The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore Collected by Himself. In Ten Volumes |
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| III, IV. |
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| VI, VII. |
 | VIII, IX. |
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STANZAS WRITTEN IN ANTICIPATION OF DEFEAT.
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 | The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore |  |
293
STANZAS WRITTEN IN ANTICIPATION OF DEFEAT.
1828.
Go seek for some abler defenders of wrong,
If we must run the gantlet through blood and expense;
Or, Goths as ye are, in your multitude strong,
Be content with success, and pretend not to sense.
If we must run the gantlet through blood and expense;
Or, Goths as ye are, in your multitude strong,
Be content with success, and pretend not to sense.
If the words of the wise and the gen'rous are vain,
If Truth by the bowstring must yield up her breath,
Let Mutes do the office—and spare her the pain
Of an In---gl---s or T---nd---l to talk her to death.
If Truth by the bowstring must yield up her breath,
Let Mutes do the office—and spare her the pain
Of an In---gl---s or T---nd---l to talk her to death.
Chain, persecute, plunder—do all that you will—
But save us, at least, the old womanly lore
Of a F*st*r, who, dully prophetic of ill,
Is, at once, the two instruments, augur and bore.
But save us, at least, the old womanly lore
Of a F*st*r, who, dully prophetic of ill,
Is, at once, the two instruments, augur and bore.
294
Bring legions of Squires—if they'll only be mute—
And array their thick heads against reason and right,
Like the Roman of old, of historic repute ,
Who with droves of dumb animals carried the fight;
And array their thick heads against reason and right,
Like the Roman of old, of historic repute ,
Who with droves of dumb animals carried the fight;
Pour out, from each corner and hole of the Court,
Your Bedchamber lordlings, your salaried slaves,
Who, ripe for all job-work, no matter what sort,
Have their consciences tack'd to their patents and staves.
Your Bedchamber lordlings, your salaried slaves,
Who, ripe for all job-work, no matter what sort,
Have their consciences tack'd to their patents and staves.
Catch all the small fry who, as Juvenal sings,
Are the Treasury's creatures, wherever they swim ;
With all the base, time-serving toadies of Kings,
Who, if Punch were the monarch, would worship ev'n him;
Are the Treasury's creatures, wherever they swim ;
With all the base, time-serving toadies of Kings,
Who, if Punch were the monarch, would worship ev'n him;
And while, on the one side, each name of renown,
That illumines and blesses our age is combin'd;
While the Foxes, the Pitts, and the Cannings look down,
And drop o'er the cause their rich mantles of Mind;
That illumines and blesses our age is combin'd;
295
And drop o'er the cause their rich mantles of Mind;
Let bold Paddy H*lmes show his troops on the other,
And, counting of noses the quantum desir'd,
Let Paddy but say, like the Gracchi's fam'd mother,
“Come forward, my jewels”—'tis all that's requir'd.
And, counting of noses the quantum desir'd,
Let Paddy but say, like the Gracchi's fam'd mother,
“Come forward, my jewels”—'tis all that's requir'd.
And thus let your farce be enacted hereafter—
Thus honestly persecute, outlaw, and chain;
But spare ev'n your victims the torture of laughter,
And never, oh never, try reasoning again!
Thus honestly persecute, outlaw, and chain;
But spare ev'n your victims the torture of laughter,
And never, oh never, try reasoning again!
END OF THE EIGHTH VOLUME.
| The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore | |