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All woman's choicest beauties were combin'd;
In its calm heavings, warm, and chaste, and kind. Her deep blue eyes shone with peculiar brightness,
When through them flash'd the sunbeams of her mind;
Her voice was Music's echo-like the strain
With a deep sense of pleasure mix'd with pain : And those who once had heard it vainly strove
To lose its echoes lingering in the brain :
The comforter and friend of its distress;
Felt for the woes of others not the less.
Forbore to curse him for her loveliness.
(I love to be correct in my chronology, And all the tables which by chance I've seen
Concur in this date: When I was in College I Conducted once the famous Magazine,
Th’ Etonian's predecessor. This apology Will serve, I hope, among all folks discerning, For my correctness—both in taste and learning.)
'Twas a bad season : rain, and blight, and frost
Wheat—barley-oats--and turnips, all were crost.
There's no computing what that year they lost :
(As Earls are sometimes) an enormous glutton ;
He was a perfect Colleger at mutton.
A decent leg or shoulder could be put on;
Parsnips and carrots nowhere could be found,
The turnips were frost-bitten and unsound.
To pay their rents :the Earl look'd grim and frown'd;
Is more than I can possibly divine ;
A patient dying of a deep decline.
“ If any member refuse to pay a fine imposed by the Club, the fine shall be doubled.”-Rules of the Harrow Cricket Club, 1818. I recommend the same measure to the adoption of his Majesty of Clubs.
The poor petition'd in this utmost need;
Alas! they found it was in vain to whine ; The hungry Earl refused to hear a word; (We know petitions are sometimes absurd.)
XXII. “ He griev’d,” he said, “ but 'twasn't his look-out,
If all his serfs and vassals starv'd together; The year had been a rainy one, no doubt,
But what of that?-he didn't make the weather.
And not have sent such mutton-'twas like leather.
With wild and gloomy aspects, and sat down
Their heads on their clasp'd hands; throughout the town Went female shrieks and wailings; all content,
Domestic joy, and peace, and hope were flown;
Gaz'd, as he enter'd, on his frenzied eye,
Her own forebodings of deep misery;
Used all her lov'd caresses cheeringly;
Their youthful vows, and lately plighted troth,
Who had protected-would protect them both.
Remorse might yet the Earl's stern nature move,
“ Herself,” she added, “to despair was loth.”
Mothers were shrieking in distraction wild,
Gazed on the wan cheeks of each starving child !
And these alone, in their devotion, smiled;
Should by so stern a tyrant's head be prest!
Feeling a strange oppression at his chest ;
Which one would fancy, would have made him rest.
For sad reflections on her country's woes,
Her grief was far too burning for repose.
At last they trickled to her husband's nose,
* A great achievement, no doubt, but not equal to that of the celebrated Moore, of Moore-ball, who, immediately before his combat with the Dragon of Wantley, is said to have swallowed,
“ To make him strong and mighty, Six quarts of ale, and one of aquavitæ."
.: Her tears fell faster, but she answer'd not;
In vain at first she strove her voice to find; The courteous Saxon thought his wife had got
The toothach, and grew wonderfully kind. But when Godiva gently told him what
So much afflicted not her teeth-but mind,
Of what appear'd so singular a whim,
Thoughts, passions, wishes, centred all in him.
How was it possible a dame so slim,
'Twas just what mathematics are to me, A science which the longer I revolve,
The surer am I we shall ne'er agree : And so I very prudently resolve
To give it up, and stick to poetry,
Although, no doubt, a treasure in your way,
Your problems—with what appetite they may. I have no head for mathematic lore,
Therefore, my Simpson's Euclid, I must say (Though I'm desirous not to be uncivil) I most devoutly wish you at the Devil.