CXCVII. « I have no more to say, but linger still, ་་ " And dare not set my seal upon this sheet, And yet I may as well the task fulfil, ་་ My misery can scarce be more complete : « I had not lived till now, could sorrow kill; "Death shuns the wretch who fain the blow would meet, « And I must even survive this last adieu, And bear with life, to love and pray for you CXCVIII. This note was written upon gilt-edged paper And yet she did not let one tear escape her; The seal a sunflower; « Elle vous suit partout, » The motto, cut upon a white cornelian; The wax was superfine, its hue vermillion. CXCIX. This was Don Juan's earliest scrape; but whether We'll see, however, what they say to this, CC. My poem's epic, and is meant to be a year hence. Divided in twelve books; each book containing, With love, and war, a heavy gale at sea, A list of ships, and captains, and kings reigning, New characters; the episodes are three: A panorama view of hell's in training, All these things will be specified in time, Which makes so many poets, and some fools; CCII. There's only one slight difference between They so embellish, that 'tis quite a bore CCIII. If any person doubt it, I appeal To history, tradition, and to facts, To newspapers, whose truth all know and feel, To plays in five, and operas in three acts; All these confirm my statement a good deal, But that which more completely faith exacts Is, that myself, and several now in Seville, Saw Juan's last elopement with the devil. CCIV. If ever I should condescend to prose, I'll write poetical commandments, which u CCV. Thou shalt believe in Milton, Dryden, Pope; The second drunk, the third so quaint and mouthey : With Crabbe it may be difficult to cope, And Campbell's Hippocreue is somewhat drouthy: Thou shalt not steal from Samuel Rogers, nor Commit-flirtation with the muse of Moore. CCVI. Thou shalt not covet Mr. Sotheby's Muse, Thou shalt not bear false witness like the Blues, (There's one, at least, is very fond of this; ) Thou shalt not write. In short, but what I choose: This is true criticisın, aud you may kiss- CCVII. If any person should presume to assert ( But, doubtless, nobody will be so pert) CCVIII. If, after all, there should be some so blind Not to believe my verse and their own eyes, CCIX. The public approbation I expect, And beg they'll take my word about the moral, Which I with their amusement will connect, (So children cutting teeth receive a coral); Meantime, they'll doubtless please to recollect My epical pretensions to the laurel : For fear some prudish readers should grow skittish, I've bribed my grandmother's review-the British. CCX. I sent it in a letter to the editor, Who thank'd me duly by return of post— And smear his page with gall instead of honey, CCXI. I think that with this holy new alliance CCXII. « Non ego hoc ferrem calida juventa Hint that some six or seven good years ago (Long ere I dreamt of dating from the Brenta) I was most ready to return a blow, And would not brook at all this sort of thing In my hot youth-when George the Third was King. CCXIII. But now at thirty years my hair is gray (I wonder what it will be like at forty? I thought of a peruke the other day) My heart is not much greener; and, in short, I Have squander'd my whole summer while 'twas May, And feel no more the spirit to retort; I Ilave spent my life, both interest and principal, And deem not, what I deem'd, my soul invincible. CCXIV. No more no more-Oh! never more on me The freshness of the heart can fall like dew, Which out of all the lovely things we see Extracts emotions beautiful and new, |