The Poetical Works of Horace Smith Now First Collected. In Two Volumes |
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| I. | POETICAL EPISTLE,
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 | The Poetical Works of Horace Smith |  |
179
POETICAL EPISTLE,
From Amos Stokes, Esq., of Nashville, United States, to Washington Nokes, Esq., of Liverpool, commencing the Account of a very remarkable Aerial Voyage made in the grand Kentucky Balloon.
In ordinary times and moods, dear Nokes,
You might for centuries have had to whistle,
'Ere I, the plain prosaic Amos Stokes,
Should send you a poetical epistle:
But the muse sometimes visits solemn folks,
As a flower blossoms even on the thistle,
And mine's a theme so startling and sublime,
That it affords good reason for my rhyme.—
You might for centuries have had to whistle,
'Ere I, the plain prosaic Amos Stokes,
Should send you a poetical epistle:
But the muse sometimes visits solemn folks,
As a flower blossoms even on the thistle,
And mine's a theme so startling and sublime,
That it affords good reason for my rhyme.—
180
I have been far above the clouds,—and seen
Sights unreveal'd before to mortal eye!
You know that merry madcap, Harry Green,—
Well—he persuaded Ebenezer Guy,
A Latin usher—solemn, long, and lean,
Whose talk was pompous, polyglot, and dry,
And your unlucky friend—(a witless wight!)
In Hudson's grand balloon to take a flight.
Sights unreveal'd before to mortal eye!
You know that merry madcap, Harry Green,—
Well—he persuaded Ebenezer Guy,
A Latin usher—solemn, long, and lean,
Whose talk was pompous, polyglot, and dry,
And your unlucky friend—(a witless wight!)
In Hudson's grand balloon to take a flight.
Hudson—long practised in balloons, was meant
To steer our bark, and manage every part;
In fact, all four were seated—all intent
On making quickly an auspicious start,
When, leaning to untie the rope, too far,
Our clumsy pilot tumbled from the car!
To steer our bark, and manage every part;
In fact, all four were seated—all intent
On making quickly an auspicious start,
When, leaning to untie the rope, too far,
Our clumsy pilot tumbled from the car!
181
As Hudson was a heavy man, of course
The loss of his preponderating weight,
Made the machine start upwards with a force
As if a whizzing rocket went elate.
So instantaneous was our earth-divorce,
We had no time the crowd to calculate,
Or note their shouts, fast dwindling to a hum,
When the whole scene grew indistinct and dumb.
The loss of his preponderating weight,
Made the machine start upwards with a force
As if a whizzing rocket went elate.
So instantaneous was our earth-divorce,
We had no time the crowd to calculate,
Or note their shouts, fast dwindling to a hum,
When the whole scene grew indistinct and dumb.
E'en I, dear Nokes, an unreflecting wight,
Felt an awe-stricken, and a solemn mood,
In being sever'd from the world outright,
And floating upwards thro' th' infinitude
Of space; as if, while blessed with life and light,
A sort of dissolution had accrued,
And I had bid a last adieu to earth,
To find, in some new sphere, a second birth.
Felt an awe-stricken, and a solemn mood,
In being sever'd from the world outright,
And floating upwards thro' th' infinitude
Of space; as if, while blessed with life and light,
A sort of dissolution had accrued,
And I had bid a last adieu to earth,
To find, in some new sphere, a second birth.
182
Is that dim mass, methought, obscured with clouds,
Looming below, a doubtful vapoury form,—
Is that our planet, with its countless clouds,—
Its nations, empires, cities? Is the storm
Of vice and passion that man's heart enshrouds,
The virtues that the female bosom warm,
Thrilling and throbbing in that little sphere?
Oh! what an ant-hill does the whole appear!
Looming below, a doubtful vapoury form,—
Is that our planet, with its countless clouds,—
Its nations, empires, cities? Is the storm
Of vice and passion that man's heart enshrouds,
The virtues that the female bosom warm,
Thrilling and throbbing in that little sphere?
Oh! what an ant-hill does the whole appear!
And other planets, throng'd like ours, perchance,
With beings that seem only born to die;
Why do they weave their rotatory dance,
Like gnats disporting in a summer sky?
Why do they fill the limitless expanse
With sepulchres that whirl eternally
Around the central fount of life and light,
What was their dawning—when will be their night?
With beings that seem only born to die;
Why do they weave their rotatory dance,
Like gnats disporting in a summer sky?
Why do they fill the limitless expanse
With sepulchres that whirl eternally
Around the central fount of life and light,
What was their dawning—when will be their night?
183
While thoughts like these were flashing through my mind
With lightning speed, adapted to our motion,
My comrade, Harry Green, remain'd resign'd
To a convulsive laughter, at the notion
Of the fat sprawler whom we left behind,
Till, having wiped the tears that made a lotion
For either cheek, he cried “I can't forget
Hudson's own wonder at his somerset.”
