[32] beckoning] proffered Sd. 1827.

[34] Milner] ---- 1834, 1852: Butler 1893. boasts] lauds Sd. 1827.

[35] repeat] reply Sd. 1827.

[38] or] and Sd. 1827.

[39] Milner's] ----'s 1834, 1852: Butler's 1893.

[42] Irish] the O'Gorman MS. S. T. C., Sd. 1827.

[46] blood and soot] soot and blood Sd. 1827.

[55] lights] sights Sd. 1827.

SONG[450:2]

Though veiled in spires of myrtle-wreath, Love is a sword which cuts its sheath, And through the clefts itself has made, We spy the flashes of the blade!

But through the clefts itself has made 5 We likewise see Love's flashing blade, By rust consumed, or snapt in twain; And only hilt and stump remain.

? 1825.

FOOTNOTES:

[450:2] First published in 1828: included in 1852, 1885, and 1893. A MS.

version (undated) is inscribed in a notebook.

LINENOTES:

t.i.tle] Love, a Sword 1893.

[1] Tho' hid in spiral myrtle wreath MS.

[2] which] that MS.

[3] slits itself hath made MS.

[4] flashes] glitter MS.

[5] clefts] slits MS.

[6-8]

We spy no less, too, that the Blade, Is cut away or snapt atwain And nought but Hilt or Stump remain.

MS.

A CHARACTER[451:1]

A bird, who for his other sins Had liv'd amongst the Jacobins; Though like a kitten amid rats, Or callow t.i.t in nest of bats, He much abhorr'd all democrats; 5 Yet nathless stood in ill report Of wishing ill to Church and Court, Tho' he'd nor claw, nor tooth, nor sting, And learnt to pipe G.o.d save the King; Tho' each day did new feathers bring, 10 All swore he had a leathern wing; Nor polish'd wing, nor feather'd tail, Nor down-clad thigh would aught avail; And tho'--his tongue devoid of gall-- He civilly a.s.sur'd them all:-- 15 'A bird am I of Phoebus' breed, And on the sunflower cling and feed; My name, good Sirs, is Thomas t.i.t!'

The bats would hail him Brother Cit, Or, at the furthest, cousin-german. 20 At length the matter to determine, He publicly denounced the vermin; He spared the mouse, he praised the owl; But bats were neither flesh nor fowl.

Blood-sucker, vampire, harpy, goul, 25 Came in full clatter from his throat, Till his old nest-mates chang'd their note To hireling, traitor, and turncoat,-- A base apostate who had sold His very teeth and claws for gold;-- 30 And then his feathers!--sharp the jest-- No doubt he feather'd well his nest!

'A t.i.t indeed! aye, t.i.t for tat-- With place and t.i.tle, brother Bat, We soon shall see how well he'll play 35 Count Goldfinch, or Sir Joseph Jay!'

Alas, poor Bird! and ill-bestarr'd-- Or rather let us say, poor Bard!

And henceforth quit the allegoric, With metaphor and simile, 40 For simple facts and style historic:-- Alas, poor Bard! no gold had he; Behind another's team he stept, And plough'd and sow'd, while others reapt; The work was his, but theirs the glory, 45 _Sic vos non vobis_, his whole story.

Besides, whate'er he wrote or said Came from his heart as well as head; And though he never left in lurch His king, his country, or his church, 50 'Twas but to humour his own cynical Contempt of doctrines Jacobinical; To his own conscience only hearty, 'Twas but by chance he serv'd the party;-- The self-same things had said and writ, 55 Had Pitt been Fox, and Fox been Pitt; Content his own applause to win, Would never dash thro' thick and thin, And he can make, so say the wise, No claim who makes no sacrifice;-- 60 And bard still less:--what claim had he, Who swore it vex'd his soul to see So grand a cause, so proud a realm, With Goose and Goody at the helm; Who long ago had fall'n asunder 65 But for their rivals' baser blunder, The coward whine and Frenchified Slaver and slang of the other side?--

Thus, his own whim his only bribe, Our Bard pursued his old A. B. C. 70 Contented if he could subscribe In fullest sense his name ?st?se; ('Tis Punic Greek for 'he hath stood!') Whate'er the men, the cause was good; And therefore with a right good will, 75 Poor fool, he fights their battles still.

Tush! squeak'd the Bats;--a mere bravado To whitewash that base renegado; 'Tis plain unless you're blind or mad, His conscience for the bays he barters;-- 80 And true it is--as true as sad-- These circlets of green baize he had-- But then, alas! they were his garters!

Ah! silly Bard, unfed, untended, His lamp but glimmer'd in its socket; 85 He lived unhonour'd and unfriended With scarce a penny in his pocket;-- Nay--tho' he hid it from the many-- With scarce a pocket for his penny!

1825.

FOOTNOTES:

[451:1] First published in 1834. It is probable that the immediate provocation of these lines was the publication of Hazlitt's character-sketch of Coleridge in _The Spirit of the Age_, 1825, pp.

57-75. Lines 1-7, 49, 50, 84, 89 are quoted by J. Payne Collier (_An Old Man's Diary_, Oct. 20, 1833, Pt. IV, p. 56) from a MS. presented by Charles Lamb to Martin Burney. A fragmentary MS. with the lines in different order is in the British Museum.

LINENOTES:

t.i.tle] A Trifle MS. J. P. C.

[1] for] 'mongst MS. B. M.

[2] amongst] among J. P. C.

[3] amid] among J. P. C.

[5] all] the J. P. C.

[6] ill] bad J. P. C.

[7] Of ill to Church as well as Court J. P. C.

[11] had a] had but a MS. B. M.