--which before
Had served for giants many a score--
To end of Club tied each rogue's head fast;
Strapping feet too, to keep them steadfast;
And pickaback them carries townwards,
Behind his brawny back head-downwards,
(So foolish calf--for rhyme I bless X--
Comes _nolens volens_ out of Essex);
Thinking to brain them with his _dextra_,
Or string them up upon the next tree.
That Club--so equal fates condemn--
They thought to catch, has now catch'd them.

Now Hercules, we may suppose,
Was no great dandy in his clothes;
Was seldom, save on Sundays, seen
In calimanco, or nankeen;
On anniversaries would try on
A jerkin spick-span new from lion;
Went bare for the most part, to be cool,
And save the time of his Groom of the Stole;
Besides, the smoke he had been in
In Stygian gulf, had dyed his skin
To a natural sable--a right hell-fit--
That seem'd to careless eyes black velvet.

The brethren from their station scurvy,
Where they hung dangling topsy turvy,
With horror view the black costume,
And each persumes his hour is come!
Then softly to themselves 'gan mutter
The warning words their dame did utter;
Yet not so softly, but with ease
Were overheard by Hercules.
Quoth Cacus--"This is he she spoke of,
Which we so often made a joke of."
"I see," said the other, "thank our sin for't,
'Tis BLACK BACK sure enough--we're in for 't."

His Godship who, for all his brag
Of roughness, was at heart a wag,
At his new name was tickled finely,
And fell a laughing most divinely.
Quoth he, "I'll tell this jest in heaven--
The musty rogues shall be forgiven."
So in a twinkling did uncase them,
On mother earth once more to place them--
The varlets, glad to be unhamper'd,
Made each a leg--then fairly scamper'd.

THE PARTING SPEECH OF THE CELESTIAL MESSENGER TO THE POET

_From the Latin of Palingenius, in the Zodiacus Vitae_

(1832)

But now time warns (