With lightning speed, adapted to our motion,
My comrade, Harry Green, remain'd resign'd
To a convulsive laughter, at the notion
Of the fat sprawler whom we left behind,
Till, having wiped the tears that made a lotion
For either cheek, he cried “I can't forget
Hudson's own wonder at his somerset.”
“Had he been with us, our retarded flight,
If we could fly at all—a doubtful case,—
Had been no higher than an urchin's kite,
Or eagle, towering in its pride of place;
And never had we known the keen delight
Of soaring thus triumphantly through space,
And looking, every moment as we climb,
Down on the earth with feelings more sublime.”
If we could fly at all—a doubtful case,—
Had been no higher than an urchin's kite,
Or eagle, towering in its pride of place;
And never had we known the keen delight
Of soaring thus triumphantly through space,
And looking, every moment as we climb,
Down on the earth with feelings more sublime.”
184
“Do you remember, Guy, the well-known joke
Of singing Dignum at a public dinner,
Who, slicing from the pudding, at one stroke,
A mass that left it some three quarters thinner,
Said, as he moved the dish—‘some pudding, Skinner?
‘Which,’ replied Skinner, as his glances stray
From plate to dish, ‘which is the pudding, pray?’”
Of singing Dignum at a public dinner,
Who, slicing from the pudding, at one stroke,
A mass that left it some three quarters thinner,
Said, as he moved the dish—‘some pudding, Skinner?
‘Which,’ replied Skinner, as his glances stray
From plate to dish, ‘which is the pudding, pray?’”
“So I, while gazing on the sphere below,
And that above, which, like a silken moon,
Sustains our car, am half in doubt to know
Which is the Earth, and which is the balloon,
How beautiful is this celestial show!
Methinks it were an enviable boon
Ne'er to revisit Earth, but in the sky,
Amid these glorious scenes, to live and die.”
And that above, which, like a silken moon,
Sustains our car, am half in doubt to know
Which is the Earth, and which is the balloon,
How beautiful is this celestial show!
Methinks it were an enviable boon
Ne'er to revisit Earth, but in the sky,
Amid these glorious scenes, to live and die.”
185
“There's little doubt about the last,” replied
The hollow voice of Guy, who hitherto,
While as with fear transfix'd, he sternly eyed
The mass above him, evidently drew
Grim auguries he did not seek to hide;—
“Prepare for death—you've nothing else to do—
Giving false hopes I'll not be a colleague at,
For dubiam qui dat salutem, negat.
The hollow voice of Guy, who hitherto,
While as with fear transfix'd, he sternly eyed
The mass above him, evidently drew
Grim auguries he did not seek to hide;—
“Prepare for death—you've nothing else to do—
Giving false hopes I'll not be a colleague at,
For dubiam qui dat salutem, negat.
“An endless holiday my school will have,—
I never more shall wield the birch or cane;
No human agency our lives can save,
In this accursed car must we remain,
Until it proves—as soon it will—our grave.
Our fate is manifest,—the case is plain,—
I wouldn't hurt your feelings,—never mind,
Mors omnibus communis,—I'm resign'd.”
I never more shall wield the birch or cane;
No human agency our lives can save,
In this accursed car must we remain,
Until it proves—as soon it will—our grave.
Our fate is manifest,—the case is plain,—
I wouldn't hurt your feelings,—never mind,
Mors omnibus communis,—I'm resign'd.”
186
As his affrighted looks the boast belied,
We called upon him for an explanation;
When, in the same sepulchral voice, he sigh'd—
“As Hudson tumbled, in his agitation
He caught the string that to the valve is tied,
And snapp'd it off—so that no operation
Can now let off the gas, and we must rise
Till cold or famine kill us in the skies!”—
We called upon him for an explanation;
When, in the same sepulchral voice, he sigh'd—
“As Hudson tumbled, in his agitation
He caught the string that to the valve is tied,
And snapp'd it off—so that no operation
Can now let off the gas, and we must rise
Till cold or famine kill us in the skies!”—
“Nonsense,” cried Harry Green,—who lov'd his joke,
Bad as it might be, better than his friend,—
“While we thus soar (excuse the équivoque)
Into the grave we cannot well descend.”—
“So much the worse,” with melancholy croak,
Responded Guy, “we shall not in our end
Have even decent burial, but be cast to
And fro in air—nantes in gurgite vasto,—
Bad as it might be, better than his friend,—
“While we thus soar (excuse the équivoque)
Into the grave we cannot well descend.”—
“So much the worse,” with melancholy croak,
Responded Guy, “we shall not in our end
Have even decent burial, but be cast to
And fro in air—nantes in gurgite vasto,—
187
Until the flesh is wasted from our bones,
(Dying of famine, that will soon be done!)
When for unnumber'd years our skeletons,
Floating in space, may reach at last some zone,
Or sphere remote, whose geologic sons,
In a glass case may have us clapp'd, and shown
As fossils of the air—quis talia fando—
But I'll not weep—Fortunæ omnia mando.”
(Dying of famine, that will soon be done!)
When for unnumber'd years our skeletons,
Floating in space, may reach at last some zone,
Or sphere remote, whose geologic sons,
In a glass case may have us clapp'd, and shown
As fossils of the air—quis talia fando—
But I'll not weep—Fortunæ omnia mando.”
At first I thought by climbing up some rope,
That we might cut the silk or tear a rent,
So as to let th' imprison'd gas elope;
But after each had tried th' experiment,
In climbings numberless, we lost all hope,
For none by grappling made the least ascent;
The car hung low,—the cords were small,—and we
Had ne'er since boyhood even climbed a tree.
That we might cut the silk or tear a rent,
So as to let th' imprison'd gas elope;
But after each had tried th' experiment,
In climbings numberless, we lost all hope,
For none by grappling made the least ascent;
The car hung low,—the cords were small,—and we
Had ne'er since boyhood even climbed a tree.
188
Little supposing, when we first went up,
That we should spend the morning in the sky,
Still less that we should want to dine or sup,
We ne'er had dreamt of taking a supply;—
Of liquids we had not a single cup,
Nor would our solids bear a scrutiny,
Consisting of a quince-cake, small enough,
Three pears, two apples, and a penny puff.—
That we should spend the morning in the sky,
Still less that we should want to dine or sup,
We ne'er had dreamt of taking a supply;—
Of liquids we had not a single cup,
Nor would our solids bear a scrutiny,
Consisting of a quince-cake, small enough,
Three pears, two apples, and a penny puff.—
“We're stump'd, I fear,” said Harry Green, whose mood
Changed with his grave and lengthen'd countenance;
“But our first duty is to share the food,
So as to give to each an equal chance.
The puff and quince-cake must not now be chew'd,
The pears are three, a lucky circumstance;
The apple-sharing I myself will see to,
There's one for you two, and there's one for me too.”
Changed with his grave and lengthen'd countenance;
“But our first duty is to share the food,
So as to give to each an equal chance.
The puff and quince-cake must not now be chew'd,
The pears are three, a lucky circumstance;
The apple-sharing I myself will see to,
There's one for you two, and there's one for me too.”
189
At first I thought this trite and sorry jest
Was merely fun, until he ate the prize,
When Guy and I our discontent express'd,
Whereat he said decisively—“Be wise,
Discard all thoughts of quarrel from your breast,
If we fall out we're dash'd to atomies.—”
“Humph, a high joke,” quoth Guy; “you little ween,
Hi joci in seria ducunt—Mr. Green.”
Was merely fun, until he ate the prize,
When Guy and I our discontent express'd,
Whereat he said decisively—“Be wise,
Discard all thoughts of quarrel from your breast,
If we fall out we're dash'd to atomies.—”
“Humph, a high joke,” quoth Guy; “you little ween,
Hi joci in seria ducunt—Mr. Green.”
In fact we all look'd serious as he spoke,
Eyeing each other with distrust and fear,
And none of us the sulky silence broke,
For now the sun was setting—night drew near—
None had an extra Macintosh or cloak,
And the cold grew so nipping and severe,
That though no single syllable we said,
Our teeth began to chatter in our head.
Eyeing each other with distrust and fear,
And none of us the sulky silence broke,
For now the sun was setting—night drew near—
None had an extra Macintosh or cloak,
And the cold grew so nipping and severe,
That though no single syllable we said,
Our teeth began to chatter in our head.
190
The cold augmented as we soar'd more high,
But this, though most distressing, would not bear
Comparison with the sharp agony
Caused by the rarefaction of the air.
We gasp'd for breath as if about to die,
As fishes on dry land pant, gulp, and stare,
And swell'd as if our blood and bones were thirsting
To leave the body by a general bursting.
But this, though most distressing, would not bear
Comparison with the sharp agony
Caused by the rarefaction of the air.
We gasp'd for breath as if about to die,
As fishes on dry land pant, gulp, and stare,
And swell'd as if our blood and bones were thirsting
To leave the body by a general bursting.
This must have been our dismal fate, indeed,
But that our noses, in a copious stream,
At the same moment all began to bleed,
Which gave us ease—your ministers may deem
The pressure from without a bore—agreed!
That from within is a far worse extreme,
When your exterior seems all turn'd about,
And your inside is struggling to get out.
But that our noses, in a copious stream,
At the same moment all began to bleed,
Which gave us ease—your ministers may deem
The pressure from without a bore—agreed!
That from within is a far worse extreme,
When your exterior seems all turn'd about,
And your inside is struggling to get out.
191
Up in that keen attenuated air,
Th' evaporation is so great and swift,
That we already wither'd, as it were:—
Our parch'd and rattling tongues we could not lift,
Our eyes were solder'd up—no tears were there;
And when that æther rare we breath'd or sniff'd,
Our stomach's region, and brain's pia mater,
Felt twice as dry as a limeburner's gaiter.
