Près de leurs passions rien ne me fut sacré;
De mesure et de poids je changeois à leur gré,
Autant que de Joad l'inflexible rudesse
De leur superbe oreille offensoit la mollesse;
Autant je les charmois par ma dextérité,
Dérobant à leur yeux la triste vérité,
Prêtant a leur fureur des couleurs favourables,
Et prodigue sur-tout du sang des misérables.[1]
. . . . . . .
Déserteur de leur loi, j'approvai l'entreprise,
Et par là de Baal méritai la pretrise;
Par là je me rendis terrible a mon rival,
Je ceignis la tiare, et marchai son égal.
Toutefois, je l'avoue, en ce comble de gloire,
De Dieu que j'ai quitté l'importune mémoire
Jette encore en mon ame un reste de terreur;
Et c'est ce qui redouble et nourrit ma fureur.
Heureux, si sur son temple achevant ma vengeance,
Je puis convaincre enfin sa haine d'impuissance,
Et parmi les débris, les ravages, et les morts,
A force d'attentats perdre tous mes remords.[2]
TO THE EDITOR OF THE EXAMINER.
Sir,—I hope you will not omit to notice two passages in Mr. Southey's poem, in which, to try his talent at natural de-
- ↑ "Carnage is her daughter."—Mr. Wordsworth's Thanksgiving Ode.
- ↑ This article falls somewhat short of its original destination, by our having been forced to omit two topics, the praise of Bonaparte, and the abuse of poetry. The former we leave to history: the latter we have been induced to omit from our regard to two poets of our acquaintance. We must say they have spoiled sport. One of them has tropical blood in his veins, which gives a gay, cordial, vinous spirit to his whole character. The other is a mad wag,—who ought to have lived at the Court of Horwendillus, with Yorick and Hamlet,—equally desperate in his mirth and his gravity, who would laugh at a funeral and weep at a wedding, who talks nonsense to prevent the head-ache, who would wag his flutter at a skeleton, whose jests scald like tears, who makes a joke of a great man, and a hero of a cat's paw. The last is more than Mr. Garrard or Mr. Turnerelli—can do. The busts which these gentlemen have made of a celebrated General are very bad. His head is worth nothing unless it is put on his men's shoulders.
