The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 20, No. 557, July 14, 1832 — John Shaqi
The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 20, No. 557, July 14, 1832Various
General
The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 20, No. 557, July 14, 1832
Various
Popular literature -- Great Britain -- Periodicals
Milton himself thy path has walked along,
That noble, bold, and glorious politician,
That mighty prince of everlasting song!
That bard of heaven, earth, chaos, and perdition!
Poor hapless Spenser, too, that sweet musician
Of faery land,
Has crossed thee, mourning o'er his sad condition,
And leaning upon sorrow's outstretched hand.
Oft, haply, has great Newton o'er thee stalked
So much entranced,
He knew not haply if he ran or walked,
Hopped, waddled, leaped, or danced.
Along thee, too, Johnson has sideways staggered,
With the old wolf inside of him unfed;
And Savage roamed, with visage lean and haggard,
Longing for bread.
And next in note,
Dear worthy Goldsmith with his gaudy coat,
Unheeded by the undiscerning folks;
There Garrick too has sped,
And, light of heart, he cracked his playful jokes--
Yet though he walked, on Foote he cracked them not;
And Steele, and Fielding, Butler, Swift, and Pope--
Who filled the world with laughter, joy, and hope;
And thousands, that throw sunshine on our lot,
And, though they die, can never be forgot.
These comets of their day
Have passed away,
Their dust is now to kindred dust consigned;
Down at death's knees e'en they were forced to bow,
Yet each has left an honour'd name behind--
And so, old bridge, hast thou;
Thou hast outlasted many a generation;
And well nigh to the last looked well and hearty;
Thou hast seen much of civil perturbation,
And hast supported many a different party.
Yet think not I deride:
Many great characters of modern days,
(The worthy vicars of convenient Brays)
Have thought it no disgrace to change their side.
And yet now many a luckless boat,
How many a thoughtless, many a jovial crew,
How many a young apprentice of no note;
How many a maiden fair and lover true--
Have passed down thy Charybdis of a throat,
And gone, Oh! dreadful Davy Jones, to you!
The coroner for Southwark, or the City,
Calling a jury with due form and fuss,
To find a verdict, amidst signs of pity,
In phrase poetic--thus:--
"Found
Drown'd!"
_Monthly Magazine_.
* * * * *
TRUE STORIES OF MAGIC IN THE EAST.
_By Charles Macfarlane, Esq_.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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