The political and occasional poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed Edited, with notes, by Sir George Young |
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XXXIV. | XXXIV.
THE WASHING OF THE BLACKAMOOR. |
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The political and occasional poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed | ||
231
XXXIV. THE WASHING OF THE BLACKAMOOR.
“Vivant qui nigra in candida vertunt.”—Juv.
There was a little man,
And he had a little plan
To set the West Indies all right, O;
And quoth he, “The House I'll teach
In a pretty little speech,
How to wash the Blackamoor white, O.”
And he had a little plan
To set the West Indies all right, O;
232
In a pretty little speech,
How to wash the Blackamoor white, O.”
There was a House wherein
Were Fielden, Faithfull, Finn,
And they listened with infinite delight, O,
When in Biblical quotation
He breathed his expectation
Of washing the Blackamoor white, O.
Were Fielden, Faithfull, Finn,
And they listened with infinite delight, O,
When in Biblical quotation
He breathed his expectation
Of washing the Blackamoor white, O.
There was a grave philosopher
Who vowed the plan to toss over,
Which seemed all his visions to blight, O;
Fowell Buxton was his name,
And he muttered “Fie for shame!
This won't wash the Blackamoor white, O.”
Who vowed the plan to toss over,
Which seemed all his visions to blight, O;
Fowell Buxton was his name,
And he muttered “Fie for shame!
This won't wash the Blackamoor white, O.”
There was Lushington, the Doctor,
That very learned Proctor
Who in speaking spits fire and spite, O;
He at this was discontented,
And to nothing less assented
Than washing the Blackamoor white, O.
That very learned Proctor
Who in speaking spits fire and spite, O;
He at this was discontented,
And to nothing less assented
Than washing the Blackamoor white, O.
233
There was a youthful Tully,
Determined not to sully
His laurels so green and so bright, O;
And he sighed, “With heartfelt sorrow
I must leave my place to-morrow,
If you won't wash the Blackamoor white, O.”
Determined not to sully
His laurels so green and so bright, O;
And he sighed, “With heartfelt sorrow
I must leave my place to-morrow,
If you won't wash the Blackamoor white, O.”
There was a lord, sad-hearted
Since from office he departed,
And he rose in a melancholy plight, O,
To say that he had rather
Go himself and teach his father
How to wash the Blackamoor white, O.
Since from office he departed,
And he rose in a melancholy plight, O,
To say that he had rather
Go himself and teach his father
How to wash the Blackamoor white, O.
There was a band which marched,
Four hundred, stiff and starched,
To Downing Street, to fight the good fight, O;
Saints, sinners, all came forth,
From the south and from the north,
All to wash the Blackamoor white, O.
Four hundred, stiff and starched,
To Downing Street, to fight the good fight, O;
Saints, sinners, all came forth,
From the south and from the north,
All to wash the Blackamoor white, O.
There was a private room
Where they laboured to illume
Dark councils with sparks of new light, O;
And stunned the Administration
With excommunication,
If it wouldn't wash the Blackamoor white, O.
Where they laboured to illume
Dark councils with sparks of new light, O;
And stunned the Administration
With excommunication,
If it wouldn't wash the Blackamoor white, O.
234
There was a mortgage deed,
As fair a thing to read
As ever a lawyer could write, O;
But the parchment, people say,
Lighted fires for Brougham and Grey,
While they washed the Blackamoor white, O.
As fair a thing to read
As ever a lawyer could write, O;
But the parchment, people say,
Lighted fires for Brougham and Grey,
While they washed the Blackamoor white, O.
There was a merchant ship
Returning from a trip,
And her owner was sad at the sight, O;
Despairing of Barbadoes,
For rum and muscovadoes,
After washing the Blackamoor white, O.
Returning from a trip,
And her owner was sad at the sight, O;
Despairing of Barbadoes,
For rum and muscovadoes,
After washing the Blackamoor white, O.
There was a hungry nation,
Which heard with much vexation
That her ministers meant, if they might, O,
To tack to that long debt of hers
The price of Stanley's metaphors,
And of washing the Blackamoor white, O.
Which heard with much vexation
That her ministers meant, if they might, O,
To tack to that long debt of hers
The price of Stanley's metaphors,
And of washing the Blackamoor white, O.
The political and occasional poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed | ||