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Say, by what witchcraft, or what demon led,-
Some say the devil himself is in that mare:
Three shillings cost the first, the last seven groats; Sullen you turn from both, and call for oats.
Others bring goods and treasure to their houses, Something to deck their pretty babes and spouses; My only token was a cup like horn,
That's made of nothing but a lady's corn. "Tis not for that I grieve; no, 'tis to see
The groom and sorrel mare preferred to me!
These, for some moments when you deign to quit, And (at due distance) sweet discourse admit, 'Tis all my pleasure thy past toil to know, For pleased remembrance builds delight on woe. At every danger pants thy consort's breast, And gaping infants squall to hear the rest. How did I tremble, when, by thousands bound, I saw thee stretch'd on Lilliputian ground? When scaling armies climb'd up every part, Each step they trod, I felt upon my heart. But when thy torrent quench'd the dreadful blaze, King, queen, and nation, staring with amaze,
Full in my view how all my husband came,
When folks might see thee all the country round
O teach me, dear, new words to speak my flame!
Or Glumglum's humbler title soothe thy ear:
To hymn harmonious Houyhnhnm through the nose,
TO QUINBUS FLESTRIN, THE MAN-MOUNTAIN.
A LILLIPUTIAN ODE.
Lost, I gaze,
Can our eyes
Reach thy size?
When they said
Propp'd the skies:
See! and believe your eyes!
See him stride
When he treads,
Groan and shake:
Let his spurn
Man and steed,
Troops take heed!
Speed your flight!
Lest an host
Beneath his foot be lost.
From his hide,
From his nose
So shall I,
Lofty Poet! touch the sky.
[The following translation exists in the handwriting of Mr. Fermor, of Tusmore, the last of the name, who devised his estates in trust for his
daughter, Maria, wife of Captain John Turner Ramsay. Mr. Fermor prefaces the verses with this statement: "The following translation was made at
the desire of the Rev. Mr. Brown, chaplain to Mr. Caryl, of Lady-holt, a Roman Catholic gentleman, on Mr. Pope, our celebrated poet, making a visit there, who, being requested by Mr. Brown to translate the following hymn or rythmus, composed by St. Francis Xavier, Apostle of the Indies, on the morn. ing after produced what follows."-A copy of the Hymn was sent to the Gentleman's Magazine, by a correspondent from Baltimore, and appears in the number for October, 1791. The correspondent of the magazine says he received it, nearly forty years before, from Mr. Brown, who died some time after, aged about ninety. "This venerable man had lived in England, as domestic chaplain in the family of the Mr. Caryl to whom Mr. Pope inscribes the Rape of the Lock, in the beginning of that poem; and at whose house he spent much of his time in the early and gay part of his life. I was informed by Mr. Brown, that, seeing the poet often amuse the family with verses of gallantry, he took the liberty one day of requesting him to change the subject of his compositions, and to devote his talents to the translating of the Latin hymn."]
THOU art my God, sole object of my love;
Not for the hope of endless joys above;
1 Oratio à Sancto Xaverio composita.
O Deus! ego amo te:
Aut quià non amantes te
Eterno punis igne.
Tu, tu, mî Jesu! totum me
Amplexus es in cruce.
Tulisti clavos, lanceam,
Multamque ignominiam ;
Sudores, et angores,