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 ERRATA. 
 
 Page 10, fecond line from bottom,/./- "moftly" read « moiftly. 
 „ 15, line 6, for « Or " mi " And." 
 
 15, line 1 1, /or " Dobfon's " mi " Dodfon's." 
 
 16, line 1, /or « day" read " days." 
 S o, line 5, /r "Sodalis" mi " Sodales." 
 
 „ 51, line 3,/ar"Sui" read "Sin." 
 „ 67, line l,/r " Italia " mJ " Itala." 
 
 » 
 
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 • 
 
 
 
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 Railway Horace. 
 
 
 1 
 
 BY 
 
 G. CHICHESTER OXENDEN. 
 
 Tu ne lade meant, jubeo, Momufcule, Mufam ; 
 Ede tua?n,fic Tu Momificatus eris. 
 
 LONDON: 
 Ufham and Beet, 46 New Bond Street. 
 
 
 
 1862.
 
 LONDON : 
 
 Printed by Strangeways & Waldek, 
 
 28 Caftle St. Leicefter Sq.
 
 "^ ur 
 
 \J 
 
 3<T 
 
 RAILWAY HORACE. 
 
 Horace, Lib. i. Ode 26. 
 
 L'ENVOI. 
 
 DOG of the Mufe, I fend to Spain 
 All forrow, by the next mail-train ; 
 To me it matters little 
 How the young Ruffian Defpot fares, 
 Or who with L. Napoleon fhares 
 His throne and fceptre brittle. 
 
 A kindlier, lighter tafk is mine, 
 
 This Anglo-Latin wreath to twine 
 
 For one time-honoured brow ; 
 
 Alcaic Gas if this infufe, 
 
 Light will my labour be, O Mufe, 
 
 And not dishonoured thou. 
 
 1? 
 
 ,3005
 
 Horace, Lib. i. Ode 2. 
 
 MARCH has Tent down enough of fnow, 
 And fleet, upon this Earth below, 
 With red right-hand, devoid of pity, 
 Bombarding London, lucklefs city. 
 
 The " Gents"* he frightened, left again 
 The gravy might return, and rain 
 Drive all the fhort-horns to the mountains, 
 When fifties, quitting feas and fountains, 
 Stuck in high elm-trees, and the dove, 
 Cooing to cheer his feathered love, 
 Found in the tangled boughs not her, but 
 A brill perhaps, perchance a turbot. 
 
 * Animal vile, infimum, proprie diflum "Gent."
 
 Horace, Lib. i. Ode 2. 
 
 ,* 
 
 The Thames, which erft thro' beds of fpinach 
 To Gravefend guttered, via Greenwich, 
 Now rufhes back, and, with a motion 
 Directly adverfe to the ocean, 
 Would foon have reached the fhrine of Vefta, 
 If there had been, in all the Weft, a 
 Cathedral to that virtuous goddefs, 
 With ftrait-laced ftays, and patent boddice. 
 
 Our youth hear tales of war, and fteel, and 
 Red battles fought in far New Zealand, 
 Themfelves, by wine, and dice, and faro, 
 Dwindled, and fhrunk, and down at zero. 
 
 Whom me for aid, at this the crifis 
 Of England's weal, and England's vices ? 
 Will he the coming danger face, 
 The patron-faint of Chefham Place ? 
 Will gentle Erycina guard us? 
 Cobden and Cotton watch and ward us ? 
 Or Gladstone interpofe to fcreen us 
 From our fierce foe, and fave the Genus ?
 
 Horace, Lib. i. Ode 2. 
 
 Our beacon light, our fureft guide 
 In danger's day, and triumph's pride, 
 Our fword and fhield are loft and gone 
 With thee, unfullied Wellington. 
 
 Yet may thy ftar, O mighty Dead, 
 Its clear, calm light for ages fried, 
 Bright in its Indian morning's glow, 
 Undimmed in England's hour of woe, 
 And fent to fave this chilly land 
 From treafon's fteel, and foreign brand ! 
 
 oO 'Q g ' C^^
 
 
 Horace, Lib. i. Ode 3. 
 
 OO may the gentle Cyprian queen, 
 And Corfiote fteamers intervene, 
 
 And he, the wind's Director, 
 Guide the good fhip which bears to Greece 
 My foul's beft half, with fpeed and peace, 
 
 And be his life's protector. 
 
 That man's capacious cheft around 
 Broad-cloth, and Macintofh were bound, 
 
 Who firft, from Deal or Dover, 
 Gave to the waves his mackerel-boat, 
 Kept for a tide or two afloat, 
 
 And ventured half-feas over.
 
 Horace, Lib. i. Ode 3. 
 
 Tho' north-north-weft by north-half-north 
 The tempeft howled, fublimely forth 
 
 Iftued the dauntlefs band ; 
 The fcaly monfters of the deep 
 Caufed not their iron-eyes to weep, 
 
 Nor e'en the Goodwin Sand. 
 
 In vain hath ftern Geography 
 Severed the firm land from the fea, 
 
 If Man, rebellious ftill, 
 O'er the wild waves may madly glide, 
 Spurn the fierce wind, and ftern the tide, 
 
 And work his recklefs will. 
 
 Franklin, with philofophic kite, 
 Lured from the (ky electric light ; 
 
 But we, in Wifdom's race, 
 A loftier, nobler, flight efTay, 
 Outftrip the very God of Day, 
 
 And conquer Time and Space.
 
 Horace, Lib. i. Ode 3. 
 
