wing!

CCLXIV.

There's warmth in a pair of double soles;
As well as a double allowance of coals--
In a coat that is double-breasted--
In double windows and double doors;
And a double U wind is blest by scores
For its warmth to the tender-chested.

CCLXV.

There's a twofold sweetness in double pipes;
And a double barrel and double snipes
Give the sportsman a duplicate pleasure;
There's double safety in double locks:
And double letters bring cash for the box:
And all the world knows that double knocks,
Are gentility's double measure.

CCLXVI.

There's a double sweetness in double rhymes,
And a double at Whist and a double Times
In profit are certainly double--
By doubling, the Hare contrives to escape;
And all seamen delight in a doubled Cape,
And a double-reef'd topsail in trouble.

CCLXVII.

There's a double chuck at a double chin,
And of course there's a double pleasure therein,
If the parties were brought to telling:

And however our Dennises take offence,
A double meaning shows double sense;
And if proverbs tell truth,
A double tooth
Is Wisdom's adopted dwelling!

CCLXVIII.

But double wisdom, and pleasure, and sense,
Beauty, respect, strength, comfort, and thence
Through whatever the list discovers,
They are all in the double blessedness summ'd,
Of what was formerly doubled-drumm'd,
The Marriage of two true Lovers!

CCLXIX.

Now the Kilmansegg Moon,--it must be told--
Though instead of silver it tipp'd with gold--
Shone rather wan, and distant, and cold,
And before its days were at thirty,
Such gloomy clouds began to collect,
With an ominous ring of ill effect,
As gave but too much cause to expect
Such weather as seamen call dirty!

CCLXX.

And yet the moon was the "Young May Moon,"
And the scented hawthorn had blossom'd soon,
And the thrush and the blackbird were singing--
The snow-white lambs were skipping in play,
And the bee was humming a tune all day
To flowers, as welcome as flowers in May,
And the trout in the stream was springing!

CCLXXI.

But what were the hues of the blooming earth,
Its scents--its sounds--or the music and mirth
Of its furr'd or its feather'd creatures,
To a Pair in the world's last sordid stage,
Who had never look'd into Nature's page,
And had strange ideas of a Golden Age,
Without any Arcadian features?

CCLXXII.

And what were joys of the pastoral kind
To a Bride--town-made--with