Lost Bab ballads :: :: University of Virginia Library

I'm an excellent Duke in my way:
I have picked up some tricks of gentility;
I can talk with refined affability
To people of middle-class clay.
Without a suggestion of shame,
I can throw off Society's fetters,
And patronize science and letters;
Though I can scarcely spell my own name.
I can run, if I please, into debt
(I know of some eminent Graces
Who sit in conspicuous places
Who never paid any one yet).
My station exempts me from blame,
And all the inferior classes
(Whose charity nothing surpasses

When they deal with a Duke) will exclaim—
“You see, he's a person of rank;
If he does now and then play a prank,
He's a dashing young fellow,
When older he'll mellow:
So many temptations
Unknown to our stations
Beset a young fellow of rank!”

However addicted to range,
I dispose of a dozen Church livings;
And no one has any misgivings,
And no one considers it strange.
No question can ever arise
That I cannot immediately settle,
For peers of my popular mettle
Are born so exceedingly wise.
My expressions need never be minced;
A duke is by nature omniscient.
His simple opinion's sufficient,
And everybody's convinced.
His rank he may drag through the mud;
If his lie is depravity's essence,
After all, it's the mere effervescence
Of uncorked aërated blue blood—
For, you see, he's a person of rank;
If he does now and then play a prank,
He's a dashing young fellow,
When older he'll mellow;
So many temptations
Unknown to our stations
Beset a young fellow of rank!