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XCVIII. 'T is all the same to me, I'm fond of yielding,

And therefore leave them to the purer page Of Smollet, Prior, Ariosto, Fielding,

Who say strange things for so correct an age. I once had great alacrity in wielding

My pen, and liked poetic war to wage,
And recollect the time when all this cant
Would have provoked remarks which now it shan't.

As boys love rows, my boyhood liked a squabble;

But at this hour I wish to part in peace,
Leaving such to the literary rabble,

Whether my verse's fame be doom'd to cease While the right hand which wrote it still is able,

Or of some centuries to take a lease, The

grass upon my grave will grow as long. And sigh to midnight winds, but not to song.

Of poets who come down to us through distance

Of time and tongues, the foster-babes of famne, Life seems the smallest portion of existence;

Where iwenty ages gather o'er a name, 'T is as a snowball which derives assistance

From every flake, and yet rolls on the same, Even till an iceberg it may chance to grow, But after all 't is nothing but cold snow.

CI. And so great names are nothing more than nominal,

And love of glory's but an airy lust, Too often in its fury overcoming all

Who woull, as 't were, identify their dust From out the wide destruction which, entombing all,

Leaves nothing will the coming of the justSave change: I've stood upon Achilles' tomb, And beard Troy doubted; time will doubt of Rome.

CII. The very generations of the dead Are swept away,

and tomb inherits tomb, Until the memory of an age is fled,

And, buried, sinks beneath its offspring's doom Where are the epitaphs our fathers read?

Save a few glead from the sepulchral Gloom, Which once-nained myriad, nameless lie beneallı, And lose their own in universal death,

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They heard, next day, that in the Dardanelles,

Waiting for his sublimity's firman-
The most imperative of sovereign spells,

Which every body does without who can,-
More to secure them in their naval cells,

Lady to lady, well as man to man,
Were to be chain'd and lotted oui per couple
For the slave-market of Constantinople.

Ju seems when this allotment was made out,

There chanced to be an odd male and odd female, Who ( after some discussion and some doubt

If the soprano might be doom'd to be male, They placed him o'er the women as a scout)

Were link'd together, and it happen'd the male Was Juan, who-an awkward thing at his

agePair'd off with a Bacchante's blooming visage.

With Raucocanti lucklessly was chain'd

The tenor; these two liated with a hate
Found only on the stage, and each more pain'd

With this bis tuneful neighbour than his fate; Sad strife arose, for they were so cross-grain d,

Instead of bearing up without debate, That caclı puld different ways with many an oath, « Arcades ambo,» id est-blackguards both.

Juan's companion was a Romagnole,

But bred within the March of old Ancona,
that look'd into the


soul (Aud other chief points of a « bella donna»), Bright-and as black and burning as a coal;

And through her clear brunette complexion slione a Great wislı to please-a most attractive dower, Especially when added to the power.

But all that power was wasted upon him,

For sorrow oer cach sense lield stere command; Her eye might thash on his, but found it dimn;

And though thus chain'd, as natural her hand Touchd luis, nor Urut-Dor any budsome limb

(And she had some vot easy to withstan:)) Could stir bis puse, or make his futh feel brittle; Perhaps lois recent wounds might belp a lilile.

No matter; we should ne'er too much inquire,

But facts are facts,-no knight could be more true, And firmer faithi no ladyc-love desire;

We will omit the proofs, save one or two.
Tis said no one in hand can hold a Gre

By thought of frosty Caucasus, but few
I really think; yet Juan's then ordeal
Was more triumphant, and not much less real.

Ilere I might enter on a chaste description,

Having withood temptation in my youth,
But hear that several prople take exception

At the first two books having too much truth; Therefore I'll make Don Juan leave the ship soon,

Because the publisher declues, in sooth, Througlu needles'cyes it casier for de camel is To pass, than those two cantos into families.

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I canter by the spot cache afternoon

Where perished in his fame the bero-boy, Who lived too long for men, but died too soon

For human vanity, the young De Foix ! A broken pillar not unconthly bewil,

But which neglect is hastening to destroy, Piccords liavenna's carnage on its face, While weeds and ordure rankle round the base. 5

I pass cach day where Dante's bones are laid ,

A little cupola, more neat than solemu,
Protects his dust, but reverence here is paiet

To the band's tomb, and not the warrior's column. The time must come when both, alike derard,

The chieftain's trophy and the poet's volume, Will sink where lie the songs and wars of earth, Before Pelides' death or lomer's birth.


