All the talents' garland or, A few rockets let off at a celebrated ministry. Including Elijah's mantle, the Uti Possidetis, and other poems of the same author. By eminent political characters. The third edition, greatly enlarged [by E. A. Barrett] |
 | ALL THE TALENTS' GARLAND. |
 |
 | All the talents' garland |  |
9
ALL THE TALENTS' GARLAND.
BULL OF POPE PIUS VII.
ON THE CHANGE OF THE ENGLISH MINISTRY, MARCH, 1807.
Hung with black be the Vatican! deep be the gloom!For, alas! low are fall'n the new Friends of old Rome,
And Brunswick, for dreams of oaths, conscience and charters,
Has made of Whig Saints—a whole Red Book of Martyrs,
10
Unenlighten'd to plod, by the light of “dark ages;”
That age too so dark, of true faith the proscriber,
Which Kings sent to mass from the Thames to the Tiber.
Yet, though giv'n up to heresy, people and throne,
In Britain we've still all the talents our own;
And whom now to console for lost power and places,
We'll send bales of relics and plenary graces.
First, to good Father Howick a mitre of lead,
By St. Denis erst worn—who, bereft of his head,
Full many a league trotted nimbly about,
To shew folks they well may do business without.
Be to Windham St. Laurence's gridiron decreed,
To teach him the virtue he now will most need;
11
He with patience may bear, like the Saint—to be roasted.—
Give to Russell (heir-loom, to each Whig Faction, shackled)
Brains of goose that of yore i'th' Capitol cackled.
Petty's fame yet to save from mistakes and mischance,
Holy Water shall brush out his schemes of Finance:
Great Petty! so puff'd up for “raising the wind,”
Who could take much from nothing, yet much leave behind;
Who could money create without Taxes or Loan,
Whose head John Bull thought the philosopher's stone;
12
John was rous'd to decide 'twixt small beer and pig-iron.—
For Sherry the House of Loretto, fit gift,
Right useful for wits who their stations oft shift;
That when driv'n by Paull from St. Stephen's protection,
Writs, duns, pour on Sherry from ev'ry direction;
And armies of bailiffs, doors, windows, surround,
Of his house not a tangible piece shall be found:
So still with law, honesty, order, at strife,
Sherry, lawless, may live as he's liv'd all his life.
To his Son send the skull of that ass of renown
Which once mounted the chair, and harangued a whole town;
That if future Elections should tempt Tom to speak,
He may precedent plead of this same learned Greek.
13
From the toils of Impeachments shall give Whitbread rest;
And tho' mobs his fine speeches no longer admire,
They still shall confess Whitbread's fame is entire.
Should Vienna, dismay'd, soft Adair see resign,
His knack at a mission to keep from decline,
We appoint him our Nuncio in Britain to shine:
Adair who, to figure in Corps Diplomatic,
The Chronicle robb'd of his labours so Attic;
14
And preserve our dear son, St. Napoleon, from harm.
To Tierney, the robe of St. Jerome, we'll spare,
On condition he gives to each barker a share.
For the Grenvilles prepare dispensations a set,
To hold all the sinecure posts they can get.
But should Edmund behold from the regions seraphic,
The firm vig'rous Statesman in jobs meanly traffic,
15
And exclaim that, of Patriots, the age is no more.
Or if the pure spirit of Pitt should be told,
(Which in Heav'n, as on earth, still looks far above gold),
That Grenville had sordidly barter'd away
His fame for a pottage with Sherry and Grey;
Indignant he'd blush at this ardour for pelf,
And, lamenting his country, would joy for himself,
That, remov'd from such scenes to his own kindred sky,
He had left nought on earth—but a name ne'er to die.
16
Bravely voting this Session, may not see the next,
Shall each of Sainte Huile have a large distribution
For unction extreme when arrives Dissolution;
And when one common lot shall involve Ayes and No's,
And their transient existence Fate's Ministers close,
When the direful Gazette like their passing bell tolls,
Let Masses by dozens be sung for their souls.
17
AD AMICUM SHERIDANUM.
“Deliciæ Sheridan musarum, dulcis Amice!
“------ Seu e mimum convivia rident,
“Æquivocosque sales spargis, seu ludere versu
“Malles, dic, Sheridan. ------”
SWIFT.
“------ Seu e mimum convivia rident,
“Æquivocosque sales spargis, seu ludere versu
“Malles, dic, Sheridan. ------”
SWIFT.
Possess'd of ev'ry fowl and fish,
With “butter in a lordly dish,”
And cramm'd with all their hearts could wish,
So that their dogs grew fat with crumbs;
What could induce your Treasury chums
To kick the benches from their b---?
Dic, Sheridan!
With “butter in a lordly dish,”
And cramm'd with all their hearts could wish,
So that their dogs grew fat with crumbs;
What could induce your Treasury chums
To kick the benches from their b---?
Dic, Sheridan!
Some of the gentlemen were poor;
Liv'd by their wits—a scanty store,
Till Grenville ope'd the Treasury door;
No longer there they toast their noses,
Or slumber on the Bed of Roses
With thee—is't thus the Drama closes?
Dic, Sheridan!
Liv'd by their wits—a scanty store,
Till Grenville ope'd the Treasury door;
No longer there they toast their noses,
Or slumber on the Bed of Roses
With thee—is't thus the Drama closes?
Dic, Sheridan!
18
In evil hour 'gainst Mother Church,
Howick prepar'd a rod of birch,
And would have left her in the lurch;
But (Heav'n be prais'd!) our Faith's Defender
Drove from his Councils this pretender.
Must thou thy Treasurership surrender?
Dic, Sheridan!
Howick prepar'd a rod of birch,
And would have left her in the lurch;
But (Heav'n be prais'd!) our Faith's Defender
Drove from his Councils this pretender.
Must thou thy Treasurership surrender?
Dic, Sheridan!
Tho' Grenville, gorg'd, may shut his jaws,
Or suck nutrition from his paws,
His hangers-on have craving maws;
They now must starve or live like Tartars:
And though the Pope may style them Martyrs,
Will that make up for loss of quarters?
Dic, Sheridan!
Or suck nutrition from his paws,
His hangers-on have craving maws;
They now must starve or live like Tartars:
And though the Pope may style them Martyrs,
Will that make up for loss of quarters?
Dic, Sheridan!
What is the Church of Rome to thee?
Her discipline would ill agree
With “tipsy dance and revelry.”
Penance you practis'd long enough,
Do not our rites suit Blue and Buff
Better than Fasts and lenten stuff?
Dic, Sheridan!
Her discipline would ill agree
With “tipsy dance and revelry.”
Penance you practis'd long enough,
Do not our rites suit Blue and Buff
Better than Fasts and lenten stuff?
Dic, Sheridan!
19
If thou hast listed to his brawl,
And run thy head against a wall,
Peter will cost thee more than Paull.
Why on thyself this mischief bring?
Had it not been a wiser thing
T'have join'd the cause of Church and King?
Dic, Sheridan.
And run thy head against a wall,
Peter will cost thee more than Paull.
Why on thyself this mischief bring?
Had it not been a wiser thing
T'have join'd the cause of Church and King?
Dic, Sheridan.
20
THE CONFESSION OF A GREY FRIAR.
A SOLEMN DIRGE.
In
good
Charles Fox's bustling day,
I came to man's estate, Sirs;
To Blue and Buff stuck patriot Grey,
Like nit to beggar's pate, Sirs.
By nature proud, I scorn'd controul;
For place and power I panted;
And, though a despot in my soul,
'Bout Liberty I canted.
For this with Whigs I was enroll'd,
The Whigs of modern day, Sirs!
But now with them few tenets hold,
A motley Whig is Grey, Sirs.
I came to man's estate, Sirs;
To Blue and Buff stuck patriot Grey,
Like nit to beggar's pate, Sirs.
By nature proud, I scorn'd controul;
For place and power I panted;
And, though a despot in my soul,
'Bout Liberty I canted.
For this with Whigs I was enroll'd,
The Whigs of modern day, Sirs!
But now with them few tenets hold,
A motley Whig is Grey, Sirs.
Near twenty years in Stephen's fane,
'Gainst Pitt I rail'd and voted;
To Edmund Burke, preferr'd Tom Paine,
O'th' Rights of Man I doted.
For good O'Connor's faith and troth
I would have pledg'd my own, Sirs;
At Quigley's sentence I was wroth,
And griev'd for banish'd Stone, Sirs!
No longer now I mourn their loss,
My Whig-Club friends—good day, Sirs!
Rome's holy cares the mind engross
O'th' quondam patriot Grey, Sirs;
'Gainst Pitt I rail'd and voted;
To Edmund Burke, preferr'd Tom Paine,
O'th' Rights of Man I doted.
21
I would have pledg'd my own, Sirs;
At Quigley's sentence I was wroth,
And griev'd for banish'd Stone, Sirs!
No longer now I mourn their loss,
My Whig-Club friends—good day, Sirs!
Rome's holy cares the mind engross
O'th' quondam patriot Grey, Sirs;
'Gainst Tories once I join'd the cry,
To William pour'd libations,
No Irish Cousins then had I,
No Catholic Relations.
The Tests that shut out James's breed,
I deem'd it sin to alter,
The Revolution Code's my Creed,
The Bill of Rights—my Psalter.
Now, like my name, my note is chang'd,
A different game I play, Sirs;
Howick, with Stuart's friends is rang'd,
No longer patriot Grey, Sirs.
To William pour'd libations,
No Irish Cousins then had I,
No Catholic Relations.
The Tests that shut out James's breed,
I deem'd it sin to alter,
The Revolution Code's my Creed,
The Bill of Rights—my Psalter.
Now, like my name, my note is chang'd,
A different game I play, Sirs;
Howick, with Stuart's friends is rang'd,
No longer patriot Grey, Sirs.
For them, 'bout Irish feuds I'll croak,
And bode Rebellion's day, Sirs;
Canning, I know, my scheme will smoke,
And call me raven Grey, Sirs!
Still on the Commons rests our hope,
Once more to gain our quarters,
But if we sail, we trust the Pope.
Will style us—blessed Martyrs!
Now fare ye well, my Treasury Chums,
St. James's gate is barr'd, Sirs;
And when your Dissolution comes,
“Like Newgate cocks, die hard,” Sirs!
And bode Rebellion's day, Sirs;
Canning, I know, my scheme will smoke,
And call me raven Grey, Sirs!
22
Once more to gain our quarters,
But if we sail, we trust the Pope.
Will style us—blessed Martyrs!
Now fare ye well, my Treasury Chums,
St. James's gate is barr'd, Sirs;
And when your Dissolution comes,
“Like Newgate cocks, die hard,” Sirs!
23
THE LOYAL CATHOLIC:
A NEW SONG, SUNG IN DUBLIN WITH GREAT APPLAUSE.
Here's success to the “happiness, comfort, and ease”
Of those Ministers stoutly opposing their King,
Who their consciences sold for the sake of their place,
And who press'd their good Master to do the same thing!
Of those Ministers stoutly opposing their King,
Who their consciences sold for the sake of their place,
And who press'd their good Master to do the same thing!
Hurrah! for the Boys there, by day and by night,
Be their consciences ever the theme of our song;
Who did what was wrong, just to do what was right,
And to do what was right, did just what was wrong!
Be their consciences ever the theme of our song;
Who did what was wrong, just to do what was right,
And to do what was right, did just what was wrong!
To the King, it was mighty obliging and good,
And, like all their deeds, in true loyalty's course,
When his wishes, nay, ev'n his commands, they withstood,
And his conscience, long settled, endeavoured to force.
And, like all their deeds, in true loyalty's course,
When his wishes, nay, ev'n his commands, they withstood,
And his conscience, long settled, endeavoured to force.
24
To the Catholics too, it was perfect good faith
To stifle our claim for the thing which we wanted,
And 'bout a forc'd offer, so wisely debate,
Of that, which our Sovereign had long ago granted.
To stifle our claim for the thing which we wanted,
And 'bout a forc'd offer, so wisely debate,
Of that, which our Sovereign had long ago granted.
Did they mean but to do what before had been done,
If Rebels we were, how could that make us quiet?
And if more—sure to swindle the King they'd begun,
And, caught in the fact, they have kick'd up this riot.
If Rebels we were, how could that make us quiet?
And if more—sure to swindle the King they'd begun,
And, caught in the fact, they have kick'd up this riot.
Having thus tried, in vain tho', to cheat us all round,
The King in his promise, and us in our claim;
In vain, too, shall all their endeavours be found
Once more to foment the Rebellion's fierce flame.
The King in his promise, and us in our claim;
In vain, too, shall all their endeavours be found
Once more to foment the Rebellion's fierce flame.
