Memoirs of Mr. Charles J. Yellowplush [73]
and, O Barnet, if you KNEW what a relief it was!)--there, I say, was Sherridn--he WAS a politticle character, if you please--he COULD make a spitch or two--do you spose that Pitt, Purseyvall, Castlerag, old George the Third himself, wooden go to see the "Rivles"--ay, and clap hands too, and laff and ror, for all Sherry's Wiggery? Do you spose the critix wouldn't applaud too? For shame, Barnet! what ninnis, what hartless raskles, you must beleave them to be,--in the fust plase, to fancy that you are a politticle genus; in the secknd, to let your politix interfear with their notiums about littery merits! "Put that nonsince out of your head," as Fox said to Bonypart. Wasn't it that great genus, Dennis, that wrote in Swiff and Poop's time, who fansid that the French king wooden make pease unless Dennis was delivered up to him? Upon my wud, I doan't think he carrid his diddlusion much further than a serting honrabble barnet of my aquentance. And then for the nex age. Respected sir, this is another diddlusion; a gross misteak on your part, or my name is not Y--sh. These plays immortial? Ah, parrysampe, as the French say, this is too strong--the small-beer of the "Sea Capting," or of any suxessor of the "Sea Capting," to keep sweet for sentries and sentries! Barnet, Barnet! do you know the natur of bear? Six weeks is not past, and here your last casque is sour--the public won't even now drink it; and I lay a wager that, betwigst this day (the thuttieth November) and the end of the year, the barl will be off the stox altogether, never, never to return. I've notted down a few frazes here and there, which you will do well do igsamin:--
NORMAN. "The eternal Flora Woos to her odorous haunts the western wind; While circling round and upwards from the boughs, Golden with fruits that lure the joyous birds, Melody, like a happy soul released, Hangs in the air, and from invisible plumes Shakes sweetness down!"
NORMAN. "And these the lips Where, till this hour, the sad and holy kiss Of parting linger'd, as the fragrance left By ANGELS when they touch the earth and vanish."
NORMAN. "Hark! she has blessed her son! I bid ye witness, Ye listening heavens--thou circumambient air: The ocean sighs it back--and with the murmur Rustle the happy leaves. All nature breathes Aloud--aloft--to the Great Parent's ear, The blessing of the mother on her child."
NORMAN. "I dream of love, enduring faith, a heart Mingled with mine--a deathless heritage, Which I can take unsullied to the STARS, When the Great Father calls his children home."
NORMAN. "The blue air, breathless in the STARRY peace, After long silence hushed as heaven, but filled With happy thoughts as heaven with ANGELS."
NORMAN. "Till one calm night, when over earth and wave Heaven looked its love from all its numberless STARS."
NORMAN. "Those eyes, the guiding STARS by which I steered."
NORMAN. "That great mother (The only parent I have known), whose face Is bright with gazing ever on the STARS-- The mother-sea."
NORMAN. "My bark shall be our home; The STARS that light the ANGEL palaces Of air, our lamps."
NORMAN. "A name that glitters, like a STAR, amidst The galaxy of England's loftiest born."
LADY ARUNDEL. "And see him princeliest of the lion tribe, Whose swords and coronals gleam around the throne, The guardian STARS of the imperial isle."
The fust spissymen has been going the round of all the papers, as real, reglar poatry. Those wickid critix! they must have been laffing in their sleafs when they quoted it. Malody, suckling round and uppards from the bows, like a happy soul released, hangs in the air, and from invizable plumes shakes sweetness down. Mighty fine, truly! but let mortial man tell the meannink of the passidge. Is it MUSICKLE sweetniss that Malody shakes down from its plumes--its wings, that is, or tail--or some pekewliar scent that proceeds from
NORMAN. "The eternal Flora Woos to her odorous haunts the western wind; While circling round and upwards from the boughs, Golden with fruits that lure the joyous birds, Melody, like a happy soul released, Hangs in the air, and from invisible plumes Shakes sweetness down!"
NORMAN. "And these the lips Where, till this hour, the sad and holy kiss Of parting linger'd, as the fragrance left By ANGELS when they touch the earth and vanish."
NORMAN. "Hark! she has blessed her son! I bid ye witness, Ye listening heavens--thou circumambient air: The ocean sighs it back--and with the murmur Rustle the happy leaves. All nature breathes Aloud--aloft--to the Great Parent's ear, The blessing of the mother on her child."
NORMAN. "I dream of love, enduring faith, a heart Mingled with mine--a deathless heritage, Which I can take unsullied to the STARS, When the Great Father calls his children home."
NORMAN. "The blue air, breathless in the STARRY peace, After long silence hushed as heaven, but filled With happy thoughts as heaven with ANGELS."
NORMAN. "Till one calm night, when over earth and wave Heaven looked its love from all its numberless STARS."
NORMAN. "Those eyes, the guiding STARS by which I steered."
NORMAN. "That great mother (The only parent I have known), whose face Is bright with gazing ever on the STARS-- The mother-sea."
NORMAN. "My bark shall be our home; The STARS that light the ANGEL palaces Of air, our lamps."
NORMAN. "A name that glitters, like a STAR, amidst The galaxy of England's loftiest born."
LADY ARUNDEL. "And see him princeliest of the lion tribe, Whose swords and coronals gleam around the throne, The guardian STARS of the imperial isle."
The fust spissymen has been going the round of all the papers, as real, reglar poatry. Those wickid critix! they must have been laffing in their sleafs when they quoted it. Malody, suckling round and uppards from the bows, like a happy soul released, hangs in the air, and from invizable plumes shakes sweetness down. Mighty fine, truly! but let mortial man tell the meannink of the passidge. Is it MUSICKLE sweetniss that Malody shakes down from its plumes--its wings, that is, or tail--or some pekewliar scent that proceeds from