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CXXXV. He wrote this polar melody, and set it,
Duly accompanied by shrieks and groans,
For I will teach, if possible, the stones
Be said, that we still truckle unto thrones :-
millennium, You hardly will believe such things were true
As now occur, I thought that I would pen you 'em; But may their
very memory perish too! Yet, if perchance remember'd, still disdain you 'em, More than you scorn the sayages
yore, Who painted their bare limbs, but not with gore.
CXXXVII. And when
hear historians talk of thrones, And those that sate upon them, let it be As we now gaze upon the mammoth's bones,
And wonder what old world such things could see ; Or hieroglyphics on Egyptian stones,
The pleasant riddles of futurity-
As the first canto promised. You have now
All very accurate, you must allow,
For I have drawn much less with a long bow
fore-runners. Carelessly I sing, But Phoebus lends me now and then a string,
What further hath befallen or may befal
if at all :
Worn out with battering Ismail's stubborn wall,
He had behav'd with courage and humanity ;Which last men like, when they have time to pause
From their ferocities produced by vanity. His little captive gain'd him some applause,
For saving her amidst the wild insanity Of carnage, and I think he was more glad in her Safety, than his new order of Saint Vladimir.
For she was homeless, houseless, helpless : all
Had perish'd in the field or by the wall : Her very place of birth was but a spectre
Of what it had been ; there the Muezzin's call To prayer was heard no more !—and Juan wept, And made a vow to shield her, which he kept.
NOTES TO CANTO VIII.
Note 1. Stanza viii.
All sounds it pierceth, “ Allah! Allah ! Hu!» “Allah ! Hu!" is properly the war-cry of the Mussulmans, and they dwell long on the last syllable, which gives it a very wild and peculiar effect.
Note 2. Stanza ix.
But thy most dreaded instrument
WORDSWORTH's Thanksgiving Ode. To wit, the Deity's. This is perhaps as pretty a pedigree for Murder as ever was found out by Garter King-at-arms. What would have been said, had any freespoken people discovered such a lineage ?
Note 3. Stanza xviji.
Was printed Grove, although his name was Grose. A fact; see the Waterloo Gazettes. I recollect remarking at the time to a friend : “ There is fame! a man is killed, his name is Grose, and they print it Grove." I was at college with the deceased, who was a very amiable and clever man, and his society in great request for his wit, gaiety, and “ chansons à boire.”
* Note 4. Stanza xxiji.
As any other notion, and not national. See Major Vallencey and Sir Lawrence Parsons.
Note 5. Stanza xxv.
'T is pity that such meanings should pave hell.” 'The Portuguese proverb says, that “Hell is paved with good intentions."
Note 6. Stanza xxxiii.
By thy humane discovery, Friar Bacon! Gunpowder is said to have been discovered by this friar.
Note 7. Stanza xlvii.
Which scarcely rose much higher than grass blades. They were but two feet high above the level.
Note 8. Stanza xcvii.
That you and I will win St. George's collar. The Russian military order.
Note 9. Stanza cxxxiii.
(Powers Eternal! such names mingled !) “Ismail 's ours !" In the original Russian-
Slava bogu! slava vam!
Krepost Vzala, ïa tam. A kind of couplet; for he was a poet.
1. Oh, Wellington! (or “ Vilainton"-for fame Sounds the heroic syllables both
ways; France could not even conquer your great name,
But punn'd it down to this facetious phraseBeating or beaten she will laugh the same)
You have obtain’d great pensions and much praise ; Glory like yours should any dare gainsay, Humanity would rise, and thunder “ Nay!
In Marinet's affair-in fact 't was shabby,
Upon your tomb in Westminster's old abbey. Upon the rest 't is not worth while to dwell,
Such tales being for the tea hours of some tabby ;
Yet Europe doubtless owes you greatly more :
A prop not quite so certain as before:
Have seen, and felt, how strongly you restore ;
debtor(I wish your bards would sing it rather better.)
IV. You are " the best of cut-throats :”-do not start;
The phrase is Shakspeare's, and not misapplied : War 's a brain-spattering, windpipe-slitting art,
Unless her cause by right be sanctified.
The world, not the world's masters, will decide,
They say you like it too—'t is no great wonder ;
At last may get a little tired of thunder ;
May like being praised for every lucky blunder,
Presented by the Prince of the Brazils,
A slice or two from your luxurious meals : 2 He fought, but has not fed so well of late.
Some hunger too they say the people feels :
ration, But pray give back a little to the nation.
Lord Duke! is far above reflection.
With modern history has but small connexion : Though as an Irishman
love potatoes, You need not take them under
your direction; And half a million for your Sabine farm Is rather dear !—I 'm sure I mean no harm.
Epaminondas saved his Thebes, and died,
George Washington had thanks and nought beside, Except the all-cloudless glory (which few men's is)
To free his country : Pitt too had his pride, And, as a high-soul'd minister of state, is Renown'd for ruining Great Britain gratis.
Except Napoleon, or abused it more.
Of tyrants, and been bless'd from shore to shore ;
--what is your fame? Shall the muse tune it ye? Now—that the rabble's first vain shouts are o'er ? Go! hear it in your famish'd country's cries ! Behold the world! and curse your