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Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at different reduction ratios. Thos9 too large to be entirely included in one exposure are filmed beginning in the upper teft hand corner, left to right and top to bottom, as many frames as required. The following diagrams illustrate the method: Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre filmte d des taux de reduction diffirents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seul clichA, 11 est film6 A partir de I'angle supArieur gauche, de gauche A droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images n6cessaire. Les diagrammas suivants illustrent la methods. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 e Bene one man see a ba( needs thi away Su TIIK CHARIVARI: OH CANADIAN POETICS: A TALE, AFTER THE MANNER OF BEPFO. Benedick.— Is it come to this— i'faith ?— Hath not tlie world one man, but he will wear his cap with suspicion ? Shall I never see a bachelor of threescore again?— Go to, i'faith ; and thou wilt needs thrusi thy neck into a yoke, wear the print of it, and sigh away Sundays. Shakespeaiie's Much ado about Nothing. Act 1st, Scene 1st. Montreal : PRINTED FOR THE PUBLISIIEK. IW»^^WW»>»^ verniitiun, Such as some poct^' in tiR'ir tales indite, \Vh(;n Fancy Heating them in Love's pavilion, Upon their heroines such tlatteries shower, And nictaniorphuse woman tu a liuwur. U Nut liehig such a votnry of Apollo, And all Love's rich vocabulary scannM, How to describ« the sex, tlieir graces hallow, As they were Peris from some fabletl land, I must the groveling— prosy way fain follow, And own, mine is no personage so grand ; No form of flowers, and fragrance decks my lay, But such as one sees mostly, every ibiy. I Or ear 12 Yet Annfttc was a %vidow ; there are sotnc, \Vho like the blown hkc, rather tlian the bud, Tho' the tirst incense of expanding bloom, Some sense hath fjastecl ; some the mid-day fltiod Of light prefer — to when the hours illume The morn — (Aurora harnessing her stud,) But it were ditHcult to say what station Suits man — tliat pendulum of vacillation. 13 I like thee Canada ; I like thy woods When Summer's splendour shines on every tree ; 1 like thy cataracts, and roaring floods As if, old Chaos in Titanic glee. Had set the elements in tuneful mowls To rack their voices in rude revelry; Thy Seasons too, when Nature can imprint her Steps on the green-»-but the deuce take thy Winter. I [ 7 ] H 'Tls pleasant to get rid of Home curs'd care Of arliin;; ninlaciy, or blustering people, Life Imth en()U;.<;h of ill for each nian's sliarCf And l'\)rtune's ladder gainless as a stecjile \\'itli no ascent to*t but a broken stair ; I'evv are there born, who do not oftener reap ill) Tiian gather ^ooil, for life we know, at best lb taie— and we, its riddle and its jest. 15 *Ti«* )»lcasant too to feel— no matter why Si'nsations of agreeable surprize ; Man loves variety, and when the sky TIath Kcorch'd for days, and Heav'n drops from its cye«^ Rain-showers; we thank it, being wondrous dry; All these things, when they suddenly arise Delight ; but unexpectedly a nose Or ear to lose, your fingers or your toes* 16 Is certainly not pleasant ; mighty Tlior The Scandinavian god, did this no doubt, AVith good intent ; having perceiv'd uhat war 'i'he passions wage, where the hot sun sliovvs out" Its rays in warmer climes, deem'd it a bore To set mankiiHi's weak senses to the rout, And so to cool the sad ellects of season. Sent his priest Boreas, to bring Love to Reason. 17 Rut Ixove is Tiove ; 'tis difficult to sav Where it asserts not its imperious power. In palace or in hovel— night or day, (Tho' people say that night's its loveliest hour) Do not .accuse nie, because I convey Wliat's known to all, and look a little sour. What hast thou never sigh'd, and never kiss'd, And art that prude in love, a Platonist? C 8 ] 18 Oil liOvo, infiistng (Irauglit of mwci'C, and acid, Oil Cupid, king of l)CHrt& ! say priiicvly niitiion, How many that would otherwise' have pdsHed Life without curcu—- when borne upon thy plnioiii Have l)een deprived of all their moments placid, Snar'd in tlic nets, thou spread'ht in thy dominion* How many lur'd with promises of frolic, Then left to groan beneath tlie spleen and chollc. Mwcct a Whic Cahii at ( 'hast l*urt' as HriK Soft as And 19 Princes or peers— the purse-proud, poor or peasant All fall in turn a victim to thy dart, Just as men shoot, at woodcock, snipe or pheasantf Wtpen ])ractis*d in that sanguiferous art, In fact, all sorts, and some not over pleasant, Hoaxes, thou play'st upon the human heart, Not to recount tlie many sins for certain Caus'd by thy wiles, behind Love's bed room curtain* Jlut par Tills From i! And But as ! And 1 fain V I'lead t\ SO Was it not thee, \i ho stirr'd great Alexander With 'I'ha'is by his side, to fire the porch. Of fam'd Persepolis — and yoimg Leander, Whose love tlie waters quench'd, tho' Hero's torch Shone bright to guide — myriads to whom a pander, Tliy aid hath been, besides — to kill or scorch; Not to omit poor Petrarch in his cowl. Thou mad'st to rove like any midnight owl. Jtnplisto As tl; AJniits And And by Thcii To clas For the 21 Or shall I hail thee, Love, as minstrels sing. Whose Muse inspir'd by rapture's glowing powers. Paint all thy blessings with the Iris wing Of Fancy — blooming as th'immortal bowers, "Where Venus' self rcclin'd— fresh as the Spring, And balmy as the breeze that breathes o'er Howers, Fair as the lily when at morn bedew'd And fragrant as the couch witli violets strew'd. And n( Save He ver A F That 't Ofi And h Fur frc [ J 2S Svvpct fts tlio tones which flow from niusic's rtiiinbcrs, Which o'er tlio waters mellows uU its sound, Calm us the zephyr when (ill nutiire shimbersf, Chnstu us Diana's orb in azure houmi, Pure us the vestal, whom no guilt enciiinbcrs, Hright as the vision of some fairy ground, Soft as the sunny radiance of the skies And us tile ebseacc sweet that never dlt*. 23 But pardon, gentle reader, that before ye, 'I'liis long (ligrei'ision's laid, and I have stopp'd From t!»e stright forward ^etjucl of my story, And amongst Cupid's darts, and mazes popp'tl But as some people like the amatory, And time of some few motnents may be lopp'd, I fain wouhi tell ye this, and having done, I'leud for your gmcc—- take breath, and no go on»r 24 Dnptistn, was a goo^incessant bore. 33 And thus, Baptisto single had remain'd, For with a wife he deem'd his cares would double^ Besides the bore he thought of being chain'd Without the means of getting rid of trouble, If such should prove the bargain he had gain'd, For like the rest of joys, he knew a bubble Was that same happiness below, call'd marriage, ^^Vliich ended ffcijuently in a miscarriage. [ 12 ] 34 After the many years of judgment passed, It seems quite Strang, a diii'ereut resolution^, Should all at once, upon bis sense have cast A change, so visible in its conclusipn, But so it was, his nearest friends at last. Latest impress'd, that Love's all strong infasioQ Had work'd its subtle poison in his frame, j3egan to joiq the ^blQ^^lk's acclaim. i^S Besides his cloaths had fabhion'd been of late, To the most novel cut,->-tlte dandiest Schneider AVas now consulted, and the vpry fate Of having his small cloaths, more; tight or wider Than taste prescrib'd, en;;ro8s'd his pride innate. And at a rout, whene'er he sat beside her. The laughable queer habit he /orsook Of twitching constantly his prim perru^ue. 96 Sit beside who you ask ?— Did I not mention. Some twenty stanzas back, a widow's iiame. Have Annette's charmsnpt cfiught then your attention? If so, 'tis I, not she, that is to Jblame ; Deuce take my mind's poetical invention, Which never will attain a niclie of fame ; What was she like, oh Muse?