!' or waltzing (I forget which); and then up she got, and her mother and sister, and away they went, and round-abouted it till supper-time. Now that I know what it is, I like it of all things, and so does Mrs. H. (though I have broken my shins, and four times overturned Mrs. Hornem's maid, in practising the preliminary steps in a morning). Indeed, so much do I like it, that having a turn for rhyme, tastily displayed in some election ballads, and songs in honour of all the victories (but till lately I have had little practice in that way), I sat down, and with the aid of William Fitzgerald, Esq., and a few hints from Dr. Busby (whose recitations I attend, and am monstrous fond of Master Busby's manner of delivering his father's laté successful . Drury Lane Address'), I composed the following hymn, wherewithal to make my sentiments known to the public; whom, nevertheless, I heartily despise, as well as the critics.- I am, Sir, yours, &c. &c.,
• State of the poll (last day), 5.
| My Latin is all forgotten, if a man can be said to have forgotten what he never remembered; but I bought my title-page motto of a Catholic priest for a three-shilling bank token, after much haggling for the even sixpence. I grudged the money to a Papist, being all for the memory of Perceval and No Popery,' and quite regretting the downfall of the Pope, because we can't burn him any more.
MUSE of the many-twinkling feet * whose charms Imperial Wultz! imported from the Rhine
(Famed for the growth of pedigrees and wine). Terpsichore !-too long misdeem'd a maid
Long be thine import from all duty free,
And hock itself be less esteem'd than thee;
Improves our cellar--thou our living stock.
Through the full veins thy gentler poison swims, If but thy coats are reasonably high;
And wakes to wantonness the willing limbs.
As heaven-born Pitt can testify below,
Ere cursed confederation made thee France's, Thy not too lawfully begotten Waltz.'
And only left us thy d d debts and dances !
Of subsidies and Hanover bereft, Hail, nimble nymph! to whom the young hussar, We bless thee still—for George the Third is left! The whisker'd votary of waltz and war,
Of kings the best, and last not least in worth, His night devotes, despite of spurs and boots; For graciously begetting George the Fourth. A sight unınatch'd since Orpheus and his brutes: To Germany, and highnesses serene, Hail, spirit-stirring Waltz! beneath whose ban-1 Who owe us millions--don t we owe the queen ? ners
To Germany, what owe we not besides? A modern hero fought for modish manners;
So oft bestowing Brunswickers and brides: On Hounslow's leath to riyal Wellesley's fame, t Who paid for vulgar, with her royal blood, Cock'd, fired, and miss'd his man--but gaind his Drawn from the stem of each Teutonic stud; aim:
Who sent us-so be pardoned all our faultsHail, moving Muse! to whom the fair one's breast
A dozen dukes, some kings, a queen-and Waltz. Gives all it can, and bids us take the rest, Oh, for the flow of Busby or of Fitz,
But peace to her, her emperor and diet, The latter's loyalty, the former's wits,
Though now transferr'd to Bonaparte's fiat !' To energize the object I pursue,'
Back to my theme-O Muse of motion I say, And give both Belial and his dance their due ! How first to Albion found thy Waltz her way?
"Glance thord Wellesley gained and the other day. To sno
Borne on the breath of hyperborean gales Glance their many-twinkling reet.'-GRAY. + To rival Lord Wellesley's, or his nephew's, as the
From Hamburg's port (while Hamburg yet had reader pleases. The one gained a pretty woman,
mails), whom he deserved, by fighting for; and the other has Ere yet unlucky Fame, compelled to creep been fighting in the Peninsula many a long day,
To snowy Gottenburg, was chill'd to sleep; *by Shrewsbury clock,' without gaining anything in that country but the title of the great Lord,' and
Or, starting from her 'slumbers, deign'd arise, *the Lord which savours of profanation, having Heligoland, to stock thy mart with lies; been hitherto applied only to that Being to whom Te While unburnt Moscow yet had news to send, Deums for carnage is the rankest blasphemy. It is to be presumed that the general will one day return to
Nor owed her fiery exit to a friend, his Sabine farm, there
She came-Waltz came-and with her certain sets *To tame the genius of the stubborn plain, Of true despatches, and as true gazettes :
Almost as quickly as he conquer'd Spain I'. The Lord Peterborough conquered continents in a
Then flamed of Austerlitz the blest despatch, summer; we do more: we contrive both to conquer Which Moniteur nor Morning Post can match; and lose them in a shorter season. If the great! And, almost crushed beneath the glorious news, Lord's Cincinnatian progress in agriculture be no speedier than the proportional average of time in
Ten plays, and forty tales of Kotzebue's:
One envoy's letters, six composers' airs, verb, be 'ploughing with dogs.
