DON JUAN.

The worlds to come of both, or fall beneath,

And then both worlds would punish their mis-carriage ;

So leaving each their priest and prayer-book ready,They say no more of Death or of the Lady.

x.

The only two that in my recollectionHave sung of heaven and hell, or marriage, areDante and Milton, and of both the affectionWas hapless in their nuptials, for some harOf fault of temper ruin'd the connection,

(Such things, in fact, it don't ask much to mar);But Dante’s Beatrice and Milton’s EveWere not drawn from their spouses, you conceive.

XT.

Some persons say that Dante meant theologyBy Beatrice, and not a mistress—I,

Although my opinion may require apology,

Deem this a commentator’s phantasy;

Unless indeed it was from his own knowledge heDecided thus, and show’d good reason why;

I think that Dante's more abstruse ecstaticaHeant to personify the mathematics.

XII.

Haidee and Juan were not married ; butThe fault was theirs, not mine; it is not fair,Chaste reader, then, in any way to putThe blame on me, unless you wish they were;Then if you’d have them wedded, please to shutThe hook which treats of this erroneous pair,Before the consequences grow too awful;

’Tis dangerous to read of loves unlawful

XIII.

Yet they were happy,—happy in the illicitIndulgence of their innocent desires ;

But more imprudent grown with every visit,

Haidee forgot the island was her sire’s;

When we have what we like ’tis hard to miss it,

At least in the beginning, ere one tires;

Thus she came often, not a moment losing,

'Whilst her piratical papa was cruising.

XIV.

Bet not his mode of raising cash seem strange,Although he fleec'd the flags of every nation;

For into a prime minister but changeHis title, and ’tis nothing but taxation;

But he, more modest, took au humbler rangeOf life, and in an houester vocationPursued o’er the high seas his watery journey,

And merely practised as a sea-attorney.

XV.

The good old gentleman had been detain'dBy winds and waves, and some important cap-tures;

And, in the hope of more, at sea remain'd,Although a squall or two had damp’d his rap-^ tures,

By swamping one of the prizes; he had chain’dHis prisoners, dividing them like chapters.

In number'd lots; they all had cuffs and collars;And averag’d each from ten to a hundred dollars.

AVI.

korn9 he dispos’d of off Cape Matapan,

Among his friends, the Mainots: some he sold1 ® his Tunis correspondents, save one manioss’d overboard, unsaleable (being old)*

The rest—save here and there some richer one,Reserv’d for future ransom, in the hold,

Were link’d alike; as for the common people, heHad a large order from the Dey of Tripoli.

xvir.

The merchandise wa3 serv’d in the same way,Piec’d out for different marts in the Levant ,Except some certain portions of the prey,

Light classic articles of female want,

French stuffs, lace, tweezers, toothpicks, teapot,tray,

Guitars and castanets from Alieant,

All which selected from the spoil he gathers,ftobb’d for his daughter by the best of fathers.

XVIII.

A monkey, a Dutch mastiff, a mackaw.

Two parrots, with a Persian cat and kittens,

He chose from several animats be saw—

A terrier, too, which once had been a Briton's,Who dying on the coast of Ithaca,

The peasants gave the poor dumb thing a pit-tance.

These to secure in this strong blowing weather,

He cag’d in one huge hamper all together.

XIX.

Then having settled his marine affairs,Despatching single cruisers here and there,

His vessel having need of some repairs,

He shap’d his course to where his daughter fairContinued still her hospitable cares;

But that part of the coast being shoal and bare,And rough with reefs which ran out many a mile*His port lay on the other side o’ the isle.

XX.

And there he went ashore without delay,

Having no custom-house nor quarantineTo ask him awkward questions on the way,

About the time and place where he had been:He left his ship to be hove down next day,

With orders to the people to careen;

So that till hands were busy beyond measure.

In getting out goods, ballast, guns, and treasure.

XXI.

Arriving at the summit of a hillWhich overlook’d the white walls of his home,He stopp'd—What singular emotions fillTheir bosoms who have been induced to roam!With fluttering doubts if all be well or ill—

With love for many, and with fears for some;All feelings which o’erleap the years long lost,

And bring our hearts back to their starting-post.

XXII.

The approach of home to husbands and to sires,After long travellin by land or water,

Most naturally some small doubt inspires—

A female family's a serious matter;

(None trust the sex more, o* so much admires—But they hate flattery, so I never flatter;)

Wives in their husband’s absences grow subtler.And daughters sometimes run oh with the butler.

XXIII.

An’honest gentleman, at his return,

May not have the good fortune of Ulysses:

Not all lone matrons for their husbands mourn,

I Or show the same dislike to suitor’s kisses f