— Gome doji'tbc stupid At similes ; the mother of, boy- Cupid ? 97 Pshaw, that is flattery ; a lilly— fose, A gem — a star— the moon, for sweet vari€4;y» In her first quarter, \yhen she soHly glows, Who rules the tides to regular sobriety j (And if comparison, I may not close Nor overstep the bounds of verse-propriety,) Like her chaste simile, who sways the tides. So sways men's hearts, wi»er-er her dark eye glides. I C 13 ] 38 Oil, woman thou wort form'd for Lovo, — and Love Nurtur'd for thee ; — -thy very looks enthrone A symbol, and a charati of those abpve Whose attributes of being, are thine own ; Tlie air, that stirs around, where thou dost move Is fraught with incensj, — ^s the heav'nly zone Which our first parents witness'd at their birth For thou hast here, imparadis'd the Earth.— 39 Thou art the fountain of our purest pleasure As the fair altar of our warmest praise, Thy tender love, the heart's exhaustless treasure, From which man draws, the sunshine of his days,— Thy glowing charms, surpassing far, the measure Of word, or thought, to paint, — Iho' Fancy's rays Soar'd to the heavens, — where it alone could find A charm of grace,r— eclipsing womankind.— 40 And, where, the heart should stray, that once has seen Earth's various climes, where, woman, in the pride Of Beauty, most enamours l)y her mien And wins the soul, to thoughts beatified ;— Vain, vain, — indeed, to muse on every scene And every form, which memory on her tide— ^ Brings to the fond remembrance of the breast. By Beauty hallow'J, and by Love, impress'd.— 41 Shall Albion's daughters first inspire my lay,— The maids of Scotia, and the emerald Isle ?— Or thine, oh France, — all innocently gay, Italia's glowing with their look and smile,— Or fiiir Castille's, — whorp Love its warmest ray Hath beam'il, angelically, to beguile, — Or sailing on, hail those of Greecia's shore Where Sappho sung, and Helen charm'd of yore.- B [ n ] 42 Ijct, these, be miniher'd in some future song With thee, oh Hochelaga, — noted city, The present tributes of the muse belong: Beauteous, anil meek, — the pious, and the pretty All, all, commingled in the worship'd throng Aspiring to be charming or be witty ; — But, Imsh, — I hear the muse, will not admit There can be charms, seen in a female wit.— 49 Man, strikes the heart with powers which are his own ;- 'I'he forcible and grand, — the firm, and brave, To rouse the nndtitude with deed, or tone, To succour, and defend,— to seek, and save ;— 13ut, w Oman, should be tenderness alone, — Hers, is the sweetness of the summer wave, Which heaves its panting breast, and as it flows W^ins with the loveliness with whidi it glows. Lovt \h 44 Compare her cheek to the soft blooming rose, Contrast her eye-beam to the sapphire's blaze. Her jiarted lips, to fruit, on which there glows Crimson's rich tints — and her sweet smile which plays To fair Aurora's beauty, when she tln-ows Iler opening blushes on the face of day,— Her bosom, — to the consecrated shrine Of Love,— encircled with a charm divinej--— 4i5 Who would not love at this, — altho' at fifty (Such was Baptisto's age,) — and feelings grow Tiio older, we become, still the more thrifty, And count their means with the aU cautious throe Of prudence ; — In our youth we makf each sliift, I Uemembcr caring little what might go. In the extravagance of youth's excesses For funuing, — i'easiLing, — revels,- dice, — and dresses.- t 15 } 46 But now, that I am somewhat older grown I turn each shilling twice before I spend ; *' Experience makes us wiser," — is well known Yet, still I doubt, where Love's attractions blend Their strong magnetic qualities, — (so prone To lead us where they will,) — we can defend Our hearts,^when 'twixt. Reason and Love, — the schism (jrows desperate to our animal magnetism. 47 Love's a true alchvmist, — for as the flame Purges the gold, by heat the most intense So, he creates within the mortal frame A furnace of the heart, to bring the sense Of Passion to his purpose, — whilst the same Evil, arising, — we may inference From both,— for as, gold oft corrupts the mind So Love, inflames the feelings of mankind.— 48 *Tis well enough to talk of love ; — however Thanks to my fortunes, I've not felt his dart,— « God help the piteous mortal soul, — for never Did, tluj gods practise such a cruel art As that, which oft in spite of each endeavour Makes,^ a small mad house of the human heart,— Talk of the torments of that place below, To love, and to despair is deeper woe.— 49 Kot that I say, Baptlsto, did despair,— Hut oh,— poor man.— was wild in lover's mazes,- You've seen a clown in England, at a fair When expectation all his feeling raises. Hoping, in grinning thro' a collar there To bear the prize, and gain the rabble's praises : Of poor Baptisto, — fancy then at his age The ludicrous expression shewn, of visage.— [ 1(J ] So Whatever arc tlic hitiilrancos of youth Whicli bind ihcir modesty to fear's alarms, Yet, diffidence disturbs not age, forsooth j— The modesty of fifty, ne'er disarms Till! heart from an attempt,— howe'er uncouth 'Ihe manners are,— or destitute of charms The person, — so the purse hangs rich and heavy The suitor's weicoru'd at tlie lady's levy.— 51 And more than welcom'd, for Pa, smiles to catch Hi:s school-cotemporary by the hand, — Nor dreams, his years a barrier to the match, Whilst mammon's wings, on every side expand And Ma', too eyeing eagerly to watcli How, miss receives the lover she has plann'd Thinks, how the town will envy at her marriage Young Mrs. Thlngum, riding in her carriage. 5i3 And thus is it when parent's power enforces An act of tyranny upon their child, It opens out a channel,— where the sources Of misery spring, — ^and then of love run wild,-^ Of dire elopements,— duels, and divorces,— By means, at last of the young heart beguil'd j— Acts so enforc'd, — where ages great, disparage, Make, — (I'll not tell) — so plentiful in marriage. S3 But Annette was a person of that ilk Callied widows, — and Love's little charms had known Not one, who laid out snares, young men to bilk, And left them, then, to look, and die alone— (Her evening dresses, by the by, were silk, And gingham in the morning was her gown ;) But, oh, her pastry, 'twas said to surpass That of the cjuceii of pie-crusts, Mrs. Glass. C n ] 54 Now, pood Baplisto, was an Epicure, And lik'd good living, siirh as soups, and sauces* Ra<^outs, and curries, — but could not endure Your meats plain boil'd and roasted ; — his applauses Ran on made dishes, and no sinecure Did his cook have, amidst the doubts and pauses Of how to please the taste of one, who never Knew, how to suit, the cravings of the liver.— 53 Tlio liver is the cause of free dige'lion, For from it flows the bile, — and appetite Created or destroy'd by its connexion With other organs ; — But kind Nature, right In all her plans, made for her own protection To cause pure health, or curb the sensual might Of grosser feeders, — sets the bilious matter To war, with all the gluttons of the platter. 56 Whether it was the culinary merit. Or glance of blue, and dimple of her cheek Which set in motion, the elastic spirit Of fond desire, her second love to seek,— And made Baptisto, as he strove to dare it. Look like Acteon, (when inflam'd to wreak Her vengeance stern, Diana rais'd her hand And swift, transformed him,) witli her magic wand. 57 But not like Dian's yet in consequence,— Unless prophetic ministry could tell She would adorn her spouse, thro' some offence, With what, — I will no longer loudly knell, For fear of saying, what is low in sense Tho' sometimes very true,— each fool knows well, And every spouse, when for this sin of woman's He hears of lawyers* suits, and Doctors' Commons. B 2 J C 18 ] But, what have I to do with this alreadv, AVhen the tirst liuats of Love have scarce begun ? Conic, Pegasus, now curb thee, and be steady, We have as yet, an awkward course to run, Besides, who ever licard of taxing, " Lady" With what might be, until tlie thing is done. I hate those folks, who ever are suspicious, *Tii> loVw' of scandal, nuikes mankind so vicious, >row, Annette, had no frolic or vagary Beyond, the usual joys of mirth and revel— l\ire as a rose and p!ayfi.'