For tho' rebel Colonels, and friends of O'Connor,
Have well, for their treason, been lately rewarded
With high posts of law, and with stations of honour—
The devil a bit was the poor man regarded.
Have well, for their treason, been lately rewarded
With high posts of law, and with stations of honour—
The devil a bit was the poor man regarded.
Tho' into rebellion the peasant was cheated,
Yet the case he complain'd of was put on the shelf;
Each Leader, secure in his treach'ry, retreated,
And in plunder of office, took care of himself.
Yet the case he complain'd of was put on the shelf;
Each Leader, secure in his treach'ry, retreated,
And in plunder of office, took care of himself.
25
But our Sovereign, God bless him! has never deceiv'd us;
Afflicted he found us, and better'd our fate;
From religious restriction he fully reliev'd us,
And plac'd us with rank and respect in the State.
Afflicted he found us, and better'd our fate;
From religious restriction he fully reliev'd us,
And plac'd us with rank and respect in the State.
From the breast of that King, benefactor, and friend,
We'll unite, every painful distrust to remove,
And to faction we'll shew that their triumphs must end,
As alone our good King's, not their subjects, we'll prove.
We'll unite, every painful distrust to remove,
And to faction we'll shew that their triumphs must end,
As alone our good King's, not their subjects, we'll prove.
For he never yet gave as a promise, we know,
To do more than his bounty has graciously done;
Nor have we ever fail'd where we gratitude owe,
No—we Catholics never his service shall shun.
To do more than his bounty has graciously done;
Nor have we ever fail'd where we gratitude owe,
No—we Catholics never his service shall shun.
But with hand and with heart, as our Heroes of old,
We'll swell our proud Records, our National stories;
New triumphs we'll share, as our names are enroll'd
In Egypt's, in Maida's, in Trafalgar's glories!
We'll swell our proud Records, our National stories;
New triumphs we'll share, as our names are enroll'd
In Egypt's, in Maida's, in Trafalgar's glories!
Hurrah! for the boys, then, by day and by night,
Be their consciences ever the theme of our Song,
Who did what was wrong, just to do what right,
And to do what was right, did just what was wrong!
Be their consciences ever the theme of our Song,
Who did what was wrong, just to do what right,
And to do what was right, did just what was wrong!
26
ALL THE TALENTS, &c.
When the broad-bottom'd Junto, with reason at strife,
Resign'd, with a sigh, its political life;
When converted to Rome, and of honesty tir'd,
They gave back to the Devil the soul he inspir'd;
Resign'd, with a sigh, its political life;
When converted to Rome, and of honesty tir'd,
They gave back to the Devil the soul he inspir'd;
The Dæmon of Faction, that over them hung,
In accents of horror their epitaph sung;
While Pride and Venality join'd in the stave,
And canting Democracy wept at the grave.
In accents of horror their epitaph sung;
While Pride and Venality join'd in the stave,
And canting Democracy wept at the grave.
“Here lies in the tomb that we hollow'd for Pitt,
“Consistence of Grenville, of Temple the wit;
“Of Sidmouth the firmness; the temper of Grey,
“And Treasurer Sheridan's promise to pay.
“Consistence of Grenville, of Temple the wit;
“Of Sidmouth the firmness; the temper of Grey,
“And Treasurer Sheridan's promise to pay.
“Here Petty's finance, from the evils to come,
“With Fitzpatrick's sobriety, creeps to the tomb;
“And Chancellor Ego, now left in the lurch,
“Neither dines with the Jordan, nor whines for the church.
“With Fitzpatrick's sobriety, creeps to the tomb;
“And Chancellor Ego, now left in the lurch,
“Neither dines with the Jordan, nor whines for the church.
27
“Then huzza for the Party that here is at rest,
“By the fools of a faction regretted and blest;
“Tho' they sleep with the Devil, yet their's is the hope,
“On the downfall of Britain, to rise with the Pope.”
“By the fools of a faction regretted and blest;
“Tho' they sleep with the Devil, yet their's is the hope,
“On the downfall of Britain, to rise with the Pope.”
28
ON SOME LATE POLITICAL EVENTS.
BY A HANTS FREEHOLDER.
When lour'd the dark cloud over England's domain,
And the tyrant had threaten'd t'extinguish her reign,
Fierce howl'd the loud blast round her sea-bulwark'd shore,
She heard—but she smil'd at its impotent roar.
And the tyrant had threaten'd t'extinguish her reign,
Fierce howl'd the loud blast round her sea-bulwark'd shore,
She heard—but she smil'd at its impotent roar.
And still while integrity guarded the land,
Freedom firmly in Albion took her last stand;
Her children ne'er heeded the voice of alarm,
Secure in “the Pilot who weather'd the storm.”
Freedom firmly in Albion took her last stand;
Her children ne'er heeded the voice of alarm,
Secure in “the Pilot who weather'd the storm.”
But when Death had remorselessly ta'en from the helm,
Him, the man! and destroy'd the best hopes of the realm,
Again rose the dæmon who rides in the blast,
With hope for the future, tho' balk'd in the past.
Him, the man! and destroy'd the best hopes of the realm,
Again rose the dæmon who rides in the blast,
With hope for the future, tho' balk'd in the past.
Then a party appear'd, caught the helm in despair,
And places and pensions alone seiz'd with care;
As discordant in measures as diff'rent in face,
They only agreed—to assume each his place:
And places and pensions alone seiz'd with care;
As discordant in measures as diff'rent in face,
They only agreed—to assume each his place:
29
Sought to trample on Hampshire's and Norfolk's best right,
And their tools to return, in fair Freedom's despight;
While e'en those near related to Pitt's honour'd shade,
Exult in, and urge the attempt to be made.
And their tools to return, in fair Freedom's despight;
While e'en those near related to Pitt's honour'd shade,
Exult in, and urge the attempt to be made.
Tho' black be the fog which may threaten the day,
Beyond its dominion is seen the sun's ray;
Still Freedom surmounts its effects as she flies;
She rises triumphant, and soars to the skies.
Beyond its dominion is seen the sun's ray;
Still Freedom surmounts its effects as she flies;
She rises triumphant, and soars to the skies.
30
THE MIGHTY MARQUIS.
With Constantine, Constantinople rose,
Queen of the East, and Europe's admiration!
With Constantine she fell to barb'rous foes;
A third was destin'd for her restoration.
Queen of the East, and Europe's admiration!
With Constantine she fell to barb'rous foes;
A third was destin'd for her restoration.
By Cath'rine nam'd to crown her glorious work,
Colossal Empire! Grecia's renovation!
He leaves to Fate th'infatuated Turk,
To plan the Douglas tail's annihilation.
Colossal Empire! Grecia's renovation!
He leaves to Fate th'infatuated Turk,
To plan the Douglas tail's annihilation.
Tho' lost on earth, as Euergete's Queen
Beheld her sparkling tresses' exaltation;
This tail stupendous, gifted eyes have seen
Blaze like a torch, near Bootes' Constellation.
Beheld her sparkling tresses' exaltation;
This tail stupendous, gifted eyes have seen
Blaze like a torch, near Bootes' Constellation.
The mighty Marquis Douglas was selected
To represent that wond'rous combination
Of “All the Talents” and the Rumps collected,
Fam'd for solidity and penetration.
To represent that wond'rous combination
Of “All the Talents” and the Rumps collected,
Fam'd for solidity and penetration.
31
He pass'd the Baltic with a fav'ring gale,
Europe to save by his wise ministration;
Sent like a Comet, with less head than tail,
To charm and awe the frozen Russian nation.
Europe to save by his wise ministration;
Sent like a Comet, with less head than tail,
To charm and awe the frozen Russian nation.
Oh Russ, far ruder than your rugged Bears;
From diplomatic dues, dire deviation!
This Son of many Sires, now appears
A monument of modern innovation.
From diplomatic dues, dire deviation!
This Son of many Sires, now appears
A monument of modern innovation.
While Constantine the Chieftain's glory quell'd;
Grenville's and Howick's proud Administration
Fell to the dust,—small space of time beheld
The head and tail in mutual degradation.
Grenville's and Howick's proud Administration
Fell to the dust,—small space of time beheld
The head and tail in mutual degradation.
Shorn of his beams, of buoyant power depriv'd,
According to the laws of gravitation,
This Lord, from French and Scottish Kings deriv'd,
Wav'ring, unbalanc'd, soon must quit his station.
According to the laws of gravitation,
This Lord, from French and Scottish Kings deriv'd,
Wav'ring, unbalanc'd, soon must quit his station.
Oh, Puissant Lord! shall Canning dare impose
Your Sovereign's mandate? sad humiliation!
Leave Europe to her fate, and sullen close,
Tail-less and bootless, your negotiation.
Your Sovereign's mandate? sad humiliation!
Leave Europe to her fate, and sullen close,
Tail-less and bootless, your negotiation.
32
CHURCH AND KING,
AND DOWN WITH THE RUMP.
Field-marshal Broad-bottom determin'd to spring
A mine, that shou'd blow up the Church and the King;
So made ample confession, in Catholic hope;
Was absolv'd in due form, and then bless'd by the Pope.
A mine, that shou'd blow up the Church and the King;
So made ample confession, in Catholic hope;
Was absolv'd in due form, and then bless'd by the Pope.
Derry down, down, down derry down;
Down with the Rump then, and
Down derry down.
Down with the Rump then, and
Down derry down.
As the noise of the Workmen grew louder and louder,
Our valiant Old Monarch began to smell powder;
So he cried, as he drew forth his trusty Toledo,
“Let those fly, who will; Heav'n fail us if we do,”
Our valiant Old Monarch began to smell powder;
So he cried, as he drew forth his trusty Toledo,
“Let those fly, who will; Heav'n fail us if we do,”
Derry down, &c.
Friar Temple affimed, that the blast of the fire
Would blow down the walls, and demolish the spire;
And his myrmidons, during the triumph of arson,
Would carry the Chancel, and butcher the Parson.
Would blow down the walls, and demolish the spire;
And his myrmidons, during the triumph of arson,
Would carry the Chancel, and butcher the Parson.
Derry down, &c.
33
Then the felons advanc'd, full of hellish design,
In close columns, and slow, to give time to the mine;
When a petulant Whelp cried, “Quick, march!” in the van,
Then 'twas De'el take the hindmost, and onwards they ran.
In close columns, and slow, to give time to the mine;
When a petulant Whelp cried, “Quick, march!” in the van,
Then 'twas De'el take the hindmost, and onwards they ran.
Derry down, &c.
Deans, Rectors, and Prelates, were all in a stew;
Buz wigs, shovel hats, and lawn sleeves, all look'd blue
When they saw the Foe charging in headlong career,
And the “Faith's firm Defender” alone knew no fear.
Buz wigs, shovel hats, and lawn sleeves, all look'd blue
When they saw the Foe charging in headlong career,
And the “Faith's firm Defender” alone knew no fear.
Derry down, &c.
Thus too soon came the Papists, urg'd on by blind fate;
But your mine, when once fir'd, for no man can wait;
Off it went with a crack, as they cross'd its direction,
And sent them to wait for the next resurrection.
But your mine, when once fir'd, for no man can wait;
Off it went with a crack, as they cross'd its direction,
And sent them to wait for the next resurrection.
Derry down, &c.
Heads, arms, legs, and trunks, flew in strange disarray,
The Rumps of the Grenvilles alone dimm'd the day;
When the Baron's, the height of the firmament won,
Herschel swore to a total Eclipse of the sun.
The Rumps of the Grenvilles alone dimm'd the day;
When the Baron's, the height of the firmament won,
Herschel swore to a total Eclipse of the sun.
Derry down, &c.
34
Thus George and the Church 'scap'd these pestilent elves,
These miners, who nought could blow up but themselves;
Then Protestant Britons replenish your bumpers,
And drink “Church and King, and down with the rumpers!
These miners, who nought could blow up but themselves;
Then Protestant Britons replenish your bumpers,
And drink “Church and King, and down with the rumpers!
Derry down, &c.
35
A NEW LOYAL SONG,
BY A LOYAL SUBJECT.
Come listen, brave boys, while I sing;
In my feelings you'll all bear a part.
When my theme is the praise of our King,
I shall find a response in each heart.
In my feelings you'll all bear a part.
When my theme is the praise of our King,
I shall find a response in each heart.
On George, in his patriot course,
May the Heavens benignantly smile;
May he laugh at his foes, and their force,
Nor be duped by their cunning and guile.
May the Heavens benignantly smile;
May he laugh at his foes, and their force,
Nor be duped by their cunning and guile.
