The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore Collected by Himself. In Ten Volumes |
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ALARMING INTELLIGENCE—REVOLUTION IN THE DICTIONARY—ONE GALT AT THE HEAD OF IT. |
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 | The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore |  |
48
ALARMING INTELLIGENCE—REVOLUTION IN THE DICTIONARY—ONE GALT AT THE HEAD OF IT.
God preserve us!—there's nothing now safe from assault;—
Thrones toppling around, churches brought to the hammer;
And accounts have just reach'd us that one Mr. Galt
Has declar'd open war against English and Grammar!
Thrones toppling around, churches brought to the hammer;
And accounts have just reach'd us that one Mr. Galt
Has declar'd open war against English and Grammar!
He had long been suspected of some such design,
And, the better his wicked intents to arrive at,
Had lately 'mong C---lb---n's troops of the line
(The penny-a-line men) enlisted as private.
And, the better his wicked intents to arrive at,
Had lately 'mong C---lb---n's troops of the line
(The penny-a-line men) enlisted as private.
There school'd, with a rabble of words at command,
Scotch, English, and slang, in promiscuous alliance,
He, at length, against Syntax has taken his stand,
And sets all the Nine Parts of Speech at defiance.
Scotch, English, and slang, in promiscuous alliance,
He, at length, against Syntax has taken his stand,
And sets all the Nine Parts of Speech at defiance.
49
Next advices, no doubt, further facts will afford;
In the mean time the danger most imminent grows,
He has taken the Life of one eminent Lord,
And whom he'll next murder the Lord only knows.
In the mean time the danger most imminent grows,
He has taken the Life of one eminent Lord,
And whom he'll next murder the Lord only knows.
Wednesday evening.
Since our last, matters, luckily, look more serene;
Tho' the rebel, 'tis stated, to aid his defection,
Has seized a great Powder—no, Puff Magazine,
And the' explosions are dreadful in every direction.
Tho' the rebel, 'tis stated, to aid his defection,
Has seized a great Powder—no, Puff Magazine,
And the' explosions are dreadful in every direction.
What his meaning exactly is, nobody knows,
As he talks (in a strain of intense botheration)
Of lyrical “ichor ,” “gelatinous” prose ,
And a mixture call'd amber immortalization.
As he talks (in a strain of intense botheration)
Of lyrical “ichor ,” “gelatinous” prose ,
And a mixture call'd amber immortalization.
Now, he raves of a bard he once happen'd to meet,
Seated high “among rattlings,” and churning a sonnet ;
Now, talks of a mystery, wrapp'd in a sheet,
With a halo (by way of a nightcap) upon it!
Seated high “among rattlings,” and churning a sonnet ;
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With a halo (by way of a nightcap) upon it!
We shudder in tracing these terrible lines;
Something bad they must mean, tho' we can't make it out;
For, whate'er may be guess'd of Galt's secret designs,
That they're all Anti-English no Christian can doubt.
Something bad they must mean, tho' we can't make it out;
For, whate'er may be guess'd of Galt's secret designs,
That they're all Anti-English no Christian can doubt.
| The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore | |