Bentley's Miscellany, Volume I :: BOB BURNS AND BERANGER.

BOB BURNS AND BERANGER.

SAM LOVER AND OVIDIUS NASO.

BY FATHER PROUT.

TO THE EDITOR OF BENTLEY'S MISCELLANY.

Sir,—Under the above title I forward you two more scraps from Water-grass-hill.

The first is a glee in praise of poverty, a subject on which poets of every country have a common understanding. The Italian Berni, indeed, went a step farther when he sang the "comforts of being in debt,"—La laude del debito; but your enthusiast never knows where to stop. This MS. may suit in the present state of the money market,—a bill drawn by Burns and endorsed by Beranger. You can rely on the Scotchman's signature, experto crede Roberto; while there can be no doubt that the French songster's financial condition fully entitles him to join Burns in an attempt of this kind. Since, however, much spurious paper appears to be afloat, you will use your own discretion as to the foreign acceptance.

Of Scrap No. VI. I say nothing, Doctor Prout having left a note on the subject prefixed to the same. Yours, &c.

Rory O'Dryscull.

Water-grass-hill, April 20.

Scrap No. V.

I.	1.
Is there,	Quoi! Pauvre honnÊte
For honest poverty,	Baisser la tÊte?
That hangs his head	Quoi! rougir de la sorte?
And a' that?	Que l'Âme basse
The coward slave	S'Éloigne et passe
We pass him by,	Nous—soyons gueux! n'importe!
We dare be poor for a' that:	Travail obscur—
For a' that, and a' that,	N'importe!
Our toils obscure,	Quand l'or est pur
And a' that;	N'importe!
The rank is but	Qu'il ne soit point
The guinea's stamp,	MarquÉ au coin
The Man's the gowd for a' that.	D'un noble rang—qu'importe!

II.	2.
What! though	Quoiqu'on dÛt faire
On homely fare we dine,	Bien maigre chÈre
Wear hidden grey,	Et vÊtir pauvre vÊtement;
And a' that;	Aux sots leur soie,
Give fools their silks,	Leur vin, leur joie;
And knaves their wine,	Ca fait'il L'Homme? eh, nullement!
A man's a Man for a' that:	'Luxe et grandeur—
For a' that, for a' that,	Qu'importe!
Their tinsel show,	Train et splendeur—
And a' that;	Qu'importe!
The honest man,	Coeurs vils et creux!
Though e'er so poor,	Un noble gueux
Is king o' men for a' that.	Vaut toute la cohorte!

III.	3.
Ye see	Voyez ce fat—
Yon birkie, ca'd a lord,	Un vain Éclat
Wha struts and stares,	L'entoure, et on l'encense,
And a' that;	Mais aprÈs tout
Though hundreds worship	Ce n'est qu'un fou,—
At his word,	Un sot, quoiqu'il en pense;
He's but a coof for a' that:	Terre et maison,
For a' that, for a' that,	Qu'il pense—
His riband, star,	Titre et blazon,
And a' that;	Qu'il pense—
The man of	Or et ducats,
Independent mind	Non! ne font pas
Can look and laugh at a' that.	La vraie indÉpendence!

IV.	4.
A king	Un roi peut faire
Can make a belted knight,	Duc, dignitaire,
A marquis, duke,	Comte et marquis, journellement;
And a' that;	Mais ce qu'on nomme
But an Honest Man	Un HonnÊte Homme,
's aboon his might,	Le peut-il faire? eh, nullement!
Guid faith he manna fa' that.	Tristes faveurs!
For a' that, for a' that,	RÉellement;
Their dignities,	Pauvres honneurs!
And a' that;	RÉellement;
The pith o' sense	Le fier maintien
And pride o' warth	Des gens de bien
Are higher ranks than a' that.	Leur manque essentiellement.

