LXXII. And fruits, and ice, and all that art refines From nature for the service of the goût,Taste or the gout,-pronounce it as inclines Your stomach. Ere you dine, the French will do, But after, there are sometimes certain signs Which prove plain English truer of the two. The simple olives, best allies of wine, I must, although a favorite "plat" of mine Amid this tumult of fish, flesh, and fowl, No damsel, but a dish, as hath been said; LXXIX. And look'd as much as if to say, "I said it; "- To bring what was a jest to a serious end; Juan was drawn thus into some attentions, Though probably much less a fact than guess) So far relax'd her thoughts from their sweet prison As once or twice to smile, if not to listen. Also observe, that like the great Lord Coke, Or none at all-which seems a sorry jest; If people contradict themselves, can I Help contradicting them, and every body, Even my veracious self-but that's a lie; I never did so, never will-how should I? And cut through such canals of contradiction, LXXXIX. Apologue, fable, poesy, and parable, Are false, but may be render'd also true By those who saw them in a land that's arable. "Tis wonderful what fable will not do! 'Tis said it makes reality more bearable: But what's reality? Who has its clue? Philosophy? No; she too much rejects. Religion? Yes; but which of all her sects? XC. Some millions must be wrong, that's pretty clear; But here again, why will I thus entangle And yet such is my folly, or my fate, XCII. But though I am a temperate theologian, As Eldon on a lunatic commission,- Bull something of the lower world's condition. It makes my blood boil like the springs of Hecla, To see men let these scoundrel sovereigns break law. XCIII. But politics, and policy, and piety, Are topics which I sometimes introduce, And stuff with sage that very verdant goose. And now, that we may furnish with some matter ai Tastes, we are going to try the supernatural. XCIV. And now I will give up all argument: And positively henceforth no temptation Shall "fool me to the top of my bent;" Yes, I'll begin a thorough reformation. Indeed I never knew what people meant By deeming that my Muse's conversation Was dangerous;-1 think she is as harmless As some who labor more and yet may charm less XCV. Grim reader! did you ever see a ghost? No; but you've heard-I understand-be dumb. And don't regret the time you may have lost, For you have got that pleasure still to come: And do not think I mean to sneer at most Of these things, or by a ridicule benumb That source of the sublime and the mysterious :For certain reasons my belief is serious. XCVI. Serious? You laugh:-you may; that will I not; My smiles must be sincere or not at all. I say I do believe a haunted spot Exists-and where? That shall I not reeall, Because I'd rather it should be forgot. "Shadows the soul of Richard" may appal: In short, upon that subject I've some qualms, very Like those of the philosophy of Malmsbury.7 XCVII. The night (I sing by night-sometimes an owl, XCVIII. And therefore, though 'tis by no means my way To rhyme at noon-when I have other things To think of, if I ever think,-I say I feel some chilly midnight shudderings, Between two worlds life hovers like a star, Our bubbles; as the old burst, new emerge, Lash'd from the foam of ages; while the graves Of empires heave but like some passing waves. VII. CANTO XVI. I. I merely mean to say what Johnson said, That in the course of some six thousand years, All nations have believed that from the dead A visitant at intervals appears; And what is strangest upon this strange head, 'Gainst such belief, there's something stronger still VIII. THE antique Persians taught three useful things,-The dinner and the soirée too were done, Horses they ride without remorse or ruth; The cause of this effect, or this defect, "For this effect defective comes by cause,"Is what I have not leisure to inspect; But this I must say in my own applause, Whate'er may be her follies or her flaws III. And as she treats all things, and ne'er retreats A wilderness of the most rare conceits, Yet mix'd so slightly that you can't complain, IV. But of all truths which she has told, the most I said it was a story of a ghost What then? I only know it so befell. Have you explored the limits of the coast Where all the dwellers of the earth must dwell? 'Tis time to strike such puny doubters dumb as The skeptics who would not believe Columbus. V. Some people would impose now with authority, Is always greatest at a miracle. But Saint Augustine has the great priority, VI. And therefore, mortals, cavil not all; 'Tis always best to take things upon trust. I do not speak profanely to recall Those holier mysteries, which the wise and just Receive as gospel, and which grow more rooted, As all truths must, the more they are disputed. The supper too discuss'd, the dames admired IX. The evaporation of a joyous day Is like the last glass of champagne, without Has sparkled and let half its spiret out, X. Or like an opiate which brings troubled rest, But next to dressing for a rout or ball, Thoughts quite as yellow, but less clear than amber The nights and days most people can remember, And Juan, on retiring for the night, Felt restless and perplex'd, and compromised; XIII. He sigh'd;-rhe next resource is the full moon, Which further to explain would be a truism. And the pale smile of beauties in the grave, [stern, The charms of other days, in starlight gleams Glimmer on high; their buried locks still wave Along the canvas; their eyes glance like dreams On ours, or spars within some dusky cave, But death is imaged in their shadowy beams. A picture is the past; even ere its frame Be gilt, who sate hath ceased to be the same. XX. As Juan mused on mutability, Or on his mistress-terms synonymousNo sound except the echo of his sigh Or step ran sadly through that antique house, When suddenly he heard, or thought so, nigh, A supernatural agent-or a mouse, Whose little nibbling rustle will embarrass Most people, as it plays along the arrass. XXI. It was no mouse, but lo! a monk, array'd He moved as shadowy as the sisters weird, XXII. Juan was petrified; he had heard a hint Of such a spirit in these halls of old, But thought, like most men, there was nothing in't Beyond the rumor which such spots unfold, Coin'd from surviving superstition's mint, Which passes ghosts in currency like gold, But rarely seen, like gold compared with paper And did he see this? or was it a vapor? XXIII. Once, twice, thrice pass'd, repass'd-the thing of air, Or earth beneath, or heaven, or t' other place; And Juan gazed upon it with a stare, Yet could not speak or move; but, on its base As stands a statue, stood: he felt his hair Twine like a lot of snakes around his face; He tax'd his tongue for words which were not granted To ask the reverend person what he wanted. XXIV. The third time, after a still longer pause, The shadow pass'd away—but where? the hall Was long, and thus far there was no great cause To think his vanishing unnatural: Doors there were many, through which, by the laws Of physics, bodies, whether short or tall, Might come or go; but Juan could not state Through which the spectre seem'd to evaporate. XXV. He stood, how long he knew not, but it seem'd And would have pass'd the whole off as a dream, XXVI. All there was as he left it; still his taper Burnt, and not blue, as modern taper's use, Receiving sprites with sympathetic vapor; He rubb'd his eyes, and they did not refuse Their office; he took up an old newspaper; The paper was right easy to peruse: He read an article the king attacking, And a long eulogy of "Patent Blacking." XXVII. This savor'd of this world; but his hand shook- |