 | Poems by John Godfrey Saxe. Complete in one volume : thirty-fifth edition |  |
Tell not, ye Rabbies of the Whiggish creed,
Who trim your doctrines to your party's need,
And let your lips with fluent phrases move
To censure measures which your acts approve,—
Tell not, except to credulous marines,
How you abhor our recent warlike scenes,
And don't again repeat that precious joke
Which gives the odium all to Colonel Polk,
For he may find, who probes the matter well,
At least a dozen Colonels in the shell!
Pray just review the leaders of the bands,
And, as you pass them, let them raise their hands;
Count well the blades that glitter in the sun,
And mark their gallant bearers, one by one,—
For every Whig whose sword your eye may catch,
You'll scarcely find a ‘Loco-foco’ match!
Who trim your doctrines to your party's need,
And let your lips with fluent phrases move
To censure measures which your acts approve,—
Tell not, except to credulous marines,
How you abhor our recent warlike scenes,
And don't again repeat that precious joke
Which gives the odium all to Colonel Polk,
For he may find, who probes the matter well,
At least a dozen Colonels in the shell!
Pray just review the leaders of the bands,
And, as you pass them, let them raise their hands;
Count well the blades that glitter in the sun,
And mark their gallant bearers, one by one,—
For every Whig whose sword your eye may catch,
You'll scarcely find a ‘Loco-foco’ match!
We 're all alike,—no thinking man defines
The people's temper by their party lines.
With bright exceptions, few and far between,
Like spots of verdure in a winter scene,
From Rio Grandé to Penobscot's flood,
The whole vast nation loves the smell of blood!
The people's temper by their party lines.
With bright exceptions, few and far between,
Like spots of verdure in a winter scene,
From Rio Grandé to Penobscot's flood,
The whole vast nation loves the smell of blood!
110
But wars cost money; and though fond of wars,
We worship Mammon quite as much as Mars,
And so consent the battle to forego,
And wait till Interest justifies the blow.
Meantime, though Mars upon the shelf is laid,
We yet can summon Draco to our aid.
The cockpit 's vulgar; and the pleasant game
Of baiting bears is reckoned much the same;
‘The manly Ring’ is held improper, too;
The Duel 's wicked, and will never do;
'T is plain to see as any comet's tail,
That war 's immoral on so small a scale!
But Draco 's grave, decorous, and discreet,
And gives diversions in a mode so neat,
‘The most fastidious’—in the showman phrase—
Can't be offended with his bloody ways.
For, like the doctors, though he cut and bleed,
He shows a broad diploma for the deed!
As boys expend their zoölogic rage
On annual tigers in a travelling cage,
So, by the strictest pathologic rule,
A monthly hanging keeps the nation cool!
We worship Mammon quite as much as Mars,
And so consent the battle to forego,
And wait till Interest justifies the blow.
Meantime, though Mars upon the shelf is laid,
We yet can summon Draco to our aid.
The cockpit 's vulgar; and the pleasant game
Of baiting bears is reckoned much the same;
‘The manly Ring’ is held improper, too;
The Duel 's wicked, and will never do;
'T is plain to see as any comet's tail,
That war 's immoral on so small a scale!
But Draco 's grave, decorous, and discreet,
And gives diversions in a mode so neat,
‘The most fastidious’—in the showman phrase—
Can't be offended with his bloody ways.
For, like the doctors, though he cut and bleed,
He shows a broad diploma for the deed!
As boys expend their zoölogic rage
On annual tigers in a travelling cage,
So, by the strictest pathologic rule,
A monthly hanging keeps the nation cool!
| Poems by John Godfrey Saxe. Complete in one volume : thirty-fifth edition | |