-l as a fairy She scorn'd those feelings which will ever cavil. But was as meek^ — even as the Virgin Mary, And had no one inheritance of evil, Save that which all must have — bora to receive Their genealoizy from mother Eve. 60 Fve told you, Annette was as sweet a creature As ever, man, could wisli to call his own,— Graceful in form, and charming in each feature, Meekness in mind, and melody in tone, — She seem'd so fram'd, to model human nature So tliought her first spouse, — (and what's said is knowit To be quite true ;) — poor man, he went beyond His bounds,— and killed himself, from being too fond« 61 Like other frys, — Lovi? may be over-done, And not exactly to the stomach suited ;— Like otiicr other races,— may be over-run 'Till out of breath, — unless, by time recrtiitcd ;- Eggs, — by the by, 'tis said, improve the tone And strength of voice,— and truly if reputed, (Tho' 1 don't understand the reason why) Improve Love's power?, as well as voice or fj y< C 19 ] 02 Didst ever read Don Jiian,-i-if you've not Leave it alone,— that terrible Lord Byron Ilatli nurtured there a devil of a plot ;'— His verses, molten as the polish 'd iron Which dazzles yet endangers us,-^^ath got Nature pourtrayed,— as when dark storms environ, Yet the solt Iris, beaming o'er the wliolu Brilliant, and beautiful to woo the soul* «3 It wins with its enchantments, and displays Amidst the thunder of his awftil lay All the soft harmony of heavenly rays Which cajjtivate, and bear the heart away ; We start and tremble, yet we pant and praise, Ev'n as the maiden, whose fond thoughts survey Her lover, known to be imi>erfeet still, Yet loves, and looks,— despite her half-form'd will. 64 But hark, I hear a tnoralist exclaim,— " How canst thou ]f»raise at all,— -'tis dreadful shocking'^ *' Who, but a soul of Satan e'er couW -frame " A poem,— which our character is mocking " In every li'n6?''-i-For iny part I'm to blame,— But not being fortunately, a blue stocking Nor of the sex, have something to learn still, Why he who speaks Truth boldly, sliould do ill* 65 It certainly would tather be alarming If folks, for instance wt^re no cloatlis to wear— You've seen the " Venus Medici,"— how charming The beau-ideal represented there,- And the Apollo ;— yet there seems no harm in Exhausting feeling in insatiate stare By maids, and matrons ;— why should we distress Poor Truth then, with Hypocrisy's vile dress. [ 20 ] 66 I hate deception under any giUNC, Diit mostly under virtue's, and to nay What's witness'd constantly by all our eyes And echoed to our ears, each passing day Is crime to puhlisii, and to satyri/e Admits a doubt, — but Truth is, that we play All our parts badly, and when found in fault, Exclaim, ♦' tu quoquCt'^ likewise, and revolt. 67 All are imperfect, and this Byron, durst Speak boldly out, whether of sage or hero ;—■ lie praises sparingly, — and to be just, Has all his feelings too much down at zerot Save when his thoughts to woman's love, are vers'd. But on most other subjects,— acts like Nero, Who fiddled as Home blaz'd,— but who is he That loves not satire's aim in some decree ? 68 'Tis Rocliefoucault, who tells us in a maxim,— *' There's something in th'adversity of friends ** Which does not quite displease us ;" — Byron backs him, As I suppose, when he so oft extends To all, his satire, — (though not fair to tax him,) But Man,— his mind so seldom rightly lends To Ileav'n,— 'twere hard to say and scan Earth's throng. If liochefoucault and he, are much in wrong. w % 69 What is the life of all,— but will of power Or wish of avarice, — tilling up the mind,— Pride fires the soul, — whilst Envy is the dower Its never varying prejudices find ; — And Charity,— that all its means should shower. Alms, — aid,— advice,— to benefit mankind, Too often flows from the corrupted stream Of vanity, — its vices to redeem. C 21 ] 70 But this is prosing ;— 'twas, as I remember A sparkling, frosty, and unclouded day, One of those, we so often in December Have seen, tho* Sol, then with phlegmatic ray, Gives no more wurnitii, (than would a dying embev With its last spark,) as the year Hits away j 1)ut it was frosty, and folks called it fme^ With hoary Hyems, — seated at his shrine. 71 It might be fine, perchance, and healthy weather. But I cant't say it's suited to my taste ; III robe of fur, or raiment made of leather, Ijike some strange animal profoundly cas'd Hits not my airy fancy altogether j— Nor do I like the feeling of nerves brae'd When the stern rigours of the cold benumb To the sensations of a mulfled drum. 72 him, ng, I You comprehend this meaning, I suppose ; If not, — about thirty degrees below The point of zero, fastening on your nose, (As I have said) or on your hand or toe, Will bring your comprehension to a close Sooner than any other thing I know ; With hail, and snow, as if for days together The Gods had liv'd on geese, — and tossed the feathers. 73 From out their cloud-built mansions ; yet to many Such things have their delightsj-^-to me 'tis strange They should prefer it,— as 1 like days rainy, (If the high priest of weather must have change From clear to clouded skies,)— ^sooner than any In all the stormy atmosphere's wide range^— ^ But, what think ye, — of being found— (tlig' odd,) As stiffly frozen as a tommy cod ?<-« C 22 ] 74 Tlio ultra clininx of nil preservation,— To whifli tir Figyptinn's art ot* immiiny-fying Were a poor ottering quite, of consolation To keep the frame, unputrified on dying,— That is* pr*ovided,— S I's considorHtion Would hide his heanis, to keep the skin from frying ;- But with the frost, the flesh looks so like marble,— I'Lat you might riny, it wuf,— the *' yt'W/aWf."— • Hut with ISIatjy Soon as i These The fram Your I But such 'J 'hose, w 75 Tlie sculjitor's then would be a sorry trade, Ye powers, — how many would we then behold Stuck up in mortal effigy ; — array'd Aii deities upon the shrines of old ; And Hook's Pantheon, tho' it hath display'd Olympus and its gods, — could not imfold— Widi Jove himself, — with Ilereules, or Venus So mutli, pride, strength, (or chastity between us.)— Behold, t Heady, Kul'd by And rt Away, th Career, And are i Of the 16 Reader, you've been in Canada, — if not I would not have you, on what I've express'J Rely ; — we all our fantasies have got ;— *' Dc gHsltbus nou disputandum est ,-'* But if to travel there should be your lot. Do not tax me, if you go lightly dress'd,— Remember to take worsted drawers and flannel Nor think of these, when in the Irish Channel. 77 For of all maladies of any schism Which spring from natural or moral causes There 's nothing half so bad as rheumatism, That tiresome, irritating pain, which gnaws us, Is worse than any stubborn syllogism Which words cannot make good j nor ever pauses In its dire achings, — irritating yet, As i>ome curs'd scold, — whos' ever on the fret. .V But then And, ( This resb Suppo: It makes A toss Tor Ilyn And tlit'y i ^ Thelii I diaii, or to \ lion of its n "i ?iL'c'(*\sarv t( "i Joundin tin % iwc^i on tlie [ 23 ] 78 Kilt with the winter, atlfl the frost tlierc come*;, Many good pastimes, sucN as sleigh, and skate Soon as the snow, nn(i ice, the grass entombs liiesc are the measures t^'en to retreate Tlie frame,— particul tIv if it hums Your hihours up with 'iroken limit, or pate, JUit such sli^^ht accidents, alone can check 'J'liose, w!io aie fooU enough to risk tlieir neck.