V.	5.
Then let us pray	Or faisons voeu
That come it may—	Qu'À tous, sous peu,
As come it will	Arrive un jour de jugement;—
For a' that—	Amis, ce jour
That sense and warth,	Aura son tour,
O'er all the earth,	J'en prends, j'en prends, l'engagement.
May bear the gree, and a' that!	Espoir et en-
For a' that, and a' that,	couragement,
It's coming yet,	Aux pauvres gens
For a' that,	Soulagement;
That man to man,	'Lors sure la terre
The warld a' o'er,	Vivrons en frÈres,
Shall brothers be, for a' that.	Et librement, et sagement!

Scrap No. VI.

Possevino, in his History of the Gonzagas, (fol. Mantua, 1620,) tells us, at page 781, that a Polish army, having penetrated to the Euxine, found the ashes, with many MSS. of Ovid under a marble monument, which they transferred in pomp to Cracow, A.D. 1581. It is well known that the exiled Roman had written sundry poems in barbaric metre to gratify the Scythian and Getic literati with whom he was surrounded. We have his own words for it:

The following is a fair specimen, procured by the kindness of the late erudite Quaff-y-punchovitz, Keeper of the Archives of the Cracovian University. The rhythmic termination, called by the Greeks ????te?e?t?? is here clearly traceable to a Northern origin. It would appear that the Scandinavian poets took great pride in the nicety and richness of these rhymes, by which they beguiled the tediousness of their winter nights:

"Accipiunt inimicam hyemem RIMISque, fatiscunt."

Ovid first tried thus an experiment on his native tongue, which was duly followed up by the Church, not unwilling to indulge by any reasonable concession her barbarous converts in the sixth century. Of Mr. Lover's translation it were superfluous to point out the miraculous fidelity; delicate gallantry and well-sustained humour distinguish every line of his vernacular version, hardly to be surpassed by the Ars amandi of his Latin competitor.

TO THE HARD-HEARTED MOLLY	AD MOLLISSIMAM PUELLAM, È GETICÂ
CAREW, THE LAMENT OF HER	CARUARUM FAMILIÂ OVIDIUS
IRISH LOVER.	NASO LAMENTATUR.

1.	I.
Och hone!	Heu! heu!
Oh! what will I do?	Me tÆdet, me piget o!
Sure my love is all crost,	Cor mihi riget o!
Like a bud in the frost ...	Ut flos sub frigido ...
And there's no use at all	Et nox ipsa mÎ, tum
In my going to bed;	Cum vado dormitÙm,
For 'tis dhrames, and not sleep,	Infausta, insomnis,
That comes into my head ...	Transcurritur omnis ...
And 'tis all about you,	Hoc culpÂ fit tuÂ
My sweet Molly Carew,	MÎ, mollis CarÙa,
And indeed 'tis a sin	Sic mihi illudens,
And a shame.—	Nec pudens.—
You're complater than nature	Prodigum tu, re
In every feature;	Es, verÂ, naturÆ,
The snow can't compare	Candidor lacte;—
To your forehead so fair:	Plus fronte cum hÂc te,
And I rather would spy	Cum istis ocellis,
Just one blink of your eye	Plus omnibus stellis
Than the purtiest star	Mehercule vellem.—
That shines out of the sky;	Sed heu, me imbellem!
Tho'—by this and by that!	A me, qui sum fidus,
For the matter o' that—	Vel ultimum sidus
You're more distant by far	Non distat te magis ...
Than that same.	Quid agis!
Och hone, wierasthrew!	Heu! heu! nisi tu
I am alone	Me ames,
In this world without you!	Pero! pillauleu!

