But first he bargain'd with the man,

And took his only shilling!

That night he dreamt he'd given away his pelf, Walk'd in his sleep, and sleeping hung himself! And now his soul and body rest below;

And here they say his punishment and fate is To lie awake and every hour to know How many people read his tombstone GRATIS.

XI.

"CLOTHES."

ACH Bond-street buck conceits, unhappy elf!

He shows his clothes! Alas! he shows himself.

O that they knew, these overdrest self-lovers, What hides the body oft the mind discovers.

XII.

ON THE CURIOUS CIRCUMSTANCE

THAT IN THE GERMAN LANGUAGE THE SUN

IS FEMININE AND THE MOON

MASCULINE.

UR English poets, bad and good,

agree

To make the Sun a male, the Moon

a she..

He drives HIS dazzling diligence on high,
In verse, as constantly as in the sky;

And cheap as blackberries1our sonnets show The Moon, Heaven's huntress, with HER silver bow;

By which they'd teach us, if I guess aright,
Man rules the day, and woman rules the night.
In Germany they just reverse the thing;
The Sun becomes a queen, the Moon a king.
Now, that the Sun should represent the women,
The Moon the men, to me seem'd mighty
humming;

And when I first read German, made me stare.
Surely it is not that the wives are there

As common as the Sun to lord and loon,
And all their husbands horned as the Moon ?

XIII.

SPOTS IN THE SUN.

Y father confessor is strict and holy,
Mi Fili, still he cries, peccare noli.
And yet how oft I find the pious man,
At Annette's door, the lovely cour-
tesan!

Her soul's deformity the good man wins
And not her charms! he comes to hear her sins!
Good father! I would fain not do thee wrong;
But ah! I fear that they who oft and long

1 Blackberries.] Compare Falstaff's "if reasons were as plentiful as blackberries."-Henry IV. Part I. Act ii.

S. 4.

Stand gazing at the sun, to count each spot, Must sometimes find the sun itself too hot.

XIV.

"A TALKER."

HEN Surface talks of other people's worth,

He has the weakest memory on

earth!

And when his own good deeds he deigns to mention,

His memory still is no whit better grown;
But then he makes up for it, all will own,
By a prodigious talent of invention.

XV.

TO MY CANDLE.

OOD Candle, thou that with thy brother, Fire,

Art my best friend and comforter

at night,

Just snuff'd, thou look'st as if thou didst desire That I on thee an epigram should write. Dear Candle, burnt down to a finger-joint, Thy own flame is an epigram of sight; 'Tis short, and pointed, and all over light, Yet gives most light and burns the keenest at the point.

THE KNIGHT'S TOMB.*

HERE is the grave of Sir Arthur
O'Kellyn?

W

Where may the grave of that good man be ?

By the side of a spring, on the breast of Hel

vellyn,

Under the twigs of a young birch tree!
The oak that in summer was sweet to hear,
And rustled its leaves in the fall of the year,
And whistled and roar'd in the winter alone,
Is gone,—and the birch in its stead is grown.-
The Knight's bones are dust,

And his good sword rust;

His soul is with the saints, I trust.

* Quoted in Ivanhoe in 1820. Dated by Sara Cole ridge 1802.

1

METRICAL FEET.*

LESSON FOR A BOY.

ROCHEE trips from long to shōrt;
From long to long in solemn sort
Slow Spōndee stalks; strong foot!
yet ill able

Evěr to come up with Dactyl trĭsyllablě.

Iambics march from short to long ;

With a leap and ǎ bound the swift Anăpăsts throng;

One syllable long, with one short at each side, Amphibrachys hastes with a stately stride ;First and last being long, middle short, Amphi

macer

Strikes his thundering hoofs like a proud highbred Racer.

If Derwent be innocent, steady, and wise,

* The edition of 1852 gives 1807 as the date, which is probably correct, or Derwent Coleridge would have changed it.

1 Ever to, &c.] "Come up with and Dactyl tri are certainly remarkable specimens of dactyls. And to think that the second syllable is short in apaests throng,-a diphthong before six consonants!