— 79 BehoKl, the sU'i.sary to describe the term " Caliot," which is a rut or hollow I found in the snow, by the cariole or traineau, passing along its sur- face on the snow flr.^t falling. [ 2^ ] 81 Or ache, or accident,— for there are few Who choose so carefully, as uot to fall Sometimes in error, or mistake, — and rue The portion honey'd o'er,-^thp' tpo oft gall Savours beneath, as apples which men view Round the Asplialtes Lake, — and under all Their bright luxuriancy, but dust contain As if to slievv us, all below was vain,-— 82 What mortal is there who's not given to Folly, Some way or other in bis roving life, — It were impossible to reason wholly Where true perfection is completely rife,— For too much Reason, makes us melancholy As too much frolic sets the soul at strife — The captious world grows prudish at much laughter, Joining tlie mirth, then scandalising after. 83 4 ■k'. So that those people not much given to care Or what is better turn'd, not being hippish, Are sure censoriousneso will be their share When fun and feeling in them becomes skippish, And there are such temptations -to ensare The soul no way inclin'd in being sheepish. That 'twould be odd, if any one escapM Of being damn'd, denounc'd,- abus'd, or ap'd, M If- . f I And what could poor Baptist© do,— but given To like a little laughter, — nothing more — , He was a soul, who thought that gaining Heaven Was no ways bought, by seeming jaundic'd o'er With spleen and care, — (schismatically driven As a vile wanderer on the Stygian sliore,) The evils of to-day, — suffic'd his reason, — To-morrow's, — would come soon enough in season. [ 2J ] 8/ Days glided onwards, as most momentf! drt, A certain medley of both hopes, and fears,— Desires, and doul)ts, with dissipations too, Smiles, at this hour, and at th' cnsui g, tears ;— Nature presents both aspects to our view, But in her mirth, more often a mask wears 1'lian we suspect :— so little is the po»'tion Pleasure ma]kes real,— who brings fortli an abortiont 86 And what arc its abortions; — wants, cnnui, Desires, temptations, — restlessness of change^ Extravagance and folly, — which we see In fashion's futile mimicry and range, These, all arise, from the cupidity Of Pleasure's pastimes, which at length estrange All sober habits,'^such as greatly shock Tlie soul who goes to bed at ten o'clock— 87 But wherefore preach ;— has not the world for ages, JIad sermons, — lectures, essays, penn'd to guide us, Tracts,— strictures written, 'till the countless pages, Would paper over, all the Georgium Sidus And satellites too ? — mankind such warfare wages With pen, and ink, to teach what will betide us If we go wrong ;---and yet with all this teaching I don't think, we improve much, by the preaching. 88 What thought Baptlsto ? and what thought Annette ? Their minds were now absorb'd in other measures, For Love will keep its followers on the fret Alloying frequently their choicest pleasures. And as the heart gets deeper into debt With its own feelings,— oft exhausts the treasures i)i Hope, and fancied Happiness ; — so real A connoisseur is Love of the " ideal,'* C C 26 ] 89 Not tliat bright Hope, — was, at all clouded tliere But beam'd a jneteor,— beauteous as the light Of Annette's eye, — which, 'neath her raven hair Flasli'd forth like Dian's, under veil of night ChuKten'd, and crystaliz'dj and was the lair, Of tender looks, — wiiich animation bright Ilaliow'd with loveliness,— and, — and sweeter things "Which wq;uan's glance bears 9U its doye-Uke wiugs,- $0 You've heard, Baptisto, was a bachelor With fortunp, term'd in easy circumstanceS| He had no curse of being leagued in war With poverty,— no straiten 'd sour finances As to have duns, each morning at his door To mar his breakfast-meal with stern advances :• That partnership of Poverty, and Co — Is one, unpleasant iu th* extreme to know.— t ri 91 At least I've found it so,— tho' you perhaps May have been favour'd by that fickle jade, "Who, some times showers profusely in our laps, And makes her heights, an easy escalade j— r Curse her inconstancy, — ^if like poor Nap's Career, — she ends the labours of our trade Whether it be, for empire,— Love, or money To give us .gall, when we expected, honev.— 7 92 Baptisto's share was honey now, — secur'd As far as Hope, can make us deem we are, In any thing below, not quite insur'd Perpetually to shine, as doth the star,— • And after half a century endur'd Of martyrdom in solitude's dull bar, Or single blessedness,— which e'er you please, Found Hymen come to tickle with its siieczvv T 2? 1 93 1 recollect some thirty years ago For I am old, and these things pass with years, Once to have felt the heav'n inspiring glow Of Love,— which all the youthful soul endears, To one fair ohject, as the feelings flow Warm, pure, and fervent,-~-when no vale of tears Hath cross'd our youthful wand'rings,— and no care IIus fallen to our unembitter'd share.— 94 Aiul tho' 'tis pas!, I can recount with somd Pleasure of memory's smile, that such hath been,i \V!icn from the studious toil, I hasten'd home Where every:wish, enraptur'd all the scene And found the welcome sweet,— for those who come From far, to find Health, sparkling in each mien ; But above all to see one face, more dear Than all beside,— o'erjoy'd e'en to a tear.—* 95 And these are things, which make us so regret 7 Parting witli life,— kind friends, — soft smiles,— sweet eyes ;■ When Death endangers, and gives as a threat. That from our sickness, we no more, may rise ;— Cares, may encompass sometimes,— we forget Ev'n cares, when true affections sympathize,— Envy may reach,— and Calumny may dart,— But ue live, safe, at least, in one fond heart.-^ . . J>6: And he who hath kYiown this, — hath tasted Jo^ From its pure fountain, gushing into siglit,— When no one stain hath mingled to alloy The i^ncontaminateil lip's delight Which first sips this, — when manhood, from the boy Steps forth, to woo, the hopes which so invite Tlie dawning fancy on its youthful wing, fimiling and swec^ as the first bloom of Spring.-— I' E 28 ] 97 But as years crocp, — cares heap upon the head A thoasan<^ burthenti,— and our natures prono To iuii)erfection, fatelully are led In errors, >vhieli the heart cannot disown ; Tliese we may shun, in pondering where we tread« lint there are ills, Adversity hath sown Along ouripath, — whicli come, despite of all; And like some ^taro, assuredly must lUlU— * 93 But to my tale ; — behold, the vow was pass'd Which uKuie Baptisto happy,.^at the least ^liidc him suppose, that all his hopes, amass'd In one sole object, where his eyes could feast Intensely,— was his happiness at last ;— It only wanted now, the ring, and priest, To tix his fate, — the dame was all consent :— I liopc; like some folks, tliey would not repent— 00 For tliey had wooed as do most other lovers, And many a raillery on their wooing pass'd,— And then the tell-tale blush which most discovers Some ieeling, hold& the heart of woman fast, Sutt'us'd, and glowing as when sunset hovers And a ricU hue o'er Nature's cheek is cast :— But the world talk'd, — setting its tongue at work Oa what,— touch'd it, no more, tliau the Grand Turk.- I 100 The day arriv'd,— the clock had now struck " Seven,*'—' A clear cold night, — the moon was in the sky And seem'd to shine, more beautiful, that even Than she was wont,— the stars were spread oa high« Bespangling o'er the azure arch of Heaven : A glorious, golden fretted canopy ;— It was th' appointed hour,— to seal the fate Of Aimett;.'''!5, and JSapiisto'a singb stiitv'.