2.	II.
Och hone!	Heu! heu!
But why should I speak	Sed cur sequar laude
Of your forehead and eyes,	Ocellos aut frontem
When your nose it defies	Si NASI, cum fraude,
Paddy Blake the schoolmaster	PrÆtereo pontem?...
To put it in rhyme?—	Ast hic ego minÙs
Though there's one Burke,	QuÀm ipse Longinus
He says,	In verbis exprimem
Who would call it Snublime ...	Hunc nasum sublimem ...
And then for your cheek,	De floridÂ genÂ
Throth 'twould take him a week	Vulgaris camoena
Its beauties to tell	Cantaret in vanum
As he'd rather:—	Per annum.—
Then your lips, O machree!	Tum, tibi puella!
In their beautiful glow	Sic tument labella
They a pattern might be	Ut nil plus jucundum
For the cherries to grow.—	Sit, aut ribicundum;
'Twas an apple that tempted	Si primitÙs homo
Our mother, we know;	Collapsus est pomo,
For apples were scarce	Si dolor et luctus
I suppose long ago:	Venerunt per fructus,
But at this time o' day,	Proh! Ætas nunc serior
'Pon my conscience I'll say,	Ne cadat, vereor,
Such cherries might tempt	Icta tam bello
A man's father!	Labello:
Och hone, wierasthrew!	Heu! heu! nisi tu
I'm alone	Me ames,
In this world without you!	Pereo! pillaleu!

3.	III.
Och hone!	Heu! heu!
By the man in the moon!	Per cornua lunÆ
You teaze me all ways	PerpetuÒ tu ne
That a woman can plaze;	Me vexes impunÈ?...
For you dance twice as high	I nunc choro salta
With that thief Pat Macghee	(Mac-ghÌus nam tecÙm)
As when you take share	PlantÂ magis altÂ
Of a jig, dear, with me;	QuÀm sueveris mecÙm!...
Though the piper I bate,	Tibicinem quando
For fear the ould chate	Cogo fustigando
Wouldn't play you your	Ne falsum det melus,
Favourite tune.	Anhelus.—
And when you're at Mass	A te in sacello
My devotion you crass,	Vix mentem revello,
For 'tis thinking of you	Heu! miserÈ scissam
I am, Molly Carew;	Te inter et Missam;
While you wear on purpose	Tu latitas vero
A bonnet so deep,	Tam stricto galero
That I can't at your sweet	Ut cernere vultum
Pretty face get a peep.	Desiderem multÙm.
Oh! lave off that bonnet,	Et dubites jam, nÙm
Or else I'll lave on it	(Ob animÆ damnum)
The loss of my wandering	Sit fas hunc deberi
Sowl!	Auferri!
Och hone! like an owl,	Heu! heu! nisi tu
Day is night,	CorÀm sis,
Dear, to me without you!	CÆcus sim: eleleu!

4.	IV.
Och hone!	Heu! heu!
Don't provoke me to do it;	Non me provocato,
For there's girls by the score	Nam virginum sat, o!
That loves me, and more.	Stant mihi amato ...
And you'd look very queer,	Et stuperes planÈ,
If some morning you'd meet	Si aliquo manÈ
My wedding all marching	Me sponsum videres;
In pride down the street.	Hoc quomodo ferres?
Throth you'd open your eyes,	Quid diceres, si cum
And you'd die of surprise	Triumpho per vicum,
To think 'twasn't you	Maritus it ibi,
Was come to it.	Non tibi!
And 'faith! Katty Naile	Et pol! CatherinÆ
And her cow, I go bail,	Cui vacca, (tu, sine)
Would jump if I'd say,	Si proferem hymen
"Katty Naile, name the day."	Grande esset discrimen;
And though you're fair and fresh	Tu quamvis, hÌc aio
As the blossoms in May,	Sis blandior Maio,
And she's short and dark	Et hÆc calet rariÙs
Like a cowld winter's day,	QuÀm Januarius;
Yet, if you don't repent	Si non mutas brevi,
Before Easter,—when Lent	Hanc mihi decrevi
Is over—I'll marry	(Ut sic ultus forem)
For spite.	Uxorem;
Och hone! and when I	Tum posthÂc diÙ
Die for you,	Me spectrum
'Tis my ghost that you'll see every night!	Verebere tu ... eleleu!

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