With human blood that column was cemented, Humboldt, « the first of travellers,» but not
With human tilth that column is defiled,

The last, if late accounts be accurate,
As if the peasant's coarse contempt were vented, Jovented, by some name I have forgot,
To show his loathing of the spot he spoil'd.

As well as the sublime discovery's date, Thus is the trophy used, and thus lamented

An airy instrument, with which he sought Should ever be those blood-hounds, from whose wild To ascertain the atmospheric state, Instinct of gore and glory earth has known

By measuring the intensity of blue
Those sufferings Dante saw in hell alone.

Oh, Lady Daphne! let me measure you!

Yet there will still be bards; though fame is smoke, But to the narrative.—The vessel bound

Its fumes are frankincense to human thought; With slaves to sell off in the capital,
And the unquiet feelings, which first woke

After the usual process, might be found
Song in the world, will seek what then they sought; At anchor under the seraglio wall:
As on the beach the waves at last are broke,

Her cargo, from the plague being safe and sound,
Thus to their extreme verge the passions brouglit, Were landed in the market, one and all,
Dash into poetry, which is but passion,

And there, with Georgians, Russians, and Circassians, Or at least was so ere it grew a fashion.

Bought up for different purposes and passions.

If in the course of such a life as was

Some went off dearly: fifteen hundred dollars At once adventurous and contemplative,

For one Circassian, a sweet girl, were given, Men who partake all passions as they pass,

Warranted virgin; beauty's brightest colours Acquire the deep and bitter power to give

Had deck'd her out in all the hues of heaven: Their images again, as in a glass,

Her sale sent home some disappointed bawlers, And in such colours that they seem to live;

Who bade on till the hundreds reach'd eleven; You may do right forbidding them to show 'em, But when the offer went beyond, they knew But spoil (I think) a very pretty poem.

*T was for the sultan, and at once withdrew. CVIII.

CXV. Oh! ye, who make the fortunes of all books!

Twelve negresses from Nubia brought a price Benign ceruleans of the second sex!

Which the West-Indian market scarce would bring; Who advertise new poems by your looks,

- Though Wilberforce, at last, has made it twice Your « imprimatur» will ye not annex ?

What 't was ere abolition; and the thing
What, must I go to the oblivious cooks,-

Need not seem very wonderful, for vice
Those Cornish plunderers of Parnassian wrecks? Is always much more splendid than a king :
Ah! must I then the ouly minstrel be

The virtues, even the most exalted, charity,
Proscribed from tasting your Castaliau tea?

Are saving-vice spares nothing for a rarity.

What, can I prove « a lion» then no more?

But for the destiny of this young troop, A ball-room bard, a foolscap, hol-press darling, How some were bought by pachas, some by Jews, To bear the compliments of many a bore,

Ilow some to burdens were obliged to stoop, And sigh « I can't get out,» like Yorick's starling. And others rose to the command of crews Why then I 'll swear, as poet Wordy swore

As renegadoes; while in hapless group, (Because the world won't read him, always snarling), Hoping no very old vizier might chuse, That taste is gone, that fame is but a lottery,

The females slood, as one by one they pick'd 'em, Drawn by the blue-coal misses of a coterie.

To make a mistress, or fourth wife, or victim.

Oh! « darkly, deeply, beautifully blue,»

All this must be reserved for further song; As some one somewhere sings about the sky,

Also our hero's lot, howe'er unpleasant And I, ye learned ladies, say of you;

(Because this canto has become too long), They say your stockings are so (Heaven knows why, Must be postponed discreetly for the present; I have examined few pair of that hue);

I'm sensible redundancy is wrong, Blue as the garters which serenely lie

But could not for the muse of me put less in 't : Round the patrician left-legs, which adorn

And now delay the progress of Don Juan,
The festal midnight aud the levee morn.

Till what is call'd in Ossian the fifth Duan.
Yet some of you are most seraphic creatures :

But times are alter'd since, a rhyming lover,
You read my stanzas, and I read your features:

And—but no matter, all those things are over.
Sull I have no dislike to learned natures,

For sometimes such a world of virtues cover:
I know one woman of that purple school,
The loveliest, chastest, best, but-quite a fool.


When amatory poets sing their loves

In liquid lines mellilluously bland,
And praise their rhymes as Venus yokes her doves,

They little think what mischief is in land; The greater their success the worse it proves, As Ovid's verse may


you understand; Even Peirarchi's self, if judged with due severity, Is the Platonic pimp of all posterity.