Th' evaporation is so great and swift,
That we already wither'd, as it were:—
Our parch'd and rattling tongues we could not lift,
Our eyes were solder'd up—no tears were there;
And when that æther rare we breath'd or sniff'd,
Our stomach's region, and brain's pia mater,
Felt twice as dry as a limeburner's gaiter.
The silence, too, so thrillingly intense,
Caused a fresh pain: dilated and acute,
Our ears ached piercingly, because their sense
Could catch no sound—all, all was hush'd and mute;
While now the darkness most profound and dense,
Might half persuade us Death had won his suit,
And struck us all, but that by fits and starts,
We heard the feeble beating of our hearts.
Caused a fresh pain: dilated and acute,
Our ears ached piercingly, because their sense
Could catch no sound—all, all was hush'd and mute;
While now the darkness most profound and dense,
Might half persuade us Death had won his suit,
And struck us all, but that by fits and starts,
We heard the feeble beating of our hearts.
192
Oh! there's an awfulness most dread and deep
In piercing thus night's topmost atmosphere,
And feeling that, however fast you sweep,
You never need look out a-head for fear
Of running foul of others, since you keep
A course that none have ever dared to steer,
And have all space before you, all your own,
E'en to the wide creation's widest zone.
In piercing thus night's topmost atmosphere,
And feeling that, however fast you sweep,
You never need look out a-head for fear
Of running foul of others, since you keep
A course that none have ever dared to steer,
And have all space before you, all your own,
E'en to the wide creation's widest zone.
But what!—methought, if like our planet, space—
Holds some vast desert,—some Zahara dark,
Where the Creator's hand has left no trace,
A primal chaos, never cheer'd by spark
Of sun or moon, and that our airy chase
Should finish by delivering our bark
Into that limbo, and so leave us fated,
'Mid nothingness to be annihilated!
Holds some vast desert,—some Zahara dark,
Where the Creator's hand has left no trace,
A primal chaos, never cheer'd by spark
Of sun or moon, and that our airy chase
Should finish by delivering our bark
Into that limbo, and so leave us fated,
'Mid nothingness to be annihilated!
193
From this appalling reverie I woke,
By seeing in the blazing skies afar,
A fearful storm, which suddenly outbroke
In the full rage of elemental war,
Amid whose lightning flash and lurid smoke,
Diminish'd earth, no bigger than our car,
Seem'd to sustain a contest most uneven,
With all the dread artillery of heaven.
By seeing in the blazing skies afar,
A fearful storm, which suddenly outbroke
In the full rage of elemental war,
Amid whose lightning flash and lurid smoke,
Diminish'd earth, no bigger than our car,
Seem'd to sustain a contest most uneven,
With all the dread artillery of heaven.
Tremendous must have been the thunder's peal,
But not the faintest murmur reach'd mine ear,
A fact, dear Nokes, which will alone reveal
Our measureless remoteness from earth's sphere.
As the storm died away I seem'd to feel
The darkness that return'd more deep and drear,
And nought disturb'd the silence of the sky,
Save the mix'd snores and mutterings of Guy.
But not the faintest murmur reach'd mine ear,
A fact, dear Nokes, which will alone reveal
Our measureless remoteness from earth's sphere.
As the storm died away I seem'd to feel
The darkness that return'd more deep and drear,
And nought disturb'd the silence of the sky,
Save the mix'd snores and mutterings of Guy.
194
Mumbling his prayers, and dreaming that he heard
His boys their Greek and Latin tasks repeat,
I caught this galimatias absurd:—
“Amo, amas—a dactyle has three feet—
God's will be done!—that's not a Latin word—
Tupto-tupteis, means—verbero, to beat;”
And then he murmured in a tone more drowsy,
“Amen!—good night,—tuptomen,—boy,—tuptousi.”
His boys their Greek and Latin tasks repeat,
I caught this galimatias absurd:—
“Amo, amas—a dactyle has three feet—
God's will be done!—that's not a Latin word—
Tupto-tupteis, means—verbero, to beat;”
And then he murmured in a tone more drowsy,
“Amen!—good night,—tuptomen,—boy,—tuptousi.”
Harry, meanwhile, as if he strove no more
With adverse fate, began to nod his head,
And soon set up a comfortable snore,
Like him who, when his bark resistless sped
Tow'rds dread Niagara's engulphing roar,
Threw down his oar, his cloak above him spread,
Stretch'd out his legs, composed himself to sleep,
And thus perform'd his last tremendous leap.
With adverse fate, began to nod his head,
And soon set up a comfortable snore,
Like him who, when his bark resistless sped
Tow'rds dread Niagara's engulphing roar,
Threw down his oar, his cloak above him spread,
Stretch'd out his legs, composed himself to sleep,
And thus perform'd his last tremendous leap.
195
Our plight, in sooth, was much the same as his,
Save that our vortex was a stream of air,
Which hurried us to some unknown abyss;—
And yet, perhaps, we better might compare
Our danger with Mazeppa's wretchedness,
For our wild steed no curb or check would bear,
And if he would, to dream of it were idle,
For in the valve-string we had lost the bridle.
