A Century of Parody and Imitation

by Unknown

THE LOVES OF THE TRIANGLES.

A Mathematical and Philosophical Poem.

(ERASMUS DARWIN)

Stay your rude steps, or e'er your feet invade

The Muses' haunts, ye sons of War and Trade!

Nor you, ye legion fiends of Church and Law,

Pollute these pages with unhallow'd paw![62]

Debased, corrupted, grovelling, and confin'd,

No Definitions touch your senseless mind;

To you no Postulates prefer their claim,

No ardent Axioms your dull souls inflame;

For you no Tangents touch, no Angles meet,

No Circles join in osculation[63] sweet!

For me, ye Cissoids,[64] round my temples bend

Your wandering curves; ye Conchoids extend;

Let playful Pendules quick vibration feel,

While silent Cyclois rests upon her wheel;

Let Hydrostatics,[65] simpering as they go,

Lead the light Naiads on fantastic toe;

Let shrill Acoustics tune the tiny lyre;

With Euclid sage fair Algebra conspire;

The obedient pulley strong Mechanics ply,

And wanton Optics roll the melting eye!

I see the fair fantastic forms appear,

The flaunting drapery and the languid leer;

Fair sylphish forms[66]—who, tall, erect, and slim,

Dart the keen glance, and stretch the length of limb;

To viewless harpings weave the meanless dance,

Wave the gay wreath, and titter as they prance.

Such rich confusion[67] charms the ravish'd sight,

When vernal Sabbaths to the Park invite.

Mounts the thick dust, the coaches crowd along,

Presses round Grosvenor Gate th' impatient throng;

White-muslin'd misses and mammas are seen,

Link'd with gay cockneys, glittering o'er the green:

The rising breeze unnumber'd charms displays,

And the tight ankle strikes th' astonish'd gaze.

But chief, thou Nurse of the Didactic Muse,

Divine Nonsensia, all thy soul infuse;

The charms of Secants and of Tangents tell,

How Loves and Graces in an Angle dwell;

How slow progressive Points protract the Line,

As pendant spiders spin the filmy twine;

How lengthen'd Lines, impetuous sweeping round,

Spread the wide Plane, and mark its circling bound;

How Planes, their substance with their motion grown,

Form the huge Cube, the Cylinder, the Cone.

Lo! where the chimney's sooty tube ascends,

The fair Trochais[68] from the corner bends!

Her coal-black eyes upturn'd, incessant mark

The eddying smoke, quick flame, and volant spark;

Mark with quick ken, where flashing in between

Her much-loved Smoke-Jack glimmers thro' the scene:

Mark how his various parts together tend,

Point to one purpose,—in one object end:

The spiral grooves in smooth meanders flow,

Drags the long chain, the polish'd axles glow,

While slowly circumvolves the piece of beef below:

The conscious fire with bickering radiance burns,

Eyes the rich joint, and roasts it as it turns.

So youthful Horner rolled the roguish eye,

Cull'd the dark plum from out his Christmas pie,

And cried in self-applause—'How good a boy am I.'

So, the sad victim of domestic spite,

Fair Cinderella, pass'd the wintry night,

In the lone chimney's darksome nook immured,

Her form disfigured, and her charms obscured.

Sudden her godmother appears in sight,

Lifts the charm'd rod, and chants the mystic rite.

The chanted rite the maid attentive hears,

And feels new ear-rings deck her listening ears;

While 'midst her towering tresses, aptly set,

Shines bright, with quivering glance, the smart aigrette;

Brocaded silks the splendid dress complete,

And the Glass Slipper grasps her fairy feet.

Six cock-tail'd mice transport her to the ball,

And liveried lizards wait upon her call.

Alas! that partial Science should approve

The sly Rectangle's[69] too licentious love!

For three bright nymphs the wily wizard burns;—

Three bright-ey'd nymphs requite his flame by turns.

Strange force of magic skill! combined of yore

With Plato's science and Menecmus' lore.

In Afric's schools, amid those sultry sands

High on its base where Pompey's pillar stands,

This learnt the Seer; and learnt, alas! too well,

Each scribbled talisman and smoky spell:

What mutter'd charms, what soul-subduing arts,

Fell Zatanai[70] to his sons imparts.

Gins![71]—black and huge! who in Dom-Daniel's[72] cave

Writhe your scorch'd limbs on sulphur's azure wave,

Or, shivering, yell amidst eternal snows,

Where cloud-capp'd Caf[73] protrudes his granite toes

(Bound by his will, Judæa's fabled king,[74]

Lord of Aladdin's lamp and mystic ring).

Gins! YE remember! for YOUR toil convey'd

Whate'er of drugs the powerful charm could aid;

Air, earth, and sea ye search'd, and where below

Flame embryo lavas, young volcanoes glow—

Gins! ye beheld appall'd th' enchanter's hand

Wave in dark air th' Hypothenusal wand:

Saw him the mystic Circle trace, and wheel

With head erect, and far-extended heel;

Saw him, with speed that mock'd the dazzled eye,

Self-whirl'd, in quick gyrations eddying fly:

Till done the potent spell—behold him grown

Fair Venus' emblem—the Phœnician Cone.[75]

Triumphs the Seer, and now secure observes

The kindling passions of the rival Curves.

And first, the fair Parabola behold,

Her timid arms, with virgin blush, unfold!

Though, on one focus fix'd, her eyes betray

A heart that glows with love's resistless sway,

Though, climbing oft, she strive with bolder grace

Round his tall neck to clasp her fond embrace,

Still ere she reach it, from his polish'd side

Her trembling hands in devious Tangents glide.

Not thus Hyperbola:—with subtlest art

The blue-eyed wanton plays her changeful part;

Quick as her conjugated axes move

Through every posture of luxurious love,

Her sportive limbs with easiest grace expand;

Her charms unveil'd provoke the lover's hand:

Unveil'd, except in many a filmy ray,

Where light Asymptotes o'er her bosom play,

Nor touch her glowing skin, nor intercept the day.

Yet why, Ellipsis, at thy fate repine?

More lasting bliss, securer joys are thine.

Though to each Fair his treach'rous wish may stray,

Though each, in turn, may seize a transient sway,

'Tis thine with mild coercion to restrain,

Twine round his struggling heart, and bind with endless chain.

Thus, happy France! in thy regenerate land,

Where Taste with Rapine saunters hand in hand;

Where, nursed in seats of innocence and bliss,

Reform greets Terror with fraternal kiss;

Where mild Philosophy first taught to scan

The wrongs of Providence, and rights of Man:

Where Memory broods o'er Freedom's earlier scene,

The Lantern bright, and brighter Guillotine;

Three gentle swains evolve their longing arms,

And woo the young Republic's virgin charms;

And though proud Barras with the Fair succeed,

Though not in vain th' Attorney Rewbell plead,

Oft doth th' impartial nymph their love forgo,

To clasp thy crooked shoulders, blest Lepeaux!

So, with dark dirge athwart the blasted heath,

Three Sister Witches hail'd th' appall'd Macbeth.

So, the Three Fates beneath grim Pluto's roof,

Strain the dun warp, and weave the murky woof;

Till deadly Atropos with fatal shears

Slits the thin promise of th' expected years,

While midst the dungeon's gloom or battle's din,

Ambition's victims perish, as they spin.

Thus, the Three Graces on the Idalian green

Bow with deft homage to Cythera's Queen;

Her polish'd arms with pearly bracelets deck,

Part her light locks, and bare her ivory neck;

Round her fair form ethereal odours throw,

And teach th' unconscious zephyrs where to blow;

Floats the thin gauze, and glittering as they play,

The bright folds flutter in phlogistic day.

So, with his daughters Three, th' unsceptred Lear

Heaved the loud sigh, and pour'd the glistering tear;

His DAUGHTERS Three, save one alone, conspire

(Rich in his gifts) to spurn their generous sire;

Bid the rude storm his hoary tresses drench,

Stint the spare meal, the hundred knights retrench;

Mock his mad sorrow, and with alter'd mien

Renounce the daughter, and assert the queen.

A father's griefs his feeble frame convulse,

Rack his white head, and fire his feverous pulse;

Till kind Cordelia soothes his soul to rest,

And folds the parent-monarch to her breast.

Thus some fair spinster grieves in wild affright,

Vex'd with dull megrim, or vertigo light;

Pleas'd round the fair Three dawdling doctors stand,

Wave the white wig, and stretch the asking hand,

State the grave doubt, the nauseous draught decree,

And all receive, tho' none deserve, a fee.

So down thy hill, romantic Ashbourn, glides

The Derby dilly, carrying Three Insides.

One in each corner sits, and lolls at ease,

With folded arms, propt back, and outstretch'd knees;

While the press'd Bodkin, punch'd and squeez'd to death,

Sweats in the mid-most place, and pants for breath.

'Twas thine alone, O youth of giant frame,

Isosceles! that rebel heart to tame!

In vain coy Mathesis[76] thy presence flies:

Still turn her fond hallucinating eyes;

Thrills with Galvanic fires each tortuous nerve,

Throb her blue veins, and dies her cold reserve.

—Yet strives the Fair, till in the giant's breast

She sees the mutual passion flame confessed:

Where'er he moves, she sees his tall limbs trace

Internal Angles equal at the base;

Again she doubts him: but produced at will,

She sees th' external Angles equal still.

Say, blest Isosceles! what favouring power,

Or love, or chance, at night's auspicious hour,

While to the Asses'-Bridge entranced you stray'd,

Led to the Asses'-Bridge th' enamour'd maid?—

The Asses'-Bridge, for ages doom'd to hear

The deafening surge assault his wooden ear,

With joy repeats sweet sounds of mutual bliss,

The soft susurrant sigh, and gently-murmuring kiss.

So thy dark arches, London Bridge, bestride

Indignant Thames, and part his angry tide,

There oft—returning from those green retreats,

Where fair Vauxhallia decks her sylvan seats;—

Where each spruce nymph, from city compters free,

Sips the froth'd syllabub, or fragrant tea;

While with sliced ham, scraped beef, and burnt champagne,

Her 'prentice lover soothes his amorous pain;

There oft, in well-trimm'd wherry, glide along

Smart beaux and giggling belles, a glittering throng:

Smells the tarr'd rope—with undulation fine

Flaps the loose sail—the silken awnings shine;

'Shoot we the bridge!' the venturous boatmen cry;

'Shoot we the bridge!' th' exulting fare reply.

—Down the steep fall the headlong waters go,

Curls the white foam, the breakers roar below.

The veering helm the dextrous steersman stops,

Shifts the thin oar, the fluttering canvas drops;

Then with closed eyes, clench'd hands, and quick-drawn breath,

Darts at the central arch, nor heeds the gulf beneath.

—Full 'gainst the pier the unsteady timbers knock,

The loose planks, starting, own the impetuous shock;

The shifted oar, dropp'd sail, and steadied helm,

With angry surge the closing waters whelm,

—Laughs the glad Thames, and clasps each fair one's charms,

That screams and scrambles in his oozy arms.

—Drench'd each smart garb, and clogg'd each struggling limb,

Far o'er the stream the Cockneys sink or swim;

While each badged boatman, clinging to his oar,

Bounds o'er the buoyant wave, and climbs the applauding shore.

So, towering Alp! from thy majestic ridge

Young Freedom gazed on Lodi's blood-stain'd Bridge;

Saw, in thick throngs, conflicting armies rush,

Ranks close on ranks, and squadrons squadrons crush;

Burst in bright radiance through the battle's storm,

Waved her broad hands, display'd her awful form;

Bade at her feet regenerate nations bow,

And twin'd the wreath round Buonaparte's brow.

—Quick with new lights, fresh hopes, and alter'd zeal,

The slaves of despots dropp'd the blunted steel:

Exulting Victory crown'd her favourite child,

And freed Liguria, clapp'd her hands, and smiled.

Nor long the time ere Britain's shores shall greet

The warrior-sage, with gratulation sweet:

Eager to grasp the wreath of naval fame,

The Great Republic plans the Floating Frame!

—O'er the huge frame gigantic Terror stalks,

And counts with joy the close-compacted balks:

Of young-eyed Massacres the Cherub crew

Round their grim chief the mimic task pursue;

Turn the stiff screw,[77] apply the strengthening clamp,

Drive the long bolt, or fix the stubborn cramp,

Lash the reluctant beam, the cable splice,

Join the firm dove-tail with adjustment nice,

Thro' yawning fissures urge the willing wedge,

Or give the smoothing adze a sharper edge.

—Or group'd in fairy bands, with playful care,

The unconscious bullet to the furnace bear;—

Or gaily tittering, tip the match with fire,

Prime the big mortar, bid the shell aspire;

Applaud, with tiny hands, and laughing eyes,

And watch the bright destruction as it flies.

Now the fierce forges gleam with angry glare—

The windmill[78] waves his woven wings in air;

Swells the proud sail, the exulting streamers fly,

Their nimble fins unnumber'd paddles ply:

—Ye soft airs breathe, ye gentle billows waft,

And, fraught with Freedom, bear the expected Raft!

Perch'd on her back, behold the Patriot train,

Muir, Ashley, Barlow, Buonaparte, Paine!

While Rowan's hand directs the blood-empurpled rein.

Ye Imps of Murder! guard her angel form,

Check the rude surge, and chase the hovering storm;

Shield from contusive rocks her timber limbs,

And guide the sweet Enthusiast[79] as she swims;

—And now, with web-foot oars, she gains the land,

And foreign footsteps press the yielding sand:

—The Communes spread, the gay Departments smile,

Fair Freedom's Plant o'ershades the laughing isle:

Fired with new hopes, the exulting peasant sees

The Gallic streamer woo the British breeze;

While, pleased to watch its undulating charms,

The smiling infant[80] spreads his little arms.

Ye Sylphs of Death! on demon pinions flit

Where the tall Guillotine is rais'd for Pitt:

To the pois'd plank tie fast the monster's back,

Close the nice slider, ope the expectant sack;

Then twitch, with fairy hands, the frolic pin—

Down falls the impatient axe with deafening din;

The liberated head rolls off below,

And simpering Freedom hails the happy blow!

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