I therefore do denounce all amorous writing,

Except in such a way as not to attract;
Plain-simple--short, and by no means inviting,

But with a moral to eaclı error tack'd,
Form'd rather for instructing than delighting,

And with all passions in their turn attack'd.
Now, if my Pegasus should not be shod ill,
This poem will become a moral model.

The European with the Asian shore

Sprinkled with palaces; the ocean stream,'
Ilere and there studded with a seventy-four;

Sophia's cupola with golden gleam;
The cypress groves; Olympus high and loar;

The twelve isles, and die more than I could drcam,
Far less describe, present the
Which charm'd the charming Mary Montagu.

it. I have a passion for the name of « Mary,»

For once it was a magic sound to me,
And still it half calls up the realus of fairy,

Where I beheld what never was to be;
Al feelings changed, but this was last 10 vary,

A spell froin which even yet I am not quite free: But I grow sad-and let a tale

grow cold, Which must not be pathetically told.

A crowd of shivering slaves of every nation,

And age, and sex, were in the market ranged;
Each bevy with the merchaut in his station :

Poor creatures! their good looks were sadly changed. All save the blacks seem'd jaded with vexation,

From friends, and home, and freedom far estranged;
The negroes more philosophy display'd, -
Used to it, no doubt, as eels are to be tlay'd.

Juan was juvenile, and thus was full,

As most at his age are, of hope, and health;
Yet I must own he look'd a little dull,

And now and then a tear stole down by stealth : Perhaps his recent loss of blood might pull

His spirit down; and then the loss of wealth, A mistress, and such a

comfortable quarters, To be put up for auction amongst Tartars,

Were things to shake a stoic; ne'ertheless,

Upon the whole liis carriage was serene :
His figure, and the splendour of his dress,

Of which some gilded remnants still were seen,
Drew all eyes on him, giving them to guess

He was above the vulyar by his mien;
And then, though pale, hic was so very liandsome;
And dien-they calculated on his ransom.

Like a backgammon-board the place was dottel

With whites and blacks, in groups on show for sal, Though rather more irregularly spotted :

Some bought the jet, while others close the pale. li chanced, amongst the other people lotted,

linan of thirty, rather stout and hale,
With resolution in his dark grey eye,
Vest Juan stood, till some might chuse to buy.

He had an English look; that is, was square

In make, of a complexion white and ruddy,
Good teeth, with curling rather dark brown hair,

And, it might be from thought, or toil, or study, An open brow a lite markil with care :

One arm had on a bandage rather bloody;
And there be stood with such sang-froid, that greater
Could searce be shown even by a mere spectator.

But seeing at liis clbow a mere lad,

Of a high spirit evidenty, though
At present weislid down by a doom wlich had

O'erthrown even men, be soon began to show
A kind of blunt compassion for the sad

Lot of so young a partner in the woe,
Which for himself he seem'd to deem no worse
Than any other scrapema thing of course.

My boy!» said he, amidst this motley crew

Of licorgians, Russians, Nubins, and what not,
Il ragamuffins differing, but in lue,

Willa whom it is our luck to cast our lot, The only gentlemen seem I and you,

So let us be acquainted, as we ought: If I could yield you any consolation, "T would give me pleasure:- Pray, what is your nation's

very view

The wind swept down the Euxine, and the wave

Broke foaming o'er the blue Symplegades, 'T is a grand sight, from off « the Giants Grave, »2

To watch the progress of those rolling seas Cetween the Bosphorus, as they lash and have

Europe and Asia, you being quite at ease; There's not a sea the passenger e'er pukes in Turns up more dangerous breakers than the Euxine.

1. 'T was a raw day of Autumn's bleak beginning,

When rights are equal, but not so the days; The Prex then cut short the further spinning

Of seamen's fates, and the loud tempeats raise The waters, and repentance for past sinuing

In all who o'er the great deep take their ways: They vow to annend their lives, and yet they don't; Decause if drown'd, they can'ı-if spired, they won't.

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XXI. When Juan answer'd «Spanish !» he replied,

« You take things coolly, sir,” said Juan. «Why,» « I thought, in fact, you could not be a Greek;

Replied the other, « what can a mau do? Those servile dogs are not so proudly eyed :

There still are many rainbows in your sky, Fortune has play'd you here a pretty freak,

But mine have vanish'd. All, when life is new, But that's her way with all men till they 're tried : Commence with feelings warm and prospects light;

But never mind, -she'll turo, perhaps, next week; But time strips our illusions of their hue, She has served me also much the same as you,

And one by one in turn, some grand mistake
Except that I have found it nothing new.»

