 | Songs, comic and satyrical |  |
FOOLS-HALL.
Old
Homer nodded long ago,
And modern bards oft' sleep we know;
They doze to dream, and dream to write,
'Twas thus with me the other night.
Sleeping by all somnif'rous rules,
Methought 'twas in the hall of fools;
More properly the place to call,
The learned say, it was Fools-Hall.
And modern bards oft' sleep we know;
They doze to dream, and dream to write,
'Twas thus with me the other night.
Sleeping by all somnif'rous rules,
Methought 'twas in the hall of fools;
More properly the place to call,
The learned say, it was Fools-Hall.
121
There Billingsgate, with front of brass,
And Faction, rode on braying ass;
While scurril' Banter leer'd along,
With face buffoon, and loll'd-out tongue:
Riot there, with mouth stretch'd wide,
On a drunkard sat astride;
Spangled Lewdness op'd the ball,
And Nonsence echo'd round Fools-Hall.
And Faction, rode on braying ass;
While scurril' Banter leer'd along,
With face buffoon, and loll'd-out tongue:
Riot there, with mouth stretch'd wide,
On a drunkard sat astride;
Spangled Lewdness op'd the ball,
And Nonsence echo'd round Fools-Hall.
Credulity, the dupe of lies,
Stupidity in Thought's disguise;
Dullness came in hood and cowl,
Solemn as the broad-fac'd owl;
Quirk and quaintness hand in hand,
In Lawyer's gown, and pleader's band;
On tiptoe Pride o'erlook'd them all,—
While Scandal flew about Fools-Hall.
Stupidity in Thought's disguise;
Dullness came in hood and cowl,
Solemn as the broad-fac'd owl;
Quirk and quaintness hand in hand,
In Lawyer's gown, and pleader's band;
On tiptoe Pride o'erlook'd them all,—
While Scandal flew about Fools-Hall.
Base Scribblers arm'd with white and black,
To shine or soil, to heal or hack,
With stone-blind Ignorance stood next,
And pedants tearing Shakespeare's text:
There Prejudice the day denies,
With hands held up before his eyes;
Pert Dissipation welcom'd all,
She kept it up within Fools-Hall.
To shine or soil, to heal or hack,
With stone-blind Ignorance stood next,
And pedants tearing Shakespeare's text:
There Prejudice the day denies,
With hands held up before his eyes;
Pert Dissipation welcom'd all,
She kept it up within Fools-Hall.
With Vanity blind Zeal was pair'd;
Hypocrisy their profits shar'd;
Fraud, pimp-like, Superstition led,
But hood-wink'd to Imposture's bed:
Miss Affectation made the rout,
Debauch the sick'ning feast sat out:
While Doctors-waited Symtom's call,
Disease's vapours fill'd Fools-Hall.
Hypocrisy their profits shar'd;
Fraud, pimp-like, Superstition led,
But hood-wink'd to Imposture's bed:
Miss Affectation made the rout,
Debauch the sick'ning feast sat out:
While Doctors-waited Symtom's call,
Disease's vapours fill'd Fools-Hall.
The stupid heirs of much-muck'd land,
With wheezing gluttons throng'd the Strand;
Great sport they hop'd, they long'd to see,
Heedless what victim 'twas to be:
But wealthy dunces joke the best
On Merit, when 'tis most distress'd;
While sots, while coxcombs great and small,
Paraded, grinning, round Fools-Hall.
With wheezing gluttons throng'd the Strand;
Great sport they hop'd, they long'd to see,
Heedless what victim 'twas to be:
But wealthy dunces joke the best
On Merit, when 'tis most distress'd;
122
Paraded, grinning, round Fools-Hall.
Plain Truth appear'd, but at the sight
They shriek'd, they cou'd not bear the fright;
The Cry confin'd him in the stocks,
And Virtue prov'd not orthodox:
Honour the parish pass'd away,
And Wit was gagg'd for Folly's play;
Deserted Beauty, mock'd by all,
The beadle's whip drove from Fools-Hall.
They shriek'd, they cou'd not bear the fright;
The Cry confin'd him in the stocks,
And Virtue prov'd not orthodox:
Honour the parish pass'd away,
And Wit was gagg'd for Folly's play;
Deserted Beauty, mock'd by all,
The beadle's whip drove from Fools-Hall.
O'erwhelm'd with what I saw, I wept,
And, happily, no longer slept;
Malice, methought, had spy'd my tears,
Exposing me to Party's sneers,
Who hiss'd, and shov'd me thro' the throng;
I 'woke, as I was dragg'd along,—
Here's Women, Wine, and Health to all,
Who scorn the crouds which fill Fools-Hall.
And, happily, no longer slept;
Malice, methought, had spy'd my tears,
Exposing me to Party's sneers,
Who hiss'd, and shov'd me thro' the throng;
I 'woke, as I was dragg'd along,—
Here's Women, Wine, and Health to all,
Who scorn the crouds which fill Fools-Hall.
| Songs, comic and satyrical | |