The political and occasional poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed ::

Old Lady of Chancery, why do you tarry
So long on the throne of your vanishing reign?
The neighbourhood titters whene'er you miscarry,
And hints that your labours are labours in vain.

There is one thing at least, which your closest endeavour
Will hardly discover a reason to doubt,
That be candles and statesmen how wicked soever,
All candles and statesmen at last must go out.

When girls in their summer begin to grow willing,
Their grandmothers think about making their wills;
And oh, you had better be done with your billing,
Before your old lovers say “no” to your bills!

'Tis all very pretty, when love or defiance
Is breathed from the lips of a younger coquette;
When Peel is seduced by the Holy Alliance,
Or Robinson flirts with the National Debt.

But it is not for you, when the grave gapes before you,
To be scaring gilt stars with those wrinkles of awe;

Giving garters and ribbands to fools who adore you,
And stealing silk gowns from your daughters-in-law.

Sweet Gifford, I grant, as your tenderness taught her,
May flaunt in rich suits, and be kind to appeals;
And dabble her scull in the dirtiest water,
Like a Greenlander, all for the love of the seals;

But you—put your salary up in your full sack,
And go to your grave with a gentle decline;
Take a nightcap of woollens instead of a wool-sack,
And leave to George Canning his roses and wine.

University of Virginia Library

VII. ODE TO THE CHANCELLOR.