Pantest in dreams, still foil'd, and still renew'd A rainbow light, the splendour of a dream, And as he turns from earth with loathing eyes, Yet droop not thou, my soul, but turn thine eye And when the clouds come o'er thee dark and deep, So, when the noon of life in toil and care Δ I saw it in my evening walk, THE PRIMROSE. An oak's gnarl'd root, to roof the cave, And close beneath came sparkling out, A little rill, that clipt about The Lady in her cell. No other flower, no rival grew No sun-beam on that fairy pool No ruffling wind could reach her there- And there, methought, with bashful pride, And there was pleasantness to me She seem'd to sit and look On her own maiden loveliness, Pale imaged in the brook. In such belief-cold eyes That slight dear Nature's loveliness *The flowers of the Osmunda Regalis, or flowering-fern, are set like two rows of jewellery on the under sides of the leaves. This elegant plant blows in July and August, and is generally found on or about the boles and twisted roots of old trees. VOL. X. 3 S SPECIMENS OF A FREE AND EASY TRANSLATION, In which HORACE is done (for) into English, and adapted to the Taste of the DEAR NORTH, Present Generation. PRELIMINARY LETTER.Private. I AM Sorry to learn, by your last, that you have had such a severe twitch this time; keep warm in Welch flannel, live soberly, and no more desperate attempts with the Eau Medicinale d'Husson. It will be no farce, I assure you, if the gout fly bolt into your stomach, like a Congreve rocket into the ditto of a whale, and carry you off in the twinkling of a walking-stick. Then there would be wiping of eyes and blowing of noses; crape, weepers, and long cravats, throughout the land. Then there would be a breaking up of the glorious divan. Wastle would leave his High Street lodgings, and retire to his "airy citadel;" Morris would sell his shandrydan, and keep house at Aberystwith for life; Kempferhausen would pack up for Allemagne; Eremus would commence grinder to the embryo divines at Aberdeen; The Odontist would forswear poetry, take a large farm, and study Malthus on Population; Delta would take parson's orders; Paddy from Cork would fall into "a green and yellow melancholy," toss the remaining cantos of his epic to Beelzebub, and button his coat behind; Mullion would sell butter and eggs at his provision-warehouse, Grassmarket, and sedulously look forward to the provostship; while poor Odoherty (alas, poor Yorick!) would send his luggage to Dunleary harbour, and away to the fighting trade in South America. Then would there be a trumpeting and tantararaing among the Whigs,-" Quassha ma boo! our masters are no more!" would be echoed by every lip among them; and then, but not till then, with some shadow of hope might they look forward to their holding the reins of government, though, after all, most of them, if they did not hold well by the mane, would fall off the steed's back into the mire, they are such shocking bad riders; while the Radicals would press forward, and tread on their ribs in turn; Glasgow weavers would spin ropes to hang up whoever was obnoxious to them; Sheffield cutlers would grind razors to cut throats; and the Ribbonmen of Erin, and all the ragged, royal race of Tara," would look forward to seats in the Cabinet. Then, indeed, would there be a complete revolution in Church and State; churchmen would be cut shorter by the head, the national debt washed out with a dishclout, and taxes abolished; and then, instead of election being fettered, and parliaments septennial, there would be universal suffrage, and no parliaments at all. Then would the Saturnian age return to bless the world; then would Lucifer hawk about his golden pippins, and find abundant sale for them; then would all property be common, and pickpockets left without a trade; while no person would have any thing to do-at least, any right to do any thing, except smoking his pipe, draining his mug, and snoring in his hammock. My dear North, take care of the damp weather, and I warrant, that for many a long year to come, you shall keep death and the doctor at complete defiance-behold the cause of true freedom and loyalty prospering around you-and, were it not that you are a bachelor, rejoice in the caresses of your children's children. 