A Christian maid is weeping in the town of Oviedo;
     She waits the coming of her love, the Count of Desparedo. 
     I pray you all in charity, that you will never tell
     How he met the Moorish maiden beside the lonely well.

     SONNET TO BRITAIN

     “BY THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON”

     Halt!  Shoulder arms!  Recover!  As you were! 
       Right wheel!  Eyes left!  Attention!  Stand at ease! 
       O Britain!  O my country!  Words like these
     Have made thy name a terror and a fear
     To all the nations.  Witness Ebro’s banks,
       Assaye, Toulouse, Nivelle, and Waterloo,
       Where the grim despot muttered, Sauve qui pent!
     And Ney fled darkling.—­Silence in the ranks! 
     Inspired by these, amidst the iron crash
       Of armies, in the centre of his troop
     The soldier stands—­unmovable, not rash—­
       Until the forces of the foemen droop;
     Then knocks the Frenchmen to eternal smash,
       Pounding them into mummy.  Shoulder, hoop!

A BALL IN THE UPPER CIRCLES

From “The Modern Endymion”

’Twas a hot season in the skies.  Sirius held the ascendant, and under his influence even the radiant band of the Celestials began to droop, while the great ball-room of Olympus grew gradually more and more deserted.  For nearly a week had Orpheus, the leader of the heavenly orchestra, played to a deserted floor.  The elite would no longer figure in the waltz.

Juno obstinately kept her room, complaining of headache and ill-temper.  Ceres, who had lately joined a dissenting congregation, objected generally to all frivolous amusements; and Minerva had established, in opposition, a series of literary soirees, at which Pluto nightly lectured on the fine arts and phrenology, to a brilliant and fashionable audience.  The Muses, with Hebe and some of the younger deities, alone frequented the assemblies; but with all their attractions there was still a sad lack of partners.  The younger gods had of late become remarkably dissipated, messed three times a week at least with Mars in the barracks, and seldom separated sober.  Bacchus had been sent to Coventry by the ladies, for appearing one night in the ball-room, after a hard sederunt, so drunk that he measured his length upon the floor after a vain attempt at a mazurka; and they likewise eschewed the company of Pan, who had become an abandoned smoker, and always smelt infamously of cheroots.  But the most serious defection, as also the most unaccountable, was that of the beautiful Diana, par excellence the belle of the season, and assuredly the most graceful nymph that ever tripped along the halls of heaven.  She had gone off suddenly to the country, without alleging any intelligible excuse, and with her the last attraction of the ball-room seemed to have disappeared.  Even Venus, the perpetual lady patroness, saw that the affair was desperate.