Short Poems

ON SOME BAD Verses IN S APPHO'S P RAISE .

I F these are Sappho's Laureat Bards
(Theme of the Heaven-born Poet's lyre)
The next eloge will praise her cards ,
Or speak with rapture of the fire ,
But leaving to be sung by me
The toast , the muffins , and the tea .

No more! — to bed! — and close your eyes!
To-morrow — when I call you — rise!

Pluto wanted a Fury to match his own Three;
And sent off an express, Hecatissa , for thee.

T HE point " if John is damn'd or blest, "
Shall never discompose my rest;
That it 's not worth a moment's thought;
By his indiff'rence we are taught.

Here an amorous old Miss lies alone , but unwilling:
In the rent of a Tenant she found a bad shilling;
So, as Love ready-made and the taxes were high,
She resolv'd in the balance of credits to die.

EPITAPH ON A VERY HANDSOME, BUT VAIN, UNINTERESTING, AND SELFISH Woman .

H ERE lies a figure exquisitely made:
Clos'd are the eyes that shone with bright parade: —
The Loves had finish'd each exterior part,
But Grace and Beauty overlook'd the Heart .

Here I bid you all adieu,
I no more am one of you;
Ideots that are left above,
Dupes to Fortune or to Love!

A T home the Pilgrim never yet could stay,
But pass'd his time upon the King's highway:
His Arab's tent and fugitive abode
Are emblems of the tour when life 's the road.

D ON'T believe the dull fiction — that Emma lies here;
She has risen from Earth on the wings of a Dove.
In the Angel we saw till her twentieth year,
Not a beauty is lost by the Angel above.

WHICH A DYING LOVER DIRECTED HIS FRIENDS TO FILL WITH HIS
ASHES PULVERIZED .

M ARK the pure crystal that contains
All that of Strephon's love remains;
Dust — in whose emblem is express'd
That Love must never hope to rest.