 | Miscellaneous writings of the late Dr. Maginn |  |
193
LAMENT UPON APSLEY HOUSE.
What house is yonder, which I with wonder
See smashed with plunder and paving-stones—
Its shutters shattered, its windows battered,
All tore and tattered, like Davy Jones?
O! I see it clear O!—it is the Hero
Who beat old Boney so clear and clane;
The great old Fighter, and smart Delighter,
Who with flying banners won the plain.
See smashed with plunder and paving-stones—
Its shutters shattered, its windows battered,
All tore and tattered, like Davy Jones?
O! I see it clear O!—it is the Hero
Who beat old Boney so clear and clane;
The great old Fighter, and smart Delighter,
Who with flying banners won the plain.
There was Alexander the bould commander,
And Mister Hannibal so fine:
But if the Rat-catcher was their body-snatcher,
By all that's good 't is he would shine!
And Julius Cæsar who, like Nebuchadnezzar,
Was quite uncommon in his day,
But I'd lay you a wager that our old stager,
The hook-nosed Duke would have his way.
And Mister Hannibal so fine:
But if the Rat-catcher was their body-snatcher,
By all that's good 't is he would shine!
And Julius Cæsar who, like Nebuchadnezzar,
Was quite uncommon in his day,
But I'd lay you a wager that our old stager,
The hook-nosed Duke would have his way.
194
Great is my sadness, and small my gladness,
When I perceive his shutters shut—
Smathered and battered, besieged and tattered,
By the blackguards who are now on fut.
And O, by Japers! what sort of capers,
You grenadiers, it was yours to show,
When the riffle-raffle of the London city
Smashed all the panes of our old Beau!
When I perceive his shutters shut—
Smathered and battered, besieged and tattered,
By the blackguards who are now on fut.
And O, by Japers! what sort of capers,
You grenadiers, it was yours to show,
When the riffle-raffle of the London city
Smashed all the panes of our old Beau!
Where were the Guards, sir, when the blackguards, sir,
Smashed down the panes of the Dear Duke?
If Goll and Osgor were here to the fore,
'T is they would never on such stuff look;
And there 's Brien Boroo, in battle lading—
'T is he'd for aid in this here fight,
And smash the villains, like damned civilians,
Over and over, from left to right.
Smashed down the panes of the Dear Duke?
If Goll and Osgor were here to the fore,
'T is they would never on such stuff look;
And there 's Brien Boroo, in battle lading—
'T is he'd for aid in this here fight,
And smash the villains, like damned civilians,
Over and over, from left to right.
Like hungry hawks on a March-day morning,
A-slating small birds upon a hill,
'T is they're the covies who are adorning
That most particular place they're going to kill.
There was great rejoicing, and loud-mouthed voicing,
Bawling away about the peace;
And in the king's dominions it fled about with pinions,
A most plasing remonstrance in the place.
A-slating small birds upon a hill,
'T is they're the covies who are adorning
That most particular place they're going to kill.
There was great rejoicing, and loud-mouthed voicing,
Bawling away about the peace;
And in the king's dominions it fled about with pinions,
A most plasing remonstrance in the place.
There was wondrous beaming and branch-lights flaming,
Sweet music a-shameing bagpipe and flute;
The windows they were scented, the people were contented,
Every thing was happy—both mankind and brute.
The deafman and the cripple both together they did tipple,
And Erin was rejoicing to the tune of her “go bray;”
And 'tis I am hard in heart here, to think that you, Duke Arthur,
Are a smash-windowed sort of character this blessed day.
Sweet music a-shameing bagpipe and flute;
The windows they were scented, the people were contented,
Every thing was happy—both mankind and brute.
The deafman and the cripple both together they did tipple,
And Erin was rejoicing to the tune of her “go bray;”
And 'tis I am hard in heart here, to think that you, Duke Arthur,
Are a smash-windowed sort of character this blessed day.
| Miscellaneous writings of the late Dr. Maginn | |