-^' [ ^9 3 101. The wedding party met, and there was seated Annette's papa, and ma',— her sister, — brother,— The first was bred a surgeon,— but he treated Cases of physic too,^-or any other Which added to his practice,— and had cheated (As it was said,) — Death of some later pother In being before-hand with him,— and ending His patient's pains,— wliich is one way of mending,^^ 102 Altho' not the most pleasant,— then his son, Plis father's counterpart, was smiling Billy Who, also, in the practice had begun And look'd a very Bolus,— rather silly But quite good-natur'd, and more fond of fun Than Physic, — whilst, the sister like a lily All white appear'd, — and Ma', whose orange gown For twenty years, at least,— had grac'd the town.— • 103 Tlien came Baptisto's friend,— an honest chap To act his father upon this occasion,— Which in reality, (as by mishap Report made known,) his kind consideration, Had done to others ; — Nature's is a lap Tlie softest, and the sweetest in creation. And Love, without a chain, has charms, tliey say. Beyond the zestj of law's more fetter'd sway.— 104 And there was Dibs,, the merchant and his spouse. And daughter too, a schoolmate of the bride, His trade was wholesale, and the wealthiest house Upon this side, the vast Atlantic's tide, — And then a great North- Wester, Sammy Grouse Alias, term'd " Buffalo," — who terrified His hearers, with the wonderful relations Of allj he'd seen, amongst the Indian Nations, c2 I , 1 i: 30 3 105 He'd talk to you, of beaver, and of bear, 'Till your hair bristleii as upon their backs. And how, he liv'd for days upon such fare As bark, stew'd down, 'till you believ'd the acts And of grass soup ; — next,— he would make you staro Of wrestling with a buifalo,— -and facts I scarcely dare, in seriousness here mention, I'or ftar you'd think they were my own invention. 106 Then of the savage tribes,— and of the squaw*, Lord, how he'd prate with intellectual chatter, The Crees, — the Castors, — and the Chicasaws, And hundred other one's, — but of the latter (The squaws, I mean), where Love, has no curs'd lawa To make a jurisprudence of the matter His praises grew exstatic, in their service,— Isor wonder, when, you know, Sam, was no Dcrvisc.— 107 ■ H ^\i n ** For in those cold, clad regions, where the weather " Runs down to fifty below zero's point," Why, Sam, would say, " to keep the soul together *' With fraifte, — and rheumatism from each joint ** Requir'd some substance like a bed of feather '♦ It) cause the radical heat, so to anoint " The body over with its perspiration, — ♦' To keep its vigour, in due preservation."— 108 Then of the party too, came lawyer Shark— Who lik'd no law, so well as a good diiuier,— And laugh'd at Sam^ who spoke of eating bark, Saying, "indeed? — you must have got nmch '! inner;' And yet the fawer could make trite remark And had prevented many a flagrant sinner^ (By quibble, quirk, and eloquential hum) aiakinijhis ' * " '"' a » uxit/' like a pcndttluni,— Btyot Of Who Of The e To Whicl Aros(j .lii I [ 31 ] 109 But before all arriv'd — now he, and Sam, Got in to argument on those sad matter!* Which, ia the North, occurr'd— this said, ♦* I am " Most positive, that Selkirk, sham'd '* the Ratters,*' At which odd sound, — Sam, answer'd with " a damn" And said aside,—" lord, how the jackdaw chatters 3"- Whilst Shark talk'd on, saying " I can assure ye " You were all wrong, de facto f ct de jure.'* 110 At length, a loud rap, whilst they held this farce on, Caus'd a slight silence in this wordy two,— When with his book and register, the parson Enter'd, and made their oratory clue All canvass up, — for Sam's mind, soon to arson Had been enflam'd, so high his feelings grew Whilst Shark an insult courted,— on the itch For a law-suit, — knowing that Sam was rich,— ' 111 They were all met now, — ^but I fain miist menfloa Beau Beamish, and two sisters, but the elder Said a bad cold prevented her intention Of being there, — the fact is, what withheld her Was the dislike of finding her deckhsioa Into the lists of old maids, when age quell'd her Bright dreams of Hope, and therefore direly hated To go, where she saw others elevated, er 112 Beyond her rank of Miss ; — for at the age Of forty, and beyond, when younger iMisscs Who were not born, when she first trod the stago Of life, at dances, dinners, routs, (for this is Tlie entree of a belle's first pilgrimage To Love's young shrine,) — had long receiv'd the blli;ses Which marriage showers,— no wonder, that the bile Aroso; to jauaclite y'tr her luoki^; iind amllc. t 32 3 113 Hicn, there Tras aunfy I\rargaret,— lacM and capped With t rich satin, which had been in vogue About the time, when first, the Fronde, en wrapt All France in it,— from Lyons to La Hoguc ;— Not to forget, gay Captain Casey, — strapp'd l^-om head to heel in gold,— who spoke the brogue In all its elegance, — and as to cousins And their connexions,— they came by the dozens. 114 You know what sort of thing a wedding is,-^ Therefore I need not occupy your leisure In recapitulating every kiss Relations gave each other,— when the pleasure Of seeing two united in one bliss Was consummated by the priest, (a measure Which must be done,) and the affair was over. And wife and Iiusband transform'd from the lover. 115 They feasted, frolick'd now ; — all sorts of funning Went on with spirit,— dancing for the young- Cards for the old, (who had giv'n over running) Were the convivial sports, — whilst raillery's tongue Jok'd the new pair,— and Casey, fond of punning When he could get a listener, among Those, who surrounded,— set his wits to fret. And said Baptisto had got in a net* 110 But Annette took all frolic in good part, Even the Captain's pun, altho' so bad,— For she was all good nature to the heart, And rarely knew, what it was to be sad ;— All had throughout been merry, save the tart Words, between Sam, and Shark,— but tliey had had So 'many onsets Avith such like offences. That both knew how to parry conseq^uences* r 33 ] 117 The clock struck twelve ; — it was the hour for rost^ Particularly for a new-match'd pair,— The doves of Venus, lay upon her breast Nestled in tenderness, — all softly there,—* It was the time for those who being blest With Love's return, seek its enchanting lair. And couct sweet Nature's languishing desiro To woo soft sleep, and to its couch retire. 118 The happiest friends must part, so off they went. Some to a sound, and some to restless sleep,— T!ie old, had no wild visions to prevent Tlieir aged souls from rest,— no dreams to sweej^ Jn rich luxuriance,— as if Queen Mab sent Her clii^rioteer across their nose to creep ;— But in the young, — tis difficult to say How far her magic influence held its sway* 119 As Sliakespeare tells,— the fairy queen presides^ And as the heart in slumbering reposes. Now o'er the balmy lips of maiden rides, Whose breatli is, as the perfume of sweet roseSp Wlio, dreams of kisses, and of atight besides Wiiich the voluptuous little eltin chooses To charm the brain with, and o'er every range Of years, or purport, acts with varied change. 120 Kow for the Pluses' sake,— be it suppos'd Tliat at the least, two hours had tlitted on. And all the wedding party slept, or doz'd, Saving tli,e bridal couple,— tho' upon Tlitir joyous footsteps, let the veil be clos'd,— Perhaps kind Morpheus had usurp'd the throntf Of Cupid by this time, — for even Love Mubt have its rest, as nightingale, or dove* t 3^ ] 121 And if It hail/— It was a grievou^s thiiiff To have it waken*(t up by rude alarms. To scare sweet slumber on its downy win^ When it repos'4 in soft enchantment's arms. And that so soon, after it droop'd, — to brin;? Fresh hours of rapture with the morning's chamw^ But all at once, as if the house 'twould shattery Tlicre rose a tintinubulary clatter. n Vz2 A noise of drum, and kettle, whistle, liorriy As if Kinj;- Oberon had arm'd the fairies To ride the air, on noisy errands borne, And play a thousand fanciful vagaries ; Or rather, as if iEolus had torn The winds, at>once from their cloud-circled ain^;. To blow and bellow with a certain force Of sound,— -in moan and tone, both slirill and hoaTSe* 123 JBut know,— *ti3 not at all a way rdma /ic To have a poem, or a tale, without Some sad disaster, or some being frantic "With sentiineats of love, or fear or doubt^ Hope, grief, despjur, and everj' other antic Which poets can invent or fancy rout From out the kalendar of thought and Time To give its cast, a seasoning of sublime. 