The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore Collected by Himself. In Ten Volumes |
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THE INSURRECTION OF THE PAPERS.
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 | The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore |  |
157
THE INSURRECTION OF THE PAPERS.
A DREAM.
“It would be impossible for his Royal Highness to disengage his person from the accumulating pile of papers that encompassed it.”
—Lord Castlereagh's
Speech upon Colonel M'Mahon's Appointment, April 14. 1812.
Last night I toss'd and turn'd in bed,
But could not sleep—at length I said,
“I'll think of Viscount C*stl*r---gh,
“And of his speeches—that's the way.”
And so it was, for instantly
I slept as sound as sound could be.
And then I dreamt—so dread a dream!
Fuseli has no such theme;
Lewis never wrote or borrow'd
Any horror, half so horrid!
But could not sleep—at length I said,
“I'll think of Viscount C*stl*r---gh,
“And of his speeches—that's the way.”
And so it was, for instantly
I slept as sound as sound could be.
And then I dreamt—so dread a dream!
Fuseli has no such theme;
158
Any horror, half so horrid!
Methought the Pr---e, in whisker'd state,
Before me at his breakfast sate;
On one side lay unread Petitions,
On t'other, Hints from five Physicians;
Here tradesmen's bills,—official papers,
Notes from my Lady, drams for vapours—
There plans of saddles, tea and toast,
Death-warrants and the Morning Post.
Before me at his breakfast sate;
On one side lay unread Petitions,
On t'other, Hints from five Physicians;
Here tradesmen's bills,—official papers,
Notes from my Lady, drams for vapours—
There plans of saddles, tea and toast,
Death-warrants and the Morning Post.
When lo! the Papers, one and all,
As if at some magician's call,
Began to flutter of themselves
From desk and table, floor and shelves,
And, cutting each some different capers,
Advanc'd, oh jacobinic papers!
As though they said, “Our sole design is
“To suffocate his Royal Highness!”
The Leader of this vile sedition
Was a huge Catholic Petition,
With grievances so full and heavy,
It threaten'd worst of all the bevy.
Then Common-Hall Addresses came
In swaggering sheets, and took their aim
Right at the R*g---t's well-dress'd head,
As if determin'd to be read.
Next Tradesmen's Bills began to fly,
And Tradesmen's Bills, we know, mount high;
Nay ev'n Death-warrants thought they'd best
Be lively too, and join the rest.
As if at some magician's call,
Began to flutter of themselves
From desk and table, floor and shelves,
And, cutting each some different capers,
Advanc'd, oh jacobinic papers!
As though they said, “Our sole design is
“To suffocate his Royal Highness!”
The Leader of this vile sedition
Was a huge Catholic Petition,
With grievances so full and heavy,
It threaten'd worst of all the bevy.
159
In swaggering sheets, and took their aim
Right at the R*g---t's well-dress'd head,
As if determin'd to be read.
Next Tradesmen's Bills began to fly,
And Tradesmen's Bills, we know, mount high;
Nay ev'n Death-warrants thought they'd best
Be lively too, and join the rest.
But, oh the basest of defections!
His Letter about “predilections”—
His own dear Letter, void of grace,
Now flew up in its parent's face!
Shock'd with this breach of filial duty,
He just could murmur “et Tu Brute?”
Then sunk, subdued upon the floor
At Fox's bust, to rise no more!
His Letter about “predilections”—
His own dear Letter, void of grace,
Now flew up in its parent's face!
Shock'd with this breach of filial duty,
He just could murmur “et Tu Brute?”
Then sunk, subdued upon the floor
At Fox's bust, to rise no more!
I wak'd—and pray'd, with lifted hand,
“Oh! never may this Dream prove true;
“Though paper overwhelms the land,
“Let it not crush the Sovereign too!”
“Oh! never may this Dream prove true;
“Though paper overwhelms the land,
“Let it not crush the Sovereign too!”
| The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore | |