XXXV.

The spirits were in neutral space, before

The gate of heaven; like eastern thresholds is
The place where death's grand cause is argued o'er,
And souls dispatch'd to that world or to this;
And therefore Michael and the other wore
A civil aspect: though they did not kiss,
Yet still between his Darkness and his Brightness
There pass'd a mutual glance of great politeness.
XXXVI.

The archangel how'd, not like a modern beau,
But with a graceful Oriental bend,
Pressing one radiant arm just where below
The heart in good men is supposed to tend.
He turn'd as to an equal, not too low,

But kindly; Sathan met his ancient friend
With more hauteur, as might an old Castilian
Poor noble meet a mushroom rich civilian.

XXXVII.

He merely bent his diabolic brow

An instant; and then, raising it, he stood In act to assert his right or wrong, and show Cause why King George by no means could or should Make out a case to be exempt from woe

Eternal, more than other kings endued

With better sense and hearts, whom history mentions, Who long have « paved hell with their good intentions.» XXXVIII.

Michael began: «What wouldst thou with this man, Now dead, and brought before the Lord? What ill

Hath he wrought since his mortal race began,

XLII.

«Look to the earth, I said, and say again:

When this old, blind, mad, helpless, weak, poor worm
Began in youth's first bloom and flush to reign,
The world and he both wore a different form,
And much of earth and all the watery plain

Of ocean call'd him king: through many a storm
His isles had floated on the abyss of time;
For the rough virtues chose them for their clime.
XLBI.

« He came to his sceptre, young; he leaves it, old :
Look to the state in which he found his realm,

And left it; and his annals, too, behold,

How to a minion first he gave the helm;

How grew upon his heart a thirst for gold,

The beggar's vice, which can but overwhelm The meanest hearts; and, for the rest, but glance Thine eye along America and France!

XLIV.

«'Tis true, he was a tool from first to last
(I have the workmen safe); but as a tool
So let him be consumed! From out the past
Of ages, since mankind have known the rule
Of monarchs-from the bloody rolls amass'd

Of sin and slaughter-from the Caesar's school,
Take the worst pupil, and produce a reign
More drench'd with gore, more cumber'd with the slain:
XLV.

<< He ever warr'd with freedom and the free: Nations as men, home subjects, foreign foes, So that they utter'd the word 'Liberty!'

If it be just: if in this earthly span

He hath been greatly failing to fulfil

His duties as a king and mortal, say,

And he is thine; if not, let him have way.»>

XXXX.

« Michael !» replied the prince of air, « even here, Before the gate of Him thou servest, must

I claim my subject; and will make appear
That as he was my worshipper in dust,
So shall he be in spirit, although dear

To thee and thine, because nor wine nor lust
Were of his weaknesses! yet on the throne
He reign'd o'er millions to serve me alone.
XL.

« Look to our earth, or rather mine; it was, Once, more thy Master's: but I triumph not In this poor planet's conquest, nor, alas!

Need he thou servest envy me my lot: With all the myriads of bright worlds which pass In worship round him, he may have forgot You weak creation of such paltry things;

I think few worth damnation save their kings,

XLI.

« And these but as a kind of quit-rent, to Assert my right as lord; and even had

I such an inclination, 't were (as you

Well know) superfluous; they are grown so bad, That hell has nothing better left to do

Than leave them to themselves: so much more mad And evil be their own internal curse,

Heaven cannot make them better, nor I worse.

History was ever stain'd as his will be

With national a d individual woes?

I grant his household abstinence; I grant

His neutral virtues, which most monarchs want;

XLVI.

« I know he was a constant consort; own

He was a decent sire, and middling lord.
All this is much, and most upon a throne;
As temperance, if at Apicins' board,

Is more than at an anchorite's supper shown.
I grant him all the kindest can accord;
And this was well for him, but not for those
Millions who found him what oppression chose.

XLVII.

The new world shook him off; the old yet groans
Beneath what he and his prepared, if not
Completed: he leaves heirs on many thrones
To all his vices, without what begot
Compassion for him-his tame virtues; drenes
Who sleep, or despots who have now forgot
A lesson which shall be re-taught them, wake
Upon the throne of earth; but let them quake!
XLVIII.

« Five millions of the primitive, who hold
The faith which makes ye great on earth, implored

A part of that vast all they held of old,—
Freedom to worship-uot alone your Lord,
Michael, but you, and you, Saint Peter! Cold
Must be your souls, if you have not ablorr d
The foe to Catholic participation

In all the license of a Christian nation.

LXXII.

