He would have hanged himself for very spite,
And she, blessed woman, might have had the honor
Of some neat "paragraphs"—worth all the lays
That Judah's minstrel warbled in her praise.
xiv.
Th' ascendant at our merchant's natal hour
Was bright with better destiny—its aid
Led him to pluck within the classic bower
Of bulletins, the blossoms of true knowledge,
And Lang supplied the loss of school and college.
xv.
Than others could; and to distinguish well
The different signals, whether ship or schooner,
Hoisted at Staten Island; and to tell
The change of wind, and of his neighbor's fortunes,
And, best of all—he there learned self-importance.
xvi.
From change of scene; for near his domicil
He of the pair of polished lamps then lived,
And in my hero's promenades, at will,
Could he behold them burning—and their flame
Kindled within his breast the love of fame—
