Masking and humming, TO MR. MURRAY. To hook the reader, you, John Murray, (At least, it has not been as yet); And mind you do not let escape These rhymes to Morning Post or Perry, Which would be very treacherous-very, And get me into such a scrape ! For, firstly, I should have to sally, All in my little boat, against a Galley; And, should I chance to slay the Assyrian wight, Have next to combat with the female knight. TO THOMAS MOORE. I. My boat is on the shore, And my bark is on the sea; But, before I go, Tom Moore, Here's a double health to thee! March 25, 1817. Though the ocean roar around me, IV. Were't the last drop in the well, 'Tis to thee that I would drink. V. With that water, as this wine, Should be peace with thine and mine, July, 1817 EPISTLE FROM MR. MURRAY TO DR. POLIDORI.84 DEAR Doctor, I have read your play, To shatter'd nerves and quicken'd pulses, I like your moral and machinery; Your plot, too, has such scope for scenery; The play's concoction full of art; Your hero raves, your heroine cries, My back-shop glut, my shelves encumber. There's Byron too, who once did better, I write in haste; excuse each blunder; The Quarterly-Ah, sir, if you The room's so full of wits and bards, Crabbes, Campbells, Crokers, Freres, and Wards, My humble tenement admits All persons in the dress of gent., A party dines with me to-day, They're at this moment in discussion JOHN MURRAY. August, 1817. EPISTLE TO MR. MURRAY. My dear Mr. Murray, You're in a damn'd hurry To set up this ultimate Canto; 85 But (if they don't rob us) You'll see Mr. Hobhouse Will bring it safe in his portmanteau. For the Journal you hint of, As ready to print off, No doubt you do right to commend it; But as yet I have writ off The devil a bit of Our "Beppo :"--when copied, I'll send it. Then you've 's Tour, No great things, to be sure, You could hardly begin with a less work; For the pompous rascallion, Who don't speak Italian Nor French, must have scribbled by guesswork. You can make any loss up With "Spence" and his gossip, A work which must surely succeed; With the new "Fytte" of "Whistlecraft," Then you've General Gordon, Who girded his sword on, To serve with a Muscovite master, And help him to polish A nation so owlish, They thought shaving their beards a disaster. For the man, "poor and shrewd," With whom you'd conclude A compact without more delay, Perhaps some such pen is Still extant in Venice; "186 But please, sir, to mention your pay. Venice, January 8, 1818. TO MR. MURRAY. STRAHAN, Tonson, Lintot of the times, Patron and publisher of rhymes, For thee the bard up Pindus climbs, My Murray. To thee, with hope and terror dumb, |