The Works of Lord Byron Volume VI Part 117

LXXII.

Still there was something wanting, as I've said-- That undefinable "_Je ne scais quoi_"

Which, for what I know, may of yore have led To Homer's Iliad, since it drew to Troy The Greek Eve, Helen, from the Spartan's bed; Though on the whole, no doubt, the Dardan boy Was much inferior to King Menelaus:-- But thus it is some women will betray us.

LXXIII.

There is an awkward thing which much perplexes, Unless like wise Tiresias[719] we had proved By turns the difference of the several s.e.xes; Neither can show quite _how_ they would be loved.

The Sensual for a short time but connects us-- The Sentimental boasts to be unmoved; But both together form a kind of Centaur, Upon whose back 't is better not to venture.

LXXIV.

A something all-sufficient for the _heart_ Is that for which the s.e.x are always seeking: But how to fill up that same vacant part?

There lies the rub--and this they are but weak in.

Frail mariners afloat without a chart, They run before the wind through high seas breaking; And when they have made the sh.o.r.e through every shock, 'T is odd--or odds--it may turn out a rock.

LXXV.

There is a flower called "Love in Idleness,"[720]

For which see Shakespeare's ever-blooming garden;-- I will not make his great description less, And beg his British G.o.dship's humble pardon, If, in my extremity of rhyme's distress, I touch a single leaf where he is warden;-- But, though the flower is different, with the French Or Swiss Rousseau--cry _"Voila la Pervenche.'"_[721]

LXXVI.

Eureka! I have found it! What I mean To say is, not that Love is Idleness, But that in Love such idleness has been An accessory, as I have cause to guess.

Hard Labour's an indifferent go-between; Your men of business are not apt to express Much pa.s.sion, since the merchant-ship, the Argo, Conveyed Medea as her supercargo.

LXXVII.

_"Beatus ille procul!_" from "_negotiis,_"[722]

Saith Horace; the great little poet's wrong; His other maxim, _"Noscitur a sociis,"_[723]

Is much more to the purpose of his song; Though even that were sometimes too ferocious, Unless good company be kept too long; But, in his teeth, whate'er their state or station, Thrice happy they who _have_ an occupation!

LXXVIII.

Adam exchanged his Paradise for ploughing, Eve made up millinery with fig leaves-- The earliest knowledge from the Tree so knowing, As far as I know, that the Church receives: And since that time it need not cost much showing, That many of the ills o'er which Man grieves, And still more Women, spring from not employing Some hours to make the remnant worth enjoying.

LXXIX.

And hence high life is oft a dreary void, A rack of pleasures, where we must invent A something wherewithal to be annoyed.

Bards may sing what they please about _Content_; _Contented_, when translated, means but cloyed; And hence arise the woes of Sentiment, Blue-devils--and Blue-stockings--and Romances Reduced to practice, and performed like dances.

Lx.x.x.

I do declare, upon an affidavit, Romances I ne'er read like those I have seen; Nor, if unto the World I ever gave it, Would some believe that such a tale had been: But such intent I never had, nor have it; Some truths are better kept behind a screen, Especially when they would look like lies; I therefore deal in generalities.[nb]

Lx.x.xI.

"An oyster may be crossed in love"[724]--and why?

Because he mopeth idly in his sh.e.l.l, And heaves a lonely subterraqueous sigh, Much as a monk may do within his cell: And _a-propos_ of monks, their Piety With Sloth hath found it difficult to dwell: Those vegetables of the Catholic creed Are apt exceedingly to run to seed.

Lx.x.xII.

O Wilberforce! thou man of black renown, Whose merit none enough can sing or say, Thou hast struck one immense Colossus down, Thou moral Washington of Africa!

But there's another little thing, I own, Which you should perpetrate some summer's day, And set the other half of Earth to rights; You have freed the _blacks_--now pray shut up the whites.

Lx.x.xIII.

Shut up the bald-coot[725] bully Alexander!

Ship off the Holy Three to Senegal; Teach them that "sauce for goose is sauce for gander,"

And ask them how _they_ like to be in thrall?

Shut up each high heroic Salamander, Who eats fire gratis (since the pay's but small); Shut up--no, _not_ the King, but the Pavilion,[726]

Or else 't will cost us all another million.

Lx.x.xIV.

Shut up the World at large, let Bedlam out; And you will be perhaps surprised to find All things pursue exactly the same route, As now with those of _soi-disant_ sound mind.

This I could prove beyond a single doubt, Were there a jot of sense among Mankind; But till that _point d'appui_ is found, alas!

Like Archimedes, I leave Earth as 't was.

Lx.x.xV.

Our gentle Adeline had one defect-- Her heart was vacant, though a splendid mansion; Her conduct had been perfectly correct, As she had seen nought claiming its expansion.

A wavering spirit may be easier wrecked, Because 't is frailer, doubtless, than a staunch one; But when the latter works its own undoing, Its inner crash is like an Earthquake's ruin.

Lx.x.xVI.

She loved her Lord, or thought so; but _that_ love Cost her an effort, which is a sad toil, The stone of Sisyphus, if once we move Our feelings 'gainst the nature of the soil.

She had nothing to complain of, or reprove, No bickerings, no connubial turmoil: Their union was a model to behold, Serene and n.o.ble,--conjugal, but cold.

Lx.x.xVII.

There was no great disparity of years, Though much in temper; but they never clashed: They moved like stars united in their spheres, Or like the Rhone by Leman's waters washed, Where mingled and yet separate appears The River from the Lake, all bluely dashed Through the serene and placid gla.s.sy deep, Which fain would lull its river-child to sleep.[727]

Lx.x.xVIII.

Now when she once had ta'en an interest In anything, however she might flatter Herself that her intentions were the best, Intense intentions are a dangerous matter: Impressions were much stronger than she guessed, And gathered as they run like growing water Upon her mind; the more so, as her breast Was not at first too readily impressed.

Lx.x.xIX.

But when it was, she had that lurking Demon Of double nature, and thus doubly named-- Firmness yclept in Heroes, Kings, and seamen, That is, when they succeed; but greatly blamed As _Obstinacy_, both in Men and Women, Whene'er their triumph pales, or star is tamed:-- And 't will perplex the casuist in morality To fix the due bounds of this dangerous quality.

XC.

Had Buonaparte won at Waterloo, It had been firmness; now 't is pertinacity: Must the event decide between the two?

I leave it to your people of sagacity To draw the line between the false and true, If such can e'er be drawn by Man's capacity: My business is with Lady Adeline, Who in her way too was a heroine.

XCI.

She knew not her own heart; then how should I?

I think not she was _then_ in love with Juan: If so, she would have had the strength to fly The wild sensation, unto her a new one: She merely felt a common sympathy (I will not say it was a false or true one) In him, because she thought he was in danger,-- Her husband's friend--her own--young--and a stranger.