Save that our vortex was a stream of air,
Which hurried us to some unknown abyss;—
And yet, perhaps, we better might compare
Our danger with Mazeppa's wretchedness,
For our wild steed no curb or check would bear,
And if he would, to dream of it were idle,
For in the valve-string we had lost the bridle.
I could not sleep; for, through the darkness dense
That hitherto had compassed us about,
In beautiful and bright magnificence,
The constellations, signs, and stars shone out,
Like monarchs stepping from their thrones; my sense
Ached at their flashing crowns, which made me doubt
Whether they were the same whose duller glories
I had oft mark'd from Earth's observatories.
That hitherto had compassed us about,
In beautiful and bright magnificence,
The constellations, signs, and stars shone out,
Like monarchs stepping from their thrones; my sense
Ached at their flashing crowns, which made me doubt
Whether they were the same whose duller glories
I had oft mark'd from Earth's observatories.
196
At length, when all unconscious of the lapse,
I sunk into a short and broken rest,
It was this vision doubtless—(though perhaps,
Mazeppa's horse occasion'd half the pest)—
That brought, 'midst many painful after-claps,
The nightmare to bestride my lab'ring breast;
And conjured up, out of this heavenly glory, a
Most diabolical phantasmagoria.
I sunk into a short and broken rest,
It was this vision doubtless—(though perhaps,
Mazeppa's horse occasion'd half the pest)—
That brought, 'midst many painful after-claps,
The nightmare to bestride my lab'ring breast;
And conjured up, out of this heavenly glory, a
Most diabolical phantasmagoria.
The Zodiac's monsters and celestial signs
Seem'd to take living bodies, near and far;
Their arms they snatch'd, and quitting their confines,
Cried “Havoc! and let slip the dogs of war.”
The trumpet's clang rang loud along their lines;
While shouted fiercely every sign and star,—
“Sacrilege, sacrilege! destroy—o'erwhelm
The impious wretches that invade our realm!”
Seem'd to take living bodies, near and far;
Their arms they snatch'd, and quitting their confines,
Cried “Havoc! and let slip the dogs of war.”
The trumpet's clang rang loud along their lines;
While shouted fiercely every sign and star,—
“Sacrilege, sacrilege! destroy—o'erwhelm
The impious wretches that invade our realm!”
197
The roaring Lion, rushing from his lair,
Lifted his paw, and bared his snarling teeth;
Up, with a growl appalling, sprang the Bear;
The hissing Serpent, darting from his wreath,
Transfix'd me with his eyeball's fiery glare;
And all the forms I saw—(I'm here beneath
The mark)—were ten times bigger, every one,
Than Doctor Mantell's famed Iguanadon.
Lifted his paw, and bared his snarling teeth;
Up, with a growl appalling, sprang the Bear;
The hissing Serpent, darting from his wreath,
Transfix'd me with his eyeball's fiery glare;
And all the forms I saw—(I'm here beneath
The mark)—were ten times bigger, every one,
Than Doctor Mantell's famed Iguanadon.
The Scorpion huge, his shudd'ring prey to reach,
Stretch'd out his bristling claws; the Hydra rear'd
His furious heads, each horrider than each;
Orion with his cries the Dog-star cheer'd;
The Twins (not Siamese) with horrid screech,
Urg'd on the Crab and Lizard; all appear'd
Eager and rampant for the sign when all,
With ravening rage, upon their prey might fall.
Stretch'd out his bristling claws; the Hydra rear'd
His furious heads, each horrider than each;
Orion with his cries the Dog-star cheer'd;
The Twins (not Siamese) with horrid screech,
Urg'd on the Crab and Lizard; all appear'd
Eager and rampant for the sign when all,
With ravening rage, upon their prey might fall.
198
It was not long delay'd. From out her chair
Cassiopeia rose, and shouted “On!”
Twang! went the Archer's bow, and through the air
Claws, teeth, horns, hoofs, and weapons fell upon
Our wretched trio; while the startled zone
Still more our 'wilder'd faculties to scare,
With roaring, growling, grunting, hissing rang,
The clash of cymbals, and the clarion's clang.
Cassiopeia rose, and shouted “On!”
Twang! went the Archer's bow, and through the air
Claws, teeth, horns, hoofs, and weapons fell upon
Our wretched trio; while the startled zone
Still more our 'wilder'd faculties to scare,
With roaring, growling, grunting, hissing rang,
The clash of cymbals, and the clarion's clang.
Roused by this charivari, when I woke,
Shivering and stupified with cold and fear,
The baseless fabric of the vision broke,
And all again was silent, dark, and drear,
Except when Guy, in mingled mutterings spoke,
Or Harry's heavy snorings met mine ear.
So pass'd the night;—but oh! with morning's beam,
The real sight was ghastlier than my dream!—
Shivering and stupified with cold and fear,
The baseless fabric of the vision broke,
And all again was silent, dark, and drear,
Except when Guy, in mingled mutterings spoke,
Or Harry's heavy snorings met mine ear.
