130
In the gift shirt Deianeira sent,
Dipt in the blood of Nessus, just to keep
The sun off; or toast cheese for Beelzebub,
That were a cool employment to this journey
Along a road whose white intensity
Would now make platina uncongelable
Like quicksilver.
Were it midnight, I should walk
Self-lanthorn'd, saturate with sun-beams. Jove!
O gentle Jove! have mercy, and once more
Kick that obdurate Phœbus out of heaven!
Give Boreas the wind-cholic, till he roars
For cardamum, and drinks down peppermint,
Making what's left as precious as Tokay.
Send Mercury to salivate the sky
Till it dissolves in rain. O gentle Jove!
But some such little kindness to a wretch
Who feels his marrow spoiling his best coat, . .
Who swells with calorique as if a Prester
Had leavened every limb with poison-yeast, . .
Lend me thine eagle just to flap his wings,
And fan me, and I will build temples to thee,
And turn true Pagan.
Dipt in the blood of Nessus, just to keep
The sun off; or toast cheese for Beelzebub,
That were a cool employment to this journey
Along a road whose white intensity
Would now make platina uncongelable
Like quicksilver.
Were it midnight, I should walk
Self-lanthorn'd, saturate with sun-beams. Jove!
O gentle Jove! have mercy, and once more
Kick that obdurate Phœbus out of heaven!
Give Boreas the wind-cholic, till he roars
For cardamum, and drinks down peppermint,
Making what's left as precious as Tokay.
Send Mercury to salivate the sky
Till it dissolves in rain. O gentle Jove!
But some such little kindness to a wretch
Who feels his marrow spoiling his best coat, . .
Who swells with calorique as if a Prester
Had leavened every limb with poison-yeast, . .
Lend me thine eagle just to flap his wings,
And fan me, and I will build temples to thee,
And turn true Pagan.