Casts off its bright skin yearly, like the snake.

Pray, sir,» said Juan, « if I may presume,

« 'T is true, it gets another bright and fresh, What brought you here ?»-« Oh! nothing very rare- Or fresher, brighter, but, the year gone through, Six Tartars and a drag-chain--»-«To this doom This skin must go the way tvo of all tlesli, But what conducted, if the question's fair,

Or sometimes only wear a week or two. Is that which I would learn.»—« I served for some Love's the first net which spreads its deadly mesh;

Months with the Russian army here and there, Ambition, avarice, vengeance, glory, gluc And taking lately, by Suwarrow's bidding,

The glittering lime-twigs of our latter days,
A town, was ta'en myself instead of Widin.»

Where still we flutter on for pence or praise.»

« Have you no friends?»-« I had—but, by God's blessing, « All this is very fine, and may be true,»

Have not been troubled with them lately. Now Said Juin; « but I really don't see how
I have answer'd all your questions without pressing, It betters present times with me or you.»
you an equal courtesy should show.»-

« No!» quoth the other ; « yet you will allow Alas!» said Juan, « 't were a tale disfressing,

By setting things in their right point of view, And long besides,»-« Oh! if 'i is really so,

Knowledge, at least, is gain'd; for instance, now,
You're right on both accounts to hold your tongue; We know what slavery is, and our disasters
A sad tale saddens doubly when 't is long.

May teach us better to behave when masters.»

« But droop pot : Fortunc at your time of life, « Would we were masters now, if but to try
Although a female moderately fickle,

Their present lessons on our Pagan friends here,» Will hardly leave you (as she's not your wife)

Said Juan--swallowing a heart-burning sigh : For any length of days in such a pickle.

alleav'n help the scholar whom his fortune sends liere!» To strive too with our fate were such a strife

« Perhaps we shall be one day, by and by, As if the corn-sheaf should oppose the sickle :

Rejoin'd the other, « when our bad luck mends hiere; Men are the sport of circumstances, when

Meantime (yon old black eunuch seems to eye us) The circumstances seem the sport of men.»

I wish to G-d that somebody would buy us!

Tis not,» said Juan, « for my present doom

« But after all, what is our present state? I mourn, but for the past;-I loved a maid: »

'Tis bad, and may be better-all men's lot. lle paused, and his dark eye grew full of gloom; Most men are slaves, none more so than the great, A single tear upon his eyelash staid

To their own whims and passions, and what not ; A moment, and then droppd; « but to resume, Society itself, which should create 'Tis not my present lot, as I have said,

Kiodness, destroys what little we had got : Which I deplore so much; for I have borne

To feel for pone is the true social art
Bardships which have the hardiest overworn,

Of the world's stoics-men without a heart.»

« On the rough deep. But this last blow-—» and here Just now a black old neutral personage
le stopp'd again, and turn'd away his face.

Of the third sex stepp'd up, and peering over Ay,» quoth his friend, « I thought it would appear

The captives, seem'd to mark their looks, and age, That there had been a lady in the case;

And capabilities, as to discover And these are things which ask a tender tear,

If they were fitted for the purposed cage: Such as I too would shed if in your place :

No lady c'er is ogled by a lover, I cried upon my first wife's dying day,

Horse by a blackleg, broadcloth by a tailor,
And also when my second ran away:

Fee by a counsel, felon by a jailor,

Mythird»-«Your third ! » quoth Juan, turning round; As is a slave by his intended bidder.

You scarcely can be thiriy: have you three? » 'Tis pleasant purchasing our fellow-creatures;
No-only two at present above ground:

And all are to be sold, if you consider
Surely 't is nothing wonderful to see

Their passions, and are dext'rous; some by features Onc person thrice in holy wedlock bound'»

Are bought up, others by a warlike leader, Well, then, your third,» said Juan; « what did she? Some by a place-as tend their years or natures : She did not run away, too, did she, sir ?»

The most by ready cash--but all have prices, « No , faith.»-«What then?»---- I ran away from her.» From crowns to kicks, according to their vices.