124 Annette woke first, and hearing such a medley Of mingled sounds, and at a time of night When every thing around looks grim and deadly. By the lamp's pale and dimly glimmering light. Gave her lov'd lord a shake, who, as his head lay Close by her side, snor'd forth in concert quite To the odd sounds, which in the street she heard But who, at this first summons bad not stirr'd. C 35 ] 125 The sounci iiicreasM ; 'till thundering at the dooif Palsied tier de^catc limbs,— her voice forsook. Its inusicnl domain,— -whilst her lord's snore Still groan'd aloud,— again,-— again, she shook (For her tongue fiail'd), more sharply than before, When with a sudden, startled boimd, which took All her remaining power away, witli fright,— Jiaptisto juiyp'd, and r^s'd himself ypright, 126 Unconscious of the noise ;— he star'd around (For Reason had not yet reta'en its sway) And hurried forth these words of queerest sound, " IIolo, — my wife's not dead,"— away, away." '< Annette, Annette," then with his arms he wound Here lovely form,— all speechless as she lay,— " Why, what's the ^natter, "—whilst returning sense ^icliev'd himi as he heard the bloyes intense. 127 The noise was s;trange,^^ — but stranger still bis figure, Who, in his night-cap, and his sliirt up, jump'd. And seizing an old pistol,— held the trigger Ready tor bloodshed,— whilst his nerves now pump'di All his heart's courage, which swell'd somewhat bigger As the shouts bellow'd louder, and hands tlmmp'd, And opening forth, the sliutter there beheld A sight, as if the city had rebell'd . 128 Against his marfiage ;— there were men, and boys, And, God knows who, all ;— some with blacken'd face$ And some with masks, — those hypocritic toys Wliich libel Niiture into odd grimaces ; With every sort of implement for noise, Join'd to the yell of fools, and bray of asses,-—* But above all,— one group, equipp'd and dre&s'd JUcserves to be describ'.d, beyond the rest. t 30 1 Within the centre, on sottic quadruped, For whether horse, or poney, nuile, or nsa, W'oiihl he most difficult to say,— as spread Over its hide were things of every elass Which I'\)lly coukl procure, or Fancy's head In ridicule or satire so amass,—- iJut on this animal of some queer genus U'here sat a youthy— though not the boy of Venu?, 130 3?ut one whose raiment mimic'd all the dyes Of the bright Jris, with its varied hue, JBepatch'd, aud harlequin 'd,—vvitli paunch, whose sli^c Surpass'd Sir Hudibras', or Falstaflf's too;— And visage cas'd within a mask's disguise, To which vile Caliban, in every view (Nor yet comparison, more closely follow) jlad sccm'd Antinous, or Apollo. 131 • r Bui of the strangest part of tliis strange wight, 'lliere rose majestically high, array 'd A pair of horns, which in their towering height Surpass'd most antlers, which were e'er display'd Uy stag, or goat, and seeni'd a pattern quite Or I \«ay say, a sign of some odd trade, But wherefore deem'd, \\ hen so profusely crown'd 1 leave for sager reasoners to expound. 132 And by this figure, there stood one, no doubt, Willi meaning, to personify, old Time, Whose Haxen locks, which fell in curls about His shoulders, certainly look'd most sublime ; His scythe, was most tremendous, — but without His wings, which he forgot, (as 1, my rhyme Too oft when in a hurry ;) — all in all He look'd antique, ajiid awful, — gaunt, and tall. rirst, An( A s an Tir« Whost Am Tho* Trick, ■* < S' Z 37 ] 13J Tlic crowd around were of a motley Kort, All shout, and bustle,— wantonness, — vulgarity,— Some vicious, as the hirelings of a court (Nor speak of these things, with a marked disparity,)- And some ii frolic, made it a report, For such a crowd in Canada's a rarity, Not as in England,— where your mobs', a measure lor people to declare their " Freedom's" pleasure. 134 Jolm Bull is fond of rows, — if nothing more Tlian to declare, what he terms, ** Independence i'* His " Magna Charta," — " Uefomiation's" roar Of Liberty with him has the ascendance, "When'er he thinks that you would close the door Against his Freedom's will ;— the smallest tendcnco To bar his rights,— Hunt,— Hone, — or any job,-* (No matter what,) are pretexts for a mob ;— 135 You've seen a mob, — perchance at an Elertion, For instance,— Westminster's,— if e'er you went, ■Where, there are persons for the stern protection Of Constitution,— chos'n, to represent A mass of others,— and this same selection Is term'd " the Common's House of Parliament ;'* The jurf.sprudence, ruling o'er the nation The same, that caus'd King Charles* decapitation. 136 Pirst, there's your Tory, now so high in fame, And in each news monger's wide mouth as pat A s any other more than common name Tiresome to sound ; and means " Aristocrat ;'* Whose wisest measures tow'rds poor Nap, took aim And laid his proud schemes of dominion, flat,<-« The* some cry out they never knew so mean, a Trick, as to keep him, coop'd at St. Helena.— C 1 C 38 ] 137 Tlion there's the Whig, or alias *' Opposition," ' VVIto, 'gainst the Tories raise a strong demur, And calling every day for their disnnission, 8;iy, that their judgments on each measure,— err,- But, to my mind, tho' no great politician 'Tis for their places, that they make such stir, Ifow'er their actions, — whether good, or ill, •Old England seems to keep, her standard, still.— • They'll Upoi As spei And Ivlost s): 1 o lii But thei Bars an 138 Tlien, your Reformer comes,— who thinks each measure, Conjur'd within his brain, must be much wiser, Than those, which Britain has esteem 'd its treasure For generations past,— a mark'd despiser Of old establish'd rules, —who, for his pleasure Says, " 'tis Reform we need, you may rely. Sir ," Such are these fools,— one of the ranting set,— As W n, C- 1, H e, and B 1.-^ But I fo Standi And that Most ] But he V And s) Whilst A Cried out 139 But to my readers, — ^let me here avow it, Lest, by mistake, or not, they should suppose I deem'd them, uninform'd as not to know it. And pros'd on Parliaments, and dar'd to prose,— w But 'tis enough to say, I am a poet, — Poet's are licens'd every body knows,— Therefore, I will not utter more excuses But stand to critics, cavils, and abuses.— « Oh, sad, Oh, fei What hari Spoilinj Pajtitula/ With b Tor, non«[ II 140 Besides in Canada,^Hke other placesf, Have you not parliaments,— aye— staiinch one's all,— Particularly so,— too,— when the cases, Upon supplies, or on finances fall,— TTie reason obviously clear to trace is,— They understand, " the Arithmetical,— Protit and Loss, — Tare,— Tret— Discount or Barter,— • And any " Bill,"— better than " Mngna Charta."— , 'PI liie mi " mi solidly [ S9 3 141 They'll knock you, Tlesolutiong, down with clamour Upon all subjects, understood, or not, As speedily as dry ^ooda to the liaminer And think th* entail of I^iberty han got Most specious* pleaders, (barring slips of gramtwttr) To l»ind their privilegcH to a spot, But these, " soi-disant" patriots, — their communion Bars any creed, whose psalmody is " Union,"— 142 asure^ all,— ter,— But I forgot, that I had left my hero, Standing, poor fellow, only in his shirt. And that, with the thermometer at zero, Most probably, would do him, monstrous hurt, But he was, a most valiant Cavaliero, And stood, with nerve, and limb, on the alert Whilst Annette, now recovered from her swoons, Cried out, " piay, love,— -put on your pantaloons j"- 143 Oh, sad, disastrous night,— oh, liglitning, thunder,— Oh, feuds of nations, or domestic quarrels, Wliat hands, and hearts do ye oft tear asunder Spoiling all mirth, and fun,— or spoiling morals, raiticularly those, who must knock under With bleeding nose, and face, or tarnish'd laurels, For, none, whatever be their rank, or station. Whose I'ride 's not sore, at getting inolestation,— . " T!ie meaning of this word, according to Atterbury, signifies ;" Jiut solidly rigl.t." C 40 ] 114 And, why tliis hur'iy-!