Hence Burgundy, Claret, and Port, / Away with old Hock and madeira, / Too earthly ye are for my sport; / There's a beverage brighter and clearer. / Instead of a piriful rummer, / My wine overbrims a whole summer; / My bowl is the sky, / And I drink at my eye, / Till I feel in the brain / A Delphian pain / Then follow, my Caius! then follow: / On the green of the hill / We will drink our fill / Of golden sunshine, / Till our brains intertwine / With the glory and grace of Apollo! / God of the Meridian, / And of the East and West, / To thee my soul is flown, / And my body is earthward press'd. / It is an awful mission, / A terrible division; / And leaves a gulph austere / To be fill'd with worldly fear. / Aye, when the soul is fled / To high above our head, / Affrighted do we gaze / After its airy maze, / As doth a mother wild, / When her young infant child / Is in an eagle's claws / And is not this the cause / Of madness? God of Song, / Thou bearest me along / Through sights I scarce can bear: / O let me, let me share / With the hot lyre and thee, / The staid Philosophy. / Temper my lonely hours, / And let me see thy bowers / More unalarm'd!

Ah! ken ye what I met the day / Out oure the Mountains / A coming down by craggi[e]s grey / An mossie fountains / A[h] goud hair'd Marie yeve I pray / Ane minute's guessing / For that I met upon the way / Is past expressing. / As I stood where a rocky brig / A torrent crosses / I spied upon a misty rig / A troup o' Horses / And as they trotted down the glen / I sped to meet them / To see if I might know the Men / To stop and greet them. / First Willie on his sleek mare came / At canting gallop / His long hair rustled like a flame / On board a shallop. / Then came his brother Rab and then / Young Peggy's Mither / And Peggy too adown the glen / They went togither / I saw her wrappit in her hood / Fra wind and raining / Her cheek was flush wi' timid blood / 'Twixt growth and waning / She turn'd her dazed head full oft / For there her Brithers / Came riding with her Bridegroom soft / And mony ithers. / Young Tam came up an' eyed me quick / With reddened cheek / Braw Tam was daffed like a chick / He coud na speak / Ah Marie they are all gane hame / Through blustering weather / An' every heart is full on flame / Ah! Marie they are all gone hame / Fra happy wedding, / Whilst I Ah is it not a shame? / Sad tears am shedding.

Pensive they sit, and roll their languid eyes, / Nibble their toast, and cool their tea with sighs, / Or else forget the purpose of the night, / Forget their tea, forget their appetite. / See with cross'd arms they sit, ah! happy crew, / The fire is going out and no one rings / For coals, and therefore no coals Betty brings. / A fly is in the milk-pot, must he die / By a humane society? / No, no; there Mr. Werter takes his spoon, / Inserts it, dips the handle, and lo! soon / The little straggler, sav'd from perils dark, / Across the teaboard draws a long wet mark. / Arise! take snuffers by the handle, / There's a large cauliflower in each candle. / A winding-sheet, ah me! I must away / To No. 7, just beyond the circus gay. / 'Alas, my friend! your coat sits very well; / Where may your tailor live?'    'I may not tell. / O pardon me, I'm absent now and then. / Where might my tailor live?    I say again / I cannot tell, let me no more be teaz'd, / He lives in Wapping, might live where he pleas'd.'

'Tis the witching hour of night, / Orbed is the moon and bright, / And the stars they glisten, glisten, / Seeming with bright eyes to listen, / For what listen they? / For a song and for a charm, / See they glisten in alarm, / And the moon is waxing warm / To hear what I shall say. / Moon! keep wide thy golden ears, / Hearken, stars! and hearken, spheres! / Hearken, thou eternal sky! / I sing an infant's lullaby, / A pretty lullaby. / Listen, listen, listen, listen, / Glisten, glisten, glisten, glisten, / And hear my lullaby! / Though the rushes that will make / Its cradle still are in the lake, / Though the linen that will be / Its swathe, is on the cotton tree, / Though the woollen that will keep / It warm, is on the silly sheep, / Listen, starlight, listen, listen, / Glisten, glisten, glisten, glisten, / And hear my lullaby! / Child, I see thee!    Child, I've found thee / Midst of the quiet all around thee! / And thy mother sweet is nigh thee! / But a Poet evermore! / See, see, the lyre, the lyre, / In a flame of fire, / Upon the little cradle's top / Flaring, flaring, flaring, / Past the eyesight's bearing, / Awake it from its sleep, / And see if it can keep / Its eyes upon the blaze, / Amaze, amaze! / It stares, it stares, it stares, / It dares what no one dares! / It lifts its little hand into the flame / Unharm'd, and on the strings / Paddles a little tune, and sings, / With dumb endeavour sweetly, / Bard art thou completely! / Little child / O' th' western wild, / Bard art thou completely! / Sweetly with dumb endeavour, / A Poet now or never, / Little child / O' th' western wild, / A Poet now or never!

