Do not haste on fast and faster! Render, as becomes inferiors, Due respect to your superiors And the worthy burgomaster. 16. THE CHANGELING. A child with monstrous pumpkin head, Grey pigtail, and moustache light red, With lanky arms and yet stupendous, No bowels, yet with maw tremendous,-- A changeling which a Corporal Into our cradle had let fall On stealing from it our own baby-- This monster, falsehood’s child, (or may be ’Twas in reality the son Of his own favourite dog alone)-- What need to say how much we spurn it? For heaven’s sake, drown it or else burn it! 17. THE EMPEROR OF CHINA.[18] My father was a dreadful bore, A good-for-nothing dandy; But I’m a mighty Emperor, And love a bumper of brandy. These glorious draughts all others surpass In this, their magical power: As soon as I have drain’d my glass, All China bursts into flower. The Middle Kingdom bursts into life, A blossoming meadow seeming; A man I wellnigh become, and my wife Soon gives me signs of teeming. On every side abundance reigns, The sick no longer need potions; Confucius, Court-philosopher, gains Distinct and positive notions. The ryebread the soldiers used to eat Of almond cakes is made now; The very vagabonds in the street In silk and satin parade now. The knightly Order of Mandarins, Those weak old invalids, daily Are gaining strength and filling their skins, And shaking their pigtails gaily. The great pagoda, faith’s symbol prized, Is ready for those who’re believing; The last of the Jews are here baptized, The Dragon’s order receiving. The noble Manchoos exclaim, when freed From the presence of revolution: “The bastinado is all that we need, “We want no constitution!” The pupils of Æsculapius perhaps May tell me that drink’s dissipation; But I continue to drink my Schnaps, To benefit the nation. And so in drinking I persevere; It tastes like very manna! My people are happy, and drink their beer And join in shouting Hosanna! 18. CHURCH-COUNSELLOR PROMETHEUS. Good Sir Paulus,[19] noble robber, All the gods are on thee gazing With their brows in anger knitted, Furious at the theft amazing Thou hast practised in Olympus— Sorry for it they will make thee! Fear the fate of poor Prometheus If Jove’s bailiffs overtake thee! Worse indeed his theft, because he Stole the light in heaven dwelling To enlighten us weak mortals— _Thou_ didst steal the works of Schelling, Just the opposite of light,—nay, Darkness we can feel and handle Like the old Egyptian darkness,— Not one solitary candle! 19. TO THE WATCHMAN. (On a recent occasion.)