The eunuch having eyed them o'er with care,

Turn'd to the merchant, and began to bid
First but for one, and after for the pair;

They haveled, wrangled, swore, too-so they did ! As though they were in a mere christiau fair,

Cheapeving an ox, an ass, a lamb, or kid;
So that their bargain sounded like a battle
For this superior yoke of human cattle.

Al last they settled into simple grumbling,

And pulling out reluctant purses, and
Turning each piece of silver o'er, and tumbling

Some down, and weighing others in their hand,
And by mistake sequius with paras jumbling,

Until the sum was accurately scano'd,
And then the merchant, giving change aud sigoing
Receipts in full, began to think of dining.

I wonder if his appetite was good;

Or, if it were, if also his digestion.
Methioks at meals some odd thonghis might intrude,

And conscience ask a curious sort of question, About the right divine how far we should

Sell flesta and blood. When dinner has oppress'd one,
I think it is perhaps the gloomiest hour
Which turns up out of the sad twenty-four.

Voltaire says « No;» bie tells you that Candido

Found life most tolerable after meals:
He 's wrong-unless man was a pis, indeed,

Repletion rather adds to what he feels;
Unless he's drunk, and then no doubt he's freed

From his own brain's oppression while it reels.
Of food I think with Philip's son, or rather
Ammon's (ill pleased with one world and one father);

I think with Alexander, that the act

Of eating, with another act or two,
Makes us feel our mortality in fact

Kedoubled; when a roase and a ragout, and list and soup, by some side dishes back'd,

Can give us cither pain or pleasure, who
Would pique limself on intellects, whose use
Depends so much upon the gastric juice?

The other evening ('t was on Friday last) -

This is a fact, and no poetic fable-
Just as my great coat was about me cast,

My hat and gloves still lying on the table,
Ticard a shol-'t was eight o'clock scarce past-

And running out as fast as I was able, 3
I found the military commandant
Stretch'd in the street, and able searce to pant.

Poor fellow! for some reason, surely bad,

They liad slain him with five slugs; and left him there
To perislı on the pavement : so I had
Ilim borne into the house und


the stair, And stripp'd, and look'd lo----But why should I add

More circumstances ? vain was every care ; ! The man was gone : in some Italian quarrel

Killd by live bullets from an old gun-barrel.

I gazed upon him, for I knew him well;

And, though I have seen many corpses, never
Saw one, whicm such an accident befel,
So calm; though pierced through stomach, heart,

and liver, lle seem'd to sleep, for you could scarcely tell

(as he bled inwardly, no lidcous river Of gore divulged the cause) that he was dead:So as I gazed ou him, I thought or said,

XXXVI. «Can this be death? then what is life or death?

Speak!' but he spoke not: 'wake! but still be slept: But yesterday and who had mightier breath?

thousand warriors by his word were kept In awe: he said, as the centurion saith,

"Go,' and lie gocth; * come,' and forth he steppi.
The trump and bugle till he spake were dumb-
And now nought left liim but the muffled drum,»

And they who waited once and worshipp'd-they

With their rough faces throng'd about the bed,
To gaze once more on the commanding clay

Which for the last though not the first time bled: And such an end! that he who many a day

llad faced Napoleon's foes until they fled, The foremost in the charge or in the sally, Should now be butcher'd in a civic alley.

The scars of his old wounds were near his new,

Those honourable scars which brought him fame; And horrid was the contrast to the view

But let me quit the theme, as such things claim
Perhaps even more attention than is due

From me: I gazed (as oft I have gazed the same
To try if I could wrenchi anglit out of death
Which should contirın, or shake, or make a faith ;

But it was all a mystery. Here we are,

And there we go:- but where? five bits of lead.
Or three, or two, or one, send very far!

And is this blood, then, form'd but to be sbed? Can every clement our clements inar?

and air-earth-water-fire, live-and we dead? WC, whose minds comprehend all things? No moreButlet us to the story as before.

The purchaser of Jurn and acquaintance

Dore off liis bargains to a gilded boat,
Embark'il liimself and them, and off they went thenee

As fast as oars could pull and water tloat. They look'd like persons being led to sentence,

Wondering what next, till the caique was brought
l'p in a little creek below a wall
O'ertopp'd wish cypresses dark-green and tall.

Here their conductor tapping at the wicket

Of a small irou door, 'I was open'd, and
lle led them onward, first through a low thicket

Flank'd by large groves which towerd on either hani They almost lost their way, and had to pick il

For night was closing cre they came to land. Tir cumuch made a sign to those on board, Who rowd off, leaving them without a word.

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