Nabob of Arcot-Despot of Japan Sultan of Persia-Emperor of Cathay Much rather would I be the happy man With such a lot my heart would be in cloverBut what-O horror!-what do I survey! Postilions and white favours!-all is over 44 SUMMER.-A WINTER ECLOGUE. A Back Parlour at Camberwell. Sylvanus is seated at the breakfast-table, and greeteth his friend Civis. SYL. A good morrow to you, friend Civis, and a hearty welcome!--How hath sleep dealt with you through the night? Civ. Purely indeed, and with rare pastoral dreams. I have done nothing but walk through pleasant groves, or sit me down under shady boughs, the whole livelong night. A foretaste, my friend, of the rural delights yet to come, in strolling with you, amongst the dainty shades of this your verdant retreat. How have I yearned all through the month of June, to be a Jack'i-theGreen again amidst your leaves here! You know my prospect in town. SYL.-Aye, truly; I did once spend, or rather misspend a whole week there in the dog-days. You looked out opposite on a scorching brick front of six stories, with a south aspect-studded with I know not how many badges of Assurance from fire, and not without need-for the shop windows below seemed all a-blaze with geranium-coloured silks, at that time the mode, and flamme d'enfer. The left-hand shop, next door, was all red, likewise, with regiments of lobsters, in their new uniforms; beyond that, a terrible flaring Red Lion, newly done up with paint. At the next door, a vender of red morocco pocket-books-my eyes were in a scarlet fever, the whole time of my sojourning. Civ. A true picture, I confess. We are, indeed, a little strong in the warm tints; but they give the more zest to your suburban verdure. All the way down overnight, I thought only of the two tall elm trees beside your gate, and which have always been to my city optics as refreshing as a pair of green spectacles. Surely of all spots I have seen, Camberwell is the greenest, as the poet says, that ever laid hold of Memory's waist. SYL.-It hath been greener aforetime. But I pray you sit down and fall to.-Shall I help you to some of this relishing salted fish? Civ. By your good leave, Sylvanus, I will first draw up these blinds. My bedroom, you know, looks out only to the road, and I am longing to help my eyes, to a little of what, as a citizen, I may truly call the green fat of nature. SYL.-Nay, Civis I pray you let the blinds alone. The rolls are getting cold. This ham is excellently well cured, and the eggs are new-laid. Come, take a seat. CIV.-I beseech your patience for one moment. There!—the blind is up. What a brave flood of sunshine-and what a glorious blue sky!—What a rare dainty day to roam abroad in, dallying with the Dryads! But what do I behold! Oh, my Syl |