he has still boldly kept on his career of glory, unmoved by the brutum fulmen of this parliament-man's oratory, or the perilous pop-gun of this press-gang man's ridicule. However, great as may be his philosophy, he is not exempted from all the emotions of inferior beings; and he sometimes feels the "venom of the shaft," when he would not shrink from " the vigour of the bow." In a moment when a tender melancholy was mingled with the conscious pride with which he looked upon his great progeny of architectural creations, he produced the following sportive imitation of Gray's celebrated" Ode to Eton College:" As, Art's dull precepts scorning, Say, Master ALLEN †, hast thou seen Who foremost now delights to stop Dare some, on critic business bent, Will wondering students e'er disdain, And Taste, beyond the BANK, descry? Let them look here, before, behind; Be theirs the beauties of my style, The roofs unsham'd by slate or tile, The brick with Portland dress'd, * See Catalogue of Academy, 1820. + The name of the Superior of the College, in perpetuo. The designation of the College by its founder. And curious antiques ; The chimney-groups that fright the sweep, And all my mighty freaks. Let them, regardless of my doom, Nor fear the writing, spouting scum, For see, how all around me wait The crows who watch an Artist's fate- Grinning at every pang. May these the lawyer's talons tear, And fines that lurk behind!! Let them in Newgate pine their youth!! Eat thousands from their sale away!!! See e'en where saving BANKES doth rise, Catching the Speaker's eye, To make THE COURTS a sacrifice, A common infamy ; The stings of wit will CROKER try? See, where in Palace-yard below Sneering in gown and wig. This mocks my PASSAGE, that my DOME, The very juries rage; And beardless students, cramm'd and jamm'd, Swear that my COURTS may For a most hideous cage. each be damn'd To each his sufferings-all great men, We'll still buy puffs, though somewhat tame, The HOUSE Some day MUST rise, The BOARD OF WORKS yet pays its fees- We will add nothing to the force of this production, but a votive prayer : Lo! thy great empire Cadmus is restored ;— O.M-R.H. We have parodied the conclusion of the Dunciad, having vainly attempted to translate four lines of some (to us) unknown language, with which Van der Von Bluggen terminates an eulogy upon his discoveries : Citypa Vhlaa ih ir chi Mrpb om A ta Bah, Mncire oyonl tnyhvs woa ti tahas bihml iae Esalbecy: le a Jes Nseahn -sn Jh CAF hbww MMVKDWWO! 464 WHAT YOU WILL. No. IV. FRAGMENT. I. Beside my nightly fire With whom awhile I held Such converse light and cold And unresponding hearts could entertain. Of her, his love, his hope, His solitary joy, The light of his still heart: Of her, to whom alone, As by a spell laid open, His deep-fraught soul discloses The stores of love and beauty, that lie hid He is gone and all is still, Save tread of passing foot, Or the light flickering of the dying fire, II. O Silence! image of eternity! Thou minister divine, Sent to this lower sphere To teach our grovelling souls Thou that art strength and freedom, loosing us O potent Silence! thou that wrappest us And opening to our sight the world within: In thy divine embrace; |