14
Groups thicker yet, and from its trellis dangling,
Down swings another heavy vintage wrangling.
How fix in words that hubbub and those japes,
Buzz, chatter, shrieks, the Parliament of apes
Rent all the wood with proffering its delight
At the lost king’s return: and, heavenly sight!
There calmly sat the king on the pagoda:
That vaulted forest opening o’er his head,
A quivering stream of light upon him shed,
That like a glory round his person glowed—ah!
But what rare sight amidst it all was that?
A scarlet frock with golden frippery rigid
And violet breeks it wore, a costume pat
For kings designed: its head erect and frigid,
A hat of mighty mould and wondrous build, hid
In form and style like that so felted, wadded,
Thy brows, famed son of Corsica, once shielded,
Save that o’er this a plume stupendous nodded,
Of gilded wire, beads, feathers dyed and spangled,
While from each horn a golden tassel dangled,
’Faith, ’twas a costume worthy of a godhead!
The Parliament of apes, at all astounded,
Gazed, and full many a raptured cry resounded,
Though ’mid the tendrils, too, may be some blockhead
A stupid smile at that quaint little frock hid.
Until at length from all sides thundering ran:
“Be welcome home, prince, mighty Hanuman.”
Then Apedom’s chief took off the hat and, bowing,
Opened the Session with a speech as glowing.
“To Vishnu praise! and hearty thanks to thee,
Great ancestor, for sure thine interceding
With him who rules yon cloud-wrought canopy