I. /     There was a naughty boy, /     A naughty boy was he, /     He would not stop at home, /     He could not quiet be /     He took /     In his knapsack /     A book /     Full of vowels /     And a shirt /     With some towels, /     A slight cap /     For night cap, /     A hair brush, /     Comb ditto, /     New stockings /     For old ones /     Would split O! /     This knapsack /     Tight at's back /     He rivetted close /     And followed his nose /     To the north, /     To the north, /     And follow'd his nose /     To the north. / II. /     There was a naughty boy /     And a naughty boy was he, /     For nothing would he do /     But scribble poetry /     He took /     An ink stand /     In his hand /     And a pen /     Big as ten /     In the other, /     And away /     In a pother /     He ran /     To the mountains /     And fountains /     And ghostes /     And postes /     And witches /     And ditches /     And wrote /     In his coat /     When the weather /     Was cool, /     Fear of gout, /     And without /     When the weather /     Was warm /     Och the charm /     When we choose /     To follow one's nose /     To the north, /     To the north, /     To follow one's nose /     To the north! / III. /     There was a naughty boy /     And a naughty boy was he, /     He kept little fishes /     In washing tubs three /     In spite /     Of the might /     Of the maid /     Nor afraid /     Of his Granny-good /     He often would /     Hurly burly /     Get up early /     And go /     By hook or crook /     To the brook /     And bring home /     Miller's thumb, /     Tittlebat /     Not over fat, /     Minnows small /     As the stall /     Of a glove, /     Not above /     The size /     Of a nice /     Little baby's /     Little fingers /     O he made /     'Twas his trade /     Of fish a pretty kettle /     A kettle /     A kettle /     Of fish a pretty kettle /     A kettle! / IV. /     There was a naughty boy, /     And a naughty boy was he, /     He ran away to Scotland /     The people for to see /     There he found /     That the ground /     Was as hard, /     That a yard /     Was as long, /     That a song /     Was as merry, /     That a cherry /     Was as red, /     That lead /     Was as weighty, /     That fourscore /     Was as eighty, /     That a door /     Was as wooden /     As in England /     So he stood in his shoes /     And he wonder'd, /     He wonder'd, /     He stood in his /     Shoes and he wonder'd.

Give me your patience, sister, while I frame / Exact in capitals your golden name; / Or sue the fair Apollo and he will / Rouse from his heavy slumber and instill / Great love in me for thee and Poesy. / Imagine not that greatest mastery / And kingdom over all the Realms of verse, / Nears more to heaven in aught, than when we nurse / And surety give to love and Brotherhood. / Anthropophagi in Othello's mood; / Ulysses storm'd and his enchanted belt / Glow with the Muse, but they are never felt / Unbosom'd so and so eternal made, / Such tender incense in their laurel shade / To all the regent sisters of the Nine / As this poor offering to you, sister mine. / Kind sister! aye, this third name says you are; / Enchanted has it been the Lord knows where; / And may it taste to you like good old wine, / Take you to real happiness and give / Sons, daughters and a home like honied hive.

When they were come into Faery's Court /     They rang, no one at home, all gone to sport /     And dance and kiss and love as faerys do /     For Faries be as human lovers true, /     Amid the woods they were so lone and wild /     Where even the Robin feels himself exil'd /     And where the very books as if affraid /     Hurry along to some less magic shade. /     'No one at home'! the fretful princess cry'd /     'And all for nothing such a dre[a]ry ride /     And all for nothing my new diamond cross /     No one to see my persian feathers toss /     No one to see my Ape, my Dwarf, my Fool /     Or how I pace my Otaheitan mule. /     Ape, Dwarf and Fool why stand you gaping there /     Burst the door open, quick, or I declare /     I'll switch you soundly and in pieces tear.' /     The Dwarf began to tremble and the Ape /     Star'd at the Fool, the Fool was all agape /     The Princess grasp'd her switch but just in time /     The Dwarf with piteous face began to rhyme. /     "O mighty Princess did you ne'er hear tell /     What your poor servants know but too too well /     Know you the three great crimes in faery land /     The first alas! poor Dwarf I understand /     I made a whipstock of a faery's wand /     The next is snoring in their company /     The next the last the direst of the three /     Is making free when they are not at home. /     I was a Prince, a baby prince, my doom /     You see, I made a whipstock of a wand /     My top has henceforth slept in faery land. /     He was a Prince the Fool, a grown up Prince /     But he has never been a King's son since /     He fell a snoring at a faery Ball /     Your poor Ape was a Prince and he poor thing /     But ape, so pray your highness stay awhile /     'Tis sooth indeed we know it to our sorrow, /     Persist and you may be an ape tomorrow, /     While the Dwarf spake the Princess all for spite /     Peal'd the brown hazel twig to lilly white /     Clench'd her small teeth, and held her lips apart /     Try'd to look unconcerned with beating heart. /     They saw her highness had made up her mind /     And quaver'd like the reeds before the wind /     And they had had it, but O happy chance /     The Ape for very fear began to dance /     And grin'd as all his uglyness did ache, /     She staid her vixen fingers for his sake /     He was so very ugly: then she took /     Her pocket mirror and began to look /     First at herself and [then] at him and then /     She smil'd at her own beauteous face again. /     Yet for all this, for all her pretty face /     She took it in her head to see the place. /     Women gain little from experience /     Either in Lovers, husbands or expense. /     The more their beauty the more fortune too /     Beauty before the wide world never knew. /     So each fair reasons, tho' it oft miscarries. /     She thought her pretty face would please the fa[e]ries. /     "My darling Ape I wont whip you today /     Give me the Picklock sirrah and go play." /     They all three wept but counsel was as vain /     As crying cup biddy to drops of rain. /     Yet lingeringly did the sad Ape forth draw /     The Picklock from the Pocket in his Jaw. /     The Princess took it and dismounting straight /     Trip'd in blue silver'd slippers to the gate /     And touch'd the wards, the Door full courteously /     Opened, she enter'd with her servants three. /     Again it clos'd and there was nothing seen /     But the Mule grasing on the herbage green. / End of Canto xii. / Canto the xiii. /     The Mule no sooner saw himself alone /     Than he prick'd up his Ears, and said 'well done! /     At least unhappy Prince I may be free, /     No more a Princess shall side saddle me /     O King of Othaiete, tho' a Mule /     'Aye every inch a King', tho' 'Fortune's fool.' /     Well done, for by what Mr. Dwarfy said /     I would not give a sixpence for her head.' /     Even as he spake he trotted in high glee /     To the knotty side of an old Pollard tree /     And rub'd his sides against the mossed bark /     Till his Girths burst and left him naked stark /     Except his Bridle, how get rid of that /     Buckled and tied with many a twist and plait. /     At last it struck him to pretend to sleep /     And then the thievish Monkies down would creep /     And filch the unpleasant trammels quite away. /     No sooner thought of than adown he lay /     Sham'd a good snore, the Monkey-men descended /     And whom they thought to injure they befriended. /     They hung his Bridle on a topmost bough /     And of[f] he went run, trot, or anyhow,

Dark eyes are dearer far / Than those that mock the hyacinthine bell. / Blue! 'Tis the life of heaven, the domain / Of Cynthia, the wide palace of the sun, / The tent of Hesperus, and all his train, / The bosomer of clouds, gold, gray, and dun. / Blue! 'Tis the life of waters: Ocean / And all its vassal streams, pools numberless, / May rage, and foam, and fret, but never can / Subside, if not to dark-blue nativeness. / Blue! gentle cousin of the forest-green, / Married to green in all the sweetest flowers / Forget-me-not, the blue-bell, and, that queen / Of secrecy, the violet: what strange powers / Hast thou, as a mere shadow! But how great, / When in an Eye thou art alive with fate!

Asleep! O sleep a little while, white pearl! / And let me kneel, and let me pray to thee, / And let me call Heaven’s blessing on thine eyes, / And let me breathe into the happy air, / That doth enfold and touch thee all about, / Vows of my slavery, my giving up, / My sudden adoration, my great love!

Mrs. C. / Upon my Life Sir Nevis I am pique'd / That I have so far panted tugg'd and reek'd / To do an honour to your old bald pate / And now am sitting on you just to bate, / Without your paying me one compliment. / Alas 'tis so with all, when our intent / Is plain, and in the eye of all Mankind / We fair ones show a preference, too blind! / You Gentle man immediately turn tail, / O let me then my hapless fate bewail! / Ungrateful Baldpate have I not disdain'd / The pleasant Valleys, have I not madbrain'd / Deserted all my Pickles and preserves / My China closet too, with wretched Nerves / To boot, say wretched ingrate have I not / Left my soft cushion chair and caudle pot. / 'Tis true I had no corns, no! thank the fates / My Shoemaker was always Mr. Bates. / And if not Mr. Bates why I'm not old! / Still dumb ungrateful Nevis, still so cold! / Here the Lady took some more whiskey and was putting even more to her lips when she dashed it to the Ground for the Mountain began to grumble, which continued for a few minutes before he thus began, / Ben Nevis. / What whining bit of tongue and Mouth thus dares / Disturb my slumber of a thousand years? / Even so long my sleep has been secure, / And to be so awakened I'll not endure. / Oh pain, for since the Eagle's earliest scream / I've had a damn'd confounded ugly dream, / A Nightmare sure.    What Madam was it you? / It cannot be!    My old eyes are not true! / Red-Crag, my Spectacles!    Now let me see! / Good Heavens Lady how the gemini / Did you get here?    O I shall split my sides! / I shall earthquake, / Mrs. C. / Sweet Nevis do not quake, for though I love / Your honest Countenance all things above / Truly I should not like to be convey'd / So far into your Bosom, gentle Maid / Loves not too rough a treatment gentle Sir, / Pray thee be calm and do not quake nor stir / No not a Stone or I shall go in fits / Ben Nevis. / I must, I shall, I meet not such tid bits, / I meet not such sweet creatures every day, / By my old night cap night cap night and day / I must have one sweet Buss, I must and shall: / Red Crag!, What Madam can you then repent / Of all the toil and vigour you have spent / To see Ben Nevis and to touch his nose? / Red Crag I say! O I must have them close! / Red Crag, there lies beneath my farthest toe / A vein of Sulphur, go dear Red Crag, go / And rub your flinty back against it, budge! / Dear Madam I must kiss you, faith I must! / I must Embrace you with my dearest gust! / Block-head, d'ye hear, Block-head I'll make her feel / There lies beneath my east leg's northern heel / A cave of young earth dragons, well my boy / Go thither quick and so complete my joy / Take you a bundle of the largest pines / And when the sun on fiercest Phosphor shines / Fire them and ram them in the Dragon's nest, / Then will the dragons fry and fizz their best / Until ten thousand now no bigger than / Poor Alligators, poor things of one span, / Will each one swell to twice ten times the size / Of northern whale, then for the tender prize, / The moment then, for then will Red Crag rub / His flinty back, and I shall kiss and snub / And press my dainty morsel to my breast. / Block-head make haste! / O Muses weep the rest, / The Lady fainted and he thought her dead / So pulled the clouds again about his head / And went to sleep again, soon she was rous'd / By her affrighted servants, next day hous'd / Safe on the lowly ground she bless'd her fate / That fainting fit was not delayed too late. / But what surprises me above all is how this Lady got down again.