A Metrical History of England Or, Recollections, in Rhyme, Of some of the most prominent Features in our National Chronology, from the Landing of Julius Caesar to the Commencement of the Regency, in 1812. In Two Volumes ... By Thomas Dibdin |
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 | A Metrical History of England |  |
A fourth son to the King is sent,
Edward, since 'titled Duke of Kent;
Paoli seeks asylum on our shore;
The Jesuits' Order falls to rise no more;
And, (what strange medley of historic lore!)
The Irish Pailiaments, which erst extended,
'Till each incipient reign was ended,
Are now decreed octennial and no more.
King George resumes King William's grant of lands
To Portland's Duke:—this case relief demands,
And a Bill pass'd, for common weal,
This old law maxim to repeal,
(Law latin always puts me in a worrit,)
Nullum tempus Regi occurrit;
Which means, in spite of time, the throne
May legally reclaim it's own.
Now weavers riot about silks,
And, ecce iterum! Mr. Wilkes
Committed is in Banco Regis,
(More latin!) which the mob besieges;
And Allen, guiltless of the strife,
To party fury yields his life.
In London Pleasure takes the rein,
To welcome here the royal Dane;
Nor less to greet with heart-felt mirth,
The day that gave Augusta birth.
Again we're plunged in strange convulsion,
By Wilkes' election and expulsion;
Chatham and Shelburne's resignation,
Make room for North's administration.
The Eastern native chieftains rally
Against our pow'r round Hyder Ally;
When, sad to tell, Vansittart, Scrafton, Ford,
Who to our aid in India meant to sail,
Encounter on the seas so dread a gale,
That down the vessel sank with ev'ry soul on board.
American disputes encrease,
And far remove all hope of peace;
At home the Commons meet, and chuse
Sir Fletcher Norton Speaker; who,
As History informs the Muse,
Gave them no cause their choice to rue.
Another Princess blest the royal pair,
In whose delight their people truly share;
Eliza, thy oft prov'd domestic worth,
Credits the public joy which graced thy birth.
Our docks at Plymouth set on fire,
Proclaim how hot our foemen's ire;
And a hush'd up fracas with Spain,
Gives ground to look for war again.
The cause of Wilkes, with fresh commotion,
Makes London like a troubled ocean;
One side against the other pitted,
A Mayor and Alderman committed;
Which party heats cause great regret,
Evils not much diminish'd yet.
The Queen again presents her lord a Prince,
Ernest, the King's fifth son, and since
Created Duke of Cumberland;—to say
The Muse laments the death of Gray,
Were all superfluous—when genius dies
Death proves the bitterest of enemies!
Edward, since 'titled Duke of Kent;
Paoli seeks asylum on our shore;
The Jesuits' Order falls to rise no more;
And, (what strange medley of historic lore!)
The Irish Pailiaments, which erst extended,
'Till each incipient reign was ended,
Are now decreed octennial and no more.
King George resumes King William's grant of lands
To Portland's Duke:—this case relief demands,
And a Bill pass'd, for common weal,
This old law maxim to repeal,
(Law latin always puts me in a worrit,)
Nullum tempus Regi occurrit;
Which means, in spite of time, the throne
May legally reclaim it's own.
234
And, ecce iterum! Mr. Wilkes
Committed is in Banco Regis,
(More latin!) which the mob besieges;
And Allen, guiltless of the strife,
To party fury yields his life.
In London Pleasure takes the rein,
To welcome here the royal Dane;
Nor less to greet with heart-felt mirth,
The day that gave Augusta birth.
Again we're plunged in strange convulsion,
By Wilkes' election and expulsion;
Chatham and Shelburne's resignation,
Make room for North's administration.
The Eastern native chieftains rally
Against our pow'r round Hyder Ally;
When, sad to tell, Vansittart, Scrafton, Ford,
Who to our aid in India meant to sail,
Encounter on the seas so dread a gale,
That down the vessel sank with ev'ry soul on board.
235
And far remove all hope of peace;
At home the Commons meet, and chuse
Sir Fletcher Norton Speaker; who,
As History informs the Muse,
Gave them no cause their choice to rue.
Another Princess blest the royal pair,
In whose delight their people truly share;
Eliza, thy oft prov'd domestic worth,
Credits the public joy which graced thy birth.
Our docks at Plymouth set on fire,
Proclaim how hot our foemen's ire;
And a hush'd up fracas with Spain,
Gives ground to look for war again.
The cause of Wilkes, with fresh commotion,
Makes London like a troubled ocean;
One side against the other pitted,
A Mayor and Alderman committed;
Which party heats cause great regret,
Evils not much diminish'd yet.
The Queen again presents her lord a Prince,
Ernest, the King's fifth son, and since
236
The Muse laments the death of Gray,
Were all superfluous—when genius dies
Death proves the bitterest of enemies!
| A Metrical History of England | |