--for the Lord new expense:
'Tis discovered that mending his _grammar_ won't do,
As the Subaltern also must find him in _sense_!
At last--even this is achieved by his aid;
Friend Subaltern pockets the cash and--the story;
Drums beat--the new Grand March of Intellect's played--
And off struts my Lord, the Historian, in glory!
[1] Or Lieutenant-General, as it may happen to be.
IMITATION OF THE INFERNO OF DANTE.
_"Cosi quel fiato gli spiriti mali
Di qua, di la, di giu, di su gli mena."_
_Inferno_, canto 5.
I turned my steps and lo! a shadowy throng
Of ghosts came fluttering towards me--blown along,
Like cockchafers in high autumnal storms,
By many a fitful gust that thro' their forms
Whistled, as on they came, with wheezy puff,
And puft as--tho' they'd never puff enough.
"Whence and what are ye?" pitying I inquired
Of these poor ghosts, who, tattered, tost, and tired
With such eternal puffing, scarce could stand
On their lean legs while answering my demand.
"We once were authors"--thus the Sprite, who led
This tag-rag regiment of spectres, said--
"Authors of every sex, male, female, neuter,
"Who, early smit with love of praise and--_pewter_,[1]
"On C--lb--n's shelves first saw the light of day,
"In ---'s puffs exhaled our lives away--
"Like summer windmills, doomed to dusty peace,
"When the brisk gales that lent them motion, cease.
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