قراءة كتاب Peter Bell the Third
تنويه: تعرض هنا نبذة من اول ١٠ صفحات فقط من الكتاب الالكتروني، لقراءة الكتاب كاملا اضغط على الزر “اشتر الآن"
whensoever he should please, 420
He could speak of rocks and trees
In poetic metre.
11.
For though it was without a sense
Of memory, yet he remembered well
Many a ditch and quick-set fence; 425
Of lakes he had intelligence,
He knew something of heath and fell.
12.
He had also dim recollections
Of pedlars tramping on their rounds;
Milk-pans and pails; and odd collections 430
Of saws, and proverbs; and reflections
Old parsons make in burying-grounds.
13.
But Peter's verse was clear, and came
Announcing from the frozen hearth
Of a cold age, that none might tame 435
The soul of that diviner flame
It augured to the Earth:
14.
Like gentle rains, on the dry plains,
Making that green which late was gray,
Or like the sudden moon, that stains 440
Some gloomy chamber's window-panes
With a broad light like day.
15.
For language was in Peter's hand
Like clay while he was yet a potter;
And he made songs for all the land, 445
Sweet both to feel and understand,
As pipkins late to mountain Cotter.
16.
And Mr. —, the bookseller,
Gave twenty pounds for some;—then scorning
A footman's yellow coat to wear, 450
Peter, too proud of heart, I fear,
Instantly gave the Devil warning.
17.
Whereat the Devil took offence,
And swore in his soul a great oath then,
'That for his damned impertinence 455
He'd bring him to a proper sense
Of what was due to gentlemen!'
PART 6. DAMNATION.
'O that mine enemy had written
A book!'—cried Job:—a fearful curse,
If to the Arab, as the Briton, 460
'Twas galling to be critic-bitten:—
The Devil to Peter wished no worse.
2.
When Peter's next new book found vent,
The Devil to all the first Reviews
A copy of it slyly sent, 465
With five-pound note as compliment,
And this short notice—'Pray abuse.'
3.
Then seriatim, month and quarter,
Appeared such mad tirades.—One said—
'Peter seduced Mrs. Foy's daughter, 470
Then drowned the mother in Ullswater,
The last thing as he went to bed.'
4.
Another—'Let him shave his head!
Where's Dr. Willis?—Or is he joking?
What does the rascal mean or hope, 475
No longer imitating Pope,
In that barbarian Shakespeare poking?'
5.
One more, 'Is incest not enough?
And must there be adultery too?
Grace after meat? Miscreant and Liar! 480
Thief! Blackguard! Scoundrel! Fool! hell-fire
Is twenty times too good for you.
6.
'By that last book of yours WE think
You've double damned yourself to scorn;
We warned you whilst yet on the brink 485
You stood. From your black name will shrink
The babe that is unborn.'
7.
All these Reviews the Devil made
Up in a parcel, which he had
Safely to Peter's house conveyed. 490
For carriage, tenpence Peter paid—
Untied them—read them—went half mad.
8.
'What!' cried he, 'this is my reward
For nights of thought, and days, of toil?
Do poets, but to be abhorred 495
By men of whom they never heard,
Consume their spirits' oil?
9.
'What have I done to them?—and who
IS Mrs. Foy? 'Tis very cruel
To speak of me and Betty so! 500
Adultery! God defend me! Oh!
I've half a mind to fight a duel.
10.
'Or,' cried he, a grave look collecting,
'Is it my genius, like the moon,
Sets those who stand her face inspecting, 505
That face within their brain reflecting,
Like a crazed bell-chime, out of tune?'
11.
For Peter did not know the town,
But thought, as country readers do,
For half a guinea or a crown, 510
He bought oblivion or renown
From God's own voice in a review.
12.
All Peter did on this occasion
Was, writing some sad stuff in prose.
It is a dangerous invasion 515
When poets criticize; their station
Is to delight, not pose.
13.
The Devil then sent to Leipsic fair
For Born's translation of Kant's book;
A world of words, tail foremost, where 520
Right—wrong—false—true—and foul—and fair
As in a lottery-wheel are shook.
14.
Five thousand crammed octavo pages
Of German psychologics,—he
Who his furor verborum assuages 525
Thereon, deserves just seven months' wages
More than will e'er be due to me.
15.
I looked on them nine several days,
And then I saw that they were bad;
A friend, too, spoke in their dispraise,— 530
He never read them;—with amaze
I found Sir William Drummond had.
16.
When the book came, the Devil sent
It to P. Verbovale, Esquire,
With a brief note of compliment, 535
By that night's Carlisle mail. It went,
And set his soul on fire.
17.
Fire, which ex luce praebens fumum,
Made him beyond the bottom see
Of truth's clear well—when I and you, Ma'am, 540
Go, as we shall do, subter humum,
We may know more than he.
18.
Now Peter ran to seed in soul
Into a walking paradox;
For he was neither part nor whole, 545
Nor good, nor bad—nor knave nor fool;
—Among the woods and rocks
19.
Furious he rode, where late he ran,
Lashing and spurring his tame hobby;
Turned to a formal puritan, 550
A solemn and unsexual man,—
He half believed "White Obi".
20.
This steed in vision he would ride,
High trotting over nine-inch bridges,
With Flibbertigibbet, imp of pride, 555
Mocking and mowing by his side—
A mad-brained goblin for a guide—
Over corn-fields, gates, and hedges.
21.
After these ghastly rides, he came
Home to his heart, and found from thence 560
Much stolen of its accustomed flame;
His thoughts grew weak, drowsy, and lame
Of their intelligence.
22.
To Peter's view, all seemed one hue;
He was no Whig, he was no