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...And the lads are shaping bows;

               LXX

     When the goodman mends his armor,
          And trims his helmet's plume;
     When the goodwife's shuttle merrily
          Goes flashing through the loom;
     With weeping and with laughter
          Still is the story told,
     How well Horatius kept the bridge
          In the brave days of old....Read more of this...

...
Gives Truth pre-eminence, and Worth command; 
Her eye directs the path that leads to Fame, 
Lights Valour's torch, and trims the glorious flame; 
She scatters joy o'er Nature's endless scope, 
Gives strength to Reason­extacy to Hope; 
Tempers each pang Humanity can feel, 
And binds presumptuous Power with nerves of steel; 
Strangles each tyrant Phantom in its birth, 
And knows no title­but SUPERIOR WORTH. 

Enlighten'd Gallia! what were all your toys, 
Your dazzling splendou...Read more of this...

...Age.
And drove those Holy Vandals off the Stage.

But see! each Muse, in Leo's Golden Days,
Starts from her Trance, and trims her wither'd Bays!
Rome's ancient Genius, o'er its Ruins spread,
Shakes off the Dust, and rears his rev'rend Head!
Then Sculpture and her Sister-Arts revive;
Stones leap'd to Form, and Rocks began to live;
With sweeter Notes each rising Temple rung;
A Raphael painted, and a Vida sung!
Immortal Vida! on whose honour'd Brow
The Poet's Bays and Critick's ...Read more of this...

...tle wars big combines wage...
He keeps his logic loose, his feelings flimsy;
Turns eloquence to cant and wit to whimsy;
Trims language till it fits his clients, pattern
And style's a glossy tart or limping slattern.

He studies our defences, finds the cracks
And where the wall is weak or worn, attacks.
lie finds the fear that's deep, the wound that's tender,
And mastered, outmanouevered, we surrender.
We who have tried to choose accept his choice
And tired succumb to his unti...Read more of this...

...
 Can kindle rapture in his gaze.
Where once he swung the sword of wrath
 And peoples trembled at his word,
With hoe he trims a pansied path
 And listens to a bird.

His large of life was lived with noise,
 With war and strife and crash of kings:
But now he hungers for the joys
 Of peace, and hush of homely things.
His old dog nuzzles by his knee,
 And seems to say: 'Oh Master dear,
Please do not ever part from me!
 We are so happy here.'

His ancient maid, as sky draws dim,
...Read more of this...

...in—that, his son-in-law—that next"—who cares! 
 Some perfumed puppet! "Milton?" "He in black— 
 Yon silent scribe who trims their eloquence!" 
 Still 'chronicling small-beer,'—such is my duty! 
 Yea, one whose thunder roared through martyr bones 
 Till Pope and Louis Grand quaked on their thrones, 
 And echoed "Vengeance for the Vaudois," where 
 The Sultan slumbers sick with scent of roses. 
 He is but the mute in this seraglio— 
 "Pure" Cromwell's Council! 
 But t...Read more of this...

...light. 
Swift from the branches of the holy oak, 
Horror, confusion, fear, and torment brake; 
And still when midnight trims her mazy lamp, 
They take their way through Tiber's wat'ry swamp. 
On Tiber's banks, close ranked, a warring train, 
Stretch'd to the distant edge of Galca's plain; 
So when arrived at Gaigra's highest steep, 
We view the wide expansion of the deep; 
See in the gilding of her wat'ry robe, 
The quick declension of the circling globe; 
From the blue sea ...Read more of this...

...,
     And morning dawned on Benvenue.




CANTO SECOND.

The Island.

     I.

     At morn the black-cock trims his jetty wing,
          'T is morning prompts the linnet's blithest lay,
     All Nature's children feel the matin spring
          Of life reviving, with reviving day;
     And while yon little bark glides down the bay,
          Wafting the stranger on his way again,
     Morn's genial influence roused a minstrel gray,
          And sweetly ...Read more of this...

...go to Hell!
(Dickie, he will, that's certain.) I'll lie in our standin'-bed,
An' Mac'll take her in ballast -- an' she trims best by the head. . . .
Down by the head an' sinkin', her fires are drawn and cold,
And the water's splashin' hollow on the skin of the empty hold --
Churning an' choking and chuckling, quiet and scummy and dark --
Full to her lower hatches and risin' steady. Hark!
That was the after-bulkhead. . . . She's flooded from stem to stern. . . .
'Never seen d...Read more of this...

...Emily out, 
The wife of thirty years who served me well; 
(Not like this beldam clattering in the kitchen, 
That never trims a lamp nor sweeps the floor, 
And brings me greasy soup in a foul crock.) 

Blast the old harridan! What’s fetched her now, 
Leaving me in the dark, and short of fire? 
And where’s my pipe? ’Tis lucky I’ve a turn 
For thinking, and remembering all that’s past. 
And now’s my hour, before I hobble to bed, 
To set the works a-wheezing, wind the clock 
Tha...Read more of this...

...heard him declare
'You have baked me too brown, I must sugar my hair.'
As a duck with its eyelids, so he with his nose
Trims his belt and his buttons, and turns out his toes.
When the sands are all dry, he is gay as a lark,
And will talk in contemptuous tones of the Shark:
But, when the tide rises and sharks are around,
His voice has a timid and tremulous sound.' 

'I passed by his garden, and marked, with one eye,
How the Owl and the Panter were sharing a pie:
The Panther t...Read more of this...

...the day,
(Deceiv'd, yet cherish'd by the flatt'rer hope)
When she shall meet her Hero. On the Eve
Of Sabbath rest, she trims her little hut
With blossoms, fresh and gaudy, still, herself
The queen-flow'r of the garland ! The sweet Rose
Of wood-wild beauty, blushing thro' her tears.

One little Son she has, a lusty Boy,
The darling of her guiltless, mourning heart,
The only dear and gay associate
Of her lone widowhood. His sun-burnt cheek
Is never blanch'd with fear, though h...Read more of this...

...There is a natty kind of mind
That slicks its thoughts,
Culls its oughts,
Trims its views,
Prunes its trues,
And never suspects it is a rind....Read more of this...

...eck to larboard.
And, as a sea-duck flies and swins
At once, so came the light craft up,
With its sole lateen sail that trims
And turns (the water round its rims
Dancing, as round a sinking cup)
And by us like a fish it curled,
And drew itself up close beside,
Its great sail on the instant furled,
And o'er its planks, a shrill voice cried
(A neck as bronzed as a Lascar's)
'Buy wine of us, you English Brig?
Or fruit, tobacco and cigars?
A Pilot for you to Triest?
Without one, ...Read more of this...

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