IX. Awhile he throned her on the snowy hills O'ercanopied with glare of northern dawn Where Hecla's front its liquid fire distils. Anon, he twined her on the oaky lawn Of Albion's coast a seldom-fading bower,Corruptions mildews hence! it scorns the axe of Power. X. Then far in west he built her many a fane When swarthy tribes their sugar-isles among Should lisp her praise, and gathering whirlwinds bear Her deed-inspiring name to Gallia's troubled ear. RYALTO. THE PIG. A COLLOQUIAL POEM. Jacob! I do not love to see thy nose Hear the Pig's Counsel. Now I pray you Is he obstinate? We must not, Jacob, be deceived by words, Just what his gracious masters please to take ; Their enemy is at hand. Again. Thou say'st The Pig is ugly. Jacob, look at him! To judge a Lady in her dishabille ? Fancy it drest, and with salt-petre rouged. Rings round her lover's soul the chains of love. Give him the Swan's white breast, for his horn-hoofs Crowded in eager rivalry to kiss, When Venus from the enamour'd sea arose ; Jacob, thou can'st but make a monster of him, His Pig-perfection. The last charge-he lives A dirty life. Here I could shelter him To thrive by dirty ways. But let me rest Spirit is all, and all things visible Think, Jacob, what that Pig is, and the mire And there! that breeze Pleads with me, and has won thee to the smile That speaks conviction. O'er yon blossom'd field Of beans it came, and thoughts of bacon rise. THEODERIT. The PIOUS PAINTER. The story of the Pious Painter is related in the Pia Hilaria of Gazaus, but the Catholic Poet has omitted the conclusion. This is to be found in the Fabliaux of Le Grand. THE FIRST PART. There once was a Painter in Catholic days, Still on his Madonnas the curious may gaze With applause and with pleasure, but chiefly his praise And delight was in painting the Devil. They were Angels, compared to the Devils he drew, Such burning hot eyes, such a damnable hue! You could even smell brimstone their breath was so blue, He painted the Devil so well. |