The Wiccamical Chaplet a selection of original poetry; comprising smaller poems, serious and comic; classical trifles; sonnets; inscriptions and epitaphs; songs and ballads; mock-heroics, epigrams, fragments, &c. &c. Edited by George Huddesford |
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 | The Wiccamical Chaplet |  |
194
FELICITATION
To the Public on the Return of Peace and Plenty,
By the exuberant Mr. Titus Tagg, Laureate and Improvisatore to the Poet's Corner of the --- Evening Post.
[_]
(The two first following Couplets were displayed on a Transparency at Mr. Tagg's Garret Window on the Night of the Illumination for signing the Preliminaries of Peace in 1801. The dimensions of the Window were too limited for the display of the Remainder.)
Let's drink their healths, by way of motto,
“Here's to Lord Hawkesbury and Monsieur Otto!”
Since I approve the Peace in toto
May he that breaks it first be shot-o!
'Twill in his 'scutcheon make a blot-o:
'Tis Peace that makes us boil the Pot-o,
And cut up Sirloins piping-hot-o.
Now to Forestallers I cry, “What, ho!
“Your grain, whether you will or not-o,
“At length our markets must be brought to,
“And soon you'll not be worth a groat-o.”
“Here's to Lord Hawkesbury and Monsieur Otto!”
Since I approve the Peace in toto
May he that breaks it first be shot-o!
'Twill in his 'scutcheon make a blot-o:
'Tis Peace that makes us boil the Pot-o,
And cut up Sirloins piping-hot-o.
Now to Forestallers I cry, “What, ho!
“Your grain, whether you will or not-o,
“At length our markets must be brought to,
“And soon you'll not be worth a groat-o.”
Their desp'rate cause must stink and rot-o
Against Old England's weal who plot-o;
Then, if they can't abide this spot-o,
Botany Bay, Sirs, let 'em trot to.
Against Old England's weal who plot-o;
Then, if they can't abide this spot-o,
Botany Bay, Sirs, let 'em trot to.
195
But let each man who knows what's what-o,
Each married dame, and each old Trott-o,
As yellow as an apricotto,
Who ne'er was ask'd to tye the knot-o,
Exult, from palace to the cot-o,
For we shall see rare times, I wot-o,
For which I shout and strain my throat-o;
And therefore take a dram I ought to
To lubricate my Epiglotto.—
Claret or Port, if I had got-o,
Vinous libations they should flow to
Lord Hawkesbury and Monsieur Otto:
But, tho' I soar in rhime and thought too,
I eat cow-heels and porter poto.
Each married dame, and each old Trott-o,
As yellow as an apricotto,
Who ne'er was ask'd to tye the knot-o,
Exult, from palace to the cot-o,
For we shall see rare times, I wot-o,
For which I shout and strain my throat-o;
And therefore take a dram I ought to
To lubricate my Epiglotto.—
Claret or Port, if I had got-o,
Vinous libations they should flow to
Lord Hawkesbury and Monsieur Otto:
But, tho' I soar in rhime and thought too,
I eat cow-heels and porter poto.
Given, diabolunculo
to,
From my aërial Grubstreet Grotto.
From my aërial Grubstreet Grotto.
| The Wiccamical Chaplet | |