Читать книгу Terrible Tractoration, and Other Poems онлайн

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Which went by water like a saw-mill

With so much clamor, fire and fury,

It thunderstruck the judge and jury.

A syllogism, which embraces

All knotty, complicated cases,

We fabricated and applied

To every cause which could be tried.

Oft have I quench’d man’s vital spark:

“The soul’s old cottage,” cold and dark,

Again, in spite of death, our grand ill,

Illumed as one would light a candle.[25]

Display’d a mode in Latin thesis

To pick the human frame to pieces;

The parts deposit by themselves,

Like mineral specimens on shelves;—

And having scour’d off every particle

Which clogg’d the motions of the article,

The vital functions to restore

To healthier action than before.[26]

Thus, brother Ovid said or sung once,

The Gods of old folks could make young ones[27]

By process, not one whit acuter,

Than making new pots from old pewter.

So famed Aldini, erst in France,

Led dead folks down a country-dance,

And made them rigadoon and chasse

As well as when alive, I dare say!

And I once offer’d, very prettily,