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Or muse upon thy country's laws,
Or strike thy country's lute;
And lovely lips be mute.
The treasure from the mine ;
No woman's heart is thine !
“ I charm thee from the agony
Which others feel or feign; From anger, and from jealousy,
From doubt, and from disdain ; I bid thee wear the scorn of years
Upon the cheek of youth, . And curl the lip at passion's tears,
And shake the head at truth;
Forgetfulness in wine,
As woman is from thine!”.
THE MODERN NECTAR.
One day, as Bacchus wandered out
From his own gay and glorious heaven,
Below, 'twixt six o'clock and seven,
Which he and his fair crony Venus
Ere day on the Gog-Magog hills had fainted,
“Now may I," he lisped, “ for ever sit
And then he filled in triumph up,
On the late king of the Sandwich Islands.
BENEATH the marble, mud, or moss,
Which e'er his subjects shall determine, Entombed in eulogies and dross,
The Island King is food for vermin.
Preserved by scribblers and by salt
From Lethe and sepulchral vapours,
His character, the daily papers.
Well was he framed for royal seat ;
Kind, to the meanest of his creatures,
And open purse and open features;
And earned thereby the usual pensions,
A corpse of more genteel dimensions.
He warred with half-a-score of foes,
And shone, by proxy, in the quarrel ;
And deathless debt and deathless laurel
Whene'er his soldiers were victorious,
To make their sovereign ruler glorious ;
And days were set apart for thanks,
And prayers were said by pious readers,
And laurel lavished on their leaders ;
Though causes are too much to care for ;
While Folly asks the why and wherefore.
In peace he was intensely gay
And indefatigably busy,
Preparing gewgaws every day,
And shows to make his subjects dizzy, And hearing the report of guns,
And signing the report of gaolers, And making up receipts for buns,
And patterns for the army tailors,
And building carriages and boats,
And streets, and chapels, and pavilions, And regulating all the coats,
And all the principles of millions, And drinking homilies and gin,
And chewing pork and adulation, And looking backwards upon sin,
And looking forward to salvation.
The people, in his happy reign,
Were blest beyond all other nations; Unharmed by foreign axe or chain,
Unhealed by civil innovations ; They served the usual logs and stones
With all the usual rites and terrors, And swallowed all their father's bones,
And swallowed all their father's errors.
When the fierce mob, with clubs and knives,
All vowed that nothing should content them, But that their representatives
Should actually represent them, He interposed the proper checks,
By sending troops with drums and banners To cut their speeches short, and necks,
And break their heads to mend their manners,