XII.

I can't but say it is an awkward sight
To see one's native land receding through
The growing waters; it unmans one quite,
Especially when life is rather new:

I recollect Great Britain's coast looks white,
But almost every other country's blue,
When gazing on them, mystified by distance,
We enter on our nautical existence.

XIII.

So Juan stood, bewilder'd, on the deck:

The wind sung, cordage strain'd, and sailors swore,

And the ship creak'd, the town became a speck,
From which away so fair and fast they bore.
The best of remedies is a beef-steak

Against sea-sickness; try it, sir, before
You sneer, and I assure you this is true,
For I have found it answer-so may you.

XIV.

Don Juan stood, and, gazing from the stern,
Beheld his native Spain receding far :

First partings form a lesson hard to learn,
Even nations feel this when they go to war;
There is a sort of unexprest concern,

A kind of shock that sets one's heart ajar: At leaving even the most unpleasant people And places, one keeps looking at the steeple.

XV.

But Juan had got many things to leave,

His mother, and a mistress, and no wife, So that he had much better cause to grieve Than many persons more advanced in life; And if we now and then a sigh must heave

At quitting even those we quit in strife, No doubt we weep for those the heart endears— That is, till deeper griefs congeal our tears.

XVI.

So Juan wept, as wept the captive Jews

I'd

By Babel's waters, still remembering Sion: weep, but mine is not a weeping Muse,

And such light griefs are not a thing to die on;

Young men should travel, if but to amuse

Themselves; and the next time their servants tie on

Behind their carriages their new portmanteau,

Perhaps it may be lined with this my canto.

XVII.

And Juan wept, and much he sigh'd and thought,
While his salt tears dropp'd into the salt sea,
"Sweets to the sweet;" (I like so much to quote;
You must excuse this extract, 'tis where she,
The Queen of Denmark, for Ophelia brought
Flowers to the grave); and, sobbing often, he
Reflected on his present situation,

And seriously resolved on reformation.

66

XVIII.

Farewell, my Spain! a long farewell!" he cried, "Perhaps I may revisit thee no more,

"But die, as many an exiled heart hath died,
"Of its own thirst to see again thy shore:
"Farewell, where Guadalquivir's waters glide!
"Farewell, my mother! and, since all is o'er,
66 Farewell, too dearest Julia!—(here he drew
Her letter out again, and read it through.)

XIX.

"And oh! if e'er I should forget, I swear

"But that's impossible, and cannot be—

"Sooner shall this blue ocean melt to air,

"Sooner shall earth resolve itself to sea, Than I resign thine image, Oh! my fair! "Or think of any thing excepting thee;

"A mind diseased no remedy can physic

(Here the ship gave a lurch, and he grew sea-sick.)

XX.

"Sooner shall heaven kiss earth-(here he fell sicker) “Oh, Julia! what is every other woe?—

66

'(For God's sake let me have a glass of liquor,

66 Pedro, Battista, help me down below.)

"Julia, my love!—(you rascal, Pedro, quicker)— “Oh Julia!—(this curst vessel pitches so)— "Beloved Julia, hear me still beseeching!"

(Here he grew inarticulate with retching.)

XXI.

He felt that chilling heaviness of heart,
Or rather stomach, which, alas! attends,
Beyond the best apothecary's art,

The loss of love, the treachery of friends,
Or death of those we dote on, when a part

Of us dies with them as each fond hope ends : No doubt he would have been much more pathetic, But the sea acted as a strong emetic.

K