When the scourge of each Jacobin knave,
The bulwark and prop of the Crown,
Our Pilot, was laid in the grave,
And the Sun of Britannia went down,
The bulwark and prop of the Crown,
Our Pilot, was laid in the grave,
And the Sun of Britannia went down,
Our Sovereign, in 'midst of his woes,
With age and with sickness opprest,
On his conscience relied for repose,
And left to our virtue the rest.
With age and with sickness opprest,
On his conscience relied for repose,
And left to our virtue the rest.
36
And though faction on faction should strive
To plant in that conscience a thorn;
While there's one true-born Briton alive,
He shall laugh all their efforts to scorn.
To plant in that conscience a thorn;
While there's one true-born Briton alive,
He shall laugh all their efforts to scorn.
His people will cherish a King,
Who is faithful and true to his trust;
To our old Constitution we'll cling,
And crumble his foes in the dust.
Who is faithful and true to his trust;
To our old Constitution we'll cling,
And crumble his foes in the dust.
We have heard what Lord Howick can say,
His distinctions how subtle and keen!
Such a statesman as that may be Grey,
But his wit I suspect must be green.
His distinctions how subtle and keen!
Such a statesman as that may be Grey,
But his wit I suspect must be green.
When he talks of obtaining consent
Where he could not obtain approbation,
How indignant we feel, that he meant,
With such nonsense, to bubble the Nation.
Where he could not obtain approbation,
How indignant we feel, that he meant,
With such nonsense, to bubble the Nation.
O Grenville! With sorrow we own,
That we mourn over talents like thine,
When we see thee, thy high spirit flown,
With this mean, quibbling, junto combine.
That we mourn over talents like thine,
When we see thee, thy high spirit flown,
With this mean, quibbling, junto combine.
37
But high as thy genius we rate,
When we see thee from Loyalty swerve,
We will stand by our Church and our State,
And our Sovereign, whom God long preserve.
When we see thee from Loyalty swerve,
We will stand by our Church and our State,
And our Sovereign, whom God long preserve.
38
BLUE AND BUFF:
OR, THE INS OUT.
Come, sportive Muse, with plume satiric,
Describe each lawless, bold, empiric,
Who, with the Blue and Buffs' sad crew,
Now stripp'd in buff, shall look so blue.
Describe each lawless, bold, empiric,
Who, with the Blue and Buffs' sad crew,
Now stripp'd in buff, shall look so blue.
First paint L---d H---w---k, boist'rous, rough,
Dealer in wholesale quack'ry stuff,
Who, far beyond fam'd Katterfelt,
Prescrib'd what ne'er was seen or felt;
Lest Law and Reason in the lurch,
To mould the Senate, twist the Church:
But wand'ring once from Downing-street,
Great Buckingham's old dome to greet,
With grand Catholiconian pill,
Was lost—on Constitution-hill.
Dealer in wholesale quack'ry stuff,
Who, far beyond fam'd Katterfelt,
Prescrib'd what ne'er was seen or felt;
Lest Law and Reason in the lurch,
To mould the Senate, twist the Church:
But wand'ring once from Downing-street,
Great Buckingham's old dome to greet,
With grand Catholiconian pill,
Was lost—on Constitution-hill.
Next W---dh---m, metaphysic elf,
Who all things knows—except himself;
Three tedious hours who raves and talks
Of all that in his cranium stalks;
Whose regular ideas fear
Militia much, more Volunteer;
A wild inapplicable genius,
Scarce vers'd in policy's quæ genus;
In syntax yet more scantly read,
Without one concord in his head.
Who all things knows—except himself;
39
Of all that in his cranium stalks;
Whose regular ideas fear
Militia much, more Volunteer;
A wild inapplicable genius,
Scarce vers'd in policy's quæ genus;
In syntax yet more scantly read,
Without one concord in his head.
Now, Muse, direct the shaft of wit,
Where little P---tty apes great Pitt;
This year in woe-begone oration,
To Britons paints a bankrupt nation:
Resources all delapidate,
Taxation at extremest fate;
Whilst next this little, great, small man,
Heigh! presto! pass! by one bold plan,
Restores you all to peace and plenty;
The deuce is in't! won't this content ye?
With necromantic rod of Moses
(A twig cut from a bush of roses),
To ease at once your ev'ry fear,
Turns bear to bull, and bull to bear.
Where little P---tty apes great Pitt;
This year in woe-begone oration,
To Britons paints a bankrupt nation:
Resources all delapidate,
Taxation at extremest fate;
Whilst next this little, great, small man,
Heigh! presto! pass! by one bold plan,
Restores you all to peace and plenty;
The deuce is in't! won't this content ye?
With necromantic rod of Moses
(A twig cut from a bush of roses),
To ease at once your ev'ry fear,
Turns bear to bull, and bull to bear.
Nor miss, dear Muse, to gild my tale,
The gallant E*rl of L---d---e
Who late to Paris post was sent, to
Become the dupe of Benevento;
Hush'd to soft sleep like “Baby Bunting,”
Whilst Nap the Great went out “a-hunting.”
Or was it, say, thou bonny chiel,
Thy ardent love for Britain's weal,
That led thy steps, a peep to take
At thy great territorial stake;
The purchase of thine assignâts,
Thy Corso-Gallican contrâts:
At once th'opprobrium and solution,
Of all thy love for revolution.
The gallant E*rl of L---d---e
40
Become the dupe of Benevento;
Hush'd to soft sleep like “Baby Bunting,”
Whilst Nap the Great went out “a-hunting.”
Or was it, say, thou bonny chiel,
Thy ardent love for Britain's weal,
That led thy steps, a peep to take
At thy great territorial stake;
The purchase of thine assignâts,
Thy Corso-Gallican contrâts:
At once th'opprobrium and solution,
Of all thy love for revolution.
[_]
The following Lines should have been inserted after the
Words, “Of all thy Love for Revolution,” at Page 40.
104
Thalia see, and see with tears,
Thy long lost Sh---d---n appears;
He who, with more than Attic wit,
Could ev'ry human foible hit;
In Nature's happiest moment born
To grace the drama, not to scorn;
He who, with talents right directed,
A nation's virtue had protected;
An empire's morals had improv'd,
Enrich'd by all, by all belov'd:
But now behold, ah! sad reverse!
A trifling age, a bankrupt purse;
The leaf of life in yellow sear,
Nor honour, love, obedience near;
That troop of friends to real worth,
To hail its late return to earth;
But curses deep, not loud, proclaim
The spendthrift's want of timely shame;
Who never yet could pay a bill,
Or strive a promise to fulfil.
The Muse recoils, as something shock'd her,
To charge with harm the harmless D---ct---r;
When, unâ voce, all allow,
He would do right—if he knew how.
To charge with harm the harmless D---ct---r;
When, unâ voce, all allow,
He would do right—if he knew how.
But if, amongst this motley crew,
One man of real parts we view;
With mind for highest station fit;
The colleague, friend, yet foe of Pitt;
He to whose merits all men granted,
That Pitt's last list, one great name, wanted;
He who with every talent shone,
Except consistency alone;
“We smile if such a man there be,
“But weep if Grenville should be he.”
One man of real parts we view;
With mind for highest station fit;
The colleague, friend, yet foe of Pitt;
41
That Pitt's last list, one great name, wanted;
He who with every talent shone,
Except consistency alone;
“We smile if such a man there be,
“But weep if Grenville should be he.”
42
A GOSSIP'S STORY.
When Miss Catholic Bill, All the Talents' sweet child,
For her godfather's blessing at Court was presented,
He thought that she look'd rather froward and wild;
But they said she was innocent, docile, and mild;
So he gave—with reluctance—a kiss, and consented.
For her godfather's blessing at Court was presented,
He thought that she look'd rather froward and wild;
But they said she was innocent, docile, and mild;
So he gave—with reluctance—a kiss, and consented.
A little while after, he found his adopted
Had been sent by the Pope for the Talents to nurse;
He had reason to think that some dæmon had dropp'd it,
It was whelp'd with two horns, but the gossips had cropp'd it;
So he took back his blessing, and gave it his curse.
Had been sent by the Pope for the Talents to nurse;
He had reason to think that some dæmon had dropp'd it,
It was whelp'd with two horns, but the gossips had cropp'd it;
So he took back his blessing, and gave it his curse.
At this the two gossips went growling away,
Revenge in their bosom, and rage on their brow.
The first was a lady all clothed in Grey;
The next was a matron, converted, they say,
To the Catholic faith, by an Abbess at Stowe.
Revenge in their bosom, and rage on their brow.
The first was a lady all clothed in Grey;
The next was a matron, converted, they say,
To the Catholic faith, by an Abbess at Stowe.
43
All the Talents were now in a terrible fret,
Told their beads, cross'd themselves, and the dear little Lass:
The Abbess had promis'd to make her a pet,
Dame Moira to drill her, a she martinet,
Dame Windham to raise her a Levy en Mass.
Told their beads, cross'd themselves, and the dear little Lass:
The Abbess had promis'd to make her a pet,
Dame Moira to drill her, a she martinet,
Dame Windham to raise her a Levy en Mass.
When, lo! on a sudden, 'midst horrible din,
The nurs'ry was fill'd with a smoke and a smell,
And who but the Devil himself should come in:
He had borrow'd black L*d*rd*l*'s whiskers and grin:
Says he, “My dear gossips, the child is my kin,
“She'll be d---d in old England—I'll take her to ------.”
[Exit in fumo, et exeunt omnes.
The nurs'ry was fill'd with a smoke and a smell,
And who but the Devil himself should come in:
He had borrow'd black L*d*rd*l*'s whiskers and grin:
Says he, “My dear gossips, the child is my kin,
“She'll be d---d in old England—I'll take her to ------.”
44
UPON ONE OF THE BROAD BOTTOMS LAYING IN A LARGE STORE OF PAPER, &c. A FEW DAYS BEFORE HIS DISMISSAL FROM OFFICE.
Temple, with saving knowledge grac'd,
By Grenville high in office plac'd,
Before he left his Board
Borrow'd a lesson from the ant,
And provident 'gainst future want,
His paper-closet stor'd
By Grenville high in office plac'd,
Before he left his Board
Borrow'd a lesson from the ant,
And provident 'gainst future want,
His paper-closet stor'd
With twenty reams to serve his head,
(For he can write as well as read),
Of foolscap, post, or crown;
But for his bottom, broad as two,
Double that number wouldn't do,
Of common whity-brown.
(For he can write as well as read),
Of foolscap, post, or crown;
But for his bottom, broad as two,
Double that number wouldn't do,
Of common whity-brown.
By some he was advis'd to try
Large blotting, or the small demy;
The last in size must fail:
Twelve reams o' the first he took for trial,
At length he fix'd on super-royal,
For timber, head and tail.
Large blotting, or the small demy;
The last in size must fail:
Twelve reams o' the first he took for trial,
At length he fix'd on super-royal,
For timber, head and tail.
45
AN UNCLE'S ADVICE TO HIS NEPHEW,
RESPECTING THE PROPER USE OF GOVERNMENT PAPER.
BY PAPIRIUS CURSOR.
Templum a me quam dilectum,
Grenville to his Nephew said,
Eheu perdidisti tectum!
Temple sigh'd, and shook his head.
Grenville to his Nephew said,
Eheu perdidisti tectum!
Temple sigh'd, and shook his head.
Why did'st order, tantum chartæ:
Cousin! wer't thou like Scriblerus,
Doctus in scribendi arte,
With Freemantle for thy clerus?
Cousin! wer't thou like Scriblerus,
Doctus in scribendi arte,
With Freemantle for thy clerus?
Eighty reams were plusquam satis;
They would serve you sine fine;
Send one half (thou'st had them gratis),
Temple! templo Cloacinæ.
They would serve you sine fine;
Send one half (thou'st had them gratis),
Temple! templo Cloacinæ.
46
Foolscap, post, or thickest crown, Sir,
Suit the heads of half our party;
But for bottom like my own, Sir,
Why not cut up Magna Charta?
Suit the heads of half our party;
But for bottom like my own, Sir,
Why not cut up Magna Charta?
47
THE NEW-OLD OPPOSITION.
BY JOHN BULL.
It is said, the Great Men, who are seiz'd with the pouts,
At their suddenly alter'd condition;
Who so late were the Ins, and so soon were the Outs,
Have decreed a severe Opposition.
At their suddenly alter'd condition;
Who so late were the Ins, and so soon were the Outs,
Have decreed a severe Opposition.
Nor will it be wonder'd at, greatly, if those
Who're depriv'd of unmerited treasures,
As of old, should determine, the Men, to oppose,
Though their consciences sanction the Measures!