And loads from Frankfort and from Leipsic fairs; By the by, one of this illustrious person's new titles is forgotten; it is, however, worth reinembering - Sal
Meiner's four volumes upon womankind, vador del mundo l' credite, posteril If this be the Like Lapland witches to ensure a wind; appellation annexed by the inhabitants ofthe Peninsula Brunck's heaviest tome for ballast, and, to back it, to the name of a man who has not yet saved them
Of Heyne, such as should not sink the packet. (query, are they worth saving, even in this world !! for, according to the mildest modifications of any Christian creed, those three words make the odds Fraught with this cargo, and her fairest freight, much against them in the next. Saviour of the Delightful Waltz. on tiptoe for a mate, world,' quotha !)-it were to be wished that he, or any one else, could save a corner of it-his country.
The welcome yessel reach'd the genial strand, Yet this stupid misnomer, although it shows the near And round her flock'd the daughters of the land. connexion between superstition and impiety, so far
Not decent David, when, before the ark, has its use, that it proves there can be little to dread from those Catholics (inquisitorial Catholics too) who
His grand pas-seul excited some remark; can conter such an appellation on a Protestant. 11 Not love-lorn Quixote, when his Sancho thought suppose next year he will be entitled the Virgin
The knight's fandango friskier than it ought: Mary ;' if so, Lord George Gordon himself would have nothing to object to such liberal bastards of our
Not soft Herodias, when, with winning tread, Lady of Babylon.
Her nimble feet danced off another's head;
Not Cleopatra on her galley's deck,
Seductive Waltz !-thougi on thy native shore Display'd so much of leg, or more of reck,
Even Werter's self proclaim'd thee half a whore ; Than thou, ambrosial Waltz, when first the moon Werter-to decent vice though much inclined, Beheld thee twirling to a Saxon tune!
Yet warm, not wanton; dazzled, but not blind
Though gentle Genlis, in her strife with Stael, To you, ye husbands of ten years! whose brows
Would even proscribe thee from a Paris ball; Ache with the annual tributes of a spouse :
The fashion hails--from countesses to queens, To you of nine years less, who only bear
And maids and valets waltz behind the scenes ; The budding sprouts of those that you shall wear,
Wide and more wide thy witching circle spreads, With added ornaments around them roll'd
And turns-if nothing else--at least our heads; Of native brass, or law-awarded gold:
With thee even clumsy cits attempt to bounce, To you, ye matrons, ever on the watch
And cockneys practise what they can't pronounce. To mar a son's, or make a daughter's, match;
Gods! how the glorious theme my strain exalts, To you, ye children of-whom chance accords And rhyme finds partner rhyıne in praise of Waltz! Always the ladies, and sometimes their lords ; To you, ye single gentlemen, who seek
Blest was the time Waltz chose her for début : Torments for life, or pleasures for a week;
The court, the Regent, like herself, were new; As Love or Hymen your endeavours guide,
New face for friends, for foes some new rewards; To gain your own, or snatch another's bride ;
New ornaments for black and royal guards; To one and all the lovely stranger came,
New laws to hang the rogues that roard for bread; And every ball-room cchoes with her name.
New coins (most new) to follow those that fled;
New victories--nor can we prize them less, Endearing Waltz ! to thy more melting tune
Though Jenky* wonders at his own success; Bow Irish jig and ancient rigadoon.
New wars, because the old succeed so well, Scotch reels, avaunt! and country dance, forego
That most survivors envy those who fell ; Your future claims to each fantastic toe!
New mistresses-no, old-and yet 'tis true, Waltz, Waltz alone, both legs and arms demands,
Though they be old, the thing is something new; Liberal of feet, and lavish of her hands;
Each new, quite new-except some ancient tricks). Hands which may freely range in public sight
New white-sticks, gold-sticks, broom-sticks, all new Where ne'er before-but-pray 'put out the light.'
sticks! Methinks the glare of yonder chandelier
With vests or ribbons, deck'd alike in hue,
New troopers strut, new turncoats blush in blue;
So saith the muse ! iny - what say you ! remark,
Such was the time when Waltz might best maintain • My slippery steps are safest in the dark ! But here the Muse with due decorum halts,
Her new preferments in this novel reign; And lends her longest petticoas Waitz
Such was the time, nor ever yet was such ;
Hoops are no more, and petticoats not much ; Observant travellers of every time!
Morals and minuets, virtue and her stays, Ye quartos publish'd upon every clime!
And tell-tale powder-all have had their days. Oh, say, shall dull Romaika's heavy round,
The ball begins-the honours of the house Fandango's wriggles, or Bolero's bound;
First duly done by daughter or by spouse, Can Egypt's Almas*--tantalizing group
Some potentate-or royal or sereneColumbia's caperers to the warlike whoop
With Kent's gay grace, or sapient Glo'ster's mien, Can aught from cold Kamschatka to Cape Horn
Leads forth the ready dame, whose rising flush With Waltz compare, or after Waltz be borne ? Might once have been mistaken for a blush. Ah, no! from Morier's pages down to Galt's,
From where the garb just leaves the bosom free, Each tourist pens a paragraph for Waltz.'
