66 Trooping from their mouldy dens The chap-fallen circle spreads: Welcome, fellow-citizens, Hollow hearts and empty heads! "You are bones, and what of that? Every face, however full, Padded round with flesh and fat, "Death is king, and Vivat Rex! Tread a measure on the stones, Madam-if I know your sex, From the fashion of your bones. 66 No, I cannot praise the fire In your eye-nor yet your lip: All the more do I admire Joints of cunning workmanship. "Lo! God's likeness-the ground-plan Neither modell'd, glazed, or framed : Buss me, thou rough sketch of man, Far too naked to be shamed! 66 Drink to Fortune, drink to Chance, While we keep a little breath! Drink to heavy Ignorance! Hob-and-nob with brother Death! "Thou art mazed, the night is long, What! I am not all as wrong "Youthful hopes, by scores, to all, When the locks are crisp and curl'd ; Unto me my maudlin gall And my mockeries of the world. "Fill the cup, and fill the can! Mingle madness, mingle scorn! Dregs of life, and lees of man: Yet we will not die forlorn." The voice grew faint: there came a further change; By shards and scurf of salt, and scum of dross, A little grain of conscience made him sour." VOL. II. power; To which an answer peal'd from that high land, But in a tongue no man could understand; THE SKIPPING-ROPE. SURE never yet was Antelope Stand off, or else my skipping-rope Will hit in the eye. you How lightly whirls the skipping-rope! How fairy-like you fly! Go, get you gone, you muse and mope— I hate that silly sigh. Nay, dearest, teach me how to hope, Or tell me how to die. There, take it, take my skipping-rope, And hang yourself thereby. |