66 From you, my revered friend, I shall descend to a humbler topic, one on which," to use the words of Byron, "all are supposed to be fluent, and none agreeable-self." 1stly, With regard to health, I find myself as well as I wish all others to be. My sprained ancle is now quite convalescent, poor thing; and, by persevering in rubbing a tea spoonful of opcdeldoc upon it every morning, it will soon be as strong as a bedpost. I occasionally take a Seidlitz powder to keep my stomach in order; for, depend upon it, the stomach of a literary man is almost of as much consequence as his head. Talking of the top-piece, I have an occasional headach; that is to say, after being too late out at night; but which I effectually remove and rectify by a bottle of soda water—our friend Jennings' if possible; for it excels all others, as much as his poetry the common run of verses, and stands, in relaion to every other compound of the kind, in the same degree of excellence and superiority, as Day and Martin's patent blacking to that made with soot, saliva, and small beer. 2dly, With respect to my intellectual pursuits. Pray, what makes you so earnest to learn what a retired and obscure man like me is about, and whose poor contributions to literature are but a drop in the bucket, compared with what you every day receive from the bright luminaries of the age? But I value your partiality as I ought; and, though I am to these as a farthing candle to a six-in-the-pound, you generously dip my wick in your own turpentine, to make it blaze brighter. I blush scarlet, (God bless the army, and their coats of scarlet!) when I confess, on my knees (by the bye, there is no need of kneeling, when you cannot see me,) that I have been for some time notoriously idle. Salamanca is such a noble beast, that I could not resist taking him out to the hounds; (I have won the brush thrice) and then, partridges were so plenty, I said it would waste little powder and shot daily to fill and replenish my MORGAN ODOHERTY. Dublin, 2d Dec. 1821. HORACE, BOOK FIRST. To Christopher North, Esq. Ad Maecenatem. Sunt, quos curriculo pulverem Olym- Hunc, si mobilium turba Quiritium Illum, si proprio condidit horreo HAIL! Christopher, my patron, dear, Some are, who all their hours consume Elate the honors of the day, Pull up their collars to their ears, Of those who will not hear Gale Jones: While Leigh Hunt, in the Examiner, And says, (who doubts him ?) men like these A third, like Sir John Sinclair, tries Attalicis conditionibus Nunquam dimoveas, ut trabe Cypria Luctantem Icariis fluctibus Africum Except (as Mr Coke prefers,) To catch the sheep, and ply the shears: Although you'd give, in guineas round, A plum, (i. e. one hundred thousand pound,) You could not get these men, I know, Aboard the Northern ships to go,Through frozen latitudes to stroll, And see if ice surrounds the pole ;They wish success to Captain Parry, But yet, at home would rather tarry. In slippers red, before the fire, With negus to his heart's desire, The merchant sits; he winks and snores,The north wind in the chimney roars; Waking, he bawls aloud-" Od rot 'em, "I fear my ships are at the bottom !"The crews are trifles to be sure, "But then the cargos a'n't secure : "'Change will be changed for me tomorrow,"Alack! for poverty and sorrow!" Men are- I know them-let that pass, (Who crack a joke, and love a glass) Whether, like Falstaff, it be sack, Champaigne, Old Hock, or Frontiniac, Or Whisky-punch, which, jovial dog, Is true heart's-balsam to James Hogg ;Like Wordsworth, under pleasant trees, Stratus, nunc ad aquae lene caput sa- Some take delight to catch the breeze; Or lie amid the pastoral mountains, And listen to the bubbling fountains. Est, qui nec veteris pocula Massici, - Nec partem solido demere de die, Spernit nunc viridi membra subarbuto crae. Multos castra juvant, et lituo tubae Many in camps delight to hear Detestata. Manet sub Jove frigido Venator, tenerae conjugis immemor; Seu visa est catulis cerva fidelibus, Seu rupit teretes Marsus aper plagas, The fife and bugle's music clear, bellaque, matribus Though youngsters love a battle hot, Me doctarum hederae praemia fron--For me a laurel crown, like that tium Dis miscent superis; me gelidum nemus, Nympharumque leves cum Satyris chori Secernunt populo: si neque tibias Euterpe cohibet, nec Polyhymnia Lesboum refugit tendere barbiton, Used for a band to Southey's hat, Oh! that James Hogg, my chosen friend, |