1829.] Dick Denlap. 151 
dence, that he felt wonderfully exhilarated by the occurrences of the 
morning; that he had had no previous notion of his great powers of 
activity and endurance, which he had now no doubt would soon enable 
him to cast away all superfluous flesh, and with it all superfluous sorrow. 
<« I must own,” added he, “it willbe rather unkind to deprive Aircastle 
and the rest of my facetious friends of their moveable Joe Miller ; but 
since I find the enemy is to be got rid of, I don’t see why I should 
continue to drag about a fat folio jest book, merely for their accommo- 
dation. As to how much of my outward man I ought to throw off, I 
shall take an early opportunity of requesting the private opinion of the 
widow, and make a compromise between her taste and my own ; for, 
between ourselves, her bright eyes, amiable manners, and solid turn of 
thinking, have made an impression on me, which can be removed only 
by death—or marriage !” 
LIFE. 
Wuar art thou, Life? Pale Vanity! 
Dim Shadow of the things to be! 
Weak as the wind, and sightless as the grave! 
Thy gold but yellow dross; thy fame, 
Thy pomp and pride, an idiot’s game— 
The rattling of the chains that load the slave. 
Thou, and the scenes that round thee rise, 
What are ye? Loose uncertainties : 
Yet still we hug ourselves with rash presage 
Of future days serene and long— 
Of pleasures fresh, and ripe, and strong— 
And active youth, and slow-declining age. 
Like a fair prospect, still we make 
The future shapes of beauty take: 
First verdant gardens rise and pansied fields, 
Then lofty groves and bowers appear, 
Then rills and winding rivers clear, 
While change of landscape still new pleasure yields. 
Farther bold castles we espy, 
Where lordly wealth and honours lie ; 
Beyond a gorgeous picture fills the stage, 
Till the remoter distance shrouds 
The plains with hills, the hills with clouds ; 
There we place Death behind old shivering Age. 
When Death, alas! perhaps too nigh, 
In the next hedge does skulking lie, 
There plants his engines, there lets fly his dart, 
Which, while we ramble without fear, 
Will meet us in our full career, 
And drive the world’s wild follies from our heart. 
; 
