Hold, now. If we laugh at the farcical notion
Of this modern Painter, and deem it so droll,
Why may we not laugh at the Author's devotion,
His ideas who drapes in antiquity's stole;—
Who shocks us with phrases all mouldy with age;
Thinks oddity graceful;—and purity's self
Considers his style, when he darkens his page
With expressions forgotten and laid on the shelf;—
And believes that no term by pure taste is forbid,
If it only were good in the time of the Cid?
FABLE XL.
THE TWO INNS.
Coming to a little town,
The mountain's skirts within,
Two youthful travellers, seeking rest,
Looked round them for an Inn.
Of two rival Inns, the host,
Each, with a thousand offers,
Did the wayfarers accost.
To give offence to neither
Was their natural desire;
So, in the house of either,
Apartments one doth hire.
Of the mansions twain,
Each guest chooseth, for himself,
In which he will remain.
To a house that stretched
Around its ample courts.
Its broad front palatial,
One traveller resorts.
A quartered scutcheon shone
Over the lofty gate,
Sculptured deep in stone.
Less grand the other Inn
Appeared unto the sight,
But, comfort and good cheer within
Its patron's trust requite.
Chambers, its walls did screen,
Of pleasant temperature,
All light, and bright, and clean.
But its rival, the huge palace,
With its architecture bold,
Was narrow, dark and dirty,
And miserably cold.
A portal tall and sightly,—
Within inclement garrets,
With tiled roof covered slightly.
Its inmate comfortless,
Did a weary sojourn make;
And bewailed unto his comrade,
Next day, his sad mistake.
His friend thus answer gives:
"In like manner many a book
Its reader's hopes deceives."
FABLE XLI.
THE TEA-PLANT AND SAGE.
From China, once, the Tea-plant coming,
Met with the Sage upon his way.
"Friend,"—said the latter,—"whither roaming?"
"For Europe, where for me they pay
A generous price,"—quoth Tea,—"I'm bound."
"And I,"—said Sage,—"to China's market go;
Where I am held in reverence profound
For beverage or for medicine, you know.
In Europe no good fortune waits on me;
A worthless herb, not comparable to thee,
But quite too common there—to shine.
I to your home am sent, and you to mine.
Good luck attend you to my native shore!
For never yet was any nation known,
But gold and praises will profusely pour
On foreign products, while it slights its own."