"When learning's triumph o'er her barb'rous foes
First rear'd the stage, immortal Skakspeare rose;
Each change of many-colour'd life he drew,
Exhausted worlds, and then imagined new;
Existence saw him spurn her bounded reign,
And panting Time toil'd after him in vain:
His powerful strokes presiding truth impress'd,
And unresisted passion storm'd the breast."
~281~~
No poison in the cup have ye,
In all your travell'd history,
Pour'd for the hearty, good, and free;
This will your book evince:
So "here's the King!"fill, fill for him,
Then for our Country, to the brim;
With it, good souls, we'll sink or swim.
Huzzah! 'tis gall'd jades wince!
But now, adieu; o'er hill and plain
I scud, ere we shall meet again;
Meantime, all prosp'rous be your reign,
And friends attend in crowds;
Before your splendid course is o'er,
And Blackmantle shall please no more,
You'll know, though yet I'm doom'd to soar,
Your Spirit in the Clouds.{15}"
November, 1825.
Adieu, thou facetious sprite, and may the graybeard Time tread lightly
on thy buoyant spirits! Meet thee or not hereafter, thou shalt live in
my remembrance a cherished name, long as memory holds her influence o'er
the eccentric mind of Bernard Blackmantle.
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