blessed be dry ground! farewell, ocean! farewell, jung vrouw and lively nancy! take my advice, and get married both of you to young farmers. farewell, ye hang-dogs that saved me! share my blessing amongst you; ’tis all i have

[pg 295]

upon me or in me. farewell, neptune! we’ll part friends. if you ever come to cropton-le-moor, i shall be glad to see you, and not till then. hans! jan! pieter! farewell one and all of you; “and if a merry meeting may be wished, god prohibit it.” now for a sweet, safe, still, silent land-bed! set me but within a run and a jump of one, and in two clipped current minutes i will be fast asleep in it, even like the irishman who forgot to say his prayers, but remembered to say amen.

love and lunacy.

the moon—who does not love the silver moon,

in all her fantasies and all her phases?

whether full-orb’d in the nocturnal noon,

shining in all the dewdrops on the daisies,

to light the tripping fairies in their mazes,

whilst stars are winking at the pranks of puck;

or huge and red, as on brown sheaves she gazes;

or new and thin, when coin is turn’d for luck;

who will not say that dian is a duck?

but, oh! how tender, beautiful and sweet,

when in her silent round, serene and clear,

by assignation loving fancies meet,

to recompense the pangs of absence drear!

so ellen, dreaming of lorenzo, dear,

but distant from the city mapp’d by mogg,

still saw his image in that silver sphere,

plain as the man with lantern, bush, and dog,

that used to set our ancestors a-gog.

[pg 296]

and so she told him in a pretty letter,

that came to hand exactly as saint meg’s

was striking ten—eleven had been better;

for then he might have eaten six more eggs,

and both of the bedevill’d turkey-legs,

with relishes from east, west, north, and south,

draining, beside, the teapot to the dregs;

whereas a man, whose heart is in his mouth,

is rather spoilt for hunger and for drouth.