So pass'd the night;—but oh! with morning's beam,
The real sight was ghastlier than my dream!—
199
Gaunt—stiffen'd—pale—desiccated—adust—
Our clothes and faces in a gory smear
With our nose-blood,—our stony eyes out-thrust,
Striving in vain to shed the frozen tear;
Harrow'd with horror, sicken'd with disgust,
Our teeth's sharp chatter all that met our ear,—
We looked like corpses, or three dismal dummies,
Hung up to dry till we should turn to mummies.
Our clothes and faces in a gory smear
With our nose-blood,—our stony eyes out-thrust,
Striving in vain to shed the frozen tear;
Harrow'd with horror, sicken'd with disgust,
Our teeth's sharp chatter all that met our ear,—
We looked like corpses, or three dismal dummies,
Hung up to dry till we should turn to mummies.
How long we thus remain'd transfix'd and mute,
I cannot tell—perhaps an hour or more,
Till, pinch'd with hunger, I drew out the fruit
Which I had pocketed the night before;
So did my friends, all eating with such brute
Voracity, that breakfast soon was o'er,
Tho' every pear was large and full of juice—(it's
The sort that here is called the Massachusets.)
I cannot tell—perhaps an hour or more,
Till, pinch'd with hunger, I drew out the fruit
Which I had pocketed the night before;
So did my friends, all eating with such brute
Voracity, that breakfast soon was o'er,
Tho' every pear was large and full of juice—(it's
The sort that here is called the Massachusets.)
200
O Nokes! how suddenly our frame derives
Fresh vigour, sometimes from the scantiest meal!
Our moisten'd tongues threw quickly off their gyves,
And as his mood relax'd from woe to weal,
Cried Hal, “We draw, (to judge by what I feel,)
From the first pear a second time our lives!”
Whereat Guy, frowning, said, “Don't talk at random,
Ne lude sacris, Mr. Green—nefandum!”
Fresh vigour, sometimes from the scantiest meal!
Our moisten'd tongues threw quickly off their gyves,
And as his mood relax'd from woe to weal,
Cried Hal, “We draw, (to judge by what I feel,)
From the first pear a second time our lives!”
Whereat Guy, frowning, said, “Don't talk at random,
Ne lude sacris, Mr. Green—nefandum!”
Alas! our subsequent and dire distress
Was but augmented by this short relief,
For hunger's gnawings and cold's bitterness
Returned with tenfold sharpness; but our chief
Torment was thirst, increased by the excess
Of dryness in the atmosphere;—in brief
I stated, that if others felt as I did,
I thought our quince-cake ought to be divided.
Was but augmented by this short relief,
For hunger's gnawings and cold's bitterness
Returned with tenfold sharpness; but our chief
Torment was thirst, increased by the excess
Of dryness in the atmosphere;—in brief
I stated, that if others felt as I did,
I thought our quince-cake ought to be divided.
201
“Quince-cake!” laughed Harry, with a look of bonhommie,
“To tell the truth, I swallowed it last night
From pure and abstract motives of economy,
Fearing it might evaporate outright;
But some concession you have fairly won o'me;
So of the penny puff I waive my bite.”
“Sir!” mutter'd Guy, “I hate and I despise you,
Thus blando fraudem pretexere risu.”
“To tell the truth, I swallowed it last night
From pure and abstract motives of economy,
Fearing it might evaporate outright;
But some concession you have fairly won o'me;
So of the penny puff I waive my bite.”
“Sir!” mutter'd Guy, “I hate and I despise you,
Thus blando fraudem pretexere risu.”
To guard against th' extension of this code
So treacherous and base, myself and Guy
Shared the small puff—no very heavy load
For stomachs yearning with inanity;
And now, in our most desolate abode,
Was left no drop—no mouthful of supply,
Whatever crib or cruise we might examine,
To save us from th' extremity of famine.
So treacherous and base, myself and Guy
Shared the small puff—no very heavy load
For stomachs yearning with inanity;
And now, in our most desolate abode,
Was left no drop—no mouthful of supply,
Whatever crib or cruise we might examine,
To save us from th' extremity of famine.
202
Our woes to aggravate, we found, alas!
That when the outward pressure was reduced,
In its endeavours to escape, the gas
Thro' the stretch'd silk had gradually oozed,
Until the whole machine's suspended mass,
Balanced in equilibrio, refused
To rise or fall; affording us the pleasure
To starve, or freeze, or wither up at leisure.
That when the outward pressure was reduced,
In its endeavours to escape, the gas
Thro' the stretch'd silk had gradually oozed,
Until the whole machine's suspended mass,
Balanced in equilibrio, refused
To rise or fall; affording us the pleasure
To starve, or freeze, or wither up at leisure.
“Ha!” suddenly cried Hal, “I've found a way,
By which we all may shun our threaten'd fate.”—
“What is it?” we together cried,—“Oh say!”—
“You may jump out,” drawled Harry; “I, elate,
Then to some higher habitat may stray,
While you a starving death will evitate.”
