idle fancies
I well might spare.

There--on that shelf, behind the door,--
By all those works of Hannah More
And Bishop Porteus--Let a score
Of lectures guard them;
Take Bulwer, Moore, and Sand, and Sue,
The Mysteries, and the Wandering Jew;
May he who gives to all their due,
The Deil, reward them.

And Venus, if thou hast, as whilom,
For parted lovers an asylum,
To punish or to reconcile 'em,
Take Chloe to it;
And lift, if thou hast heart of flint,
Thy lash, and her fair skin imprint--
But ah! forbear--or, take the hint,
And let me do it.

Not a word, Eusebius, I know what you are going to say,--no shame at
all. You have all your life acquitted Horace; and if he never intended
Chloe to have a whipping, you may be quite sure the little turn that I
have ventured to give the affair, won't bear that construction; and
there will be no occasion to ask the dimensions of the rod, as the
ladies at the assize-town did of Judge Buller, requesting of him, with
their compliments, to send them the measure of his thumb.

Why should I not attempt this rejected ode? Here goes for the honour of
Lydia. "Kiss and be friends" be ever the motto to lovers' quarrels.

_"Donec gratus eram tibi."_

HORACE.
When I was all in all to you,
Nor yet more favour'd youthful minion
His arms around your fair neck threw;
Not Persia's boasted monarch knew
More bless'd a state, more large dominion.

LYDIA.
And whilst you loved but only me,
Nor then _your_ Lydia stood the second,
And Chloe first, in love's degree;
I thought myself a queen to be,
Nor greater Roman Ilia reckon'd.

HORACE.
Now Cretan Chloe rules me quite;
Skill'd in the lyre and every measure,
For whom I'd die this very night,
If but the Fates, in death's despite,
Would Chloe spare, my soul's best treasure.

LYDIA.
Me Calaeis, Ornytus' young heir!
(The flame is mutual _we_ discover,)
For whom to die _two_ deaths I'd dare,
If the stern Fates would only spare,
And _he could_ live, my youthful lover.

HORACE.
What--if our former love restore
Our bonds, too firm for aught to sever,--
I shake off Chloe; and the door
To Lydia open flies once more;
Returning Lydia, and for ever.

LYDIA.
He, though a beauteous star--you light
As cork, and rough as stormy weather,
That vexes Adria's raging might,
With you to live were my