Now Veeshnoo turn’d round to a capering varlet, Array’d in blue and white and scarlet, And cried, “Oh! brown of slipper as of hat! Lend me, Harlequin, thy bat!” He seized the wooden sword, and smote the earth; When lo! upstarting into birth A fabric, gorgeous to behold, Outshone in elegance the old, And Veeshnoo saw, and cried, “Hail, playhouse mine!” Then, bending his head, to Surya he said, “Soon as thy maiden sister Di Caps with her copper lid the dark blue sky, And through the fissures of her clouded fan Peeps at the naughty monster man. Go mount yon edifice, And show thy steady face In renovated pride, More bright, more glorious than before!” But ah! coy Surya still felt a twinge, Still smarted from his former singe; And to Veeshnoo replied, In a tone rather gruff, “No, thank you! one tumble’s enough!” VIII. DRURY’S DIRGE. {38a} BY LAURA MATILDA. {38b} “You praise our sires; but though they wrote with force, Their rhymes were vicious, and their diction coarse: We want their _strength_, agreed; but we atone For that, and more, by _sweetness_ all our own.”—GIFFORD. I. BALMY Zephyrs, lightly flitting, Shade me with your azure wing; On Parnassus’ summit sitting, Aid me, Clio, while I sing. II. Softly slept the dome of Drury O’er the empyreal crest, When Alecto’s sister-fury Softly slumb’ring sunk to rest. III. Lo! from Lemnos limping lamely, Lags the lowly Lord of Fire, Cytherea yielding tamely To the Cyclops dark and dire. IV. Clouds of amber, dreams of gladness, Dulcet joys and sports of youth, Soon must yield to haughty sadness; Mercy holds the veil to Truth. V. See Erostratus the second Fires again Diana’s fane; By the Fates from Orcus beckon’d, Clouds envelope Drury Lane. VI. Lurid smoke and frank suspicion Hand in hand reluctant dance: While the God fulfils his mission, Chivalry, resign thy lance. VII. Hark! the engines blandly thunder, Fleecy clouds dishevell’d lie, And the firemen, mute with wonder, On the son of Saturn cry. VIII. See the bird of Ammon sailing, Perches on the engine’s peak, And, the Eagle firemen hailing, Soothes them with its bickering beak. IX. Juno saw, and mad with malice, Lost the prize that Paris gave: Jealousy’s ensanguined chalice Mantling pours the orient wave.