No such sweet sights doth Limbo den immure, Hell knows a fear far worse, A fear-a future state ;-'tis positive Negation! COLOGNE. IN Köhln, a town of monks and bones, All well defined, and several stinks! Ye Nymphs that reign o'er sewers and sinks, But tell me, Nymphs! what power divine ON MY JOYFUL DEPARTURE FROM THE SAME CITY. As I am rhymer, And now at least a merry one, Mr. Mum's Rudesheimer Are the two things alone That deserve to be known In the body and soul-stinking town of Cologne. NE PLUS ULTRA. SOLE Positive of Night! Fate's only essence! primal scorpion rod- Arms the Grasp enorm― The Intercepter The Substance that still casts the shadow Death!- The unrevealable, And hidden one, whose breath Gives wind and fuel to the fires of Hell !--- Of both th' eternities in Heaven! Sole interdict of all-bedewing prayer, The all-compassionate! Reveal'd to none of all th' Angelic State, That watch the throne of Heaven! NAMES. I ASKED my fair one happy day, What I should call her in my lay; By what sweet name from Rome or Greece; Sappho, Lesbia, or Doris, Arethusa or Lucrece. "Ah!" replied my gentle fair, "Beloved, what are names but air? Choose thou whatever suits the line; Call me Sappho, call me Chloris, Call me Lalage or Doris, Only, only call me Thine.” LINES TO A COMIC AUTHOR, ON AN ABUSIVE REVIEW. WHAT though the chilly wide-mouth'd quacking chorus Yet, somewhat the broad freedoms to excuse, Swore they mistook him for their own good man. Men called him-maugre all his wit and worth Was croaked and gabbled at. How, then, should you, "One word with two meanings is the traitor's shield and shaft: and a slit tongue be his blazon!"-Caucasian Proverb. "THE Sun is not yet risen, But the dawn lies red on the dew: Lord Julian has stolen from the hunters away, Is seeking, Lady, for you. Put on your dress of green, Your buskins and your quiver; Lord Julian is a hasty man, Long waiting brook'd he never. I dare not doubt him, that he means And you his lady gay. O Lady! throw your book aside! I would not that my Lord should chide." Thus spake Sir Hugh the vassal knight To Alice, child of old Du Clos, As spotless fair, as airy light As that moon-shiny doe, The gold star on its brow, her sire's ancestral crest! She in the garden bower below Sate loosely wrapt in maiden white, O close your eyes, and strive to see Of flight and fear he stay'd behind, O! Alice could read passing well, And gods, and beasts, and men. The vassal's speech, his taunting vein, She rais'd her head, nor did she deign "Off, traitor friend! how dar'st thou fix Thy wanton gaze on me? And why, against my earnest suit, Does Julian send by thee? "Go, tell thy Lord, that slow is sure: Fair speed his shafts to-day! I follow here a stronger lure, She said and with a baleful smile The vassal knight reel'd offLike a huge billow from a bark Toil'd in the deep sea-trough, That shouldering sideways in mid plunge, And staggering onward, leaves the ear And Alice sate with troubled mien A moment; for the scoff was keen, There stands the flow'ring may-thorn tree! With tear-drop glittering to a smile, "Hip! Florian, hip! To horse, to horse! Go, bring the palfrey out. "My Julian's out with all his clan, And, bonny boy, you wis, Lord Julian is a hasty man, Who comes late, comes amiss." Now Florian was a stripling squire, That toss'd his head in joy and pride, But blush'd to hold her train. The huntress is in her dress of green,- And had not Ellen stay'd the race, It chanced that up the covert lane, A neighbour knight prick'd on to join And with him must Lord Julian go, He bit his lip, he wrung his glove, It grieves me sore to think, to say, Yet Love wants courage without a name ! Straight from the forest's skirt the trees |