from Canto XIII

31

But Adeline had not the least occasion
     For such a shield, which leaves but little merit
To virtue proper, or good education.
     Her chief resource was in her own high spirit,
Which judged mankind at their due estimation;
    And for coquetry, she disdained to wear it:
Secure of admiration, its impression
Was faint, as of an every-day possession.

32

To all she was polite without parade;
     To some she showed attention of that kind
Which flatters, but is flattery conveyed
     In such a sort as cannot leave behind
A trace unworthy either wife or maid;—
     A gentle, genial courtesy of mind,
To those who were or passed for meritorious,
Just to console sad Glory for being glorious;

33

Which is in all respects, save now and then,
     A dull and desolate appendage. Gaze
Upon the Shades of those distinguished men,
     Who were or are the puppet-shows of praise,
The praise of persecution. Gaze again
     On the most favoured; and amidst the blaze
Of sunset halos o’er the laurel-browed,
What can ye recognize?—A gilded cloud.

34

There also was of course in Adeline
     That calm Patrician polish in the address,
Which ne’er can pass the equinoctial line
     Of any thing which Nature would express;
Just as a Mandarin finds nothing fine,—
     At least his manner suffers not to guess
That any thing he views can greatly please.
Perhaps we have borrowed this from the Chinese—

35

Perhaps from Horace: his “Nil admirari“
     Was what he called the “Art of Happiness”;
An art on which the artists greatly vary,
     And have not yet attained to much success.
However, ‘tis expedient to be wary:
     Indifference certes don’t produce distress;
And rash Enthusiasm in good society
Were nothing but a moral Inebriety.

36

But Adeline was not indifferent: for
     (Now for a common place!) beneath the snow,
As a Volcano holds the lava more
    Within—et caetera. Shall I go on?—No!
I hate to hunt down a tired metaphor:
     So let the often used volcano go.
Poor thing! How frequently, by me and others,
It hath been stirred up till its smoke quite smothers.

37

I’ll have another figure in a trice:—
     What say you to a bottle of champagne?
Frozen into a very vinous ice,
     Which leaves few drops of that immortal rain,
Yet in the very centre, past all price,
    About a liquid glassful will remain;
And this is stronger than the strongest grape
Could e’er express in its expanded shape:

38

‘Tis the whole spirit brought to a quintessence;
    And thus the chilliest aspects may concentre
A hidden nectar under a cold presence.
     And such are many—though I only meant her,
From whom I now deduce these moral lessons,
     On which the Muse has always sought to enter:—
And your cold people are beyond all price,
When once you have broken their confounded ice.

39

But after all they are a North-West Passage
     Unto the glowing India of the soul;
And as the good ships sent upon that message
     Have not exactly ascertained the Pole
(Though Parry’s efforts look a lucky presage)
    Thus gentlemen may run upon a shoal;
For if the Pole’s not open, but all frost,
(A chance still) ‘tis a voyage or vessel lost.

40

And young beginners may as well commence
    With quiet cruizing o’er the ocean woman;
While those who are not beginners, should have sense
     Enough to make for port, ere Time shall summon
With his grey signal flag: and the past tense,
    The dreary “Fuimus” of all things human,
Must be declined, while life’s thin thread’s spun out
Between the gaping heir and gnawing gout.