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 | The Works of Thomas Love Peacock |  |
113
A MOOD OF MY OWN MIND,
OCCURRING DURING A GALE OF WIND AT MIDNIGHT, WHILE I WAS WRITING A PAPER ON THE CURRENCY, BY THE LIGHT OF TWO MOULD CANDLES.
By W. W., Esq., Distributor of Stamps.
“Quid distent æra lupinis?”
—Hor.
Much grieved am I in spirit by the news of this day's post,
Which tells me of the devil to pay with the paper money host:
'Tis feared that out of all their mass of promises to pay,
The devil alone will get his due: he'll take them at his day.
Which tells me of the devil to pay with the paper money host:
'Tis feared that out of all their mass of promises to pay,
The devil alone will get his due: he'll take them at his day.
I have a pleasant little nook secured from colds and damps,
From whence to paper money men I serve out many stamps;
From thence a fair percentage gilds my dwelling in the glen;
And therefore do I sympathise with the paper money men.
From whence to paper money men I serve out many stamps;
From thence a fair percentage gilds my dwelling in the glen;
And therefore do I sympathise with the paper money men.
I muse, I muse, for much this news my spirit doth perplex,
But whilst I muse I can't refuse a pint of double X,
Which Mrs. W. brings to me, which she herself did brew,
Oh! doubly sweet is double X from Mistress double U.
But whilst I muse I can't refuse a pint of double X,
114
Oh! doubly sweet is double X from Mistress double U.
The storm is on the mountain side, the wind is all around;
It sweeps across the lake and vale, it makes a mighty sound:
A rushing sound, that makes me think of what I've heard at sea,
“The devil in a gale of wind is as busy as a bee.”
It sweeps across the lake and vale, it makes a mighty sound:
A rushing sound, that makes me think of what I've heard at sea,
“The devil in a gale of wind is as busy as a bee.”
I fear the devil is busy now with the paper money men:
I listen to the tempest's roar through mountain pass and glen;
I hear amid the eddying blast a sound among the hills,
Which to my fancy seems the sound of bursting paper mills.
I listen to the tempest's roar through mountain pass and glen;
I hear amid the eddying blast a sound among the hills,
Which to my fancy seems the sound of bursting paper mills.
A money-grinding paper mill blows up with such a sound,
As shakes the green geese from their nests for many miles around;
Oh woe to him who seeks the mill pronouncing sternly “Pay!”
A spell like “open sesame” which evil sprites obey.
As shakes the green geese from their nests for many miles around;
Oh woe to him who seeks the mill pronouncing sternly “Pay!”
A spell like “open sesame” which evil sprites obey.
115
The word of power up-blows the mill, the miller disappears:
The shattered fragments fall in showers about the intruder's ears;
And leave no trace to mark the place of what appeared so great,
But shreds of rags, and ends of quills, and bits of copper-plate.
The shattered fragments fall in showers about the intruder's ears;
And leave no trace to mark the place of what appeared so great,
But shreds of rags, and ends of quills, and bits of copper-plate.
I love the paper money, and the paper money men;
My hundred, if they go to pot, I fear would sink to ten;
The country squires would cry “Retrench!” and then I might no doubt,
Be sent about my business; yea, even right about.
My hundred, if they go to pot, I fear would sink to ten;
The country squires would cry “Retrench!” and then I might no doubt,
Be sent about my business; yea, even right about.
I hold the paper money men say truly, when they say
They ought to pay their promises, with promises to pay;
And he is an unrighteous judge, who says they shall or may,
Be made to keep their promises in any other way.
They ought to pay their promises, with promises to pay;
And he is an unrighteous judge, who says they shall or may,
Be made to keep their promises in any other way.
The paper money goes about, by one, and two, and five,
A circulation like the blood, that keeps the land alive:
It pays the rent of country squires, and makes them think they thrive,
When else they might be lighting fires to smoke the loyal hive.
A circulation like the blood, that keeps the land alive:
It pays the rent of country squires, and makes them think they thrive,
When else they might be lighting fires to smoke the loyal hive.
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The paper money goes about: it works extremely well:
I find it buys me every thing that people have to sell:
Bread, beef, and breeches, coals and wine, and all good things in store,
The paper money buys for me: and what could gold do more?
I find it buys me every thing that people have to sell:
Bread, beef, and breeches, coals and wine, and all good things in store,
The paper money buys for me: and what could gold do more?
The promise works extremely well, so that it be but broken:
'Tis not a promise to be kept, but a solemn type and token,
A type of value gone abroad on travel long ago;
And how it's to come back again, God knows, I do not know.
'Tis not a promise to be kept, but a solemn type and token,
A type of value gone abroad on travel long ago;
And how it's to come back again, God knows, I do not know.
If ignorant impatience makes the people run for gold,
Whatever's left that paper bought must be put up and sold;
If so, perhaps they'll put up me as a purchase of the Crown;
I fear I shan't fetch sixpence, but I'm sure to be knock'd down.
Whatever's left that paper bought must be put up and sold;
If so, perhaps they'll put up me as a purchase of the Crown;
I fear I shan't fetch sixpence, but I'm sure to be knock'd down.
The promise is not to be kept, that point is very clear;
'Twas proved so by a Scotch adept who dined with me last year,
I wish instead of viands rare, which were but thrown away,
I had dined him on a bill of fare, to be eaten at Doomsday.
'Twas proved so by a Scotch adept who dined with me last year,
I wish instead of viands rare, which were but thrown away,
I had dined him on a bill of fare, to be eaten at Doomsday.
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God save the paper money and the paper money men!
God save them all from those who call to have their gold again;
God send they may be always safe against a reckoning day;
And then, God send me plenty of their promises to pay!
God save them all from those who call to have their gold again;
God send they may be always safe against a reckoning day;
And then, God send me plenty of their promises to pay!
| The Works of Thomas Love Peacock | |