The Works of Lord Byron Volume VI Part 107

'T is true, I might have chosen Piccadilly,[663]

A place where peccadillos are unknown; But I have motives, whether wise or silly, For letting that pure sanctuary alone.

Therefore I name not square, street, place, until I Find one where nothing naughty can be shown, A vestal shrine of Innocence of Heart: Such are--but I have lost the London Chart.

XXVIII.

At Henry's mansion then, in Blank-Blank Square, Was Juan a _recherche_, welcome guest, As many other n.o.ble scions were; And some who had but Talent for their crest; Or Wealth, which is a pa.s.sport everywhere; Or even mere Fashion, which indeed's the best Recommendation; and to be well dressed Will very often supersede the rest.

XXIX.

And since "there's safety in a mult.i.tude Of counsellors," as Solomon has said, Or some one for him, in some sage, grave mood;-- Indeed we see the daily proof displayed In Senates, at the Bar, in wordy feud, Where'er collective wisdom can parade, Which is the only cause that we can guess Of Britain's present wealth and happiness;--

x.x.x.

But as "there's safety" grafted in the number "Of counsellors," for men,--thus for the s.e.x A large acquaintance lets not Virtue slumber; Or should it shake, the choice will more perplex-- Variety itself will more enc.u.mber.[ly]

'Midst many rocks we guard more against wrecks-- And thus with women: howsoe'er it shocks some's Self-love, there's safety in a crowd of c.o.xcombs.

x.x.xI.

But Adeline had not the least occasion For such a shield, which leaves but little merit To Virtue proper, or good education.

Her chief resource was in her own high spirit, Which judged Mankind at their due estimation; And for coquetry, she disdained to wear it-- Secure of admiration: its impression Was faint--as of an every-day possession.

x.x.xII.

To all she was polite without parade; To some she showed attention of that kind Which flatters, but is flattery conveyed In such a sort as cannot leave behind A trace unworthy either wife or maid;-- A gentle, genial courtesy of mind,[lz]

To those who were, or pa.s.sed for meritorious, Just to console sad Glory for being glorious;

x.x.xIII.

Which is in all respects, save now and then, A dull and desolate appendage. Gaze Upon the shades of those distinguished men Who were or are the puppet-shows of praise, The praise of persecution. Gaze again On the most favoured; and amidst the blaze Of sunset halos o'er the laurel-browed, What can ye recognise?--a gilded cloud.

x.x.xIV.

There also was of course in Adeline That calm patrician polish in the address, Which ne'er can pa.s.s the equinoctial line Of anything which Nature would express; Just as a Mandarin finds nothing fine,-- At least his manner suffers not to guess, That anything he views can greatly please: Perhaps we have borrowed this from the Chinese--[ma]

x.x.xV.

Perhaps from Horace: his _"Nil admirari"_ Was what he called the "Art of Happiness"-- An art on which the artists greatly vary, And have not yet attained to much success.

However, 't is expedient to be wary: Indifference, certes, don't produce distress; And rash Enthusiasm in good society Were nothing but a moral inebriety.

x.x.xVI.

But Adeline was not indifferent: for (_Now_ for a common-place!) beneath the snow, As a Volcano holds the lava more Within--_et caetera_. Shall I go on?--No!

I hate to hunt down a tired metaphor, So let the often-used Volcano go.

Poor thing! How frequently, by me and others, It hath been stirred up till its smoke quite smothers!

x.x.xVII.

I'll have another figure in a trice:-- What say you to a bottle of champagne?

Frozen into a very vinous ice, Which leaves few drops of that immortal rain, Yet in the very centre, past all price, About a liquid gla.s.sful will remain; And this is stronger than the strongest grape Could e'er express in its expanded shape:

x.x.xVIII.

'T is the whole spirit brought to a quintessence; And thus the chilliest aspects may concentre A hidden nectar under a cold presence.[mb]

And such are many--though I only meant her From whom I now deduce these moral lessons, On which the Muse has always sought to enter.

And your cold people are beyond all price, When once you've broken their confounded ice.

x.x.xIX.

But after all they are a North-West Pa.s.sage Unto the glowing India of the soul; And as the good ships sent upon that message Have not exactly ascertained the Pole (Though Parry's efforts look a lucky presage),[mc]

Thus gentlemen may run upon a shoal; For if the Pole's not open, but all frost (A chance still), 't is a voyage or vessel lost.

XL.

And young beginners may as well commence With quiet cruising o'er the ocean, Woman; While those who are not beginners should have sense Enough to make for port, ere Time shall summon With his grey signal-flag; and the past tense, The dreary _Fuimus_ of all things human, Must be declined, while Life's thin thread's spun out Between the gaping heir and gnawing gout.

XLI.

But Heaven must be diverted; its diversion Is sometimes truculent--but never mind: The World upon the whole is worth the a.s.sertion (If but for comfort) that all things are kind: And that same devilish doctrine of the Persian,[664]

Of the "Two Principles," but leaves behind As many doubts as any other doctrine Has ever puzzled Faith withal, or yoked her in,

XLII.

The English winter--ending in July, To recommence in August--now was done.

'T is the postilion's paradise: wheels fly; On roads, East, South, North, West, there is a run.

But for post-horses who finds sympathy?

Man's pity's for himself, or for his son, Always premising that said son at college Has not contracted much more debt than knowledge.

XLIII.

The London winter's ended in July-- Sometimes a little later. I don't err In this: whatever other blunders lie Upon my shoulders, here I must aver My Muse a gla.s.s of _Weatherology_; For Parliament is our barometer: Let Radicals its other acts attack, Its sessions form our only almanack.

XLIV.

When its quicksilver's down at zero,--lo!

Coach, chariot, luggage, baggage, equipage!

Wheels whirl from Carlton Palace to Soho, And happiest they who horses can engage; The turnpikes glow with dust; and Rotten Row Sleeps from the chivalry of this bright age; And tradesmen, with long bills and longer faces, Sigh--as the postboys fasten on the traces.

XLV.

They and their bills, "Arcadians both,"[665] are left To the Greek Kalends of another session.

Alas! to them of ready cash bereft, What hope remains? Of _hope_ the full possession, Or generous draft, conceded as a gift, At a long date--till they can get a fresh one-- Hawked about at a discount, small or large; Also the solace of an overcharge.

XLVI.

But these are trifles. Downward flies my Lord, Nodding beside my Lady in his carriage.

Away! away! "Fresh horses!" are the word, And changed as quickly as hearts after marriage; The obsequious landlord hath the change restored; The postboys have no reason to disparage Their fee; but ere the watered wheels may hiss hence, The ostler pleads too for a reminiscence.

XLVII.