Poetry John Keats (best thriller novels of all time txt) 📖

slender wand officially reveal’d;
Then black gnomes scattering sixpences like rain;
Then pages three and three; and next, slave-held
The Imaian ’scutcheon bright,⁠—one mouse in argent field. LXVI

Gentlemen pensioners next; and after them,
A troop of winged Janizaries flew;
Then slaves, as presents bearing many a gem;
Then twelve physicians fluttering two and two;
And next a chaplain in a cassock new;
Then Lords in waiting; then (what head not reels
For pleasure?)⁠—the fair Princess in full view,
Borne upon wings,⁠—and very pleased she feels
To have such splendour dance attendance at her heels.

LXVII

For there was more magnificence behind:
She waved her handkerchief. “Ah, very grand!”
Cried Elfinan, and closed the window-blind;
“And, Hum, we must not shilly-shally stand,⁠—
Adieu! adieu! I’m off for Angle-land!
I say, old Hocus, have you such a thing
About you,⁠—feel your pockets, I command,⁠—
I want, this instant, an invisible ring,⁠—
Thank you, old mummy!⁠—now securely I take wing.”

LXVIII

Then Elfinan swift vaulted from the floor,
And lighted graceful on the window-sill;
Under one arm the magic book he bore,
The other he could wave about at will;
Pale was his face, he still look’d very ill:
He bow’d at Bellanaine, and said⁠—“Poor Bell!
Farewell! farewell! and if for ever! still
For ever fare thee well!”⁠—and then he fell
A laughing!⁠—snapp’d his fingers!⁠—shame it is to tell!

LXIX

“By ’r Lady! he is gone!” cries Hum, “and I,⁠—
(I own it),⁠—have made too free with his wine;
Old Crafticant will smoke me. By the by!
This room is full of jewels as a mine,⁠—
Dear valuable creatures, how ye shine!
Sometime to-day I must contrive a minute,
If Mercury propitiously incline,
To examine his scrutoire, and see what’s in it,
For of superfluous diamonds I as well may thin it.

LXX

“The Emperor’s horrid bad; yes, that’s my cue!”
Some histories say that this was Hum’s last speech;
That, being fuddled, he went reeling through
The corridor, and scarce upright could reach
The stair-head; that being glutted as a leech,
And used, as we ourselves have just now said,
To manage stairs reversely, like a peach
Too ripe, he fell, being puzzled in his head
With liquor and the staircase: verdict⁠—found stone dead.

LXXI

This, as a falsehood, Crafticanto treats;
And as his style is of strange elegance,
Gentle and tender, full of soft conceits,
(Much like our Boswell’s,) we will take a glance
At his sweet prose, and, if we can, make dance
His woven periods into careless rhyme;
O, little faery Pegasus! rear⁠—prance⁠—
Trot round the quarto⁠—ordinary time!
March, little Pegasus, with pawing hoof sublime!

LXXII

“Well, let us see⁠—tenth book and chapter nine,”⁠—
Thus Crafticant pursues his diary:⁠—
“ ’Twas twelve o’clock at night, the weather fine,
Latitude thirty-six; our scouts descry
A flight of starlings making rapidly
Towards Thibet. Mem.:⁠—birds fly in the night;
From twelve to half-past⁠—wings not fit to fly
For a thick fog⁠—the Princess sulky quite:
Call’d for an extra shawl, and gave her nurse a bite.

LXXIII

“Five minutes before one⁠—brought down a moth
With my new double-barrel⁠—stew’d the thighs,
And made a very tolerable broth⁠—
Princess turn’d dainty, to our great surprise,
Alter’d her mind, and thought it very nice:
Seeing her pleasant, tried her with a pun,
She frown’d; a monstrous owl across us flies
About this time,⁠—a sad old figure of fun;
Bad omen⁠—this new match can’t be a happy one.

LXXIV

“From two to half-past, dusky way we made,
Above the plains of Gobi,⁠—desert, bleak;
Beheld afar off, in the hooded shade
Of darkness, a great mountain (strange to speak),
Spitting, from forth its sulphur-baken peak,
A fan-shaped burst of blood-red, arrowy fire,
Turban’d with smoke, which still away did reek,
Solid and black from that eternal pyre,
Upon the laden winds that scantly could respire.

LXXV

“Just upon three o’clock, a falling star
Created an alarm among our troop,
Kill’d a man-cook, a page, and broke a jar,
A tureen, and three dishes, at one swoop,
Then passing by the Princess, singed her hoop:
Could not conceive what Coralline was at,
She clapp’d her hands three times, and cried out ‘Whoop!’
Some strange Imaian custom. A large bat
Came sudden ’fore my face, and brush’d against my hat.

LXXVI

“Five minutes thirteen seconds after three,
Far in the west a mighty fire broke out,
Conjectured, on the instant, it might be
The city of Balk⁠—’twas Balk beyond all doubt:
A griffin, wheeling here and there about,
Kept reconnoitering us⁠—doubled our guard⁠—
Lighted our torches, and kept up a shout,
Till he sheer’d off⁠—the Princess very scared⁠—
And many on their marrow-bones for death prepared.

LXXVII

“At half-past three arose the cheerful moon⁠—
Bivouack’d for four minutes on a cloud⁠—
Where from the earth we heard a lively tune
Of tambourines and pipes, severe and loud,
While on a flowery lawn a brilliant crowd
Cinque-parted danced, some half asleep reposed
Beneath the green-faned cedars, some did shroud
In silken tents, and ’mid light fragrance dozed,
Or on the open turf their soothed eyelids closed.

LXXVIII

“Dropp’d my gold watch, and kill’d a kettledrum⁠—
It went for apoplexy⁠—foolish folks!⁠—
Left it to pay the piper⁠—a good sum⁠—
(I’ve got a conscience, maugre people’s jokes,)
To scrape a little favour; ’gan to coax
Her Highness’ pug-dog⁠—got a sharp rebuff⁠—
She wish’d a game at whist⁠—made three revokes⁠—
Turn’d from myself, her partner, in a huff;
His Majesty will know her temper time enough.

LXXIX

“She cried for chess⁠—I play’d a game with her⁠—
Castled her king with such a vixen look,
It bodes ill to his Majesty⁠—(refer
To the second chapter of my fortieth book,
And see what hoity-toity airs she took).
At half-past four the morn essay’d to beam⁠—
Saluted, as we pass’d, an early rook,⁠—
The Princess fell asleep, and, in her dream,
Talk’d of one Master Hubert, deep in her esteem.

LXXX

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