Quoth Guy,—“You should have left these jests, jamdudum,
Nec lusisse pudet, sed non incidere ludum.”
By which we all may shun our threaten'd fate.”—
“What is it?” we together cried,—“Oh say!”—
“You may jump out,” drawled Harry; “I, elate,
Then to some higher habitat may stray,
While you a starving death will evitate.”
Quoth Guy,—“You should have left these jests, jamdudum,
Nec lusisse pudet, sed non incidere ludum.”
203
“'Tis our sole chance,” quoth Hal, “for our career,
When lightened thus, will doubtless recommence,
And we may soar until some higher sphere
Bring us within attraction's influence—
Some peopl'd globe, where hospitable cheer
May welcome us with glad benevolence:
Heaven grant that we may find, for our revival,
A smoking dinner waiting our arrival.”
When lightened thus, will doubtless recommence,
And we may soar until some higher sphere
Bring us within attraction's influence—
Some peopl'd globe, where hospitable cheer
May welcome us with glad benevolence:
Heaven grant that we may find, for our revival,
A smoking dinner waiting our arrival.”
His low'ring looks soon darken'd to a stern
And fell expression that confirm'd his speech;
And thus we sate in silence, each in turn
Eyeing his comrade with misgiving—each
Holding dark counsel with his thoughts, to learn
How he might save himself—and overreach
His friends, so lawless in its operation
Is that remorseless law—Self-preservation.
And fell expression that confirm'd his speech;
And thus we sate in silence, each in turn
Eyeing his comrade with misgiving—each
Holding dark counsel with his thoughts, to learn
How he might save himself—and overreach
His friends, so lawless in its operation
Is that remorseless law—Self-preservation.
204
Heavy and slowly dragg'd the dreary day,
Our bosoms rankling with a fiercer ire,
As the light ominously died away,
And thirst and cold and hunger grew more dire.
I hoped some rain or dew-drops might allay
Our raging thirst's insatiable fire;
But in those altitudes, dear Nokes, there's neither
Rain-drops nor dew to damp the parching ether.
Our bosoms rankling with a fiercer ire,
As the light ominously died away,
And thirst and cold and hunger grew more dire.
I hoped some rain or dew-drops might allay
Our raging thirst's insatiable fire;
But in those altitudes, dear Nokes, there's neither
Rain-drops nor dew to damp the parching ether.
What horrid thoughts of violence and crime
Haunted my comrades in the dead of night,
I know not; but the Devil at one time
Urged me to grapple Green with all my might,
And throw him out; but Hal was in his prime,
And, waking, might on me bestow the flight
I meant for him. Guy was awake, poor elf!
So Satan whisper'd me—throw out thyself!
Haunted my comrades in the dead of night,
I know not; but the Devil at one time
Urged me to grapple Green with all my might,
And throw him out; but Hal was in his prime,
And, waking, might on me bestow the flight
I meant for him. Guy was awake, poor elf!
So Satan whisper'd me—throw out thyself!
205
These temptings I resisted, Heaven be praised!
And bore my torments till the break of morn,
When Harry as his heavy eyes he raised,
And marked our looks grim, haggard, and forlorn,
Gried—“Gentlemen, you surely must be crazed,
To think these pangs much longer can be borne,
We'll wait till sunset, then draw lots to know
Which of the party overboard must go.”
And bore my torments till the break of morn,
When Harry as his heavy eyes he raised,
And marked our looks grim, haggard, and forlorn,
Gried—“Gentlemen, you surely must be crazed,
To think these pangs much longer can be borne,
We'll wait till sunset, then draw lots to know
Which of the party overboard must go.”
“But it were well (the hint I venture here
Is offered to your joint consideration)
If one of you would kindly volunteer
To act the Curtius on this sad occasion,
By leaping in the gulph—a fate, 'tis clear,
Better than vi et armis jactitation,
And as you're oldest, Guy, I tell you plump,
'Tis your's to make the sacrificial jump.
Is offered to your joint consideration)
If one of you would kindly volunteer
To act the Curtius on this sad occasion,
By leaping in the gulph—a fate, 'tis clear,
Better than vi et armis jactitation,
And as you're oldest, Guy, I tell you plump,
'Tis your's to make the sacrificial jump.
206
“Mine!” cried the pedagogue, with angry sneer,
“In your own idle vein to give reply,
I might maintain that as I'm tallest here,
And we are doomed to die by inches—I
Must perish last;—besides, your loose career
Has prematurely destined you to die.
Against all suicide I make disclaimer,
Quocunque trahant fata nos sequamur.—
“In your own idle vein to give reply,
I might maintain that as I'm tallest here,
And we are doomed to die by inches—I
Must perish last;—besides, your loose career
Has prematurely destined you to die.
Against all suicide I make disclaimer,
Quocunque trahant fata nos sequamur.—
“Moreover, I've a nephew full of glee,
Yet fonder still of learning than of frolics,
For all his Latin who depends on me,
And has begun translating his Bucolics:
On his account I wish my life to be
A little lengthen'd—not of course too prolix;—
At thought of leaving him my very gorge aches,
At least—before he gets into his Georgics.”
Yet fonder still of learning than of frolics,
For all his Latin who depends on me,
And has begun translating his Bucolics:
On his account I wish my life to be
A little lengthen'd—not of course too prolix;—
At thought of leaving him my very gorge aches,
At least—before he gets into his Georgics.”
207
“Well then,” said Green, “you, Stokes, will not pretend
That you have niece or nephew—what say you?
Will you jump overboard to save a friend?”
“I would,” said I, “but I've a cousin who
Is giddy—young—wants watching, or he'll spend
His cash too fast. Oh Harry! if you knew
My cousin Tom, I ne'er had been expected
To leave him cousinless and unprotected.”
That you have niece or nephew—what say you?
Will you jump overboard to save a friend?”
“I would,” said I, “but I've a cousin who
Is giddy—young—wants watching, or he'll spend
His cash too fast. Oh Harry! if you knew
My cousin Tom, I ne'er had been expected
To leave him cousinless and unprotected.”
“As for myself, I own,” said Green, and smiled,
“That I am free from every social clog,
Have neither kith nor kindred, chick nor child,
But I've a poodle puppy—such a dog!
He, too, depends on me—is young and wild,
And from his home might wander in a fog:
You're Christians, gentlemen!—have hearts—confess
You would not leave that poodle masterless!”
“That I am free from every social clog,
Have neither kith nor kindred, chick nor child,
But I've a poodle puppy—such a dog!
He, too, depends on me—is young and wild,
And from his home might wander in a fog:
You're Christians, gentlemen!—have hearts—confess
You would not leave that poodle masterless!”
208
The voluntary principle, we saw,
Had no supporters in our coterie,
So we resolved, at sunset, lots to draw,
And sacrifice one victim of the three.
Thus sat we grim and silent, cold and raw,
Two destined murderers and one murderee;
Eyeing each other, all that day of fate,
With scowls most savage, fell, and desperate,
Had no supporters in our coterie,
So we resolved, at sunset, lots to draw,
And sacrifice one victim of the three.
Thus sat we grim and silent, cold and raw,
Two destined murderers and one murderee;
Eyeing each other, all that day of fate,
With scowls most savage, fell, and desperate,
As the watch'd sun went down—(it was the last
Sunset that one of us was doom'd to view)—
An ominous and baleful glance it cast
On our most ghastly and sepulchral crew:
Our senses swam—our hearts beat loud and fast,
And more convulsively our gasps we drew,
Clenching our teeth and drawing in our breath,
As Green prepared the paper lots of death.
Sunset that one of us was doom'd to view)—
An ominous and baleful glance it cast
On our most ghastly and sepulchral crew:
Our senses swam—our hearts beat loud and fast,
And more convulsively our gasps we drew,
Clenching our teeth and drawing in our breath,
As Green prepared the paper lots of death.
209
There was a leering devil in his eye,—
A look of cruelty and craft combined,
Which satisfied me that some treachery
Lurked in his bosom. My misgiving mind
Whisper'd that if he drew the lot to die,
Some fraudulent evasion he would find,
Or might, in desperation's last resource,
Throw overboard myself or Guy by force.
A look of cruelty and craft combined,
Which satisfied me that some treachery
Lurked in his bosom. My misgiving mind
Whisper'd that if he drew the lot to die,
Some fraudulent evasion he would find,
Or might, in desperation's last resource,
Throw overboard myself or Guy by force.
Resolved to see fair play, and sell my life
As dearly as I could, if thus defied,
I kept my hand upon a large clasp-knife
In my coat pocket, while I gave, aside,
A friendly wink to Guy, in whom the strife
Of hope and fear was potent as he cried,
“My pangs can't last, one plunge and I shall lose 'em
In space profound—profundo—profudi—profusum!”
As dearly as I could, if thus defied,
I kept my hand upon a large clasp-knife
In my coat pocket, while I gave, aside,
A friendly wink to Guy, in whom the strife
Of hope and fear was potent as he cried,
“My pangs can't last, one plunge and I shall lose 'em
In space profound—profundo—profudi—profusum!”
210
“The hour is come!” croaked Green, and well we knew
What was to follow that appalling text,
“The hour is come!”—Adzooks! that's very true,
'Tis twelve—the Packet sails at one—I'm vex'd
To break off here, dear Nokes!—in haste, adieu!
Allow me to refer you to my next,
Which will contain a full and true relation
Of what next happen'd in our aërostation.
What was to follow that appalling text,
“The hour is come!”—Adzooks! that's very true,
'Tis twelve—the Packet sails at one—I'm vex'd
To break off here, dear Nokes!—in haste, adieu!
Allow me to refer you to my next,
Which will contain a full and true relation
Of what next happen'd in our aërostation.
| The Poetical Works of Horace Smith | |