Who're depriv'd of unmerited treasures,
As of old, should determine, the Men, to oppose,
Though their consciences sanction the Measures!
Such threats are, by Britons, too well understood
To create any just apprehensions;
Nor can they, who, in power, accomplish no good,
Now appal us by evil intentions.
To create any just apprehensions;
Nor can they, who, in power, accomplish no good,
Now appal us by evil intentions.
48
ON A PARLIAMENTARY MOVER.
When treach'rous fiends, a deadly flame,Would spread, throughout the land,
How could they better light the same,
Than with a hot fire-Brand!
ON THE REFORM OF THE LATE ADMINISTRATION.
For twenty years, when out of place,
Whig Patriots bawl'd about Reforms,
And stoutly swore, that, change their case,
They'd drive the Placemen out by swarms.
Whig Patriots bawl'd about Reforms,
And stoutly swore, that, change their case,
They'd drive the Placemen out by swarms.
When in, they threaten'd gen'ral rout,
But how, good Lord! did they begin?
For ev'ry Placeman they turn'd out,
They brought ten needy Patriots in.
But how, good Lord! did they begin?
For ev'ry Placeman they turn'd out,
They brought ten needy Patriots in.
49
ON A FORMER COALITION ADMINISTRATION;
NOT INAPPLICABLE TO RECENT EVENTS.
Omnific Jove! avert thy England's woes,And crush the pride of her perfidious foes;
Redeem a Monarch, whom all virtues grace,
From the discordant Blockheads now in place!
THE TASTE OF THE TIMES.
Some whim or fancy pleases every age;For Talents premature 'tis now the rage.
In music how great Handel would have smil'd,
T'have seen whole crowds in raptures with a child.
A Garrick we have had in little Betty,
And now, we're told, we have a Pitt in Petty.
All must allow, since thus it is decreed,
He is a very Petty Pitt indeed.
50
THE RESIGNATION.
Alas! my good friends, All the Talents are gone:What a perilous state for the Nation!
Yet though the sad case is so desperate grown,
We rejoice to possess Resignation.
THE TEMPLES AND THE CHURCH.
Templa quam dilecta!
(The Family Motto of Earl Temple.)
Ye loungers, us'd each morn to call
In idle round at gay Whitehall,
Cease now to urge your vain research!
The Temple's mov'd, to save the Church.
51
THE TALENTS ASLEEP.
BY QUIZ.
How All the Talents cock'd their noses
At Castlereagh's sweet “Bed of Roses:”
The couch receiv'd, with taunts and scorns,
“A Bed of Roses!”—say, of thorns.
At Castlereagh's sweet “Bed of Roses:”
The couch receiv'd, with taunts and scorns,
“A Bed of Roses!”—say, of thorns.
Yet sure 'twas soft as down inviting,
The soul in opiate dews to steep;
For, with the world around them fighting,
Lo! All the Talents fast asleep.
The soul in opiate dews to steep;
For, with the world around them fighting,
Lo! All the Talents fast asleep.
IMPROMPTU.
BY FLAGELLATOR.
How dare the men who, nothing loath,
Would make our Sov'reign break his oath
At their opponents' conscience sneer!
Oh, well turn'd out! for sure there's cause
To think they'd break all human laws,
Who, for divine ones, have no fear.
52
PITT AND FOX.
Britannia's boast, her glory, and her pride,Pitt! in his country's service liv'd and died.
Fully resolv'd at last, like Pitt, to do,
For once, to serve his Country, Fox died too.
GRENVILLE, OR HOWICK.
Howick attacks with cautious art;Grenville with rage assails:
Who bears the purest patriot heart?—
Toss up for heads or tails.
ON AN EVENT AT PETERSBURGH.
BY METELLUS.
Grenville! to soothe Belinda's ire,
Dan Pope, he bade th'Aonian choir
Her stolen lock bewail:
Now bid the Pope of Rome, I pray,
Pour forth the elegiac lay
O'er Douglas' ravish'd tail!
53
GENERAL EMANCIPATION.
BY D--- P---.
The Talents, on Emancipation bent,
Tow'rds Catholics direct their first intent:
But foil'd in this, produce, by resignation,
The whole Community's Emancipation.
IMPROMPTU.
BY J--- M---.
Says Grenville to Howick, pray what is this thing,
Which creates such a fuss in the Nation?
It Conscience is call'd, and, about it, the King
Has stirr'd up immense botheration.
Which creates such a fuss in the Nation?
It Conscience is call'd, and, about it, the King
Has stirr'd up immense botheration.
This Conscience, said Howick, which, by the bye,
Has put us most cursedly out,
I've discover'd to be, between you and I,
A thing we know nothing about.
Has put us most cursedly out,
I've discover'd to be, between you and I,
A thing we know nothing about.
54
ON THE LATE GLORIOUS MAJORITIES.
Come, fellow-orators! shake the honest hand!What tho' the Talents leave us in the lurch,
Be not dismay'd! for Lords and Commons stand
Firm by their King, their Country, and their Church.
THE TALENT WANTED.
BY GEORGE W---N, OF WINTON.
The Ministers out, we may fairly descant
On the Talents they have, and the Talents they want;
And when weigh'd in the scale, it clearly the case is,
They just want the Talent to keep in their places.
55
THE BOOK-WORM:
AN EPIGRAM.
Scholars are book-worms, it is said,Because by paper they are fed:
Temple's a book-worm, then it seems,
For he has swallow'd ninety reams!
ROMULUS AND REMUS:
AN EPIGRAM.
Says Grenville—to our Church at home,I still prefer the Church at Rome;
But, Temple! why this noise and vapour,
About your ninety reams of paper?
No matter what the Public deem us—
I'm Romulus, and you are Reamus.
56
EPITAPHS FOR ALL THE TALENTS.
[_]
As All the Talents are now buried, and as probably a Monument will be erected, and an Inscription required, to their Memory, I offer the choice of two Epitaphs for the occasion.
[Hic jacent All the Talents, Wisdom, Wit]
Hic jacent All the Talents, Wisdom, Wit:But heed, good reader—not the bones of Pitt.
[Here All the Talents lie, by St. George slain]
Here All the Talents lie, by St. George slain,And never, reader, will they rise again!
THE END.
57
ELIJAH'S MANTLE:[_]
Various inaccurate copies of the following beautiful Verses
having obtained circulation, the Editor has been so fortunate
as to prevail upon the Author to favour him with
a correct transcript of the Poem, which is here presented
to the Public in its original state, as it was written
in February 1806.
[_]
Various inaccurate copies of the following beautiful Verses having obtained circulation, the Editor has been so fortunate as to prevail upon the Author to favour him with a correct transcript of the Poem, which is here presented to the Public in its original state, as it was written in February 1806.
A TRIBUTE TO THE MEMORY OF THE RIGHT HONOURABLE WILLIAM PITT.
I
When by th'Almighty's dread command,Elijah, call'd from Israel's land,
Rose in the sacred flame,
His Mantle good Elisha caught,
And, with the Prophet's spirit fraught,
Her second hope became.
58
II
In Pitt our Israel saw combin'dThe Patriot's heart—the Prophet's mind,
Elijah's spirit here:
Now, sad reverse!—that spirit rest,
No confidence, no hope is left:
For no Elijah's near.
III
Is there, among the greedy bandWho've seiz'd on power, with harpy hand,
And Patriot worth assume,
One on whom public faith can rest—
One fit to wear Elijah's vest,
And cheer a Nation's gloom?
IV
Grenville!—to aid thy Treasury fame,A portion of Pitt's Mantle claim,
His generous ardour feel;
Resolve, 'bove sordid self, to soar,
Amidst Exchequer gold be poor!
Thy wealth—the public weal.
59
V
Fox!—if, on thee, some remnant fall,The shred may, to thy mind, recall
Those hours of loud debate,
When thy unhallow'd lips be-prais'd
“The glorious fabric” traitors rais'd
On Bourbon's fallen state—
VI
Thy soul let Pitt's example fire,With patriot zeal thy tongue inspire,
Spite of thy Gallic leaven;
And teach thee, in thy latest day,
His form of prayer, (if thou canst pray)
“O save my Country, Heaven!”
VII
Windham,—if e'er thy sorrows flowFor private loss or public woe,
Thy rigid brow unbend:
Tears, over Cæsar, Brutus shed,
His hatred warr'd not with the dead—
And Pitt was once thy friend.
60
VIII
Does Envy bid thee not to mourn?Hold then his Mantle up to scorn,
His well-earn'd Fame assail;
Of funeral honours strip his corse,
And at his virtues till thou'rt hoarse,
Like curst Thersites rail!
IX
Illustrious Roscius of the State!New breech'd and harness'd for debate,
Thou wonder of thy age!
Petty or Betty art thou hight,
By Granta sent to strut thy night
On Stephen's bustling stage?
X
Pitt's 'Chequer robe 'tis thine to wear:Take of his Mantle too a share,
'Twill aid thy Ways and Means;
And should Fat Jack, and his Cabal,
Cry “Rob us the Exchequer, Hal!”
'Twill charm away the fiends.
61
XI
Sage Palinurus of the realm!By Vincent call'd to take the helm!
And play his proxy's part;
Dost thou or star, or compass know?
Canst reef aloft—or hand below?
Hast conn'd the shipman's chart?
XII
No! from Pitt's Mantle tear a rag,Enough to serve thee for a flag,
And hoist it on thy mast:
Beneath that sign (our prosperous star)
Shall future Nelsons rush to war,
And rival victories past.
XIII
Sidmouth—though low his head is laidWho call'd thee from thy native shade,
And gave thee second birth;—
Gave thee the sweets of Power and Place,
The tufted gown—the gilded mace,
And rear'd thy puny worth:
62
XIV
Think how his Mantle wrapp'd thee round:Is one of equal virtue found
Among thy new Compeers?
Or can thy cloak of Amiens stuff,
Once laugh'd to scorn by Blue and Buff,
Screen thee from Windham's jeers?
XV
When Faction threaten'd Britain's land,Thy new-made friends—a desperate band,
Like Ahab—stood reprov'd:
Pitt's powerful tongue their rage could check;
His counsel sav'd, 'midst general wreck,
The Israel that he lov'd.
XVI
Yes, honour'd shade; whilst near thy graveThe letter'd sage, and chieftain brave,
The votive marble claim;
O'er thy cold corse—the public tear
Congeal'd, a chrystal shrine shall rear,
Unsullied as thy Fame.
63
THE UTI POSSIDETIS, AND STATUS QUO.
[_]
In regard to the following admirable satire, the Editor has to
acknowledge that it was first published in the Anti-Jacobin
Review and Magazine for March, and was dated the 5th of
February. It was republished in the Appendix to vol. xxvi.
of the same Review, with explanatory and critical notes
by the Reviewer, who, in compliance with the Editor's
request, liberally gave him leave to annex the notes hereto.
However, as they might have been thought somewhat too
long for the present purpose, he refers such of his readers
as may desire the perusal to the loyal fountain-head.
[_]
In regard to the following admirable satire, the Editor has to acknowledge that it was first published in the Anti-Jacobin Review and Magazine for March, and was dated the 5th of February. It was republished in the Appendix to vol. xxvi. of the same Review, with explanatory and critical notes by the Reviewer, who, in compliance with the Editor's request, liberally gave him leave to annex the notes hereto. However, as they might have been thought somewhat too long for the present purpose, he refers such of his readers as may desire the perusal to the loyal fountain-head.
BY THE AUTHOR OF ELIJAH'S MANTLE.
I
Ye Ministers of Britain's State,Form'd of all talent, good and great,
Like Grotius vers'd in treaties;
What, though abroad ye marr'd the scene,
Tell us what 'tis at home you mean
By th' uti possidetis?
64
II
Is it that you possess the storeOf merit that you had before
You took the public duty?
If that be all the praise you want,
The Opposition Bench will grant
Your possidetis uti.
III
But, if we judge by what is past,Say how your merit's to be class'd,
Where worth's, where wisdom's seat is
Made up of strange discordant parts?
None, but “the Searcher of all hearts,”
Can tell quid possidetis.
IV
Was patriot Virtue erst your guide,Or did ye list on Faction's side,
And plead her cause?—siletis!
Maidstone's and Newgate's Rolls have nam'd
The Patriot Whigs for whom ye claim'd
The uti possidetis.
65
V
United now in Friendship's bands,What Principle connects your hands?
Your Union's basis show:
Is it the Treasury's Rosy Bed?
Or is it—that ye view with dread
Your wretched status quo?
VI
If on Finance you build your fame,To Pitt's account transfer your claim,
To him—its state debetis:
Last year—a woeful tale ye feign'd,
Of “wasted funds, resources drain'd,”
A bankrupt possidetis.
VII
Courted by Fox in language sweet,Could Benevent refuse to treat?
Politeness would compel him:
'Tis strange, that Peace should look so queerly
On men who fraterniz'd so dearly
At Paris, ante Bellum.
66
VIII
Though favour'd Yarmouth might be coax'd,Fox was too cunning to be hoax'd—
Maitland a Scot discreet is;
From such Negotiators, say,
How could your Basis slip away,
Your uti possidetis?
IX
When Pitt's good genius bless'd the land,No fond regard for Talleyrand
Mix'd with his country's duty;
He—for his Sovereign and the Nation
Reserv'd his high Consideration,
Nor would have left—to Implication
Our possidetis uti.
X
Allied to Pitt, in early day,Grenville! the People mark'd your way,
And deem'd you—his Achates;
With him your patriot ardour fled,
But left one Maxim in its stead—
The ut possideatis.
67
XI
To you (their Treasury Baal), now,Whigs, neutraliz'd with Tories, bow,
And crowd to touch your shoe-tie:
O'Connor's Friends shall praise your name,
And future Pains and Hardys claim
Their possidetis uti.
XII
The Brissotine your hand shall kiss!Spirit of Chatham! know'st thou this?
Ye Pittites! quid ridetis?
Grenvilles and Temples long ago
To British Worthies gave at Stow
The uti possidetis.
XIII
Grenville! though in your state arrayYou number Windham, Petty, Grey,
Will none of them play booty?
These Whigs are difficult to tame,
They must oppose, and scout your claim
To th'possidetis uti.
68
XIV
Though pure your heart, and clean your hands,And high your rate of merit stands,
Nil valet quod meretis:
Some Brew'r, in rude but licens'd speech,
Sans proof—that merit shall impeach,
And quash your possidetis.
XV
Grey, tutor'd long in Fox's school,By mild St. Vincent taught to rule,
A loftier port will show;
Haply your Cabinet divide,
Nor deign to leave your Tory side
Their half o'th' status quo.
XVI
Yet, Howick! if thou'rt still the sameAs ere this alias grac'd thy name,
What are thy merits? tell 'em!
Sea-Statesman thou a-ground would'st be!
Land-Statesman thou art now at Sea!
Hoc statu geris Bellum.
69
XVII
Nurtur'd in Malagrida's lap,Imbibing Politics with pap,
Petty!—thy worth we know:
As Solon sage in earliest youth,
A Tully, ere you shed a tooth;
This was your status quo.
XVIII
What are your state acquirements now?The nimble step,—or graceful bow,
To dancing nymphs a treat is:
Ye Tellers of the Exchequer's score!
Count on one Petty-tally more,
Dum Petty possidetis.
XIX
Windham! thy talents who can class?Shall I detail 'em, or, en masse,
With thy new levies rate 'em?
Though France kill off our vet'ran force,
Thy Bills provide a second course
To feed our Belli-statum.
70
XX
Thy weather-gauge is mov'd by squalls;With Ins and Outs ascends and falls:
Now at the dog-star's heat 'tis;
Thy schemes in quick rotation twirl'd,
Would change the poles, nor leave the world
Their uti possidetis.
XXI
With Craufurd for thy bully-back,What windmills will ye next attack?
What pastry overthrow?
Pitt's quota men, and volunteers,
Stript of their jackets, hang their ears,
And take their status quo.
XXII
Cadmus sow'd serpents' teeth of old,Arm'd men sprung up, and were so bold,
No constable could quell 'em!
Try this! Red-coats like prawns or shrimps,
Arm'd at all points, shall show thy crimps
The status ante Bellum.
71
XXIII
Now should Napoleon's angry hostIn Boulogne's Flota brave our coast,
No matter where our Fleet is:
A fig for gun-boats and corvettes,
Martello towers and martinets,
In posse possidetis.
XXIV
Pure as the fount from which it rose,Britain! thy stream of justice flows,
Ye vallies!—nunc cantetis.
Should party feuds pollute its source,
Or Faction interrupt its course,
Nil tanti possidetis.
XXV
Ye Bacons, Coke, and Hardwicke, say!(Juris periti of your day,
Astute in points and cases),
Was it on frothy declamation,
Or deep and close investigation,
You form'd your legal basis?
72
XXVI
When Keeper Hatton held the Seals,Though he was tripping with his heels
And light fantastic toe;
Bess knew, before she gave the Mace,
That Loyalty, not less than grace,
Compos'd his status quo.
XXVII
Had Maidstone's Patriot sought his aid,He would as soon have vouch'd for Cade;
Erskine and Co.—tacetis:
'Tis strange (to judge him by the sequel)
You e'er should think his worth could equal
Your uti possidetis.
XXVIII
When Pitt the British Senate grac'd,Erskine! thy judgment was unbrac'd,
Thy tongue forgot its duty!
Now Solomon must yield to thee,
And Seymour's friend will guarantee
Your possidetis uti.
73
XXIX
Since Amiens' farce amus'd the land,Doctor, hast thou improv'd thy hand
At making war or treaties?
With brother Hiley at thy back,
Which is the Statesman, which the Quack,
Quid ambo possidetis?
XXX
With these, and Ministers like these,England! canst thou be “ill at ease?”
Vain are thy fears—dispel 'em!
With all the Talent of the Nation
Focuss'd in Cab'net concentration,
Securè geris bellum.
XXXI
And you,—ye Pilots of the Realm!Trim well your sails, and mind the helm!
Your charge—a proud first rate is;
But, should you wreck the nation's hope,
O! may her anchor lend a rope,
Quod vos possideatis.
74
GREY'S LONG STORY, OR THE NEW MOUNSEER NONG TONG PAW.
BY THE AUTHOR OF THE BULL OF POPE PIUS VII.
“An I have not ballads made on you all, and sung to filthy tunes, let a cup of sack be my poison.”
Motto from Henry IV. selected by the Duke of Norfolk.
My good Lord, the Viscount,
Had a tale to recount,
And a long pro and con to go through;
But with iffing and anding,
And not understanding,
Neither he nor his friends what was meant ever knew.
O rare Monsieur Nong Tong Paw!
Had a tale to recount,
And a long pro and con to go through;
But with iffing and anding,
And not understanding,
Neither he nor his friends what was meant ever knew.
O rare Monsieur Nong Tong Paw!
75
So he draw up a Bill,
Such as, with Grey goose quill,
Ne'er was penn'd, for an Irish toleration;
Which turn'd all dissenters
At once to conventers,
By dispensing with faith in the nation.
O rare Monsieur Nong Tong Paw!
Such as, with Grey goose quill,
Ne'er was penn'd, for an Irish toleration;
Which turn'd all dissenters
At once to conventers,
By dispensing with faith in the nation.
O rare Monsieur Nong Tong Paw!
But honey, cried Pat,
I ne'er ask'd for that,
And John Bull ask'd for nothing—confound 'em!
But to leave us alone,
With the King on the Throne,
Our religion and laws as they found 'em.
O poor Monsieur Nong Tong Paw!
I ne'er ask'd for that,
And John Bull ask'd for nothing—confound 'em!
But to leave us alone,
With the King on the Throne,
Our religion and laws as they found 'em.
O poor Monsieur Nong Tong Paw!
At this Grenville swore
(Though so pious before)
That Statesman or Saint it would ruffle,
To be dragg'd in a fray
By this blundering Grey,
And be stript to the skin in the scuffle;
This comes of your Nong Tong Paw.
(Though so pious before)
That Statesman or Saint it would ruffle,
To be dragg'd in a fray
By this blundering Grey,
And be stript to the skin in the scuffle;
This comes of your Nong Tong Paw.
76
Cries Whitbread, This ruin
Is all of your brewing,
With your bitters you've spoil'd the whole vat;
Had you learnt to admire
Church and King's old entire,
We had ne'er been thus stale all and flat.
O flat Monsieur Nong Tong Paw!
Is all of your brewing,
With your bitters you've spoil'd the whole vat;
Had you learnt to admire
Church and King's old entire,
We had ne'er been thus stale all and flat.
O flat Monsieur Nong Tong Paw!
Friend Howick, quoth Sherry,
This farce is not merry,
We're hiss'd by box, gallery, and pit;
To exit our crew,
And what would you all do,
Like me, must you live on your wit?
Alas, Monsieur Nong Tong Paw!
This farce is not merry,
We're hiss'd by box, gallery, and pit;
To exit our crew,
And what would you all do,
Like me, must you live on your wit?
Alas, Monsieur Nong Tong Paw!
Says Master Finance,
You've call'd the wrong dance,
And the ball is broke up 'midst your parley;
Instead of “John Bull,”
Your solemn numskull
Has bawl'd “O'er the water to Charley:”
A plague of your Nong Tong Paw!
You've call'd the wrong dance,
And the ball is broke up 'midst your parley;
Instead of “John Bull,”
Your solemn numskull
Has bawl'd “O'er the water to Charley:”
A plague of your Nong Tong Paw!
77
Nor waltz nor allemand
Could you understand,
Your cotillon with blunders abounded;
Your Scotch steps were bad,
Irish shuffle quite mad,
And our dance prov'd confusion confounded;
So we're out with your Nong Tong Paw.
Could you understand,
Your cotillon with blunders abounded;
Your Scotch steps were bad,
Irish shuffle quite mad,
And our dance prov'd confusion confounded;
So we're out with your Nong Tong Paw.
Now Patriots all,
Be warn'd by this fall,
And take as the surest of rules,
That to 'mine Church and Throne,
Though to the work prone,
A blunderer's the worst of all fools:
O poor Monsieur Nong Tong Paw.
Be warn'd by this fall,
And take as the surest of rules,
That to 'mine Church and Throne,
Though to the work prone,
A blunderer's the worst of all fools:
O poor Monsieur Nong Tong Paw.
78
THE LION, HORSE, FOX, AND OTHER BEASTS.
AN ALLEGORICAL TALE.
BY THE AUTHOR OF “FLAGELLUM FLAGELLATED.”
“Qui capit, ille facit.”
Once on a time, no matter where,
A Fox prowl'd out to take the air:
Long had he sigh'd for the enjoyment
Of that best thing yclep'd employment—
Oft had he seen a Royal brood,
And oft had long'd to taste their blood:
For years had tried each various art,
And well this Fox could play his part;
Could cringe, could fawn, as Courtiers do,
When a good place they have in view;
But not succeeding, he could rail,
And snarl, and bark, and wag his tail.
A Fox prowl'd out to take the air:
Long had he sigh'd for the enjoyment
Of that best thing yclep'd employment—
Oft had he seen a Royal brood,
And oft had long'd to taste their blood:
For years had tried each various art,
And well this Fox could play his part;
Could cringe, could fawn, as Courtiers do,
When a good place they have in view;
But not succeeding, he could rail,
And snarl, and bark, and wag his tail.
This Fox was never known to blush—
Fierce were his eyes, and broad his brush;
Of various colours, shape, and hue;
Nay, some affirm, 'twas buff and blue—
Strange it appears, but yet 'tis true.
Fierce were his eyes, and broad his brush;
79
Nay, some affirm, 'twas buff and blue—
Strange it appears, but yet 'tis true.
The Royal Lion ne'er could bear
To his false tales to lend an ear:
And though he flatter'd, lied, and swore,
No Fox could ever love him more,
Yet all this cant he ne'er believ'd,
Nor by his arts could be deceiv'd.
To his false tales to lend an ear:
And though he flatter'd, lied, and swore,
No Fox could ever love him more,
Yet all this cant he ne'er believ'd,
Nor by his arts could be deceiv'd.
The Royal Lion, with despair,
Saw this sad Fox cajole his Heir,
And lead him fairly by the nose,
His royal wishes to oppose.
This griev'd th'illustrious Father's heart;
He bade Old Reynard straight depart,
And never thenceforth dare approach
His royal person, or his coach.
Nay, smile not, reader, for I say
My tale resembles those of Gay,
Who gave to birds and beasts, you know,
The use of speech, both Fox and Crow.
Read but his Hare and many Friends—
Wretched he who on them depends.
Of this, let me, Sir, then avail,
And freely thus pursue my tale;
Give speech to birds, and also beasts;
Nay, ask them too, to city feasts.
Saw this sad Fox cajole his Heir,
And lead him fairly by the nose,
His royal wishes to oppose.
This griev'd th'illustrious Father's heart;
He bade Old Reynard straight depart,
And never thenceforth dare approach
His royal person, or his coach.
Nay, smile not, reader, for I say
My tale resembles those of Gay,
Who gave to birds and beasts, you know,
The use of speech, both Fox and Crow.
Read but his Hare and many Friends—
Wretched he who on them depends.
