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The time must e； when both alike decay'd；
The chieftain's trophy； and the poet's volume；
Will sink where lie the songs and wars of earth；
Before Pelides' death； or Homer's birth。
With human blood that column was cemented；
With human filth that column is defiled；
As if the peasant's coarse contempt were vented
To show his loathing of the spot he soil'd：
Thus is the trophy used； and thus lamented
Should ever be those blood…hounds； from whose wild
Instinct of gore and glory earth has known
Those sufferings Dante saw in hell alone。
Yet there will still be bards： though fame is smoke；
Its fumes are frankincense to human thought；
And the unquiet feelings； which first woke
Song in the world； will seek what then they sought；
As on the beach the waves at last are broke；
Thus to their extreme verge the passions brought
Dash into poetry； which is but passion；
Or at least was so ere it grew a fashion。
If in the course of such a life as was
At once adventurous and contemplative；
Men； who partake all passions as they pass；
Acquire the deep and bitter power to give
Their images again as in a glass；
And in such colours that they seem to live；
You may do right forbidding them to show 'em；
But spoil （I think） a very pretty poem。
Oh！ ye； who make the fortunes of all books！
Benign Ceruleans of the second sex！
Who advertise new poems by your looks；
Your 'imprimatur' will ye not annex？
What！ must I go to the oblivious cooks；
Those Cornish plunderers of Parnassian wrecks？
Ah！ must I then the only minstrel be；
Proscribed from tasting your Castalian tea！
What！ can I prove 'a lion' then no more？
A ball…room bard； a foolscap； hot…press darling？
To bear the pliments of many a bore；
And sigh； 'I can't get out；' like Yorick's starling；
Why then I 'll swear； as poet Wordy swore
（Because the world won't read him； always snarling）；
That taste is gone； that fame is but a lottery；
Drawn by the blue…coat misses of a coterie。
Oh！ 'darkly； deeply； beautifully blue；'
As some one somewhere sings about the sky；
And I； ye learned ladies； say of you；
They say your stockings are so （Heaven knows why；
I have examined few pair of that hue）；
Blue as the garters which serenely lie
Round the Patrician left…legs； which adorn
The festal midnight； and the levee morn。
Yet some of you are most seraphic creatures…
But times are alter'd since； a rhyming lover；
You read my stanzas； and I read your features：
And… but no matter； all those things are over；
Still I have no dislike to learned natures；
For sometimes such a world of virtues cover；
I knew one woman of that purple school；
The loveliest； chastest； best； but… quite a fool。
Humboldt； 'the first of travellers；' but not
The last； if late accounts be accurate；
Invented； by some name I have forgot；
As well as the sublime discovery's date；
An airy instrument； with which he sought
To ascertain the atmospheric state；
By measuring 'the intensity of blue：'
Oh； Lady Daphne！ let me measure you！
But to the narrative：… The vessel bound
With slaves to sell off in the capital；
After the usual process； might be found
At anchor under the seraglio wall；
Her cargo； from the plague being safe and sound；
Were landed in the market； one and all；
And there with Georgians； Russians； and Circassians；
Bought up for different purposes and passions。
Some went off dearly； fifteen hundred dollars
For one Circassian； a sweet girl； were given；
Warranted virgin； beauty's brightest colours
Had deck'd her out in all the hues of heaven：
Her sale sent home some disappointed bawlers；
Who bade on till the hundreds reach'd eleven；
But when the offer went beyond； they knew
'T was for the Sultan； and at once withdrew。
Twelve negresses from Nubia brought a price
Which the West Indian market scarce would bring；
Though Wilberforce； at last； has made it twice
What 't was ere Abolition； and the thing
Need not seem very wonderful； for vice
Is always much more splendid than a king：
The virtues； even the most exalted； Charity；
Are saving… vice spares nothing for a rarity。
But for the destiny of this young troop；
How some were bought by pachas； some by Jews；
How some to burdens were obliged to stoop；
And others rose to the mand of crews
As renegadoes； while in hapless group；
Hoping no very old vizier might choose；
The females stood； as one by one they pick'd 'em；
To make a mistress； or fourth wife； or victim：
All this must be reserved for further song；
Also our hero's lot； howe'er unpleasant
（Because this Canto has bee too long）；
Must be postponed discreetly for the present；
I 'm sensible redundancy is wrong；
But could not for the muse of me put less in 't：
And now delay the progress of Don Juan；
Till what is call'd in Ossian the fifth Juan。
CANTO THE FIFTH
。
WHEN amatory poets sing their loves
In liquid lines mellifluously bland；
And pair their rhymes as Venus yokes her doves；
They little think what mischief is in hand；
The greater their success the worse it proves；
As Ovid's verse may give to understand；
Even Petrarch's self； if judged with due severity；
Is the Platonic pimp of all posterity。
I therefore do denounce all amorous writing；
Except in such a way as not to attract；
Plain… simple… short； and by no means inviting；
But with a moral to each error tack'd；
Form'd rather for instructing than delighting；
And with all passions in their turn attack'd；
Now； if my Pegasus should not be shod ill；
This poem will bee a moral model。
The European with the Asian shore
Sprinkled with palaces； the ocean stream
Here and there studded with a seventy…four；
Sophia's cupola with golden gleam；
The cypress groves； Olympus high and hoar；
The twelve isles； and the more than I could dream；
Far less describe； present the very view
Which charm'd the charming Mary Montagu。
I have a passion for the name of 'Mary；'
For once it was a magic sound to me；
And still it half calls up the realms of fairy；
Where I beheld what never was to be；
All feelings changed； but this was last to vary；
A spell from which even yet I am not quite free：
But I grow sad… and let a tale grow cold；
Which must not be pathetically told。
The wind swept down the Euxine； and the wave
Broke foaming o'er the blue Symplegades；
'T is a grand sight from off 'the Giant's Grave
To watch the progress of those rolling seas
Between the Bosphorus； as they lash and lave
Europe and Asia； you being quite at ease；
There 's not a sea the passenger e'er pukes in；
Turns up more dangerous breakers than the Euxine。
'T was a raw day of Autumn's bleak beginning；
When nights are equal； but not so the days；
The Parcae then cut short the further spinning
Of seamen's fates； and the loud tempests raise
The waters； and repentance for past sinning
In all； who o'er the great deep take their ways：
They vow to amend their lives； and yet they don't；
Because if drown'd； they can't… if spared； they won't。
A crowd of shivering slaves of every nation；
And age； and sex； were in the market ranged；
Each bevy with the merchant in his station：
Poor creatures！ their good looks were sadly changed。
All save the blacks seem'd jaded with vexation；
From frie