The Poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed With a Memoir by the Rev. Derwent Coleridge. Fourth Edition. In Two Volumes |
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STANZAS
WRITTEN IN LADY MYRTLE'S “BOCCACCIO.” |
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 | The Poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed |  |
364
STANZAS WRITTEN IN LADY MYRTLE'S “BOCCACCIO.”
In these gay pages there is food
For every mind and every mood,
Fair Lady, if you dare to spell them:
Now merriment—now grief prevails;
But yet the best of all the tales
Is of the young group met to tell them.
For every mind and every mood,
Fair Lady, if you dare to spell them:
Now merriment—now grief prevails;
But yet the best of all the tales
Is of the young group met to tell them.
Oh was it not a pleasant thought
To set the pestilence at nought,
Chatting among sweet streams and flowers
Of jealous husbands, fickle wives,
Of all the tricks which love contrives
To see through veils, and talk through towers?
To set the pestilence at nought,
Chatting among sweet streams and flowers
Of jealous husbands, fickle wives,
Of all the tricks which love contrives
To see through veils, and talk through towers?
Lady, they say the fearful guest
Onward—still onward to the west,
Poised on his sulphurous wings, advances,
Who on the frozen river's banks
Has thinned the Russian despot's ranks,
And marred the might of Warsaw's lances.
Onward—still onward to the west,
Poised on his sulphurous wings, advances,
Who on the frozen river's banks
Has thinned the Russian despot's ranks,
And marred the might of Warsaw's lances.
365
Another year—a brief brief year—
And lo, the fell destroyer here!
He comes with all his gloomy terrors;
Then Guilt will read the properest books,
And Folly wear the soberest looks,
And Virtue shudder at her errors.
And lo, the fell destroyer here!
He comes with all his gloomy terrors;
Then Guilt will read the properest books,
And Folly wear the soberest looks,
And Virtue shudder at her errors.
And there'll be sermons in the street;
And every friend and foe we meet
Will wear the dismal garb of sorrow;
And quacks will send their lies about,
And weary Halford will find out
He must have four new bays to-morrow.
And every friend and foe we meet
Will wear the dismal garb of sorrow;
And quacks will send their lies about,
And weary Halford will find out
He must have four new bays to-morrow.
But you shall fly from these dark signs,
As did those happy Florentines,
Ere from your cheek one rose is faded;
And hide your youth and loveliness
In some bright garden's green recess,
By walls fenced round, by huge trees shaded.
As did those happy Florentines,
Ere from your cheek one rose is faded;
And hide your youth and loveliness
In some bright garden's green recess,
By walls fenced round, by huge trees shaded.
There brooks shall dance in light along,
And birds shall trill their constant song
Of pleasure, from their leafy dwelling;
You shall have music, novels, toys;
But still the chiefest of your joys
Must be, fair Lady, story-telling.
And birds shall trill their constant song
Of pleasure, from their leafy dwelling;
You shall have music, novels, toys;
But still the chiefest of your joys
Must be, fair Lady, story-telling.
366
Be cautious how you choose your men:
Don't look for people of the pen,
Scholars who read, or write the papers;
Don't think of wits, who talk to dine,
Who drink their patron's newest wine,
And cure their patron's newest vapours.
Don't look for people of the pen,
Scholars who read, or write the papers;
Don't think of wits, who talk to dine,
Who drink their patron's newest wine,
And cure their patron's newest vapours.
Avoid all youths who toil for praise
By quoting Liston's last new phrase,
Or sigh to leave high fame behind them
For swallowing swords, or dancing jigs,
Or imitating ducks and pigs;
Take men of sense,—if you can find them.
By quoting Liston's last new phrase,
Or sigh to leave high fame behind them
For swallowing swords, or dancing jigs,
Or imitating ducks and pigs;
Take men of sense,—if you can find them.
Live, laugh, tell stories; ere they're told,
New themes succeed upon the old,
New follies come, new faults, new fashions;
An hour—a minute will supply
To thought a folio history
Of blighted hopes, and thwarted passions.
New themes succeed upon the old,
New follies come, new faults, new fashions;
An hour—a minute will supply
To thought a folio history
Of blighted hopes, and thwarted passions.
King Death, when he has snatched away
Drunkards from brandy, Dukes from play,
And Common-councilmen from turtle,
Shall break his dart in Grosvenor Square,
And mutter in his fierce despair
“Why, what's become of Lady Myrtle?”
Drunkards from brandy, Dukes from play,
And Common-councilmen from turtle,
Shall break his dart in Grosvenor Square,
And mutter in his fierce despair
“Why, what's become of Lady Myrtle?”
| The Poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed | |