Classic Poem

XI.

Expression oft beyond a meaning goes;
And when Eudoxus talked of nature's charms,
Alas, good man! he only thought of those
Which please our eyes but never fill our arms.
Mere child in love, he dreamt not of alarms
The child of Venus gives, pernicious elf!
Rome's loves — nay, rapes (those worst of amorous harms) —
Those he recorded for the student's shelf,
But knew not how to love nor ravish for himself.

XII.

His whole construction seemed to blunt and turn
The arrows that from Cupid's quiver skim;
So cold he never could for woman burn,
So ugly woman could not burn for him. —
Still, Cupid sent him, in a wicked whim,
A philosophic blonde, a charmer wise,
Studious and plump, now languishing, now prim,
Who, skilled most temptingly to syllogize,
Chopped logic with a pair of large blue melting eyes.

XIII.

'Twas in Lausanne, where crowded parties chat
And take their tea ere London fashion dines,
Nosing Eudoxus, blue-eyed Agnes sat,
And talked of Trajan and the Antonines;
Dwelt much on Roman risings and declines,
And murmured, while they huddled knee to knee,
" What things voluptuousness undermines! "
Eudoxus felt a glow; but knew not, he,
Whether 'twas love, the crowd, philosophy, or tea.

XIV.

Whene'er she uttered, breathing like the south
As o'er a bank of violets it blows,
He curled the smirking hole he called a mouth,
And fed with snuff the knob he termed a nose.
His bosom's fat heaved with unwonted throes,
And still she talked, and still he listened, still
Fresh beauties in her countenance arose.
He asked her dwelling-place — sad news and chill!
" Skirting Lausanne, " she said — " upon the next high hill. "

XV.

High hill! — alas! he ne'er on horseback rode.
Eternal visits in a carriage there,
So near Lausanne as Agnes's abode
Might scandalize the philosophic fair.
Then, walk or not — 'twas either way despair;
Bore through the Alps — on foot! so pursy too!
At length he mentally pronounced, " I swear,
What Hannibal with vinegar could do,
To venture, dearest maid, with all my oil for you!

XVI.

That night on which Eudoxus Agnes met
Neglected wisdom had his pillow flown,
While she retired, half prude and half coquette,
To bed with vanity as cold as stone.
The sage as an Adonis would be known,
His Venus wished for a savante to pass:
Each saw each other's foible, not their own;
He smiled at science in a lovely lass,
She at a sapient squab who turned philandering ass.

XVII.

Thus both, it seems, their natural play mistook,
Though Agnes had the better of the game;
For studious beauties can enjoy a book
When ugly scholars can't enjoy a dame.
A learned dangler often stamps the name
Of blue-stocking on her he ne'er embraced:
The lady's object now was classic fame;
His passion therefore, though by far less chaste,
Portended an amour in the platonic taste.
XVIII.

Yet her enticing charms, his weight of thought,
Had fixed their commerce in a comic hour;
Thus is our planet to its centre brought
By gravity's and by attraction's power.
The morning blushed; but soon a soaking shower!
Eudoxus paused between his love and rain;
He breakfasted, he sighed — it ceased to lower;
He wished the surface of the globe one plane,
Called for his thickest shoes, and groaned and sighed again.

XIX.

" Alas! " he cried, " pedestrious I depart
To scale Olympus and a goddess find:
Not seeing her will almost break my heart,
And getting at her almost break my wind.
Never did body trifle so with mind,
So raise its projects and so knock them flat!
Never was amorous lump of human-kind
So self-suspended between this and that;
So goaded by the flesh — so hindered by the fat!

XX.

" Why, cruel Cupid! make me clambering go,
And like the chamois skip on heights immense?
Why not the goat's ability bestow,
Or spare me from the goat's concupiscence?
Each, each, or neither quality dispense!
Or, cruel Cupid! since both you and I
Are pictured puffy, chubby-cheeked, and dense,
Give me your emblems all, or all deny!
Oh! draw your arrow back, or send your wings to fly! "