Of this, let me, Sir, then avail,
And freely thus pursue my tale;
Give speech to birds, and also beasts;
Nay, ask them too, to city feasts.
80
Soon as Fox heard the order gave,
He storm'd, he swore, at times did rave:
Went round to ev'ry beast he knew,
And mix'd up lies with what was true.
Some smil'd, some sneer'd, some gave applause
And swore they would support his cause.
He storm'd, he swore, at times did rave:
Went round to ev'ry beast he knew,
And mix'd up lies with what was true.
Some smil'd, some sneer'd, some gave applause
And swore they would support his cause.
These were a crew of all descriptions,
And to uphold him, made subscriptions.
Reynard went round and squeez'd each paw,
And swore their will should be his law.
All that he wanted was their voice,
To shew the world he was their choice.
In saying this, the Fox well knew
The temper of this motley crew;
And that the magic word of Freedom
Was the right vein in which to bleed 'em.
Freely they bled—Liberty—Fox,
Drew the last penny from the box;
Whilst Reynard laughed at his ease,
As when the Crow let fall the cheese.
And to uphold him, made subscriptions.
Reynard went round and squeez'd each paw,
And swore their will should be his law.
All that he wanted was their voice,
To shew the world he was their choice.
In saying this, the Fox well knew
The temper of this motley crew;
And that the magic word of Freedom
Was the right vein in which to bleed 'em.
Freely they bled—Liberty—Fox,
Drew the last penny from the box;
Whilst Reynard laughed at his ease,
As when the Crow let fall the cheese.
Just so this cunning Prince of Bilks
Turn'd out—a Liberty and Wilkes;
For then this Fox by other beasts
Was ask'd to sev'ral city feasts:
And sure whenever he went there
Was instant voted in the chair.
His speech was soft, was kind, and civil,
Not much unlike a Master Devil;
Nay, Belzee's self could not outvie him,
And well, I'm sure, could not outlie him.
His speeches suited just the times,
Which gave a varnish to all crimes.
Turn'd out—a Liberty and Wilkes;
For then this Fox by other beasts
Was ask'd to sev'ral city feasts:
And sure whenever he went there
Was instant voted in the chair.
81
Not much unlike a Master Devil;
Nay, Belzee's self could not outvie him,
And well, I'm sure, could not outlie him.
His speeches suited just the times,
Which gave a varnish to all crimes.
“You are all equal,” said the Fox,
“Nor Lion better than the Ox.”
“Nor Lion better than the Ox.”
This speech was sure to gain applause,
Which trampled under feet all laws.
The Sheep would bleat, the Asses bray'd,
At ev'ry word Old Reynard said.
The Monkies chatter'd forth his praise,
Commending all his artful ways.
When the Baboon, to shew his parts,
Propos'd a plan, too near their hearts:
Which trampled under feet all laws.
The Sheep would bleat, the Asses bray'd,
At ev'ry word Old Reynard said.
The Monkies chatter'd forth his praise,
Commending all his artful ways.
When the Baboon, to shew his parts,
Propos'd a plan, too near their hearts:
“Let's pull the Lion from his den,
And make Old Reynard King of Men.”
Bray, roar, and groan, make ev'ry noise,
Expressive of most beastly joys!
As loud as when Sir Francis spoke
Against all jails, or freedom's yoke;
For beasts, like men, are not inclin'd,
In any way, to be confin'd.
And make Old Reynard King of Men.”
Bray, roar, and groan, make ev'ry noise,
Expressive of most beastly joys!
As loud as when Sir Francis spoke
Against all jails, or freedom's yoke;
For beasts, like men, are not inclin'd,
In any way, to be confin'd.
As soon as order was restor'd
At their great, noisy, beastly board,
Reynard, by trite insinuation,
Declin'd the royal situation;
For well he knew, or soon, or late,
Hanging would be his certain fate;
And wisely did their ardour check,
To keep the halter from his neck.
At their great, noisy, beastly board,
82
Declin'd the royal situation;
For well he knew, or soon, or late,
Hanging would be his certain fate;
And wisely did their ardour check,
To keep the halter from his neck.
“Well,” quoth the Wolf, “at least be then
Of beasts the king, if not of men;
And I declare it quite decorous
That Pidcock should be brought before us,
Who, in disgrace of this our land,
Keeps a Bastile upon the Strand,
Where I've a brother close confin'd
Merely for speaking of his mind,
And saying, that he'd like to see
All royal heads upon that tree,
Nam'd by French Monkies, Liberty.”
Of beasts the king, if not of men;
And I declare it quite decorous
That Pidcock should be brought before us,
Who, in disgrace of this our land,
Keeps a Bastile upon the Strand,
Where I've a brother close confin'd
Merely for speaking of his mind,
And saying, that he'd like to see
All royal heads upon that tree,
Nam'd by French Monkies, Liberty.”
The Lynx too swore, he had another
Whose crime was merely that of murder;
And what you'll think most strange and rare is,
That Pidcock is a second Aris.
Whose crime was merely that of murder;
And what you'll think most strange and rare is,
That Pidcock is a second Aris.
“Haste, drag him forth,” aloud they bellow,
“We'll hang up the inhuman fellow.”
When, lo! to stop their brutal force,
Loud neigh'd the bold, intrepid Horse:
“The champion of his king and laws,
The great protector of their cause.”
And as the noble Horse drew near,
The Wolf and Fox both shook with fear.
His eyes indignant flash'd with fire,
Just like his noble godlike Sire;
And thus he spoke: “Ye rebel crew,
What mischief have ye in your view!
Ye know not all the shoals and rocks
On which you're steering by this Fox;
Ye know not half his wily arts
To gain your weak and wicked hearts;
With which he'd lead you by the nose,
And bring some lives to fatal close.
No longer then his councils heed,
But prove yourselves of British breed,
Who the last drop of blood would shed
To shield the noble Lion's head.
Has not the Sovereign of all Earth
Made him your Ruler from his birth?
And will you wickedly presume
To place another in his room?
On Virtue's basis stands his throne;
Protect it then as if your own:
Mild are the laws, and only meant
For cruel beasts a punishment.
Have not the wicked, by his breath,
Been sav'd from ignominious death?
How many now had not been here,
Their tongues to wag, or heads to rear,
If justice had been done to those
Who now his royal will oppose?
You'll be abhorr'd by God and Man,
If you pursue this Fox's plan.
Shame on ye all, ungrateful crew,
Traitors to King and Country too!”
“We'll hang up the inhuman fellow.”
83
Loud neigh'd the bold, intrepid Horse:
“The champion of his king and laws,
The great protector of their cause.”
And as the noble Horse drew near,
The Wolf and Fox both shook with fear.
His eyes indignant flash'd with fire,
Just like his noble godlike Sire;
And thus he spoke: “Ye rebel crew,
What mischief have ye in your view!
Ye know not all the shoals and rocks
On which you're steering by this Fox;
Ye know not half his wily arts
To gain your weak and wicked hearts;
With which he'd lead you by the nose,
And bring some lives to fatal close.
No longer then his councils heed,
But prove yourselves of British breed,
Who the last drop of blood would shed
To shield the noble Lion's head.
Has not the Sovereign of all Earth
Made him your Ruler from his birth?
And will you wickedly presume
To place another in his room?
On Virtue's basis stands his throne;
Protect it then as if your own:
84
For cruel beasts a punishment.
Have not the wicked, by his breath,
Been sav'd from ignominious death?
How many now had not been here,
Their tongues to wag, or heads to rear,
If justice had been done to those
Who now his royal will oppose?
You'll be abhorr'd by God and Man,
If you pursue this Fox's plan.
Shame on ye all, ungrateful crew,
Traitors to King and Country too!”
The Fox drew back at this bold speech,
And stalk'd behind the Bear's large breech;
For well he knew 't would nought avail,
And truth o'er falsehood must prevail.
For months this Fox was never heard,
Nor at their councils e'er appear'd;
For those who saw the noble Horse,
Felt all his reas'ning and its force;
So like our Pitt, you'd swear, indeed,
He'd sprung from the same Patriot breed,
Who, scorning all base fear and dread,
Boldly crush'd down Rebellion's head.
Ah! would he were but now alive,
To force the Hornets from the hive,
Who buzz around the Royal Throne,
Providing only for their own!
As Kings are made by Bonaparte,
Supporters of his guilty heart;
So they, to prop their forc'd commands,
Distribute stars and bloody hands
Amongst their motley, needy crew,
In fortune poor, in honour too;
Gamesters, who glory when they cheat
Tradesmen—by holding of a seat.
But here let prudence stop my pen;
Beasts are my theme, not honest men.
And stalk'd behind the Bear's large breech;
For well he knew 't would nought avail,
And truth o'er falsehood must prevail.
For months this Fox was never heard,
Nor at their councils e'er appear'd;
For those who saw the noble Horse,
Felt all his reas'ning and its force;
So like our Pitt, you'd swear, indeed,
He'd sprung from the same Patriot breed,
Who, scorning all base fear and dread,
Boldly crush'd down Rebellion's head.
Ah! would he were but now alive,
To force the Hornets from the hive,
85
Providing only for their own!
As Kings are made by Bonaparte,
Supporters of his guilty heart;
So they, to prop their forc'd commands,
Distribute stars and bloody hands
Amongst their motley, needy crew,
In fortune poor, in honour too;
Gamesters, who glory when they cheat
Tradesmen—by holding of a seat.
But here let prudence stop my pen;
Beasts are my theme, not honest men.
Soon as the noble Horse perceiv'd
That all he utter'd was believ'd,
And that the Fox had stole away,
But little more he'd need to say.
“You see, my friends, I have no view,
But giving ev'ry one his due,
The noble Lion to protect,
Whilst he himself the laws respect.
Grown old, and worn with canker cares,
Bending beneath the weight of years,
Oh! shield your father and your friend;
On you his glory doth depend:
His honour, sceptre, and his crown,
You must defend them as your own;
For well I know a neighb'ring power,
Who gladly would our King devour,
Who wants to make us beasts like them,
Who seiz'd and stole a diadem;
And he who stole it, made their Chief,
Desires us to support the thief;
Nay more, his title for to own,
And prostrate bow before his Throne.
Will British Beasts to this submit?
Not one, I'm sure, no more than Pitt.
To the Usurper send defiance;
With German Beasts let's form alliance;
And Russian Bears—although they're rough,
They're brave and honest, bold and tough:
They'll stand their ground, nor will they flinch,
And ne'er retreat, but inch by inch:
They never yield, they scorn to fly;
Their motto's, Death or Victory:
They've only Monkies to attack,
Who oft to us have shown their back,
On their own ground, like cowards fled
Before our Noble Royal Ned,
Who single-handed did advance,
And scourg'd these treach'rous Beasts of France.
Shall we then crouch, distort our shapes,
Merely because of men—they're Apes?”
“No,” growl'd the Mastiff, loud and hoarse,
With all the spirit of a Horse;
Whilst the bold Bull-dog join'd the cry,
Who'd fight, but never knew to fly.
“United thus,” replies the Horse,
“Who can withstand our gallant force?”
That all he utter'd was believ'd,
And that the Fox had stole away,
But little more he'd need to say.
“You see, my friends, I have no view,
But giving ev'ry one his due,
The noble Lion to protect,
Whilst he himself the laws respect.
Grown old, and worn with canker cares,
Bending beneath the weight of years,
Oh! shield your father and your friend;
On you his glory doth depend:
His honour, sceptre, and his crown,
You must defend them as your own;
86
Who gladly would our King devour,
Who wants to make us beasts like them,
Who seiz'd and stole a diadem;
And he who stole it, made their Chief,
Desires us to support the thief;
Nay more, his title for to own,
And prostrate bow before his Throne.
Will British Beasts to this submit?
Not one, I'm sure, no more than Pitt.
To the Usurper send defiance;
With German Beasts let's form alliance;
And Russian Bears—although they're rough,
They're brave and honest, bold and tough:
They'll stand their ground, nor will they flinch,
And ne'er retreat, but inch by inch:
They never yield, they scorn to fly;
Their motto's, Death or Victory:
They've only Monkies to attack,
Who oft to us have shown their back,
On their own ground, like cowards fled
Before our Noble Royal Ned,
Who single-handed did advance,
And scourg'd these treach'rous Beasts of France.
Shall we then crouch, distort our shapes,
Merely because of men—they're Apes?”
87
With all the spirit of a Horse;
Whilst the bold Bull-dog join'd the cry,
Who'd fight, but never knew to fly.
“United thus,” replies the Horse,
“Who can withstand our gallant force?”
The Poet now, as Poets will
Shew their dexterity and skill,
For this so grand, sublime alliance,
And to the foe hurls forth defiance;
Then closer this alliance draws,
By ev'ry mode of Honour's laws;
Each article drawn out and fit,
To which all parties must submit;
Determin'd, when they take the field,
To sign no sep'rate peace or yield,
But bravely follow Honour's call,
To conquer, or together fall.
This seal'd and sign'd by ev'ry pow'r,
Anxious they wait th'approaching hour,
When German Boars and Russian Bears
Shall seize the Monkies by the ears.
Yet oft the noble Horse had told,
“Ye Boars and Bears, be not too bold;
Be cautious ere the fight begin,
Lest knowing Monkies take you in;
Ne'er look too lightly on the foe,
Let prudence guide each step you go;
For one rash step may ruin all,
And our best schemes together fall.”
Thus spoke the Horse, and oft impress'd
These words on their obdurate breast;
Begg'd them to wait the fav'ring wind,
Till Bears and Bull-dogs all had join'd;
And thus united form a band
A phalanx firm in head and hand,
The foe to conquer and command.
Yet let not conquest be our aim,
But honour, liberty, and fame:
To keep these Monkies in due awe,
Make them respect each nation's law;
Restrain within their proper bounds,
Nor ravage all their neighbours' grounds.
If apes of men they wish to be,
Teach them what is true liberty:
'Tis that enables Britain's isle
At Frenchmen's threats with scorn to smile;
'Tis that which keeps all rogues in awe;
E'en makes the King respect the law.
True liberty, in proper dress,
Is foe to all licentiousness.”
Shew their dexterity and skill,
For this so grand, sublime alliance,
And to the foe hurls forth defiance;
Then closer this alliance draws,
By ev'ry mode of Honour's laws;
Each article drawn out and fit,
To which all parties must submit;
Determin'd, when they take the field,
To sign no sep'rate peace or yield,
But bravely follow Honour's call,
To conquer, or together fall.
This seal'd and sign'd by ev'ry pow'r,
Anxious they wait th'approaching hour,
When German Boars and Russian Bears
Shall seize the Monkies by the ears.
Yet oft the noble Horse had told,
“Ye Boars and Bears, be not too bold;
Be cautious ere the fight begin,
Lest knowing Monkies take you in;
88
Let prudence guide each step you go;
For one rash step may ruin all,
And our best schemes together fall.”
Thus spoke the Horse, and oft impress'd
These words on their obdurate breast;
Begg'd them to wait the fav'ring wind,
Till Bears and Bull-dogs all had join'd;
And thus united form a band
A phalanx firm in head and hand,
The foe to conquer and command.
Yet let not conquest be our aim,
But honour, liberty, and fame:
To keep these Monkies in due awe,
Make them respect each nation's law;
Restrain within their proper bounds,
Nor ravage all their neighbours' grounds.
If apes of men they wish to be,
Teach them what is true liberty:
'Tis that enables Britain's isle
At Frenchmen's threats with scorn to smile;
'Tis that which keeps all rogues in awe;
E'en makes the King respect the law.
True liberty, in proper dress,
Is foe to all licentiousness.”
Thus spoke the noble, gen'rous Horse,
And reason gave his words full force;
Boars, Bears, and Bull-dogs, all agreed
Nobly, in freedom's cause, to bleed.
Ere yet the Bears had join'd the Boars,
Or Bull-dogs left their native shores,
Too rash the Boars now take the field,
Not arm'd with prudence, valour's shield;
Jealous of honour, loud in talk,
They whet their tusks, and blindly walk
Into a snare the Monkies laid,
Forgetting all the Horse had said.
The Monkies now began th'attack,
Now bite their ears, now mount their back,
As Frenchmen did the coward Mack.
The Boars retreat and homeward steer;
Some lose an eye, and some an ear;
And some there were they left behind,
From being rather short of wind;
Whilst others were oblig'd to stay,
Because they could not get away.
Well, after this one would have thought,
By wisdom thus so dearly bought,
They ne'er again would risk their ruin
Till join'd by Bull-dogs and by Bruin.
But, no; impell'd by fate's decree,
Or what is worse, base treachery,
When half the Bears had join'd the force,
Forgetting still th'advice of Horse,
Madly they rush into the field,
Oppress'd by numbers, forc'd to yield;
Whilst their weak Leader fell in fits,
Just like a King at Austerlitz,
Who, when reviv'd, forgot his fame,
Stamp'd with disgrace th'Imperial name.
Not so the Bears—with well-arm'd paws,
They scorn'd to yield up honour's cause;
Proudly defy'd the Monkey Chief,
Call'd him both murderer and thief;
Contemn'd his threats, despis'd his arts;
“We're Bears, but we have honest hearts:
Nay, would they not so much as hear him,
Or suffer him to come a near'em;
And though you've bought the Boars, yet know
We Bears cannot be purchas'd so:
True to the cause we undertook,
And swore by ev'ry saint and book:
Then know, Usurper of a Throne,
If beat, our honour's still our own.”
The Monkies shook with fear and rage,
Nor dar'd the Russian Bears engage.
“Here will we die, nor quit the field;
The Bull-dogs know we will not yield:
Oh! were we now but join'd by them,
We'd shake thy stolen diadem.”
So Alexander spoke, when told
The Germans were to Frenchmen sold:
“Shame on the dastard coward Chief,
Who yielded to the artful thief.
Know Alexander hates those knaves
Who style him King of Gallic Slaves.
Austria, in Gaul thy Crown is dipt,
Thy tow'ring eagle's wings are clipt;
Hoodwink'd by Gallic fraud, thy sons
Forsook their honour with their guns;
Basely their country's rights they sold,
Brib'd by the touch of Gallia's gold;
Whilst wav'ring Prussia saw the fact,
Who, though she promis'd, durst not act.
Go, hide thy heads from scorn and shame,
For honour blushes at thy name.”
And reason gave his words full force;
89
Nobly, in freedom's cause, to bleed.
Ere yet the Bears had join'd the Boars,
Or Bull-dogs left their native shores,
Too rash the Boars now take the field,
Not arm'd with prudence, valour's shield;
Jealous of honour, loud in talk,
They whet their tusks, and blindly walk
Into a snare the Monkies laid,
Forgetting all the Horse had said.
The Monkies now began th'attack,
Now bite their ears, now mount their back,
As Frenchmen did the coward Mack.
The Boars retreat and homeward steer;
Some lose an eye, and some an ear;
And some there were they left behind,
From being rather short of wind;
Whilst others were oblig'd to stay,
Because they could not get away.
Well, after this one would have thought,
By wisdom thus so dearly bought,
They ne'er again would risk their ruin
Till join'd by Bull-dogs and by Bruin.
But, no; impell'd by fate's decree,
Or what is worse, base treachery,
When half the Bears had join'd the force,
Forgetting still th'advice of Horse,
90
Oppress'd by numbers, forc'd to yield;
Whilst their weak Leader fell in fits,
Just like a King at Austerlitz,
Who, when reviv'd, forgot his fame,
Stamp'd with disgrace th'Imperial name.
Not so the Bears—with well-arm'd paws,
They scorn'd to yield up honour's cause;
Proudly defy'd the Monkey Chief,
Call'd him both murderer and thief;
Contemn'd his threats, despis'd his arts;
“We're Bears, but we have honest hearts:
Nay, would they not so much as hear him,
Or suffer him to come a near'em;
And though you've bought the Boars, yet know
We Bears cannot be purchas'd so:
True to the cause we undertook,
And swore by ev'ry saint and book:
Then know, Usurper of a Throne,
If beat, our honour's still our own.”
The Monkies shook with fear and rage,
Nor dar'd the Russian Bears engage.
“Here will we die, nor quit the field;
The Bull-dogs know we will not yield:
Oh! were we now but join'd by them,
We'd shake thy stolen diadem.”
91
The Germans were to Frenchmen sold:
“Shame on the dastard coward Chief,
Who yielded to the artful thief.
Know Alexander hates those knaves
Who style him King of Gallic Slaves.
Austria, in Gaul thy Crown is dipt,
Thy tow'ring eagle's wings are clipt;
Hoodwink'd by Gallic fraud, thy sons
Forsook their honour with their guns;
Basely their country's rights they sold,
Brib'd by the touch of Gallia's gold;
Whilst wav'ring Prussia saw the fact,
Who, though she promis'd, durst not act.
Go, hide thy heads from scorn and shame,
For honour blushes at thy name.”
Just so the Boars were bought with husks,
Their freedom sold, and lost their tusks;
Now wander o'er the German bogs,
No longer Boars, but grov'ling Hogs.
Rash Swine, too wise in thy conceit,
Thou foolish plann'd thy own defeat;
Thy hasty steps t'attack the foe,
Caus'd all our ruin and our woe.
Their freedom sold, and lost their tusks;
Now wander o'er the German bogs,
No longer Boars, but grov'ling Hogs.
Rash Swine, too wise in thy conceit,
Thou foolish plann'd thy own defeat;
Thy hasty steps t'attack the foe,
Caus'd all our ruin and our woe.
Soon as the Horse this news he hears,
Down his long face, fast roll'd the tears;
Whilst his big heart with pangs was rent,
Too great to give his griefs their vent;
Then burst that heart, his spirit fled,
And now he's number'd with the dead;
Yet ere his short-drawn breath was wholly past,
“Oh, save my country, Heaven!” was his last.
Let ev'ry royal, loyal Beast deplore
His loss, and grieve that he's, alas! no more!
Down his long face, fast roll'd the tears;
92
Too great to give his griefs their vent;
Then burst that heart, his spirit fled,
And now he's number'd with the dead;
Yet ere his short-drawn breath was wholly past,
“Oh, save my country, Heaven!” was his last.
Let ev'ry royal, loyal Beast deplore
His loss, and grieve that he's, alas! no more!
93
THE PALM OF VICTORY;
OR, THE DISASTROUS DEFEAT OF THE SMALL BRITISH FORCE IN EGYPT, TO WHICH IT WAS SO IMPOLITICLY SENT BY THE LATE ADMINISTRATION.
No longer, now, on Egypt's sands
Do Britain's brave and patriot bands
Bear off the Palm of Victory:
But doom'd to barbarous hordes to yield,
Their ill-match'd numbers stain the field,
Stript of their Palm of Victory.
Do Britain's brave and patriot bands
Bear off the Palm of Victory:
But doom'd to barbarous hordes to yield,
Their ill-match'd numbers stain the field,
Stript of their Palm of Victory.
Disgrace, those rulers shall pursue,
Who sacrific'd “the valiant crew,”
Who in each measure, crudely plann'd,
Tarnish'd the laurels of the land.
Who sacrific'd “the valiant crew,”
Who in each measure, crudely plann'd,
Tarnish'd the laurels of the land.
Too well the pride of times, we're taught,
When Pitt directed, Nelson fought,
Crown'd with the Palm of Victory;
When on Aboukir's blazing shore,
From France the matchless hero tore
Th'ill-gotten Palm of Victory.
When Pitt directed, Nelson fought,
Crown'd with the Palm of Victory;
When on Aboukir's blazing shore,
From France the matchless hero tore
Th'ill-gotten Palm of Victory.
94
Oh! days of glory, pass'd away,
When Abercromby bleeding lay,
Yet clasp'd the Palm of Victory;
Where Hutchinson triumphant led,
And foes, not Turks but Frenchmen, fled,
Yielding their Palm of Victory.
When Abercromby bleeding lay,
Yet clasp'd the Palm of Victory;
Where Hutchinson triumphant led,
And foes, not Turks but Frenchmen, fled,
Yielding their Palm of Victory.
Times, proud as those, may still return,
Since Britons now those rulers spurn,
Who lost the Palm of Victory;
And heroes, sacrific'd no more,
Shall, Britain's greatness to restore,
Regain the Palm of Victory.
Since Britons now those rulers spurn,
Who lost the Palm of Victory;
And heroes, sacrific'd no more,
Shall, Britain's greatness to restore,
Regain the Palm of Victory.
95
MORNI AND GAUL.
[_]
MR. EDITOR,
I am happy to see that gratitude for Highland hospitality has brought Mr. Sheridan into the lists against Malcolm Laing, and other unpatriotic sceptics, who would fain erase the name of Ossian from the catalogue of Scottish bards: fearing lest the striking parallel drawn by that brilliant orator, between himself and Morni, the father of Gaul, should be lost amidst the blaze of surrounding eloquence, which distinguished Mr. S.'s speech on the thirteenth day of the Westminster poll, I take the liberty of subjoining a very imperfect paraphrase of the original text, of which you will dispose as you think proper.
