UTOPIA.

——“I can dream, sir, If I eat well and sleep well.” —The Mad Lover.

If I could scare the light away, No sun should ever shine; If I could bid the clouds obey, Thick darkness should be mine: Where’er my weary footsteps roam, I hate whate’er I see; And Fancy builds a fairer home In slumber’s hour for me. I had a vision yesternight Of a lovelier land than this, Where heaven was clothed in warmth and light, Where earth was full of bliss; And every tree was rich with fruits, And every field with flowers, And every zephyr wakened lutes In passion-haunted bowers. I clambered up a lofty rock, And did not find it steep; I read through a page and a half of Locke, And did not fall asleep; I said whate’er I may but feel, I paid whate’er I owe; And I danced one day an Irish reel, With the gout in every toe. And I was more than six feet high, And fortunate, and wise; And I had a voice of melody And beautiful black eyes; My horses like the lightning went, My barrels carried true, And I held my tongue at an argument, And winning cards at loo. I saw an old Italian priest Who spoke without disguise; I dined with a judge who swore, like Best, All libels should be lies: I bought for a penny a twopenny loaf, Of wheat, and nothing more; I danced with a female philosophe, Who was not quite a bore. The kitchens there had richer roast, The sheep wore whiter wool; I read a witty Morning Post, And an innocent John Bull: The gaolers had nothing at all to do, The hangman looked forlorn, And the Peers had passed a vote or two For freedom of trade in corn. There was a crop of wheat, which grew Where plough was never brought; There was a noble lord, who knew What he was never taught: A scheme appeared in the Gazette For a lottery with no blanks; And a Parliament had lately met, Without a single Bankes. And there were kings who never went To cuffs for half-a-crown; And lawyers who were eloquent Without a wig and gown; And sportsmen who forebore to praise Their greyhounds and their guns; And poets who deserved the bays, And did not dread the duns. And boroughs were bought without a test, And no man feared the Pope; And the Irish cabins were all possessed Of liberty and soap; And the Chancellor, feeling very sick, Had just resigned the seals; And a clever little Catholic Was hearing Scotch appeals. I went one day to a Court of Law Where a fee had been refused; And a Public School I really saw Where the rod was never used; And the sugar still was very sweet, Though all the slaves were free; And all the folk in Downing Street Had learnt the rule of three. There love had never a fear or doubt, December breathed like June: The Prima Donna ne’er was out Of temper—or of tune; The streets were paved with mutton pies, Potatoes ate like pine; Nothing looked black but a woman’s eyes; Nothing grew old but wine. It was an idle dream; but thou, The worshipped one, wert there, With thy dark clear eyes and beaming brow, White neck and floating hair; And oh, I had an honest heart, And a house of Portland stone; And thou wert dear, as still thou art, And more than dear, my own! Oh bitterness!—the morning broke Alike for boor and bard; And thou wert married when I woke, And all the rest was marred: And toil and trouble, noise and steam, Came back with the coming ray; And, if I thought the dead could dream, I’d hang myself to-day!