ELEGY IV.
The Poet lamenteth the Omission of certain interesting Exhibitions that might have afforded Pleasure in Pastry to the Multitude.
What
pity that no wash-tub did appear,
To show Trafalgar's Battle, and the Nile's;
With pretty little paper ships of war,
To launch the thunder of the Queen of Isles!
What pity there was not a baker's tray,
With troops of gingerbread upon the plain;
Horse, Foot, engag'd, and spreading dire dismay,
And cutting, thick as Hops, the French in twain!
Sure, gingerbread might well portray a scene,
A Duke's full levee after scenes of woe;
A Duke in converse with his gallant men,
And smiling upon Greenwood, Cox, and Co.
What pity, gingerbread did not display
Our British hero from his chariot flung;
Hurl'd from the regions of celestial day,
A second Phaeton, to mud and dung:—
Now nobly scrambling on his legs again,
'Midst gazing armies, and a mighty shout;
The reins resuming with a just disdain,
And scornful kicking dull Sir David out!
How far superior to a China view;
Where neither genius, taste, nor fancy, dwells:
Monkeys and mandarins, a motley crew,
Bridges, pagodas, swings, and tinkling bells!
Yet let us not of such a scene despair:
Some pastry-cook the miracle may bake;
The Royal Duke, Sir David, and the Car,
All nicely mounted on a nice twelfth cake.
