University of Virginia Library

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185

ANNOUNCEMENT OF A NEW THALABA.

ADDRESSED TO ROBERT SOUTHEY, ESQ.

When erst, my Southey, thy tuneful tongue
The terrible tale of Thalaba sung—
Of him, the Destroyer, doom'd to rout
That grim divan of conjurors out,
Whose dwelling dark, as legends say,
Beneath the roots of the ocean lay,
(Fit place for deep ones, such as they,)
How little thou knew'st, dear Dr. Southey,
Although bright genus all allow thee,
That, some years thence, thy wondering eyes
Should see a second Thalaba rise—
As ripe for ruinous rigs as thine,
Though his havoc lie in a different line,
And should find this new, improv'd Destroyer
Beneath the wig of a Yankee lawyer;

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186

A sort of an “alien,” alias man,
Whose country or party guess who can,
Being Cockney half, half Jonathan;
And his life, to make the thing completer,
Being all in the genuine Thalaba metre,
Loose and irregular as thy feet are;—
First, into Whig Pindarics rambling,
Then in low Tory doggrel scrambling;
Now love his theme, now Church his glory
(At once both Tory and ama-tory),
Now in the' Old Bailey-lay meandering,
Now in soft couplet style philandering;
And, lastly, in lame Alexandrine,
Dragging his wounded length along ,
When scourg'd by Holland's silken thong.

In short, dear Bob, Destroyer the Second
May fairly a match for the First be reckon'd;
Save that your Thalaba's talent lay
In sweeping old conjurors clean away,
While ours at aldermen deals his blows,
(Who no great conjurors are, God knows,)

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187

Lays Corporations, by wholesale, level,
Sends Acts of Parliament to the devil,
Bullies the whole Milesian race—
Seven millions of Paddies, face to face;
And, seizing that magic wand, himself,
Which erst thy conjurors left on the shelf,
Transforms the boys of the Boyne and Liffey
All into foreigners, in a jiffey—
Aliens, outcasts, every soul of 'em,
Born but for whips and chains, the whole of 'em!