Take care he don't revenge himself, though dead, As Nessus did of old beyond all cure;

I don't know if the fact you've heard or read,
But he will make you burst, you may be sure.>>
« But help him on my back,» Morgante said,
«And you shall see what weight I can endure:
In place, my gentle Roland, of this palfrey,
With all the bells, I'd carry yonder belfry.>>
LXXIII.

The abbot said, «The steeple may do well,
But, for the bells, you 've broken them, I wot.»>
Morgante answered, «Let them pay in hell
The penalty, who lie dead in yon grot :>>
And hoisting up the horse from where he fell,
He said, « Now look if I the gout have got,
Orlando, in the legs--or if I have force;»-
And then he made two gambols with the horse.
LXXIV.

Morgante was like any mountain framed;
So if he did this, 't is no prodigy;
But secretly himself Orlando blamed,

Because he was one of his family;

And, fearing that he might be hurt or maim'd,
Once more he bade him lay his burthen by:

<< Put down, nor bear him further the desert in.»> Morgante said, I'll carry him for certain.>>

LXXV.

He did; and stow'd him in some nook away,
And to the abbey then return'd with speed.
Orlando said, « Why longer do we stay?
Morgante, here is nought to do indeed.»
The abbot by the hand he took one day,
And said with great respect, he had agreed
To leave his reverence; but for this decision
He wish'd to have his pardon and permission.
LXXVI.

The honours they continued to receive

Perhaps exceeded what his merits claim'd: He said, « I mean, and quickly, to retrieve

The lost days of time past, which. may be blamed; Some days ago I should have ask'd your leave,

Kind father, but I really was ashamed, And know not how to show my sentiment, So much I see you with our stay content.

LXXVII.

<< But in my heart I bear through every clime, The abbot, abbey, and this solitude

So much I love you in so short a time;

For me, from heaven reward you with all good, The God so true, the eternal Lord sublime!

Whose kingdom at the last hath open stood: Meanwhile we stand expectant of your blessing, And recommend us to your prayers with pressing.»

LXXVIII.

Now when the abbot Count Orlando heard,
His heart grew soft with inner tenderness,
Such fervour in his bosom bred each word;
And, Cavalier,» he said, «if I have less
Courteous and kind to your great worth appear'd,
Than fits me for such gentle blood to express,

I know I've done too little in this case;
But blame our ignorance, and this poor place.

<< This may involve a seeming contradiction,
But you, I know, are sage, and feel, and taste,
And understand my speech with full conviction.
For your just pious deeds may you be graced
With the Lord's great reward and benediction,
By whom you were directed to this waste:
To his high mercy is our freedom due,
For which we render thanks to him and you.
LXXXI.

« You saved at once our life and soul: such fear
The giants caused us, that the way was lost
By which we could pursue a fit career

In search of Jesus and the saintly host; And your departure breeds such sorrow here, That comfortless we all are to our cost;

But mouths and years you could not stay in sloth, Nor are you form'd to wear our sober cloth;

WALTZ.

MESE of the many-twinkling feet!3 whose charms Are now extended up from legs to arms; TERPSICHORE!-too long misdeem'd a maidReproachful term-bestow'd but to upbraid-Henceforth in all the bronze of brightness shine, The least a vestal of the virgin Nine.

Far be from thee and thine the name of prude;
Mock'd, yet triumphant; sneer'd at, unsubdued;
Thy legs must move to conquer as they fly,
If but thy coats are reasonably high;
Thy breast-if bare enough-requires no shield;
Dance forth-sans armour thou shalt take the field,
And own-impregnable to most assaults,
Thy not too lawfully begotten « Waltz.>>

Hail, nimble nymph! to whom the young hussar, The whisker'd votary of waltz and warHis night devotes, despite of spur and boots, A sight unmatch'd since Orpheus and his brutes: Hail spirit-stirring Waltz!-beneath whose banners A modern hero fought for modish manners; On Hounslow's heath to rival Wellesley's fame, |Cock'd-fired—and miss'd his man-but gain'd his aim. Hail moving muse! to whom the fair one's breast Gives all it can, and bids us take the rest. Oh! for the flow of Busby, or of Fitz, The latter's loyalty, the former's wits, To « energize the object I pursue,>>

And give both Belial and his dance their due!

Imperial Waltz! imported from the Rhine (Famed for the growth of pedigrees and wine), Long be thine import from all duty free, And hock itself be less esteem'd than thee; In some few qualities alike-for hock Improves our cellar-thou our living stock. The head to hock belongs-thy subtler art Intoxicates alone the heedless heart:

Through the full veins thy gentler poison swims, And wakes to wantonness the willing limbs.

Oh, Germany! how much to thee we owe,
As heaven-born Pitt can testify below;
Ere cursed confederation made thee France's,
And only left us thy d--d debts and dances;
Of subsidies and Hanover bereft,

We bless thee still-for George the third is left!
Of kings the best-and last, not least in worth,
For graciously begetting George the fourth.
To Germany, and highnesses serene,
Who owe us millions-don't we owe the queen?
To Germany, what owe we not besides?
So oft bestowing Brunswickers and brides;
Who paid for vulgar, with her royal blood,
Drawn from the stem of each Teutonic stud:
Who sent us--so be pardon'd all her faults-
A dozen dukes-some kings-a queen-and Waltz.

But peace to her-her emperor and diet, Though now transferr'd to Bonaparte's « fiat;>> Back to my theme-O! Muse of motion say, How first to Albion found thy waltz her way?

Borne on the breath of hyperborean gales,
From Hamburg's port (while Hamburg yet had mails),
Ere yet unlucky fame-compell'd to creep

To snowy Gottenburg-was chill'd to sleep;
Or, starting from her slumbers, deign'd arise,
Heligoland! to stock thy mart with lies;
While unburnt Moscow 5 yet had news to send,
Nor owed her fiery exit to a friend,

She came-Waltz came-and with her certain sets
Of true dispatches, and as true gazettes;
Then flamed of Austerlitz the blest dispatch,
Which Moniteur nor Morning Post can match;
And-almost crush'd beneath the glorious news-
Ten plays, and forty tales of Kotzebue's;
One envoy's letters, six composers' airs,
And loads from Frankfort and from Leipsic fairs;
Meiner's four volumes upon womankind,
Like Lapland witches to ensure a wind;
Brunck's heaviest tome for ballast, and to back it,
Of Heyné, such as should not sink the packet.
Fraught with this cargo-and her fairest freight,
Delightful Waltz, on tiptoe for a mate,
The welcome vessel reach'd the genial strand,
And round her flock'd the daughters of the land.
Not decent David, when, before the ark,
His grand pas-seul excited some remark;
Not love-lorn Quixote, when his Sancho thought
The knight's fandango friskier than it ought;
Not soft Herodias, when with winning tread
Her nimble feet danced off another's head;
Not Cleopatra on her galley's deck,
Display'd so much of leg, or more of neck,
Than thou, ambrozial Waltz, when first the moon
Beheld thee twirling to a Saxon tune!

To you-ye husbands of ten years! whose brows
Ache with the annual tributes of a spouse;
To you, of nine years less-who only bear
The budding sprouts of those that you shall wear,
With added ornaments around them roll'd,
Of native brass, or law-awarded gold;
To you, ye matrons, ever on the watch
To mar a son's, or make a daughter's match;
To you, ye children of whom chance accords--
Always the ladies, and sometimes their lords;
To you-ye single gentlemen! who seek
Torments for life, or pleasures for a week;
As Love or Hymen your endeavours guide,
To gain your own, or snatch another's bride;
To one and all the lovely stranger came,
And every ball-room echoes with her name.

Endearing Waltz-to thy more melting tune Bow Irish jig, and ancient rigadoon; Scotch reels avaunt! and country dance, forego Your future claims to each fantastic toe; Waltz-Waltz-alone both legs and arms demands, Liberal of feet, and lavish of her hands; Hands which may freely range in public sight Where ne'er before-but-pray «put out the light.>> Methinks the glare of yonder chandelier Shines much too far-or I am much too near; And true, though strange-Waltz whispers this remark, « My slippery steps are safest in the dark!» But here the muse with due decorum halts, And lends her longest petticoat to Waltz.

Observant travellers! of every time; Ye quartos! publish'd upon every clime; O say, shall dull Romaika's heavy round, Fandango's wriggle, or Bolero's bound; Can Egypt's Almas 6-tantalizing groupColumbia's caperers to the warlike whoopCan aught from cold Kamschatka to Cape Horn With Waltz compare, or after Waltz be borne? Ah, no! from Morier's pages down to Galt's, Each tourist pens a paragraph for «Waltz.»

Shades of those belles, whose reign began of yore,
With George the Third's-and ended long before-
Though in your daughters' daughters yet you thrive,
Eurst from your lead, and be yourselves alive!
Back to the ball-room speed your spectred host;
Fool's Paradise is dull to that you lost.
No treacherous powder bids conjecture quake;
No stiff starch'd stays make meddling fingers ache;
(Transferr'd to those ambiguous things that ape
Goats in their visage,7 women in their shape);
No damsel faints when rather closely press'd,
But more caressing seems when most caress'd;
Superfluous hartshorn, and reviving salts,
Both banish'd by the sovereign cordial «Waltz.»

Seductive Waltz!-though on thy native shore
Even Werter's self proclaim'd thee half a whore;
Werter-to decent vice though much inclined;
Yet warm, not wanton; dazzled, but not blind-
Though gentle Genlis, in her strife with Stael,
Would even proscribe thee from a Paris ball;
The fashion hails-from countesses to queens,
And maids and valets waltz behind the scenes;
Wide and more wide thy witching circle spreads,
And turns-if nothing else-at least our heads;
With thee even clumsy cits attempt to bounce,
And cockneys practise what they can't pronounce.
Gods! how the glorious theme my strain exalts,
And rhyme finds partner rhyme in praise of «

<<Waltz.»>

Blest was the time Waltz chose for her début;
The court, the R--t, like herself were new;8
New face for friends, for foes some new rewards,
New ornaments for black and royal guards;
New laws to hang the rogues that roar'd for bread;
New coins (most new 9) to follow those that fled;
New victories-nor can we prize them less,
Though Jeuky wonders at his own success;
New wars, because the old succeed so well,
That most survivors envy those who fell;
New mistresses-no-old-and yet 't is true,
Though they be old, the thing is something new;
Each new, quite new-(except some ancient tricks1o),
New white-sticks, gold-sticks, broom-sticks, all new
sticks!

With vests or ribands-deck'd alike in hue,
New troopers strut, new turncoats blush in blue;
So saith the muse-my--", what say you?
Such was the time when Waltz might best maintain
Her new preferments in this novel reign;
Such was the time, nor ever yet was such,
Hoops are no more, and petticoats not much;
Morals and minuets, virtue and her stays,
And tell-tale powder-all have had their days.

The ball begins-the honours of the house
First duly done by daughter or by spouse,
Some potentate-or royal or serene-

With K-t's gay grace, or sapient G-st-r's mien,
Leads forth the ready dame, whose rising flusla
Might once have been mistaken for a blush.
From where the garb just leaves the bosom free,
That spot where hearts were once supposed to be;
Round all the confines of the yielded waist,
The strangest hand may wander undisplaced;
The lady's in return may grasp as much
As princely paunches offer to her touch.
Pleased round the chalky floor how well they trip,
One hand reposing on the royal hip;
The other to the shoulder no less royal
Ascending with affection truly loyal;

Thus front to frout the partners move or stand,
The foot may rest, but none withdraw the hand;
And all in turn may follow in their rank,
The Earl of Asterisk--and Lady-Blank;
Sir-such a one-with those of fashion's host,
For whose blest surnames-vide & Morning Post,"
(Or if for that impartial print too late,
Search Doctors' Commons six months from my date) —
Thus all and each, in movement swift or slow,
The genial contact gently undergo;

Till some might marvel, with the modest Turk,
If nothing follows all this palming work?3
True, honest Mirza-you may trust my rhyme-
Something does follow at a fitter time;
The breast thus publicly resign'd to man,
In private may resist him--if it can.

O ye! who loved our grandmothers of yore,
F-tz-t-k, Sh-r-d-n, and many more!
And thou, my prince! whose sovereign taste and will
It is to love the lovely beldames still;

Thou, ghost of Q-▬▬▬! whose judging sprite
Satan may spare to peep a single night,
Pronounce-if ever in
your days of bliss-
Asmodeus struck so bright a stroke as this;
To teach the young ideas how to rise,
Flush in the cheek and languish in the eyes;
Rush to the heart, and lighten through the frame,
With half-told wish, and ill-dissembled flame;
For prurient nature still will storm the breast-
Who, tempted thus, can answer for the rest?

But ye-who never felt a single thought
For what our morals are to be or ought;
Who wisely wish the charms you view to reap,
Say-would you make those beauties quite so cheap!
Hot from the hands promiscuously applied.
Round the slight waist; or down the glowing side;
Where were the rapture then to clasp the form,
From this lewd grasp, and lawless contact warm?
At once love's most endearing thought resign,
To press the hand so press'd by noue but thine;
To gaze upon that eye which never met
Another's ardent look without regret;
Approach the lip which all, without restraint,
Come near enough-if not to touch-to taint;
If such thou lovest-love her then no more,
Or give like her-caresses to a score;
Her mind with these is gone, and with it go
The little left behind it to bestow.