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Steel Barons, molten the next generation To silken rows of gay and gartered Earls, Glanced from the walls in goodly preservation: And Lady Marys blooming into girls, With fair long locks, had also kept their station: And Countesses mature in robes and pearls: Also some beauties of Sir Peter Lely, Whose drapery hints we may admire them freely.
LXIX.
Judges in very formidable ermine Were there, with brows that did not much invite The accused to think their lords.h.i.+ps would determine His cause by leaning much from might to right: Bishops, who had not left a single sermon; Attorneys-general, awful to the sight, As hinting more (unless our judgments warp us) Of the "Star Chamber" than of "Habeas Corpus."
LXX.
Generals, some all in armour, of the old And iron time, ere lead had ta'en the lead; Others in wigs of Marlborough's martial fold, Huger than twelve of our degenerate breed:[mh]
Lordlings, with staves of white or keys of gold: Nimrods, whose canvas scarce contained the steed; And, here and there, some stern high patriot stood, Who could not get the place for which he sued.
LXXI.
But ever and anon, to soothe your vision, Fatigued with these hereditary glories, There rose a Carlo Dolce or a t.i.tian, Or wilder group of savage Salvatore's:[675]
Here danced Albano's boys, and here the sea shone In Vernet's ocean lights; and there the stories Of martyrs awed, as Spagnoletto tainted His brush with all the blood of all the sainted.
LXXII.
Here sweetly spread a landscape of Lorraine; There Rembrandt made his darkness equal light, Or gloomy Caravaggio's gloomier stain Bronzed o'er some lean and stoic anchorite:-- But, lo! a Teniers woos, and not in vain, Your eyes to revel in a livelier sight: His bell-mouthed goblet makes me feel quite Danish[676]
Or Dutch with thirst--What, ho! a flask of Rhenish.[mi]
LXXIII.
Oh, reader! if that thou canst read,--and know, 'T is not enough to spell, or even to read, To const.i.tute a reader--there must go Virtues of which both you and I have need;-- Firstly, begin with the beginning--(though That clause is hard); and secondly, proceed: Thirdly, commence not with the end--or, sinning In this sort, end at last with the beginning.
LXXIV.
But, reader, thou hast patient been of late, While I, without remorse of rhyme, or fear, Have built and laid out ground at such a rate, Dan Phoebus takes me for an auctioneer.
That Poets were so from their earliest date, By Homer's "Catalogue of s.h.i.+ps" is clear; But a mere modern must be moderate-- I spare you then the furniture and plate.
LXXV.
The mellow Autumn came, and with it came The promised party, to enjoy its sweets.
The corn is cut, the manor full of game; The pointer ranges, and the sportsman beats In russet jacket:--lynx-like in his aim; Full grows his bag, and wonder_ful_ his feats.
Ah, nutbrown partridges! Ah, brilliant pheasants!
And ah, ye poachers!--'T is no sport for peasants.
LXXVI.
An English Autumn, though it hath no vines, Blus.h.i.+ng with Bacchant coronals along The paths o'er which the far festoon entwines The red grape in the sunny lands of song, Hath yet a purchased choice of choicest wines;[mj]
The Claret light, and the Madeira strong.
If Britain mourn her bleakness, we can tell her, The very best of vineyards is the cellar.
LXXVII.
Then, if she hath not that serene decline Which makes the southern Autumn's day appear As if 't would to a second Spring resign The season, rather than to Winter drear,-- Of in-door comforts still she hath a mine,-- The sea-coal fires,[677] the "earliest of the year;"[678]
Without doors, too, she may compete in mellow, As what is lost in green is gained in yellow.
LXXVIII.
And for the effeminate _villeggialura_-- Rife with more horns than hounds--she hath the chase, So animated that it might allure a Saint from his beads to join the jocund race: Even Nimrod's self might leave the plains of Dura,[679]
And wear the Melton jacket for a s.p.a.ce: If she hath no wild boars, she hath a tame Preserve of bores, who ought to be made game.[mk]
LXXIX.
The n.o.ble guests,[680] a.s.sembled at the Abbey, Consisted of--we give the s.e.x the _pas_-- The d.u.c.h.ess of Fitz-Fulke; the Countess Crabby;[ml][681]
The Ladies Scilly, Busey;--Miss Eclat, Miss Bombazeen, Miss Mackstay, Miss O'Tabby, And Mrs. Rabbi,[682] the rich banker's squaw; Also the honourable Mrs. Sleep, Who looked a white lamb, yet was a black sheep:
Lx.x.x.
With other Countesses of Blank--but rank; At once the "lie"[683] and the _elite_ of crowds; Who pa.s.s like water filtered in a tank, All purged and pious from their native clouds; Or paper turned to money by the Bank: No matter how or why, the pa.s.sport shrouds The _pa.s.see_ and the past; for good society Is no less famed for tolerance than piety,--
Lx.x.xI.
That is, up to a certain point; which point Forms the most difficult in punctuation.
Appearances appear to form the joint On which it hinges in a higher station; And so that no explosion cry "Aroint Thee, witch!"[684] or each Medea has her Jason; Or (to the point with Horace and with Pulci)[mm]
_"Omne tulit punctum,_ quae _miscuit utile dulci."_[685]
Lx.x.xII.
I can't exactly trace their rule of right, Which hath a little leaning to a lottery.
I've seen a virtuous woman put down quite By the mere combination of a coterie; Also a so-so matron boldly fight Her way back to the world by dint of plottery,[mn]
And s.h.i.+ne the very _Siria_,[686] of the spheres, Escaping with a few slight, scarless sneers.
Lx.x.xIII.
I have seen more than I'll say:--but we will see[mo]
How _our "villeggiatura"_ will get on.
The party might consist of thirty-three Of highest caste--the Brahmins of the _ton_.
I have named a few, not foremost in degree, But ta'en at hazard as the rhyme may run.
By way of sprinkling, scattered amongst these, There also were some Irish absentees.
Lx.x.xIV.
There was Parolles,[687] too, the legal bully,[mp]
Who limits all his battles to the Bar And Senate: when invited elsewhere, truly, He shows more appet.i.te for words than war.
There was the young bard Rackrhyme, who had newly Come out and glimmered as a six weeks' star.
There was Lord Pyrrho, too, the great freethinker; And Sir John Pottledeep, the mighty drinker.
Lx.x.xV.
There was the Duke of Dash,[688] who was a--duke, "Aye, every inch a" duke; there were twelve peers Like Charlemagne's--and all such peers in _look_ And _intellect_, that neither eyes nor ears For commoners had ever them mistook.
There were the six Miss Rawbolds--pretty dears!
All song and sentiment; whose hearts were set Less on a convent than a coronet.
Lx.x.xVI.
There were four Honourable Misters, whose Honour was more before their names than after; There was the _preux Chevalier de la Ruse_,[689]
Whom France and Fortune lately deigned to waft here, Whose chiefly harmless talent was to amuse; But the clubs found it rather serious laughter, Because--such was his magic power to please-- The dice seemed charmed, too, with his repartees.