The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore Collected by Himself. In Ten Volumes |
 | I, II. |
| III, IV. |
| V. |
| VI, VII. |
 | VIII, IX. |
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TORY PLEDGES. |
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| 2. |
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| X. |
 | The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore |  |
117
TORY PLEDGES.
I pledge myself through thick and thin,
To labour still, with zeal devout,
To get the Outs, poor devils, in,
And turn the Ins, the wretches, out.
To labour still, with zeal devout,
To get the Outs, poor devils, in,
And turn the Ins, the wretches, out.
I pledge myself, though much bereft
Of ways and means of ruling ill,
To make the most of what are left,
And stick to all that's rotten still.
Of ways and means of ruling ill,
To make the most of what are left,
And stick to all that's rotten still.
Though gone the days of place and pelf,
And drones no more take all the honey,
I pledge myself to cram myself
With all I can of public money.
And drones no more take all the honey,
I pledge myself to cram myself
With all I can of public money.
To quarter on that social purse
My nephews, nieces, sisters, brothers,
Nor, so we prosper, care a curse
How much 'tis at the' expense of others.
My nephews, nieces, sisters, brothers,
Nor, so we prosper, care a curse
How much 'tis at the' expense of others.
118
I pledge myself, whenever Right
And Might on any point divide,
Not to ask which is black or white,
But take, at once, the strongest side.
And Might on any point divide,
Not to ask which is black or white,
But take, at once, the strongest side.
For instance, in all Tithe discussions,
I'm for the Reverend encroachers:—
I loathe the Poles, applaud the Russians,—
Am for the Squires, against the Poachers.
I'm for the Reverend encroachers:—
I loathe the Poles, applaud the Russians,—
Am for the Squires, against the Poachers.
Betwixt the Corn-Lords and the Poor
I've not the slightest hesitation,—
The People must be starv'd, t'insure
The Land its due remuneration.
I've not the slightest hesitation,—
The People must be starv'd, t'insure
The Land its due remuneration.
I pledge myself to be no more
With Ireland's wrongs bepros'd or shamm'd,—
I vote her grievances a bore,
So she may suffer, and be d---d.
With Ireland's wrongs bepros'd or shamm'd,—
I vote her grievances a bore,
So she may suffer, and be d---d.
Or if she kick, let it console us,
We still have plenty of red coats,
To cram the Church, that general bolus,
Down any giv'n amount of throats.
We still have plenty of red coats,
To cram the Church, that general bolus,
Down any giv'n amount of throats.
119
I dearly love the Frankfort Diet,—
Think newspapers the worst of crimes;
And would, to give some chance of quiet,
Hang all the writers of The Times;
Think newspapers the worst of crimes;
And would, to give some chance of quiet,
Hang all the writers of The Times;
Break all their correspondents' bones,
All authors of “Reply,” “Rejoinder,”
From the Anti-Tory, Colonel J---es,
To the Anti-Suttee, Mr. P---ynd---r.
All authors of “Reply,” “Rejoinder,”
From the Anti-Tory, Colonel J---es,
To the Anti-Suttee, Mr. P---ynd---r.
Such are the Pledges I propose;
And though I can't now offer gold,
There's many a way of buying those
Who've but the taste for being sold.
And though I can't now offer gold,
There's many a way of buying those
Who've but the taste for being sold.
So here's, with three times three hurrahs,
A toast, of which you'll not complain,—
“Long life to jobbing; may the days
“Of Peculation shine again!”
A toast, of which you'll not complain,—
“Long life to jobbing; may the days
“Of Peculation shine again!”
| The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore | |