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159
The Modern Ixion:
OR, THE LOVES OF JOSEPH DALE AND ELIZA BAINES.
Come listen to a mournful tale,
All ye who feel for true Love's pains!
Just twenty-two was Joseph Dale,
Fifteen he deem'd Eliza Baines:
All ye who feel for true Love's pains!
Just twenty-two was Joseph Dale,
Fifteen he deem'd Eliza Baines:
A heart more tender or more true
Ne'er throbb'd with passion than the swain's;
And though she ne'er had met his view,
That heart adored Eliza Baines.
Ne'er throbb'd with passion than the swain's;
And though she ne'er had met his view,
That heart adored Eliza Baines.
160
One Abraham Thornton (not the youth
Who dash'd out Mary Ashton's brains,
But one, alas! as void of truth)
First told him of Eliza Baines;
Who dash'd out Mary Ashton's brains,
But one, alas! as void of truth)
First told him of Eliza Baines;
And how her roseate cheek grew pale,
And how salt tears, like wintry rains,
In torrents flow'd for Joseph Dale,
All heedless of Eliza Baines.
And how salt tears, like wintry rains,
In torrents flow'd for Joseph Dale,
All heedless of Eliza Baines.
And she was fair, and rich as fair;
With store of gold and wide domains;
And blest the youth ordain'd to share
All this with fair Eliza Baines!
With store of gold and wide domains;
And blest the youth ordain'd to share
All this with fair Eliza Baines!
Oh, then a tender billet-doux
He pens, and softly thus complains,
“If you loves me as I loves you,
I'll wed with sweet Eliza Baines.”
He pens, and softly thus complains,
“If you loves me as I loves you,
I'll wed with sweet Eliza Baines.”
He turns his back on Greenwich Park,
Its glittering domes and gilded vanes,
And sadly roams till almost dark,
In hopes to meet Eliza Baines.
Its glittering domes and gilded vanes,
And sadly roams till almost dark,
In hopes to meet Eliza Baines.
161
To Lew'sham “lazy, lanky, long”
(One epithet the Muse disdains
As all unfit for poet's song),
He hies to seek Eliza Baines;
(One epithet the Muse disdains
As all unfit for poet's song),
He hies to seek Eliza Baines;
And there his devious path he winds,
So pensive peeping through the panes—
But ah! those curst Venetian blinds
Seclude the fair Eliza Baines.
So pensive peeping through the panes—
But ah! those curst Venetian blinds
Seclude the fair Eliza Baines.
In vain beneath that window high
He pours his fond melodious strains,
And coughs and sneezes—not a sigh
Responds from Miss Eliza Baines.
He pours his fond melodious strains,
And coughs and sneezes—not a sigh
Responds from Miss Eliza Baines.
“Oh, Abraham Thornton, aid me now,
If any spark of friendship reigns
Within thy bosom, breathe a vow
To bear me to Eliza Baines!”
If any spark of friendship reigns
Within thy bosom, breathe a vow
To bear me to Eliza Baines!”
“A portrait, Joseph!” Abraham cried,
True love in absence best sustains;
There dwells a limner in Cheapside
Will paint one for Eliza Baines.
True love in absence best sustains;
There dwells a limner in Cheapside
Will paint one for Eliza Baines.
“To-morrow eve, at Astley's too,
The fatal fray on Belgium's plains
They act—a mimic Waterloo!
There may'st thou see Eliza Baines!”
The fatal fray on Belgium's plains
They act—a mimic Waterloo!
There may'st thou see Eliza Baines!”
162
Oh, then a hackney coach was call'd,
A surly jarvey took the reins;
“My fare's two bob!” he hoarsely bawl'd;
Ah! how unlike Eliza Baines!
A surly jarvey took the reins;
“My fare's two bob!” he hoarsely bawl'd;
Ah! how unlike Eliza Baines!
They reach the pit—the great Ducrow
From every hand applauses gains;
Applause from Joseph Dale?—Ah! no,
He thinks but on Eliza Baines.
From every hand applauses gains;
Applause from Joseph Dale?—Ah! no,
He thinks but on Eliza Baines.
One form alone attracts his view,
That form an upper box contains;
Yon orange turban trimmed with blue—
It is—it is Eliza Baines.
That form an upper box contains;
Yon orange turban trimmed with blue—
It is—it is Eliza Baines.
“Bright vision! spare my aching sight!”
He cries; and scarcely yet refrains
To scale that box's topmost height,
Though darkly frowns Eliza Baines.
He cries; and scarcely yet refrains
To scale that box's topmost height,
Though darkly frowns Eliza Baines.
Withheld by Abraham, down he sunk,
A snob his other arm detains,
With “Blow my vig! the fellow's drunk!”
He reck'd not of Eliza Baines!
A snob his other arm detains,
With “Blow my vig! the fellow's drunk!”
He reck'd not of Eliza Baines!
Ah, why must Fortune cruel prove?
Why still delight in mortals' pains?
Why rouse him from his dream of love?
Why cry, “There's no Eliza Baines!”
Why still delight in mortals' pains?
Why rouse him from his dream of love?
Why cry, “There's no Eliza Baines!”
163
That fatal truth revealed, his breast
Dire thoughts of vengeance entertains,
False Thornton owns, a knave confest,
“'Tis all my eye about Miss Baines!”
Dire thoughts of vengeance entertains,
False Thornton owns, a knave confest,
“'Tis all my eye about Miss Baines!”
At once his eyes turn darkly blue,
His nose the spouting claret stains;
Fierce Joseph strikes so swift, so true,
Thus hoax'd about Eliza Baines.
His nose the spouting claret stains;
Fierce Joseph strikes so swift, so true,
Thus hoax'd about Eliza Baines.
And “Sarve him right!” the people say,
Of pity they bestow no grains
On one who could his friend betray,
To love a false Eliza Baines.
Of pity they bestow no grains
On one who could his friend betray,
To love a false Eliza Baines.
Alas, for Joseph Dale! bereft,
And forc'd to reassume the reins,
The whip, the box he lately left
Rejoicing, for Eliza Baines;
And forc'd to reassume the reins,
The whip, the box he lately left
Rejoicing, for Eliza Baines;
Bound to the ever-whirling wheel,
Ixion's fault—Ixion's chains
He shares like him, condemn'd to feel
He clasp'd a cloud in Betty Baines.
Ixion's fault—Ixion's chains
He shares like him, condemn'd to feel
He clasp'd a cloud in Betty Baines.
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