>nrly now, — yclept C/iarirari, — \\ litnco was tlie tenp dciiv'd?— . I'll Icavo some literati move adopt At tfUIng you,— w!)y Custotn had contriv'd To make it customary, — it had crept Into repute, — when'er a widow wiv'd With baclielor ;— or widower with spinster And set the wags of sporting humour, in stir.— » 145 But my opinion, if not deem'd romantic Supposes 'twas imported here about The time Jacques Cartier, came across th' Atlantic And put the tribes of savages to rout "Where heretofore, — N:iture was wild and antic, And men, and women roam'd the woods, without ISIore cloaths, than Adam, or than Eve, invented AVith leaves, to hide the sexes, being idcnted j— 146 And certainly, about the time, Apollo,— (That is t';e sun) showers down beams perpendicular, (Instance July, or August,) — then to follow A mode of dress in some way made, reticular-— Is pleasanter assuredly than wallow In woollens,— which, ('twixt you and I, auricular Jd est, in secret,) is the nastiest fashion Of keeping up, a violent perspiration.-— 147 However, as the atmosphere now stood Some deaths, at least, had not been deem'd unpleasant, }3ut yet, JJaptisto, — (whether Fear imbrued A certain glow, when Nature effervescent Is thrown out in a warm ])erturbed mood From hurry or fiom danger,)- — still at present Stood, as uncovcr'd, as the gods of old !N'or even, once, had shiver 'd with the cold:— [ 41 ] ]48 At length some servants bursting in the room Brought back his startled faculties to reason— One pale with fright, one sohf)ing at her doom, And some half naked, tho' in that cold season,— • And all exclaiming, " Do pray, master, come,"— Wiiilst, Betty, with his drawers,— said, " Sir, put tliese on,"- And John, tho' frighten'd as the maids, nought saying. And the two Catholics,— crossing themselvt's, aad. praying, ..,. 149 And there was Annette bursting into tears And calling to her spouse,—*' love, do not venture *' Without the doors,— those vile Chari-variers, " Will seize you then,— or in the house will enter j"—i But to all this, Baptisto, — (tho' his fears f Had made upon his feelings an indenture) Kought said, — but putting on his dressing gown And inexpressihles, and cap, went boldly down* il 150 All, was still uproar without side the walls As it was fear within^ —the shrieks,— the cheering With the incessant, undiminish'd calls For poor Baptisto, — who, at length appearing Brought forth a clap, like that when thunder palls, And startles every sense, and deadens hearing,— And made the street, so echo with the strain You would have thought, Chaos, had come again.- 151 aut. I like a row myself,— that is to say, I like to see some frolic for variety,— A good stout pugilistic match,— or fray Betwixt two vulgars, deep in inebriety,— A fair, — or fire,— or any other way (For Time witliout some change, is dull society, )- Wliat signifies a broken head or two, Provided it is neither I;— -nor you ?—» ,c3 42 ] : 152 I\ran is carnivcrous,— and therefore, must Contrive to pamper up his appetite ;— In all things epicurean,— whether lust Of woman, war, or wine be his delight He is the same incentive piece of dust, And acts by instinct's, more than llcason's flight ;- What think you of Longi-.us o'er a bottle, Or every mortal, his own Aristotle ?— » 153 *' Give pliysic to the dogs, "—and Care, to canker In the weak breast, which pines beneath its weight ;• Altho' without Pandora, (we must thank he:r, Who has preserv'd us, Hope, to alienate Our soul from ill, and be our best bower anchor) We should oft fall in a dejected state;— No mattur, — banisli Care ;— Does it avail ye, a Sorrow the less ?— if not,— -make Life, a Saturnalia. 154 But stay, these long digressions metaphysical Are always thrusting them£;elves in, between Me, and my story ; and in authors,— tiiis I call Tiresome to a degl'ee, to intervene Some curs'd advice or other, grave, or quizzical When on the plot,- attention should havs been,- The only man, who does not, this way, tire one, lb that most fascinating fellow— Byron,— > 155 Here let impartial trilmte add one more Digression to the Muse's wandering iliglit' Oh, Byron, thou, whom Poesy's bright lore Has made immortal with her glorious light ; Who, in thy dawn of Fame, first hail'd the shore Where, all that Glory's smile, or Beautj 's site Can hallow into praise, the soul to haunt : Still,— Still, around that all inspiring font [ 43 ] 156 Where Grecian relics stand with glow sublime « ,, " To catch the honour'd bright acclaim of man ;— • — Siirines where the unexpiring voice of Time Speaks of proud deeds since Freedom first began . . To gild with greatness this resplendent clime Eternaliz'd in Glory's glittering van,— And fraught with charms, which Nature's bounteous hand Hath shower'd in loveliness along the land i-^ ' i 157 Oh, Byron, as thy heart upheld in song The triumph, and the memory of each deed "Which won the world, when Greece, in iionour strong Shew'd man, what 'twas, to conquer, and be freed ;— • Behold, thy hand, a« well as heart, among , ' Her remnant offspring, dares them on to bleed In a devoted cause,— whose glorious aim Shall memorize tliemi and tbeey iu endless Fame*.— • 158 Now, to my tale again,— .Baptisto stood .; As you may well suppose,— betwixt the feeling Of Pride, and Fear ;— as any person would Who saw a hundred looks,— before them dealing Their jibes and ridicule in waggish mood .,. And many other different modes, appealizig To the splenetic organs, which arouse The bile, in every cause, which we espouse —« . 159 ; ■ t I" He tried addressing them,— but at pach trial The horn, and whistle rose in treble shakes, AVith the harsh scraping of an old crack'd viol And an odd sound such as tlie cuckoo makes In spring-time ;— *ach attempt had a denial Sufficient to arouse all nervous aches ;— Then follow 'd murmurs, with an oath or two, At which the laughter more excessive greyir. ■I \ [ 4^ ] f 160 At length, a minute's silence having reign'd, — He said, — " Fiay, gentlemen, your will make known, ** Or at the least, the meaning you have dcign'd «« To mark in this incomprehensive tone, — *• The compliments, your voices have maintain'd " No douht, most flattering adulations own, ** Ilow'er, you've not been understood, in these, ** JMore tliau tlie cackling of so many geese." \ 161 Here came a roar, — " It may be fun, no doubt ** For all of you,— 1 can't say the transaction *' Of being brought at dead of night from out *' A comfortable bed, much satisfaction ;— ** But being of small use, to fume, and pout — ** Knowing particularly each protraction ** Would only bring my doors down, »d my dishes— •*' l\ay, have the goodness to explain your wishes V" 162 I told you long before, Baptisto had An evenness of temper, most unshaken Even, when things, vexatious were, and bad ;— Knowing no petulance, could save his bacon "When Fate determin'd to be sore, and sad, Had upon this occasion rightly taken The only likely method, to appease A mob,— who are most diiticult *o please,—* 1C3 It is, as difficult, to check the motion Of any mob, ahiiost, — as it would be To check the Impetuous surges of the Ocean, Which Canute in his power's voracity Thought to controul,^and which, a salted potion Had nearly to some courtiers been, whom he Bade not withdraw, — and str ving thus to rule, Proved himself, like soHie since, — a royal fool. C 45 ] 1G4 Header, if you suppose,— the rich, and great Cannot be foolish, you mistake it much,-— Tor Pride is Folly in its first estate,— And rich, and pow'rful, mostly bred to such Have Pride more influenc'd in their heart innate Than others born in Poverty's gaunt clutch j— It is too oft, the custom to suppose The rich, are wisest, — who wear finest cloaths. 165 The world has Timons still,-^and let us ask If he, or Apemantus was the wiser ? — If all the folly screen'd behind Pride's mask Wc could survey, — stern Reason, a detipiser. Would have enough to do with record's task ;— Not that from spendthrift, we should be the miser, And live for s«lf, — or cynically grub Like stern Diogenes, within his tub.— 166 But really in the world, so much of evil : .■ - ^ Falls to tho lot of some, that 'tis no wonder "What betwixt chance, ard change, and aire, and cavil And all the other ills, we labour under. That we should oft wish mankind to the devil Or any thing to part our steps asunder :— Now, poor Baptisto's was the situation Just, now, to wish, all people to damnation. 167 To vent a good round oath, or two possesses A keen sensation, in the electric spirit;— Sparks of the heart's champagne, which effervesces , And which we all^ the more, or less inherit j— Besides, sometimes, a hearty damn redresses A host of ills, and tho' it has no merit, If chance we should be sermoniz'dj — what then?-^ "VVhy we forget, and swear an oath again,—, . [ 46 ] 1G8 ' ■ ■ And 'midst the miseries of human h'fc A lazy valet, or a drunken groom Just at tiie hour you need them, and Time, rife, With hurry, which if lost, will spoil your doom ;■ (And, oh, forgive me,— dames,) a scolding wife Or two, or three spoilt children in a room, A rain storm when you wiKh the day serene Aie all mobt curb'd promoters of the spleen. IGD And what think ye, of poor Baptisto's case ? Just as young I^ove liad lulTd him in the arms Of one, wliom Cytherea's soft embrace Had scarce surpassed with all her glowing charms. It was indeed, lamentable, to chase Such pastimes of delight, with rude alarms. Oh, think, from heat to cold, if one should force you Like FaibtuH' hissing hot, as any horse-shoe. 170 *• Joy to Baptisto, and his wife ; some cried Who wtre the most otienceicss of the crowd,— **Let 's drink a health to the elected bride,"— The more impetuous call'd with voices loud, *' Crown him with horns then, if it is denied *' Come, come, no wavering ;" otliers there avow'd ; Wliilst some most forward in this resolution Stepp'd forth to put the threat in execution. — 171 They took the ill-starr'd bride groom, and without Much preface to the matter's agitation, His forehead with the antlers round about Encircled soon, like any coronation, Tho* not with so much fuss, and useless rout And dire expence to put folks to taxation,—* This difllrence also, — that it cost Baptiste JrU thirty gallons of old rum, at least.— Bil i: 47 3 172 They plac'd lilm on the quadruped, and hail'd hlnip With wishes bountiful of every sort, And with much ridicule, and jeer assail'd him— ^ But all in Humour's laughter loving sport, And he took all in patience which avail'd him ; . More than inflam'd resistance, or retort,— And at each salutation frankly bow'd f the obsequious wishes of the crowd.— 173 And after some short time's inauguration They led hhn to his door, with cheers, not hisses* *< Prince of good fellows,"— was their exclamation, Whilst some relented, they had marr'd the blisses^ Of one short half hour's space,^by the creation Of this same frolic, not so sweet as kisses, But as there's Time for all things,— we may say The future hours repaid; the past's delay.— 174 t f And having got Baptisto to his bed Once more— in safety to his heart's delight ' And all the crowd dispers'd who had been led To join in sports, which Custom form'd, not spite And which, I trust, will ever still be said ;— Tir'd of my idle rhymes,— I wish, Good night, . To all, who may or have not been amus'd With thoughts, in harmless humour here diifus'd* ; 175 There's nothing good or bad in. Lifei---but thinking Makes it to sense, and feeling so appear ; If you get drunk with wine, the act of drinking, Is not so bad, as to get drunk with beer, For that is fashionable, and not sinking To the low practice of the vulgar cheer,— But I cant say, that Satire, we should suffer More than th' abuse of sweep, or candle-snuffer. [ 4S ] 176 ** Who steals my purse steals trash," — most gentle reader So says the bard, you all know the quotation, I hnte a Critic, that voracious feeder On words, and works, and all, which litigation Can construe into faults,— of which his pleader,— Whose sects are the vile bug-bears of creation :— • He filches us of reputation,— nay, man Is a more noxious thief, than your highway man* 177 And then of poets,— inconsistent creatures Who sigh, and shift, unsettled as the wind, Who talk with every thing — but that which Nature* Idea form'd us for,— a reasoning mind ;— But there's is Fancy, in its falsest features To huddle metaphor and trope combin*d ;— To torture words into the oddest things. And strive too oft to soar with leaden wings* 178 But I have said enough, to scare the patience Of the mpst patient soul, — who may reply,— t ** Thine is no cargo rich as that of Jason's, " No golden fleece to lure the gazer's eye.'*— These may be weighty,«— stem considerations, To those, whose hearts are pufPd with vanity j- But mine is simply in my roundelay To wile, perchance, an idle hour away.— 179 And now to finish with my moral's gage From all that I have written, and which this 19 Let no one wait, until a certain age, That is,— old bachelor^ for Hymen's blisses But think, (if Canada should be the stage,) Charivari, may hail his wedlock kisses,— And not delay his happiness, so late, But learn aiesson from Bs^isto's fate.-**^ . • - THE END, Erra .» The CnARTVAlii is an ancient custom, wMcli, as far as can at this remote period of time be learned, had its eom- mencement in the Provinces of Old Frame ; and from them spread over the whole Kin«;(lom ; from thence it was transplanted into Canada v\ ith the earliest settlers from that country, and has been kept up ever since. Like every other practice which excites to hiluriiy and mirth, it be- came a favourite amusement. It began from a resj)ectful feeling, among the friends of any coujjle wlioeht<.red u second time on the state of matrimony; and vvho took, this method of testifying their regard for the parties, by assembling with horns, |)ots, pans, and other kitchen uten- sils, and serenading the new married pair, with the discor- dant noise produced by the collision of these instruments; thereby intending to represent the jingling atul confusion attendant on the assembling of the furniture of the wuiovv and widower. At first it was a])plied only to persons in the higher ranks of life, commonly by their vassals and dependants, who, assembling in this manner, formed a procession, and respectfully accompanied the parties from the Church to their residence. It deviated froUi this ori- ginal plan in the lapse of time, and from the lower classes being captivated with the amusement attendant on the practice, it was employed, whenever they had an opportu - nity ; so that whenever one of the parties had been married before, it was resorted to, and still is so. With tin- en- creasing desire to render their amusements subservient for usefid purposes, it has been employed to obtain money for charitable appropriations; and to those wh«se feelings did not beat responsive to this virtue, the Charivari has b^en obnoxious. The chief features in it are the ludi- crousness of the masks and dresses which are assumed, whose diversity afford amp^e scope for the indulgence of whim, and the display of humour. Errata.— -Stanza 11, line 3, for hollow read hallow. i