I love the wanderer to mislead, And I rejoice to mark his dread Yet I can even bear the light, The dazzling light of day to view, When the Valkyne's take their flight, And wave their wings of bloody hue: For 'tis delightful to behold The bow-string send its feather'd dart,† And the sword strike so deep and cold Into the trembling human heart. O Embla's daughter, fair art thou! But vain the boast of virtue's power: Ha, ha! the spoiler clasps thee now, And withered is the lovely flower. Say, why dost thou in battle's flood Thus headlong plunge, young horseman bold? Thy father's grave is soil'd with bloodHa, ha! that blood was shed for gold. A sage dwelt in his calm retreat — Of truth was ever his discourse; His accent flowed as pure and sweet As, Odin, thine at Mimer's source. A little vapour straight I threw Into the bookworm's dazzled eyes; Joy, joy! he will my presence rueAlfader's power he now denies. The poet's dreams I ever hate Valhalla's visions all untrue! His lips of fame and country prate, And puissant gods, and virtue too. I cannot tempt the fool, I know, From the high cloud where he resides; Let Thor** come with his hammer now; Whose crest a forest proudly bore. Let the Sun shed his glorious light; But Evil is immortal still, And he with Good shall ever fight. The right reverend bard received tremendous applause in return for this specimen of his cantatory powers; and Sir Morgan O'Doherty rose and proposed the poets of Sweden and Denmark in the following facetious oration: "Gentlemen," said Sir Morgan, buttoning his surtout to his chin"Gentlemen, unaccustomed as I am to public speaking—" "In the name of Peace, Sir Morgan," said Mr. YORKE, " do drop that accursed formula, for it has been hacked to pieces, and nobody minds it now. We'll take for granted all that you intend to say in the way of modesty; and I am sure that in your case we shall not lose much of the commodity by the check." "Mr. YORKE," said Sir Morgan, "I wish you the compliments of the season, and am very much obliged to you for the loan of your civility, and therefore shall proceed with due caution. As for Elias Tegner, the Bishop of Abo, or some other foreign part, he and I are old cronies. Many a time we drowned down the long Finnish night I do not mean a night at the Finish-in drinking what in the antique and parental language of our father-land is called schnaps. The bishop drank like an old patriarch-a man deserving of canonization at the hands of any Pope Boniface that ever blessed any thing stouter than holy water. There's my old friend Oehlenschlaeger the Dane sitting near me, and to him I fearlessly appeal for a recollection of the nights which we passed together--not in toys and wine, but in jollity and punch. Do not you recollect, Ohelenschlaeger, the time when you concocted your grand poem of Aladdin? It was one of the best things you ever did." as "I remember it well, sir," said Ohelenschlaeger, reverently lifting the meerschaum from his muzzle, and knocking the white ashes upon the table, while he exhaled slowly a long cerulean steam of tobacco-scented fume -"I remember it, sir," said he, well as yesterday; and I recollect, too, that you had the kindness not only to translate the chorus of the genii building the palace in a manner the most peculiar, but also to write a letter in my name to Blackwood's Magazine, prefatory to the version." "Do not thank me for it," said the Ensign, visibly affected by the deep Valkynes, celestial maidens who attend on the field of battle. § Odin is father of the gods. Mimer is the god of eloquence his source is Urda. ¶ Valhalla is the paradise of the Scandinavians. **Thor is the god of thunder. gratitude evinced by the Danish poet, Ber nadotte hastened to explain that he was "The fact is evident," said O'Donoghue, "that my brother militaire has a translation in his pocket, and that all this palaver about his intimacy with King Bernadotte, and Bishop Tegner, and Apollo, and Mercurius, and the rest, as my friend Barry Cornwall here felicitously expresses it, is merely improvised for the purpose of puffing off Come, the forthcoming translation. Sir Morgan, honestly confess who is "Mr. O'Donoghue, of the Royal sagacity has altogether, and from top The Man of Genius blushed and replied nothing; the company was silent. Lockhart." Are we to be foreignered to death, OLIVER?" Oliver." By no means! Let us have your opinion on any subject you like.' Lockhart." Done! To my opinions you are welcome; the subject I shall select for myself. It is Shakespeare. (Loud cheers, and cries of "Bravo!") I am not, believe me, about to give you my own particular reading on this inexhaustible subject. I don't think the occasion suitable; and on such a subject I should wishnay, feel determined-- fit audience to find, though few.' But, sir, for what I am about to say, I have, and must have, a fit audience, however numerous. A monument is about to be raised in the chancel of Stratford church to the memory of William Shakespeare (a dead silence). I have seen, sir, a sort of prospectus on this subject, in which the Bard of Avon' is talked of. I hate the phrase. For the Avon itself I have the deepest respect --deep as the bed of its own bright course. To it I say, quoting the Wordsworthian 6 But to talk of Shakespeare as being the Bard of Avon is about as just as calling Homer the Bard of Scamander! Both poets are the bards of the boundless mind and heart of man; or, if we must in any degree constrain our compliment as regards our glorious Countryman, at all events let us call him what he would most gladly have called himself,--THE BARD OF ENGLAND. To such a bard the monument more durable than brass or marble is, indeed, already raised in the national heart. But that, gentlemen, is the poet's own and personal act. Ours remains to be performed. Shall it be done! (Shouts of Yes!") Then, if to be done, it were well it were done quickly. (Vehement cheering.) My object is accomplished by that heartstartling cheer. It only remains for me, gentlemen, to point out the meanness of the prospectus people. They say that Garrick, Henderson, and Kemble were the principal disseminators of Shakespeare's fame! Oh Heaven! The disseminators of SHAKESPEARE'S fame! I recommend such boobies to read Charles Lamb's remarks on this question of dramatic poets and dramatic performers. But observe, in their enumeration of actors, they omit Kean. Now all of my bearers who have read the article in the Quarterly on the Life of Kean' know very well that I do not stand here the apologist of that person's errors. But, surely, I may be permitted to express wonder that any set of men, whose peculiar mental construction could lead them to consider Shakespeare as a poet depending on actors for his dissemination, should have forgotten the contemporaneous fact that, of all actors in the memory of any man whose subscription to this monument can be called for, Kean has been the great embodier of Shakespeare. I need not enumerate the scenic triumphs of the Roscius. (Loud cries of Hear!) His Shylock, his Richard, his Othello, and last, but greatest, his HAMLET (I know the six-feet critics contend that he did not look this last character),-- are they not all impressed on our recollection with the indelible stamp of nature? And this man is omitted in the list of Shakesperian 'disseminators! Never mindI say nothing. Subscribe and prosper I propose, The glorious and immortal memory of William Shakespeare!"" (Solemn joy in all parts of the room.) ! As nobody thought of rising after Lockhart, we felt it our duty to dissolve the sederunt with full ceremonial. We therefore ordered a round of tumblers; and that we might duly hallow the departure, we suggested the propriety of a song from all quarters. "What is the subject," was asked by many voices, simultaneously rushing on our ears. "If you are charged," said we, assuming the gravity which is worthy of such occasions, " we shall give the subject and a toast at once." Charged!" said the universal company, in a tone indicative of the utmost sincerity" all are charged." "here is, 66 Here, then," said we, or are for we shall not quarrel on grammatical trifles —— "OUR NOBLE SELVES!" Having drank it, on that hint we sang. Who composed each verse we, at this distance of time, writing as we do the morning after, have no means of ascertaining. Here's to thee of the Quarterly! Thou who such a noble cock art; At him I'd laugh who would not quaff A bowl of punch to J. G. Lockhart. Or else to him, the soul of whim, The best who ever drew a corkOf all the men that hold a pen, The mildest divine NOLL YORKE. man, The perfumed flower in sunny hour, That does in yellow state adorn wall, Is not so sweet as he, the neat, The smart, the tidy Barry Cornwall. If toasts go round, and thoughts abound Of tender sentiment, I beg You'll spend a qua'tern on the suba'tern, The reverend warrior, G. R. Gleig. With bumper full we hail John Bull, - Would that we might his praises book; But who will dare, when he is there, To improvvise before T. Hook! I find our lay will last till day; I know not why, whene'er I try To find a rhyme for fools or sots, My ready muse can scarcely choose To look beyond Alaric Watts. But if you wish to serve a dish All cooked in right high German style, I have no doubt the best sour crout You'll find hashed up by Tom Carlyle. A higher strain, a loftier brain, Who upon Milton looking ne'er awed, Here every man put his hands into his neighbour's pocket; and, crossing legs, they, to their mutual inconvenience, played the game of Hookey Walker; and the reporters, disgusted with themselves, dropped their pens. as the French Great " sensation,' prettysay, was manifested by the " isms," literary and personal, surrounding the ladies' table. You might instantly have heard a " pin drop," as is originally enough remarked by Barry The fair Cornwall, in Mirandola. claimants having thus secured a hearing, then accomplished the following intercomplimentary canticle,--the chorus being joined in con amore by every gentleman present. Chorus. To Maids, Wives, and Mothers! O, gentlemen and ladies I wish in a pressing tone "YORKE and Boys!-without exception, you are the queerest lads ever generated out of the beautiful city called Cork. Well-let all that be buried in immemorial oblivion. Living heroes of the world of letters, listen! Immortal as are your lustrous and illustrious souls, you can't live here on earth for ever. No clay could ever stand the steadfast fires of your ardent minds for more than a hundred years. Down your tenements must inevitably fall; for the sustaining life within them, now glowing like a candle in a "grotto" of oyster-shells, must soar to creased sensation)-supposing (but I won't repeat) that you, gentlemen, were each of you 'one of us,' the dirge which I should submit, not to you, but to your adversaries, would run as follows: Dirge. "Now Dullmen all be merry O! While the Fraser-Boys they bury O! To curse their grave I'll chaunt a stave, So give your hearts to glee, for once, In proud cascade, Shall rival barley-bree, for once! Sing riggledum, diggledum, razor O! And to sky-cock'd ears We'll bray proud cheers 'Gainst the Lions who roared in Fraser 0! Don't Dullmen be too merry O! In a glorious grave Will be deaf to your derry, derry, O! So rather plunge in grief each dunce, Shedding iron tears' that brief, for once, Has been the reign Of blood and brain, That gave the world relief, for once! Sing riggledum, diggledum, razor O ! There'll be tears in the eyes of each gazer O! As they follow the hearse Of deep Prose and Verse, Which we feel will be buried with Fraser O!" This solemn psalm caused the blushes of the ladies to be transferred to the cheeks of the gentlemen; and "smoothing the raven down of darkness till it smiled," the bright Aurora bowed her sable rival out of "cloud-land, gorgeous land!" and "Honour to Woman!" once again sung, the ladies withdrew, to give a beautiful embodiment of the Byronian image,- "The slumbers of each folded flower." And as for the men, having shaken hands (if hand-shaking it can be called) with the ghosts Evanishing amid the storm," they--the men, not the ghosts--took care of themselves, as true Fraserians always can and do. ། |