 | The poetical writings of Fitz-Greene Halleck, with extracts from those of Joseph Rodman Drake |  |
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THE COUNCIL OF APPOINTMENT AT ALBANY.
There's magic in the robe of power,
Ennobling every thing beneath it;
Its spell is like the Upas bower,
Whose air will puff up all that breathe it.
Alike it charms the horse-hair tress
That Turkey's three-tailed Bashaws wear,
And hallows Clinton's levee-dress
Cut by the classic shears of Baehr.
Ennobling every thing beneath it;
Its spell is like the Upas bower,
Whose air will puff up all that breathe it.
Alike it charms the horse-hair tress
That Turkey's three-tailed Bashaws wear,
And hallows Clinton's levee-dress
Cut by the classic shears of Baehr.
Before its witchery, of late,
Our proudest politicians trembled,
When the five Heads that rule the State
Around the Council-board assembled.
There, arbiter of fates and fortunes,
Of brains it well supplied the loss,
Gave Bates and Rosencrantz importance,
And made a gentleman of Ross.
Our proudest politicians trembled,
When the five Heads that rule the State
Around the Council-board assembled.
There, arbiter of fates and fortunes,
Of brains it well supplied the loss,
Gave Bates and Rosencrantz importance,
And made a gentleman of Ross.
'Tis vain to win a great man's name
Without some proof of having been one;
And Killing's a sure path to fame,
Vide Jack Ketch and Mr. Clinton!
Our Council well this path have trod,
Honor's immortal wreath securing;
They've dipped their hatchets in the blood,
The patriot blood, of Mat Van Buren.
Without some proof of having been one;
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Vide Jack Ketch and Mr. Clinton!
Our Council well this path have trod,
Honor's immortal wreath securing;
They've dipped their hatchets in the blood,
The patriot blood, of Mat Van Buren.
He bears, as every hero ought,
The mandate of the powers that rule
(He's higher game in view, 'tis thought,
All in good time; the man's no fool).
With him, some dozens prostrate fall,
No friend to mourn, nor foe to flout them,
They die unsung, unwept by all,
For no one cares a sou about them.
The mandate of the powers that rule
(He's higher game in view, 'tis thought,
All in good time; the man's no fool).
With him, some dozens prostrate fall,
No friend to mourn, nor foe to flout them,
They die unsung, unwept by all,
For no one cares a sou about them.
Wortman and Scott may grace the bar again,
For them, a blest exchange we make;
We've dignity in Ned McGareaghan,
And all, but that, in Jerry Drake.
And lo! the wreath of withered leaves
That lately twined Van Buren's brow,
Oakley's pure, spotless hand receives;
He's earned it—'tis no matter how.
For them, a blest exchange we make;
We've dignity in Ned McGareaghan,
And all, but that, in Jerry Drake.
And lo! the wreath of withered leaves
That lately twined Van Buren's brow,
Oakley's pure, spotless hand receives;
He's earned it—'tis no matter how.
Let office-holders cease to weep,
And put once more their gala-dress on;
The Council's closed, and they may sleep
In quiet, till the winter session.
Since all, or in or out of place,
Wear Knavery's cloak or Folly's feather,
'Tis ours their ups and downs to trace,
And laugh at ins and outs together.
And put once more their gala-dress on;
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In quiet, till the winter session.
Since all, or in or out of place,
Wear Knavery's cloak or Folly's feather,
'Tis ours their ups and downs to trace,
And laugh at ins and outs together.
H.
| The poetical writings of Fitz-Greene Halleck, with extracts from those of Joseph Rodman Drake | |