 With wings which Jove would fain deny 
 To Man, we range th' unfullied iky, 
 
 And deem that fcience foon 
 Shall pierce the very depths* of air, 
 Plant RofTe's conquering banner there, 
 
 And fcale the aftoniihed Moon. 
 
 .* 
 
 .'. 
 
 * 
 
 * Beyond that pale arch in the fky, which we call the 
 " Milky Way " (and which is itfelf a belt, powdered with 
 liars), Lord Roile's telefcope has revealed a " Milky Way of 
 Nebulae," each feparate nebula of which hai its own millions 
 of ftars. 
 
 -» -> Si «^^>r-
 
 Horace, Lib. i. Ode 5. 
 
 PYRRHA, in fome fequeftered gvot, 
 Where rofes fall around thee, 
 And on thy cheek are kifTes hot, 
 What boyifh love hath bound thee, 
 
 His own dark hvacinthine locks 
 With thy fair trefTes blended ? 
 
 Ah ! quickly come the varying fhocks 
 That tell of paffion ended, 
 
 And he will mourn vows light as air, 
 And Pyrrha's troth departed, 
 
 Ill-ftarred, to love a girl fo fair, 
 And yet, fo faithlefs-hearted.
 
 And I, who watch his ruin, I, 
 
 Thank Heaven, at Neptune's door 
 
 That I have hung My Hat to dry, 
 And tempt the waves no more. 

 
 * Horace, Lib. i. Ode 7. 
 
 TEUCER'S BANQUET. 
 
 /~\ SOME will praife illuftrious Rhodes, and fome fair Mitylene, 
 
 And Ephefus, and ye, twin Seas, with Corinth placed between ye, 
 And Thebes, beloved by Bacchus, and fteep Delphi by Apollo, 
 And Tempe, where the rocky road fcarce man or mule can follow, 
 And fome there are whofe tirefome talk for ever 'tis to fing 
 The glories of Minerva's fhrine, on one incefTant ftring, 
 And Argos with its olive-groves, and opulent Mycenae 
 (O many a fultry fummer-eve right gladly have I feen ye). 
 
 But me nor rich LarifTa's field, nor patient Lacedaemon, 
 
 Appear one-half fuch pleafant fpots, "the which" to pin a theme on, 
 
 As old Albunea's noify dome, with Anio and Tibur,* 
 
 And all the golden-pippin-groves, which moftly circumfcribe her. 
 
 * More convenient than correct.
 
 Horace, Lib. i. Ode 7. 
 
 1 1 
 
 When clouds obfcure the wintry fky, as fouth winds intervene 
 To chafe the dull November fog, and cheer the chilly fcene, 
 Do thou, my Plancus, put an end to forrow and life's labor 
 With goblets of good old port-wine, and twang of pipe and tabor. 
 
 Thus Teucer, when from Salamis, and from " Papa " he fled, 
 A napkin, dipped in pink champagne, bound round his aching head ; 
 And then, with maudlin moiftened eye, his comrades thus addrefT'd, 
 " If we don't go to fea again to-morrow — I'll be blefT'd.* 
 " I'm nothing daunted nor caff, down ; 'tis my opinion rather 
 "That Fate will prove a kindlier fire than my much-honoured father. 
 "And you, companions, one and all, and you, and you, and you, fir, 
 " Juft pluck a little courage up, and truft in Captain Teucer. 
 " Apollo, who's a friend of mine, this certain promife gave us, 
 " That we another fa llow-m if s \ mould find, if we behave us. 
 " Then fill one other bumper bright, and finifh thefe made dimes; 
 " To-morrow we will fail again — to-night we'll drink like fifhes." 
 
 * Naval critics are of opinion that " blejf'd" was not the precife word 
 ufed by Captain Teucer on this occafion. 
 
 f Vice Helen.
 
 Horace, Lib. i. Ode 9. 
 
 JUST fee how white the Grampians gleam 
 Beneath their fnowy burden, 
 How bright the pines with hoar-froft beam, 
 And brooks no found is heard in. 
 
 Chafe we the cold with many a log, 
 Old wine, and old-wives' ftories ; 
 
 Call to the hearth the old houfe-dog, 
 Nought heeding Whigs nor Tories. 
 
 Leave to the gods the reft ; who, when 
 
 They tire of wintry riot, 
 Calm the tall cyprefs in the glen, 
 
 And bid the elm be quiet.
 
 Horace , Lib. i. Ode g. 
 
 ! 3 
 
 For aught beyond forbear to feek ; 
 
 Life yields its own good treafure, 
 The friends we love, health's ruddy cheek, 
 
 And Mufic's brighter!: meafure, 
 
 Whilft yet grey hairs are far away : 
 
 Yes, now the chafe be ours, 
 The heathery mountain-fide each day, 
 
 Each eve, dance, fong, and flowers ; 
 
 And as the diamond-flafh of mirth 
 Still brighter glows, and brighter, 
 
 O where, on this wide, weary earth, 
 Beat merrier hearts, or lighter ? 
 
 oO ' ^ H^
 
 Horace, Lib. i. Ode 15. 
 
 THE Shepherd, when to Gretna Green 
 He bore the impaflloned Spartan queen 
 Love-loft enamoured Helen, 
 Thefe founds of woe and coming fate 
 Heard, at the very entrance-gate, 
 Ere yet they reached their dwelling. 
 
 (Thus Jenner* fung) " Forego the prize- 
 " Ill-omened birds and auguries 
 
 " Attend that nuptial car ; 
 " E'en now, with far prophetic ken, 
 " Fierce ftrife I hear of wig-ged men, 
 
 " And founds of horfe-hair war. 
 
 Di. Jenner, of the Confillory Court.
 
 Horace, Lib. i. Ode 15, 
 
 J 5 
 
 " But ye no figns of coming woe 
 
 " Daunt, in deep fhades, where waters flow, 
 
 " For ye 'tis meeter far 
 <f To bid the pulfe of rapture thrill, 
 " To murmur the foft feguadille, 
 
 f c Or wake the light guitar. 
 
 " When Nicholl vents his words of fire, 
 (f When Phillimore, with mimic ire, 
 
 " Flares in juridic fport, 
 cc Say, will thofe locks of raven-hue 
 cc Screen you from keen-eyed Dobfon's view, 
 
 " Or foothe the indignant Court ? 
 
 <f Thro' iron bars, and triple fteel, 
 
 <( That fell award your Soul might feel ! 
 
 " E'en now, like feared red-deer, 
 " Who in lone Corrie fcents his foe, 
 <f Gaunt maggy wolf, or blood-hound flow, 
 
 " You ftand, transfixed with fear.
 
 1 6 Horace, Lib. i. Ode 15. 
 
 " Not thus, in happier, brighter day, 
 cc You met imperial Helen's gaze ; 
 
 " But now, O early-loft, 
 <f Forenfic arm impels the dart 
 " Which wrings from that Dardanian heart 
 
 " Its life-blood, and the ( Coft !'" 
 
 KSE^^^H-
 
 rzl 
 
 Horace, Lib. i. Ode 20. 
 
 OLD Chief, no font more bright and fair 
 Than thefe few flafks of "Ordinaire," 
 Long in the wood, and placed in bottle, 
 What time, with dry and dufty throttle, 
 Late from " the Houfe " returned, and ill, 
 You deigned to vifit Richmond Hill, 
 And every echo round my dwelling 
 The chorus of your praife was fwelling. 
 
 At home perchance a precious cargo 
 Your cellars hold of Chateau-Margaux, 
 With bins of Burgundy unfailing ; 
 Of me, the loweft joint your tail in, 
 
 c
 
 1 8 Horace, Lib. i. Ode 20. 
 
 A humbler vintage fuits the Table : 
 Come then ; I give (as I am able) 
 Old Port, and for companion dear, a 
 Bright welcome, and my beft Madeira. 
 
 -- s^pggk^^sa^a
 
 _, * 
 
 -'- ' _ 
 
 Horace, Lib. i. Ode 22. 
 
 TO FUSSY. 
 
 FUSSY, the man whofe eyes are open, 
 And pure, needs not to place his hope in, 
 A double-barrel gun, or javelin, 
 To guard his fteps, when he is travelling, 
 Whether o'er Egypt's Deferts Tandy, 
 Or, nearer home, in regions handy, 
 Where the wild Spey comes thundering down 
 From yonder mountain's fnowy crown, 
 To lave Kinguffie,* filthy town. 
 
 * Invernesfhire.
 
 20 
 
 Horace, Lib. i. Ode 22. 
 
 As fome flight proof, laft Tuefday, I, 
 When fauntering out, thro' heather high, 
 Singing, with all my might, in praife 
 Of Mifs Matilda's pleafant ways, 
 All on the loofe, and out of bounds, 
 Met (not a pack of wild blood-hounds, 
 But) a fierce Pug, who fled inftanter, 
 At his beft pace, a fteady canter, 
 As tho' I had been Wolf, or Panther. 
 
 Not fuch a fight as this is feen 
 In Madagafcar's forefts green ; 
 No Pugs are there ; none vex or bite ye 
 'Mid the tall Palms of Otaheite. 
 
 But me, place me where'er you pleafe, 
 On Scottifli hills, devoid of trees, 
 Or on the fultry plains of India, 
 By Tippoo bullied long, and Scindiah, 
 Place me where'er you will, and I 
 Will fing Matilda, damfel fly,
 
 Horace. Lib- i. Ode 22. 
 
 21 
 
 - 
 
 Her of the dark and dangerous eye, 
 Long as I live, aye e'en until I die. 
 
 N.B. There's not the leaft analogy 
 Between my Maud and that Mifs Lalage. 
 
 -g^cs cci,^
 
 Horace, Lib. i. Ode 23. 
 
 CHLOE, you fly me like a kid, 
 Seeking its brown mama, amid 
 Some leafy glen's recefTes, 
 And if a branch but catch the breeze, 
 Or kitten mew, or rabbit fneeze, 
 A prey to frefh diftrefTes. 
 
 But me no tigrefs brought to light, 
 No lion's cub am I, to fright 
 
 A maid, or bid her falter ; 
 The path which I would tread with you 
 Is that which promptly brings to view 
 
 The hymeneal altar.
 
 Horace, Lib. i. Ode 29. 
 
 TO HICKS, OF HICKS' HALL, LONDON, 
 ITALIAN-WAREHOUSEMAN. 
 
 O HICKS, who in abeyance mental 
 Doft covet honours regimental, 
 And wouldeft rifk thy Hickfian life 
 In yonder Cherfonefian ftrife, 
 Tell me, O thou who cureft Hams ill, 
 Is it fome dark Danubian Damfel, 
 At beft but ill-conditioned cattle, 
 Thou wouldeft win in foreign battle, 
 Or, wouldft thou murder with thy Minie 
 Some ferf, when flain not worth a guinea ? 
 Be thefe thy dreams, and this thy notion ? 
 Well then, abhorrent of the ocean,
 
 2 + 
 
 Horace, Lib. i. Ode 29. 
 
 The Thames may trickle back to London, 
 Since thou, infatuated, undone, 
 Spurning thy jars of jam and pickle, 
 And all for which my Hicks might ftickle, 
 Art fain to leave the wealth before ye 
 For fever, and an ounce of glory ! 
 
 — S*GS&$3£&&?M
 
 v» 
 
 
 Horace, Lib. i. Ode 38. 
 
 JOHN, I deteft this apparatus ; 
 But if you wifh indeed to fete us, 
 Seek not the picotee, nor rofe, 
 Which lateft in the garden blows, 
 But, garland meet for poet's brow, 
 A chaplet from yon myrtle-bough, 
 That I may fip my claret, mare 
 The vine's deep made, and revel there.
 
 Horace, Lib. ii. Ode 4. 
 
 TO FAUXJEU.* 
 
 FAUXJEU, why thus afliamed to wed 
 A village damfel ? we have read 
 How, in Homeric Lays, Brifeis 
 Tamed e'en Achilles felf ; and She is 
 Far brighter than that Phrygian Maiden : 
 Atrides, too, with triumphs laden, 
 A captive Girl o'erthrew ; and Ajax 
 TecmefTa's hand did in a rage ax,f 
 What time the proud Theffalian Victor 
 Shattered the Dardan Hoft, and Heclor 
 His own warm life in duel gave, 
 Troy, and the Trojan Maids, to fave. 
 
 * Nic. 
 f An illiterate Man of the Sword.
 
 Horace, Lib. ii. Ode 4. 
 
 27 
 
 Who knows? — perhaps this very Phyllis, 
 Whofe mereft fmile enough to kill is, 
 Springs from fome high-heroic Father, 
 Some King, fome Khan, fome Rajah, rather 
 Than from a difingenuous mother. 
 
 Oh, no, I could not deem her other, 
 Nor think a Damfel fo difcreet, 
 With fuch bright Ankles, and fuch feet, 
 So gentle, fo averfe to hold 
 With greedy hand unhallowed gold, 
 Could be the fcion of loft Races : — 
 And me, whom each frefh charm amazes, 
 View not with jealous Eye, fince I am 
 Paft forty, and as grey as Priam ! 
 
 <rO « g H=r<
 
 Horace, Lib. ii. Ode 8. 
 
 F any bad luck, Mifs Barine, 
 
 Befell you, or your ringlets miny, 
 If you had but one fingle fpeck 
 On your white teeth, or whiter neck, 
 I might believe it, and in truth 
 Think it were right and wife, forfooth. 
 
 But you, as foon as vows and letters 
 Have bound you faft, in willing fetters, 
 Burft. from your bonds, and seem the lighter 
 For broken faith, aye, even brighter. 
 And Venus laughs at this, as I do, 
 The Nymphs too fmile, and young Cupido
 
 Horace, Lib. ii. Ode 8. 
 
 29 
 
 Says, as he fharpens fome new dart, 
 
 " That girl ! by Jove fhe has no heart !" 
 
 The filly boys too, how around 
 
 They throng, to catch a fight, a found, 
 
 The mereft whifper, which may deign 
 
 To tell fome goofe he fighs in vain. 
 
 Alarm o'ertakes each fond Mama, 
 Fear feizes every fat Papa ; 
 Of you, of you alone, afraid is 
 Each one of yon new-married ladies, 
 Left faithlefs John or William fall 
 A victim to Barine's thrall. 
 
 -i^^J^r^f^Sk^^r
 
 Horace, Lib. ii. Ode 16. 
 
 * 
 
 E 
 
 ASE and a pipe," by billows frantic 
 The failor tofTed, in mid Atlantic, 
 Afks of the Gods, when not a ftar 
 Lights up the elemental war, 
 And, in the vifta dim, he fees 
 One hope alone, his "pipe and eafe." 
 
 " Eafe, and a country-houfe at Highgate 
 (The Cockney cries) if ever I get!" 
 
 * This Ode was infcribed to Francis Egerton, Earl of 
 Ellefmere.
 
 And, in imaginary ftate, hoes 
 Ideal peas, and fpeclral 'tatoes.* 
 But neither villa fnug, nor rents, 
 Nor barometric three per cents, 
 Nor frefcoes bright, nor fculpture fair, 
 Soothe thy dull brow, O pallid Care. 
 
 Bleft is the Sage, whofe {lumbers light 
 No railways vex, no lawfuits bite ; 
 Who, in fome fnug recefs, has got 
 His own anceftral coffee-pot, 
 Nor covets more. 
 
 Why feek to play 
 Ten trivial parts in life's poor day, 
 "Why rum from Bosphorus to Po?"f 
 What exile, in his hour of woe, 
 
 * The fame with plants ; potatoes 'tatoes breed, 
 Uncoftly cabbage fprings from cabbage feed. 
 
 (Anti-Jacobin.) 
 t Initar Cecilii Wray.
 
 32 
 
 Horace, Lib. ii. Ode 16. 
 
 To his own heart can fay, at will, 
 
 " Steady, old boy, down charge, be ftill ?" 
 
 Care climbs the lofty Turrets' side, 
 Care, fwifter than the Solway tide, 
 Cleaves to the (learner's iron prow, 
 Clings to the mail-clad warrior's brow, 
 And afks a king, " Whofe dog art thou ? " 
 And the king's dog replies, " Bow-wow." 
 But you, do you, my fpirit free, 
 Spurn the falje world ; and when you Jee 
 'The fierce bafe contefts of the crowd, 
 Curl the cold lip, andfmile aloud 
 At the f mall meannefs of the proud. 
 
 Philip's mad fon, in mid career, 
 Exhausted worlds, and died of — beer! 
 And e'en to me one hour may bring 
 The hope of years, or forrow's fting. 
 
 Old friend, around thy Highland home 
 Red deer, and Roe, fuperbly roam,
 
 Horace* Lib. ii. Ode 16. 
 
 33 
 
 Black- game and groufe adorn thy larder; 
 To me, a lot no worfe nor harder, 
 Fate and the Mufe have given, to pen 
 Thefe my poor dreams, and fneer at Men.* 
 
 ' "The more I fee of men, the more I like dogs." 
 
 '.
 
 Horace, Lib. hi. Ode 26. 
 
 THE ladies played me, O what tricks, 
 When I was in the army ; 
 But now, againft this wall I fix 
 The harp that ufed to charm me. 
 
 And here I hang my grey-goofe quill, 
 And here my gilt-edged paper, 
 
 With envelopes, that gave me hopes 
 Of winning damfels taper. 
 
 O thou, the Queen of Cyprus bright, 
 
 And Memphis, never fnowy, 
 With loftier! whip juft touch the lip 
 
 Of crofs and cruel Chloe.
 
 , » 
 
 Horace, Lib. hi. Ode 2. 
 
 IRTUS, repulfas nefcia fordidae, 
 Intaminatis fulget honoribus, 
 Nee fumit, aut ponit fecures, 
 Arbitrio popularis auras. 
 
 VALOUR, which fears no menace, nor repulfion, 
 Steers its calm courfe, amidft a World's convulfion, 
 Nor yet afliimes the Axe, nor lays it down, 
 To pleafe the fly Electors of a Town.
 
 Horace, Lib. hi. Ode 29. 
 
 SCENE. 
 
 A Club-houfe in ancient Rome — Horace, Varius, Plotius, 
 Mecenas, playing fhort-whiir.. A Waiter overlooks the 
 Game. 
 
 Horace loquitur. 
 
 " TT ORTUNE, rejoicing in her cruel game, 
 {C And pertinacious to play the fame, 
 <( Permutes her variable honours, and 
 " Sometimes deals four, and fometimes none to my hand. 
 
 i( I praife the Waiter — if the Waiter makes 
 " His napkin, and defrauds me of the ftakes, 
 " I wrap me in my virtue, as a garment, 
 " And fnap my fingers at the flippery Varmint."
 
 fa 
 
 Horace, Lib. i. Sat. 5. 
 
 JOURNEY TO BRUNDUSIUM. 
 
 AST Whitfuntide we quitted Rome, myfelf and Heliodorus, 
 Queen's Counfel and Philofopher, all Italy before us, 
 And firft Aricia took us in, and after, Appi-Forum, 
 Where Navigators throng the Quays, and carry all before 'em, 
 Two days we loiter on the road ; but fafter men than we 
 Had done it eafily in One, and tumbled in to Tea. 
 
 Here I, who drank the water vile, felt aguifh, and fled 
 With fhivering limbs, and fupperlefs, to hide myfelf in bed, 
 But not to fleep ; for, all around, what rows, and what a fhindy, 
 What chorufcs of rugged Oaths, along the Jetties windy,
 
 38 Horace, Lib. i. Sat. 5. 
 
 What water-flang ! — for now the Boys reviled the pig-tailed Sailors, 
 And next, the angry Salts in turn infulted their Aflailers, 
 " Pray does your Mother know you're out ?" 
 
 We pay our bill and try 
 To make a {tart; an hour is loft; we fail to clofe an Eye, 
 For frogs abominably croak, Gnats, tiger-like, torment us, 
 And next, with melodies marine, the Navvies circumvent us; 
 They fall afleep ; our Mule frands flill ; till fome one, in a paflion, 
 Starts up to pummel men and mule, and lays a ready lam on, 
 'Till travel-worn, with weary limbs, and many a mifadventure, 
 In time to wafh our hands, and (have, Feronia we enter. 
 
 We breakfaft, and advance ten miles, and after many pranks are 
 Depofited within the walls of fhiny white-warned Anxur. 
 
 And here Mecaenas came to join our Party, and Cocceius, 
 Commifiioners on State-Affairs, and Capito Fonteius, 
 A pleafant, gentlemanly Man, and one we all delight in ; 
 Mamurrae then we reach fatigued, which place we fpend a night in, 
 Muraena furnifhing the beds, and Capito the Kitchen. 
 
 Brightly the Sun arofe next day, frefh joy and pleafure rich in,
 
 Horace y Lib. i. Sat. 5. 
 
 ^* 
 
 39 
 
 For Plotius, and Varius, we meet at SinuefTa, 
 
 And Virgil too, beloved each, and each, I muff confefs, a 
 
 Companion meet to make time pafs moft cheerily away ; 
 
 What jokes, what heaps of fun we had ! O what a joyous Day! 
 
 And here perhaps I might eflay to tell you of a row 
 
 Between Sarmentus the Buffoon, and Meflius, and how 
 
 The fight began ; but my poorMufe would be compelled to fag hard 
 
 To paint one-half the horrid flang of men fo very blackguard, 
 
 So utterly unfit to live; and We, whofe hearts were merry, 
 
 Allowed the combat to proceed, and calmly fipped our Sherry. 
 
 From this we ftretch acrofs the flat, and enter Beneventum; 
 And here our Hoft, with many a bow, and ere we could prevent him, 
 Took down his ancient Fowling-piece, and from the bogs and rufhes 
 Purveyed us half-a-dozen fnipe, and three or four lean thrufhes, 
 In cooking which, to make a dim of which he greatly boafted, 
 He fet his paper-cap on fire, and was himfelf half-roafted. 
 
 Appulia next its mountain-range in turn expofed to view, 
 Parched by the fultry fummer-fun, and un-refremed by dew, 
 And which we ne'er had fcrambled o'er, but mug amid the rocks, 
 We chanced to fpy, perched up on high, Trivicus' Country-Box;
 
 4-0 Horace, Lib. i. Sat. 5. 
 
 Wherein, to pafs the time away (with forrow be it faid) 
 
 I talked all forts of nonfenfe to the pretty Waiting-maid, 
 
 Who frowned, and fhoolc her glofly curls, and chattered fall and fafter, 
 
 But met me with a fmile next day, as on the ftairs I paffed her. 
 
 We next fecure an Omnibus, and travel twenty miles 
 To reach a little Town whofe name my memory reviles, 
 Where water cofts about as much as very good red-wine, 
 But then, the rolls are firft-rate, and I myfelf ate nine. 
 
 Then Gnatia we reach at length, thro' which the river runs ; 
 And here we raife a hurricane of moft irreverent puns, 
 On feeing the old Parifh-clerk beneath a Shrine retire, 
 To liquefy fome frankincenfe, without the aid of fire ; — 
 A feat which I have feen performed in lands and manners various, 
 For inftance, at Neapolis, with blood of Januarius.* 
 
 * Modern fcience has revealed the precife" quomodo" of the Januarian 
 experiment at Naples. Sulphuric aether is reddened with common alkanet 
 root, and then faturated with as much fpermaceti as it will abforb. This 
 preparation remains folid, at, and up to a temperature of io° above 
 freezing ; but melts at any higher temperature, even the mere heat of 
 the hand.
 
 Horace , Lib. i. Sat. 5. 
 
 41 
 
 A Child may credit tales like thefe, not I ; 'tis my Opinion 
 The Gods prefer a quiet life, and finecure Dominion, 
 Nor, if fome wondrous thing arife, by Nature's benefaction, 
 Need we fubpoena Jove and Co. to father the tranfaction. 
 
 Brundufium my Journey ends; Friends, Enemies, valete, 
 And may a readier pen than mine, and pleafant paftures greet ye ! 
 
 ■: - f>. ■ 
 
 ■
 
 MISCELLANEA. 
 
 Lord John Russell. 
 
 (FROM A PHOTOGRAPH BY MR. ROEBUCK, 
 House of Commons, March 1856.) 
 
 " He, like the timid Fifherman, who hears the itorm ap- 
 " proaching, and fees in the dim Horizon a cloud no bigger than 
 " his hand, made ftraight for fhore, and fled howling inland." 
 
 ct "T LLE, velut timidus nigra Pifcator in unda, 
 Qui procul aerias videt infanire procellas, 
 Nubemque exiguam, et torvo tremit omina coelo, 
 Terram ululans adit, et per totum ignobile littuj- 
 Intus agit greffus, et fete abfeondit in umbris."
 
 46 Mifcellanea. 
 
 Note. 
 I beg to ftate that, upon reading Mr. Roebuck's 
 Speech, I enclofed to him, by next poft, the above Latin 
 lines, and duly received from him an admiflion that 
 he himfelf muft have read the Latin lines fomewhere, 
 and thus have appropriated the fimile of the " timid 
 Fifherman " unconfcioufly. Neverthelefs, the fimile is 
 Mr. Roebuck's own property, and not mine. 
 
 —k OCL^
 
 
 ,* 
 
 ■ 
 
 r- 
 
 What might have been the Case. 
 
 AT Paris, et fratres, et qui cecidere fub altis 
 Moenibus Iliacis, illi fi denique rixae 
 Finem Dii dederint alienum, difpare fato 
 Egregias laudes, encomia vafta tuliffent 
 Aonidum. 
 
 Nee Tu tantum nocturnus Adulter, 
 Argivis exofe Paris, fed martia Proles, 
 Cui favit fortafTe Venus ; fed dextera Teucrum, 
 Enfe minax, clypeoque gravi, et fulgentibus Armis, 
 Nil infra Ajacem, nil poll memorandus Achillem.
 
 9 
 
 /""\T Xt'doi, ovh\ fyXa, ovh\ 
 
 "AW' ottov ttot civ utriv " Avhgzg 
 Avrovc rrioZst!> iihbrzg, 
 
 Alc^eus.
 
 LUCKNOW. 
 
 ,, « 
 
 '■ 
 
 NOT in the Stone, nor in the length 
 Of Baftion, lies the City's ftrength, 
 But when, within the leaguered wall, 
 Are Men, Men's Hearts, Men, One and all, 
 Unfcathed by ftorm of fhot and fhell, 
 O, Thefe are tower and citadel. 
 
 ii
 
 Death of a Favourite Hunter. 
 
 <c 
 
 MORS aequa eft," aiunt : Noflris inimica triumphis 
 .ZEqua ilia egregium Mors mihi raptat equum. 
 Nil clivi impatiens, nil vaftis fepibus impar, 
 Nil fueras rapidis tu cohibendus aquis — 
 Cum reliquis minus eft verfari, care Sodalis, 
 Quam Temper pretii fie meminifie tui. 
 
 •JH-o
 
 Half and Half. 
 
 NON mihi conveniunt udi Carchefia Bacchi, 
 Non aqua coenanti juniperina placet. 
 Sui Citri ambrofium Cyathus mihi prasftet odorem, 
 
 Albaque Tint intra Sacchara, Dives ero. 
 
 Qui fapis, et liquids nolis fuccumbere Vitas, 
 
 " Dimidii" fis tu " Dimidii"(]ue fugax. 
 
 ■ ,-=^ 
 
 Note. — Of a wholly different opinion was Madame Pafta, 
 to whom when Corns one faid, at Como, " Do you ftill drink 
 porter in Italy, as you ufed to do in London?" fhe replied, 
 " Non, mio caro, adeffo prendo Io Half-and-Half."
 
 52 
 
 NlCHOLAI PaULOVITCH. 
 
 "\ EATH fped th' avenging Dart, and flew an Emperor ; 
 Then drooped his flefhlefs Arm, and cried "Obtem- 
 
 peror 
 
 - < X>r*i 00 - 
 
 For which piece of bad Latin the King of Terrors is anfwerable, and not I.
 
 ,, » 
 
 '• 
 
 53 
 
 np ALIS 
 A Mill 
 
 in aeterno felix Vertumnus Olyi 
 e habet ornatus, mille decenter 
 
 mpo 
 
 habet. 
 
 
 
 
 Ovid. 
 
 s° 
 
 young Vertumnus, in th' Olympian 
 
 Hall, 
 
 Has 
 
 ftore of neckties, and looks wel! 
 
 in all. 
 
 
 
 ■ — i=$&&2B&m&* — 

 
 Romans, chap. 7, verses 23, 19, 24. 
 
 23. I fee another law in my members, warring againft the law 
 
 of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of 
 fin which is in my members. 
 
 19. For the good that I would I do not, but the evil which I 
 would not that I do. 
 
 24. O wretched man, who fhall deliver me from the body of 
 
 this death ? 
 
 CONTRA legem Animas legem exultare rebellem 
 Intra membra aliam, et rigidis me fubdere cerno 
 Peccati laqueis : 
 
 Quod vellem, infirmus et exfpes, 
 Hoc fruftra aggredior : quod totis viribus odi, 
 Id periturus ago. 
 
 Tanti me e corpore lethi 
 Infelicem Hominem, quae demum dextera folvet ?
 
 OJOY, whene'er, in fairy dream, 
 Thou mirror'd art on life's dark ftream, 
 If when each wavelet, icy cold, 
 Is tinged with azure and with gold, 
 Unbidden all, arifes near, 
 From its deep font, one filent tear, 
 
 It tells, ftern mefTenger of woe, 
 Of ftorm and tempeft here below, 
 Love's labour loft, vows idly fped, 
 Time-treafured friendfhip feared and dead. 
 Or, lonelier ftill, is heard between 
 The low, foft voice of what has been.
 
 Of what has been ! aye, paft away, 
 Both beauteous morn, and bright mid-day ; 
 The dying rays at moments fried, 
 Now gleam awhile, and now are fled, 
 Till the lafl wavering, waning light 
 Gleams wildly forth, and all is night. 
 
 Is there no hope ? uprifing high 
 
 In loft Judasa's lurid fky, 
 
 Faintly at firft, then beaming far 
 
 From Heaven to Earth, that promifed Star, 
 
 High o'er the Vault of guilt and gloom, 
 
 Hath mown a Land bevond the Tomb ! 
 
 "" "i'liiiTv' lj ,: '\iii ~
 
 King Christian. 
 
 , * 
 
 - 
 
 The following is a clofe tranflation of one of the moft fpirited 
 ballads in the whole range of Northern literature. The fea-fight 
 which it tells of took place between the Swedes and the Danes, 
 in the 17th Century, Niels Yuel commanding the Danes. The 
 King of Denmark, who was prefent, created his Admiral "Baron 
 Tordenfkjold" immediately after the engagement. 
 
 KING CHRISTIAN flood by the lofty mart, 
 In murky light ; 
 His cannon-ftrokes fell true and faft, 
 Till the Goth's iron helm at laft, 
 And every hoftile fail and mail, 
 Sunk into night. 
 Fly, fly for fhelter, ye who can ; 
 Who copes with Denmark's Chriftian 
 In the fight ? 
 
 1
 
 58 King Chrijiian. 
 
 Niels Yuel heard the battle-cry, 
 
 fC Now is the Day !" 
 The blood-red flag he hoifted high, 
 Clofed with the thronging Enemy, 
 And louder than the waves his cry, 
 
 " Now is the Day !" 
 " Fly, hide ye from Niels Yuel's hand, 
 " Old Denmark's Yuel who withftand 
 
 "In the Fray?" 
 
 North Sea, a gleam of white fails broke 
 
 Thy gloomy flcy ; 
 Then in the ftrife, the wild death-ftroke 
 Of Foemen hurrying on, there woke, 
 Landward, a cry, a ihout, that fhook 
 
 Heaven's canopy : 
 From Denmark flames Tordenfkjold, 
 To Heaven commend them, e'en the bold, 
 
 And fly !
 
 King Chrijitan. 
 
 59 
 
 ,, » 
 
 Thou, the Dane's path to fame and power — 
 
 Dark, fhadowy wave, 
 Shelter thine own : In that lone hour 
 When war-clouds and the fierce ftorms lower, 
 Proud as art thou, untaught to cower, 
 
 Tempeftuous wave, 
 And quick amid the crafh, the throe, 
 The fight, the triumph, bear me to 
 
 My grave ! 
 
 — e=^ 
 
 ^JjS- 
 
 7*=^-
 
 Ode to the Thames, 
 1857. 
 
 ^LOW on, thou filthieft River, 
 But when you meet the Sea, 
 Mark how the fat Fifh quiver 
 
 When firft they tafte of thee ; 
 And tell them thus : " This inky Tide, 
 
 " Boaft of the City, proud and free, 
 " By twice ten thoufand ftreamlets dyed, 
 
 fC Flows on, to poifon ye." 
 
 But if, in fwimming thither, 
 
 They little feem to care, 
 Jufl mark how quick they wither 
 
 Beneath the foul tide there ;
 
 Ode to the Thames. 
 
 61 
 
 And tell them thus, " Ye fillieft Fifh, 
 cc Safe in fome Tandy nook might be, — 
 
 " To form at leaft a pleafant difh, — 
 " But now, you die of Me ! " 
 
 
 --i^F^%-i
 
 — i #***- 
 
 Canine Greek. 
 
 IT' APA02 ifioi (pipirovvhov skzvbero, a fAccXu c/^crXog, 
 Tovro h'syco GTivhov 'kzvKOv x,uru, arj^a, "kzovrog, 
 dgiVKOfizvog kui gcogo(/jsvog Tuaav hoc vvztu. 
 E.V0CC&S, &ovXo(/jevog vogt&7i>, aw ^cohzKa nhovvoig 
 
 ipetTOf/jCil. 
 
 — g&vtu,£> eyco pzycckoig KXv^&oigiv i^ccy^riv. 
 
 R. P. K.
 
 Taglioni. 
 
 -o-32><§-<>- 
 
 f A RMS and the man I Ting," let Maro cry,— 
 ± *- Ambitious theme ! — " Legs, and the Lady," I. 
 Do thou, chafte Mufe of Choregraphic Art, 
 Yield kindred aid, fome palling grace impart, 
 Wave thy light Wings above my recreant pen, 
 One pirouette give, and Jet me fketch thee then. 
 
 And ye, bright Nymphs, who at the fiddle's call 
 From pafteboard glens before the footlights fall, 
 Loofe-zoned, thin-ankled, bounding like the Roe, 
 From mimic rocks to paper plains below, 
 Star-fpangled Denizens of Scenic Air, 
 Poife your chafte limbs, and reft one inftant there.
 
 E'en as I fing, before my travelled eyes, 
 
 Idalian forms, at fancy's bidding rife ; 
 
 And firft to Thee, on Como's rocky fide, 
 
 Self-fold in youth to Ruffian Gold and Pride, 
 
 Oueen of the Dance, before whofe av/ful throne 
 
 Each ftar grew pale, and left that realm thine own, 
 
 A thoufand memories, Taglioni, rife ; 
 
 I fee thofe flaming feet, thofe Paphian Eyes, 
 
 And e'en mine own the paffing tear-drops lave 
 
 To think fuch faultlefs form mould fhroud a Slave,* 
 
 Slave to barbaric gold ! 
 
 What hope for thee, 
 Degenerate land, loft, widowed Italy, 
 If thine own Daughters, brighter than the ray 
 Which gilds thy Naples with Volcanic Day, 
 Flefh of thy flefh, bone of thy mighty bone, 
 Thus live difhonoured, and thus die, alone ? 
 
 Time was, thou loved one, when on Arno's fhore 
 Thy childhood ftrayed, and Spring's firft Violets bore ; 
 
 * Which idea is captured from the late Lord Byron.
 
 Time was, thou loft One, when a Mother's care 
 
 BlefTed that frefh cheek, fmoothed the dark, luftrous hair, 
 
 Watched each young grace which, like the budding rofe, 
 
 Leaf within leaf, ftill flept in calm repofe : 
 
 Forefaw the triumph, yet forbore to fcan 
 
 Thy woes in ftore, from the Arch-Tyrant, Man, 
 
 And left that haplefs Bark to ftem the tide 
 
 Where Bias funk, and Bigottini died. 
 
 Then came Milano's day, the Victory came ; 
 Uprofe the Scala with one wild acclaim, 
 And all the manhood of that glittering fcene 
 Waved its deep Homage to the new-born Queen. 
 
 (Thefe lines are from a work on "Italian Art.") 
 
 ~>fc£a*£l£^ - l
 
 =s*gg r :. -- - 
 
 BACCHUS and Baccy, glorious two ! 
 Without ye, what would mortals do 
 On this terraqueous Ball ? 
 The Earth would be a ftand of Ink, 
 And, if they robbed us of our drink, 
 The very Sky a Pall. 
 
 Bright flowers are found on Britifh Soil, 
 And England's Sons are ftrong to toil, 
 
 But may they ne'er proceed 
 To wrench from out our garnered flore 
 The plant we love, yet more and more, 
 
 Earth's balmieft gift, a Weed.
 
 — ^^Hr^^^df^^~ 
 
 Excommunication Bull. 
 i860. 
 
 p 
 
 ARTURIUNT Montes ; Utero gemit Italia Tellus; 
 Exiguo majus Mure fit inde Nihil. 
 
 — ?<A£Sr**£^«^r-
 
 Alm^e Matres. 
 
 O BRIDGE of Cam, and ford of Ox, 
 Fenced in with dogmas orthodox, 
 Thy Sons, what are they ? heads of blocks, 
 'Gainft which true Wifdom vainly knocks, 
 And ye, the while, like (tones or flocks, 
 Stand heedless, and the Devil mocks 
 Ye, bridge of Cam, and ford of Ox ! 
 
 Yes, ford of Ox, and bridge of Cam, 
 Of that fmall flock one fingle Lamb, 
 Safe in the arms of Abraham, 
 Is dearer to the great " I am," 
 More fure to fit ad dexteram, 
 Than he who dons, fuperbe tarn, 
 Exonienfem* Purpuram ! 
 
 * Written in the reign of Bifhop Philpotts.
 
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