That spot where hearts were once supposed to be ;t
Round all the confines of the yielded waist, Shades of those belles whose reign began of yore, 1
The stranger's hand may wander undisplaced ; With George the Third's-and ended long before
The lady's in return may grasp as much Though in your daughters' daughters yet you thrive, As princely paunches offer to her touch. Burst from your lead, and be yourselves alive! Pleased round the chalky floor how well they trip, Back to the ball-room speed your spectred host; One hand reposing on the royal hip; Fools' Paradise is dull to that you lost. No treacherous powder bids conjecture quake; No stiff-starch'd stays make meddling fingers ache | Jenkinson. (Transferr'd to those ambiguous things that ape
We have changed all that,' says the Mock
Doctor; 'tis all gone : Asmodeus knows where. After Goats in their visage, women in their shape);
all, it is of no great importance how women's hearts No damsel faints when rather closely press'd, are disposed of; they have Nature's privilege to disBut more caressing seems when most caress'd ;
tribute them as absurdly as possible. But there are Superfluous hartshorn and reviving salts,
also soine men with hearts so thoroughly bad, as to
remind us of those phenomena often mentioned in Both banish'd by the sovereign cordial, 'Waltz.' natural history, viz. a mass of solid stone-only to be
opened by force-and when divided, you find a toad
in the centre, lively, and with the reputation of being * Dancing girls.
The other to the shoulder no less royal,
Rush to the heart, and lighten through the frame, Ascending with affection truly loyal !
With half-told wish and ill-dissembled flame: Thus front to front the partners move or stand, For prurient nature still will storm the breastThe foot may rest, but none withdraw the hand; Il'ho, tempted thus, can answer for the rest ? And all in turn may follow in their rank, The Earl of-Asterisk--and Lady-Blank;
But ye-who never felt a single thought, Sir-Such-a-one-with those of fashion's host, For what our morals are to be, or ought : For whose blest surnames-vide Morning Post Who wisely wish the charms you view to reap, (Or if for that impartial print too late,
Say--would you make those beauties quite so cheap? Search Doctors' Commons six months from my Hot from the hands promiscuously applied, date)
Round the slight waist, or down the flowing side, Thus all and each, in movement swift or slow, Where were the rapture then to clasp the form The genial contact gently undergo;
From this lewd grasp and lawless contact warm? Till some might marvel, with the modest Turk, At once love's most endearing thought resign, If nothing follows all this palming work."
To press the hand so press'd by none but thine ; True, honest Mirzy !--you may trust my rhyme To gaze upon that eye which never met Something does follow at a fitter time;
Another's ardent look without regret; The breast thus publicly resigned to man
Approach the lip which all, without restraint, In private inay resist him-if it can.
Come near enough-if not to touch-to taint;
If such thou lovest---love her then no more, Oye who loved our grandmothers of yore,
Or give-like her-caresses to a score ; Fitzpatrick, Sheridan, and many more!
Her mind with these is gone, and with it go And thou, my prince ! whose sovereign taste and
The little left behind it to bestow. will It is to love the lovely beldames still!
Voluptuous Waltz ! and dare I thus blaspheme ! Thou ghost of Queensberry! whose judging sprite
Thy bard forgot thy praises were his theme. Satan may spare to peep a single night,
Terpsichore, forgive !-at every ball Pronounce-if ever in your days of bliss
My wife now waltzes-and my daughters shall : Asmodeus struck so bright a stroke as this;
My son-(or stop-'tis needless to inquire To teach the young ideas how to rise,
These little accidents should ne'er transpire Flush in the cheek, and languish in the eyes ;
Somc ages hence our genealogic tree
Will wear as green a bough for him as me) • In Turkey, a pertinent, here an impertinent and
Waltzing shall rear, to make our name amends, superfluous question-literally put, as in the text, by a Persian to Morier, on seeing a waltz in Pera.-Vide
Grandsons for me-in heirs to all his friends. Morier's Travels.
The Vision Of JUDGMENT.
BY QUEVEDO REDIVIVUS.
SUGGESTED BY THE COMPOSITION SO ENTITLED BY THE AUTHOR OF 'WAT TYLER.'
PUBLISHED IN THE ‘LIBERAL.' 1822.
• A Daniel come to judgment ! yea, a Daniel !
