At speaking truth perhaps they are less clever,
But draw the long bow better now than ever.
II
The cause of this effect, or this defect—
“For this effect defective comes by cause,”—1159
Is what I have not leisure to inspect;
But this I must say in my own applause,
Of all the Muses that I recollect,
Whate’er may be her follies or her flaws
In some things, mine’s beyond all contradiction
The most sincere that ever dealt in fiction.
III
And as she treats all things, and ne’er retreats
From anything, this Epic will contain
A wilderness of the most rare conceits,
Which you might elsewhere hope to find in vain.
’Tis true there be some bitters with the sweets,
Yet mixed so slightly, that you can’t complain,
But wonder they so few are, since my tale is
“De rebus cunctis et quibusdam aliis.”1160
IV
But of all truths which she has told, the most
True is that which she is about to tell.
I said it was a story of a ghost—
What then? I only know it so befell.
Have you explored the limits of the coast,
Where all the dwellers of the earth must dwell?
’Tis time to strike such puny doubters dumb as
The sceptics who would not believe Columbus.
V
Some people would impose now with authority,
Turpin’s or Monmouth Geoffry’s Chronicle;
Men whose historical superiority
Is always greatest at a miracle.
But Saint Augustine has the great priority,
Who bids all men believe the impossible,
Because ’tis so. Who nibble, scribble, quibble, he
Quiets at once with “quia impossibile.”1161
VI
And therefore, mortals, cavil not at all;
Believe:—if ’tis improbable, you must,
And if it is impossible, you shall:
’Tis always best to take things upon trust.
I do not speak profanely to recall
Those holier Mysteries which the wise and just
Receive as Gospel, and which grow more rooted,
As all truths must, the more they are disputed:
VII
I merely mean to say what Johnson said,
That in the course of some six thousand years,
All nations have believed that from the dead
A visitant at intervals appears:1162
And what is strangest upon this strange head,
Is, that whatever bar the reason rears
’Gainst such belief, there’s something stronger still
In its behalf—let those deny who will.
VIII
The dinner and the soirée too were done,
The supper too discussed, the dames admired,
The banqueteers had dropped off one by one—
The song was silent, and the dance expired:
The last thin petticoats were vanished, gone
Like fleecy clouds into the sky retired,
And nothing brighter gleamed through the saloon
Than dying tapers—and the peeping moon.
IX
The evaporation of a joyous day
Is like the last glass of champagne, without
The foam which made its virgin bumper gay;
Or like a system coupled with a doubt;
Or like a soda bottle when its spray
Has sparkled and let half its spirit out;
Or like a billow left by storms behind,
Without the animation of the wind;
X
Or like an opiate, which brings troubled rest,
Or none; or like—like nothing that I know
Except itself;—such is the human breast;
A thing, of which similitudes can show
No real likeness—like the old Tyrian vest
Dyed purple, none at present can tell how,
If from a shell-fish or from cochineal.1163
So perish every Tyrant’s robe piece-meal!
XI
But next to dressing for a rout or ball,
Undressing is a woe; our robe de chambre
May sit like that of Nessus,1164 and recall
Thoughts quite as yellow, but less clear than amber.
Titus exclaimed, “I’ve lost a day!”1165 Of all
The nights and days most people can remember,
(I have had of both, some not to be disdained,)
I wish they’d state how many they have gained.
XII
And Juan, on retiring for the night,
Felt restless, and perplexed, and compromised:
He thought Aurora Raby’s eyes more bright
Than Adeline (such is advice) advised;
If he had known exactly his own plight,
He probably would have philosophised:
A great resource to all, and ne’er denied
Till wanted; therefore Juan only sighed.
XIII
He sighed;—the next resource is the full moon,
Where all sighs are deposited; and now
It happened luckily, the chaste orb shone
As clear as such a climate will allow;
And Juan’s mind was in the proper tone
To hail her with the apostrophe—“O thou!”
Of amatory egotism the Tuism,1166
Which further to explain would be a truism.
XIV
But Lover, Poet, or Astronomer—
Shepherd, or swain—whoever may behold,
Feel some abstraction when they gaze on her;
Great thoughts we catch from thence (besides a cold
Sometimes, unless my feelings rather err);
Deep secrets to her rolling light are told;
The Ocean’s tides and mortals’ brains she sways,
And also hearts—if there be truth in lays.
XV
Juan felt somewhat pensive, and disposed
For contemplation rather than his pillow:
The Gothic chamber, where he was enclosed,
Let in the rippling sound of the lake’s billow,
With all the mystery by midnight caused:
Below his window waved (of course) willow;
And he stood gazing out on the cascade
That flashed and after darkened in the shade.
XVI
Upon his table or his toilet,1167—which
Of these is not exactly ascertained—
(I state this, for I am cautious to a pitch
Of nicety, where a fact is to be gained,)
A lamp burned high, while he leant from a niche,
Where many a Gothic ornament remained,
In chiselled stone and painted glass, and all
That Time has left our fathers of their Hall.
XVII
Then, as the night was clear though cold, he threw
His chamber door wide open1168—and went forth
Into a gallery of a sombre hue,
Long, furnished with old pictures of great worth,
Of knights and dames heroic and chaste too,
As doubtless should be people of high birth;
But by dim lights the portraits of the dead
Have something ghastly, desolate, and dread.
XVIII
The forms of the grim Knight and pictured Saint
Look living in the moon; and