“That fools rush in where angels fear to tread.'-Pope. If Mr. Southey had not rushed in where he had no business, and where he never was before, and never will be again, the following poem would not have been written. It is not impossible that it may be as good as his own, seeing that it cannot, by any species of stupidity, natural or acquired, be worse. The gross ilattery, the dull impudence, the renegade intolerance and impious cant, of the poem by the author of Wat Tyler, are something so stupendous as to form the sublime of himself-containing the quintessence of his own attributes.
So much for his poem-a word on his preface. In this preface it has pleased the magnanimous Laureate
to draw the picture of a supposed Satanic School,' the which he doth recommend to the notice of the Legislature, thereby adding to his other laurels the ambition of those of an informer. If there exists any. where, except in his imagination, such a school, is he not sufficiently armed against it by his own intense vanity? The truth is, that there are certain writers whom Mr. S. imagines, like Scrub, to have talked of him; for they laughed consumedly.'
I think I know enough of most of the writers to whom he is supposed to allude, to assert, that they, in their individual capacities, have done more good, in the charities of life, to their fellow-creatures in any one year, than Mr. Southey has done harm to himsell by his absurdities in his whole life; and this is saying ? great deal. But I have a few questions to ask.
Istly, Is Mr. Southey the author of IVat Tyler ?
2dly, Was he not refused a remedy at law by the highest judge of his beloved England, because it was a blasphemous and seditious publication ?
3diy, Was he not entitled by William Smith, in full Parliament, 'a rancorous renegado
And sthly, Putting the four preceding items together, with what conscience dare ne call the attention of the laws to the publications of others, be they what they inay?
I say nothing of the cowardice of such a proceeding; its meanness speaks for itself; but I wish to touch upon the motive, which is neither more nor less than that Mr. S. has been laughed at a fittle in some recent publications, as he was of yore in the Anti-Facobin by his present patrons. Hence all this 'skimble. scamble stuff' about 'Satanic,' and so forth. However, it is worthy of him-qualis ab incepto,
If there is anything obnoxious to the poetical opinions of a portion of the public in the following poem, they may thank Mr. Southey. He might have written hexameters, as he has written everything else, for aught that the writer cared-had they been upon another subject. But to attempt to canonize a monarch who, whatever were his household virtues, was neither a successful, nor a patriot king-inasmuch as several years of his reign passed in war with America and Ireland, to say nothing of the aggression upon Francelike all other exaggeration, necessarily begets opposition. In whatever inanner he may be spoken of in this new Vision, his public career will not be more favourably transmitted by history. Of his private virtues (although a little expensive to the nation) there can be no doubt.
With regard to the supernatural personages treated of, I can only say that I know as much about them, and (as an honest man) have a better right to talk of them, than Robert Southey. I have also treated them inore tolerantly. The way in which that poor insane creature, the Laureate, deals about his judgments in the next world, is like his own judgments in this. If it was not completely ludicrous, it would be something worse. I don't think that there is much more to say at present.
QUEVEDO REDIVIVUS. P.S.-It is possible that some readers may object, in these objectionable times, to the freedom with which saints, angels, and spiritual persons discourse in this Vision. But, for precedents upon such points, I must refer him to Fielding's Journey from this IVorld to the next, and to the Visions of myself, the said Quevedo, in Spanish or translated. The reader is also requested to observe, that no doctrinal tenets are insisted upon or discussed; that the person of the Deity is carefully withheld from sight, which is more than can be said for the Laureate, who hath thought proper to make Him talk, not like a school divine,' but like the unscholar-like Mr. SoutheyThe whole action passes on the outside of heaven; and Chaucer's Wife of Bath, Pulci's Morgante Maggiore, Swift's Tale of a Tub, and the other works above referred to, are cases in point of the freedom with which saints, etc., may be permitted to converse in works not intended to be serious.-Q. R.
** Mr. Southey being, as he says, a good Christian and vindictive, threatens, I understand, a reply to this our answer. It is to be hoped that his visionary faculties will in the meantime have acquired a little more judgment, properly so called : otherwise he will get himself into new dilemmas. These apostate Jacobins furnish rich rejoinders. Let him take a specimen. Mr. Southey laudeth grievously 'one Mr. Landor,' who cultivates much private renown in the shape of Latin verses; and not long ago, the Poet Laureate dedicated to him, it appeareth, one of his fugitive lyrics upon the strength of a poem called Gebir. Who could suppose that in this same Gebir the aforesaid Savage Landor (for such is his grim cognomen) putteth into the infernal regions no less a person than the hero of his friend Mr. Southey's heaven, --yea, even George the Third ! See also how personal Savage becometh, when he hath a mind. The following is his portrait of our late gracious sovereign : (Prince Gebir having descended into the infernal regions, the shades of his royal ancestors are, at his request, called up to his view, and he exclaims to his ghostly guide)
• Aroat, what wretch that nearest us? what wretch