When to stand a fourth battle no longer I'm able,
(Excuse a fond tear, for the thought makes me sad,)
May jolly dogs point to me under the table,
And say with a sigh, “That's Tom Sheridan's dad.”
(Excuse a fond tear, for the thought makes me sad,)
May jolly dogs point to me under the table,
And say with a sigh, “That's Tom Sheridan's dad.”
96
When in life's latest scene, from theatrical duties,
Unequal to Green-room cabals, I retire,
All the notice I crave, from wits, critics, and beauties,
Is “He's gone, poor old fellow, Tom Sheridan's sire.”
Unequal to Green-room cabals, I retire,
All the notice I crave, from wits, critics, and beauties,
Is “He's gone, poor old fellow, Tom Sheridan's sire.”
When reason no more shall be answer'd with raillery,
No “laugh”-sprinkled speeches by quidnuncs be read;
After some long debate, may they say in the gallery,
“Ah, what would Tom Sheridan's father have said?”
No “laugh”-sprinkled speeches by quidnuncs be read;
After some long debate, may they say in the gallery,
“Ah, what would Tom Sheridan's father have said?”
When no more I shall try, with vexation tho' bursting,
To carry the day with a forc'd ha! ha! ha!
May the Green-coated Orator gaze at the hustings,
And smile when he thinks of Tom Sherry's papa.
To carry the day with a forc'd ha! ha! ha!
May the Green-coated Orator gaze at the hustings,
And smile when he thinks of Tom Sherry's papa.
Totness, Devon, May 26, 1807.
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THE MODERN DÆDALUS.
In days of yore, the poet sings,
An artist skill'd and rare,
Of wax and feathers fram'd his wings,
And made a famous pair;
With which, from precipice or tow'r,
From hills or highest trees,
When work'd by his mechanic pow'r,
He could descend with ease.
An artist skill'd and rare,
Of wax and feathers fram'd his wings,
And made a famous pair;
With which, from precipice or tow'r,
From hills or highest trees,
When work'd by his mechanic pow'r,
He could descend with ease.
Why Temple then wants such a store,
You need not ask in vain;
A moment of reflection more
Will make the matter plain.
With plumes and wax, and such-like things,
In quantities not small,
He means to make a pair of wings,
To ease his sudden fall.
You need not ask in vain;
A moment of reflection more
Will make the matter plain.
With plumes and wax, and such-like things,
In quantities not small,
He means to make a pair of wings,
To ease his sudden fall.
98
ON THE MORNING CHRONICLE'S ATTACK ON MR. ROSE.
The Morning Chronicle's too free,
And Rose, they say, will let them see
It must do so no more;
But though the Editor should smart,
Pray never let it break your heart—
He's been confin'd before.
And Rose, they say, will let them see
It must do so no more;
But though the Editor should smart,
Pray never let it break your heart—
He's been confin'd before.
And then his friends, who o'er his fate
Might well bewail;—yet with his state
Lik'd better to make merry:
And, viewing him between the bars,
Indulging in their jibes and jeers,
They call'd him bottled Perry.
Might well bewail;—yet with his state
Lik'd better to make merry:
And, viewing him between the bars,
Indulging in their jibes and jeers,
They call'd him bottled Perry.
THE ONE TALENT WANTING.
That Sheridan's talents, all see without winking—He's a talent to talk, and a talent for drinking;
He's a talent for wit, and a talent for sense,
And a talent for spending all other men's pence:
He's a talent to say—Burdett's like a Howard;
But to make that appear, he finds that it's now hard:
He's a talent, we all know, for writing a play;
But the talent he wants—is the talent to pay.
99
PETTY-ANA.
When Pitt's immortal spirit fled from earth,
To happier realms, where truth like his had birth,
Granta's wise sons his noble place supply'd
With metaphysic dulness, pomp, and pride.
To happier realms, where truth like his had birth,
Granta's wise sons his noble place supply'd
With metaphysic dulness, pomp, and pride.
If the difference you'd hit,
Betwixt Petty and Pitt,
'Tis easily done, if they'll let ye;
In short, this is it,
The one was Great Pitt,
While the other, alas! is but—Petty!
Betwixt Petty and Pitt,
'Tis easily done, if they'll let ye;
In short, this is it,
The one was Great Pitt,
While the other, alas! is but—Petty!
Roscius, of histrionic fame,
Is ap'd by Master Betty;
And glorious Pitt's immortal name,
With equal truth by Petty.
Is ap'd by Master Betty;
And glorious Pitt's immortal name,
With equal truth by Petty.
Signor Dragonetti and Lord Henry Petty,
In my mind possess the same place;
For Lord Henry Petty and Signor Dragonetti
Excel all the world on the bass.
In my mind possess the same place;
For Lord Henry Petty and Signor Dragonetti
Excel all the world on the bass.
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We once had a Statesman, whose days and whose nights
Were devoted to war and finance;
But Petty's great soul seeks more peaceful delights,
In care-killing sing-song and dance.
Were devoted to war and finance;
But Petty's great soul seeks more peaceful delights,
In care-killing sing-song and dance.
ON THE WISE EXPEDITION TO ALEXANDRIA.
'Tis said that Will W*ndh*m begins to have fearsHe must alter his note tow'rds our brave volunteers:
Must allow them not wanting in courage or skill,
To defend our dear isle, or a Frenchman to kill:
Must now surely allow them in tactics well train'd,
Since our reg'lars, to Egypt, he sends, to be brain'd.
ON THE SPANISH SAILOR,
WHO BEQUEATHED HIS TROWSERS TO AN EX-MINISTER.
So apt the gift, we all must grant,It ne'er can be forgot;
For who could more thy breeches want,
Than a pauvre sans-culotte?
101
THE PAPIST'S RETREAT;
OR, A SCURRILOUS ADDITION TO A LATE SCURRILOUS ADDRESS.
When Northumbria's yeomen united declare,That instead of C---Gr*y they'll choose Percy;
Poor H*w*ck set off with a flea in his ear,
Crying “G*d d*mn and bl*st you all, curse ye!”
A CONUNDRUM.
BY BEN BLOCK, AUTHOR OF “FLAGELLUM FLAGELLATED.”
Why are All The Talents
(Supported by Flagellum)
Like the ports of modern France,
Prithee canst thou tell 'em?
(Supported by Flagellum)
Like the ports of modern France,
Prithee canst thou tell 'em?
Why they're like the ports of France,
Is easy known, I am persuaded;
For look at Britain's wooden walls,
You see those ports are all block-aided.
Is easy known, I am persuaded;
For look at Britain's wooden walls,
You see those ports are all block-aided.
102
ALL THE TALENTS NO CONJURORS.
The Talents like conj'rors who deal in solution,Told all the world's fate but their own dissolution.
ALL THE TALENTS.
“And all the talents were heaped together.”
—Book of Numbers.
The talents which God for man's use has design'd
Are mostly seen single, and seldom combin'd.
There's a talent to cheat, and a talent to smuggle;
A talent to jeer, and a talent to juggle:
There's a talent to rob, and there's one to deceive;
There's a talent to lie, and a talent to thieve.
There's a talent to love gold, places, and pensions;
There's a talent, to wit, to claim first rate pretensions.
To fraud and corruption, too, talents are seen,
To rage, disappointment, confusion, and spleen.
But, oh! to see all, what a rare conflagration!
These talents to blaze in one Administration.
103
ON THE LATE CHANGE.
Says Harry to Dick, “My lad, be of good cheer;The Ministry soon will be changed, I hear.”
“Good news!” replied Dick; “but it better would be,
If, in changing, you had but omitted the C.”
ON A LATE SUDDEN CALL FOR A DOUBLE QUANTUM OF PAPER.
That Ministry's fallen is surely no vapour!So frighten'd are they, there's a call for waste paper!
The order is large, I allow it, 'od rot 'em,
Proportionate too to the family bottom:
For Temple is willing, kick'd out with disgrace,
To cleanse the broad bottom he dirtied in place.
105
“TEMPLA QUAM DILECTA.”
BY THE AUTHOR OF “ALL THE TALENTS IN IRELAND,”
AND “A POETICAL PARODY ON LORD GRENVILLE'S LETTER TO DR. GASKIN,
WITH THE ANSWERS THERETO.”
'Tis rarely mottos truth impart,
With half such shrewdness or such art,
As Stowe's proud Lords affect-a:
These Nobles boast, with conscience clear,
That fifty thousand pounds a year
Rear'd “Templa quam dilecta.”
With half such shrewdness or such art,
As Stowe's proud Lords affect-a:
These Nobles boast, with conscience clear,
That fifty thousand pounds a year
Rear'd “Templa quam dilecta.”
Well may their houses proudly rise,
Well may they common folks despise,
And sycophants select-a;
While groaning nations give them cash
Amidst extravagance to dash.
Oh! “Templa quam dilecta!”
Well may they common folks despise,
And sycophants select-a;
While groaning nations give them cash
Amidst extravagance to dash.
Oh! “Templa quam dilecta!”
106
Tellers and auditors a store,
To make us curse them o'er and o'er,
And wish the Dev'l collect-a;
Tied to our backs, we fret and fume,
For even death will make no room
In “Templa quam dilecta.”
To make us curse them o'er and o'er,
And wish the Dev'l collect-a;
Tied to our backs, we fret and fume,
For even death will make no room
In “Templa quam dilecta.”
Reversions we in turn would make,
If Satan could reversions take
Of men his own elect-a;
'Tis those that we could truly spare,
Below with splendour they might rear
Their “Templa quam dilecta.”
If Satan could reversions take
Of men his own elect-a;
'Tis those that we could truly spare,
Below with splendour they might rear
Their “Templa quam dilecta.”
But even Buckingham has read
That Sampson pull'd a house o'er head,
Tore down the “spissa tecta:”
Perhaps a kingdom now to save,
We'll see the monument and grave
Of “Templa quam dilecta.”
That Sampson pull'd a house o'er head,
Tore down the “spissa tecta:”
Perhaps a kingdom now to save,
We'll see the monument and grave
Of “Templa quam dilecta.”
107
GRATTAN AND INSURRECTION.
BY THE AUTHOR OF THE PRECEDING.
G---tt---n, once Treason's fastest friend,
Thinks Loyalty is wiser:
To Ireland's good, his mind can bend,
No change can so surprise her.
Thinks Loyalty is wiser:
To Ireland's good, his mind can bend,
No change can so surprise her.
But spite of all his tongue can teach,
That Ireland wants correction;
We still combine in act and speech,
G---tt---n and Insurrection.
That Ireland wants correction;
We still combine in act and speech,
G---tt---n and Insurrection.
108
THE POLITICAL TRANSMIGRATION.
Oh! say in what forms the souls of our “Talents”
Will, to make us all happy, revisit the earth?
Oh! say in what stations these St. Stephen valiants
Are destin'd to rule, or delight us from birth?
Will, to make us all happy, revisit the earth?
Oh! say in what stations these St. Stephen valiants
Are destin'd to rule, or delight us from birth?
Why, G---n---lle, who here was so fond of his places,
Which not even Pitt could induce him to part,
Of a future fishmonger shews evident traces,
His wishes fulfill'd, and contented his heart.
Which not even Pitt could induce him to part,
Of a future fishmonger shews evident traces,
His wishes fulfill'd, and contented his heart.
And T---m---le, true scion of B---ck---m's race, Sir,
Whose desires are for paper, so ample and vast,
Transform'd to a mill, with his mind may keep pace, Sir,
And be glutted with paper, as much as the past.
Whose desires are for paper, so ample and vast,
Transform'd to a mill, with his mind may keep pace, Sir,
And be glutted with paper, as much as the past.
And W---nd---m, whose soul is in theories moving,
Who contemns being shackled with corporal chains,
As a chrysalis may in ethereals be roving,
While divested of substance, idea remains.
Who contemns being shackled with corporal chains,
As a chrysalis may in ethereals be roving,
While divested of substance, idea remains.
Poor P---tt---y, that Grildrig in schemes of taxation,
That wondrous compression of infantine worth,
As Cocker's reviser may teach computation,
And involv'd in Arithmetic be from his birth.
That wondrous compression of infantine worth,
As Cocker's reviser may teach computation,
And involv'd in Arithmetic be from his birth.
109
And S---m---th, elop'd from the mint as a guinea,
May circulate freely throughout Britain's land;
Nor in cash as in politics quite such a ninny,
Yet alike be transferred from hand unto hand.
May circulate freely throughout Britain's land;
Nor in cash as in politics quite such a ninny,
Yet alike be transferred from hand unto hand.
And Addingtonian like, let time
Deface the visage regal;
Agent in ev'ry paltry crime,
Unwittingly illegal.
Deface the visage regal;
Agent in ev'ry paltry crime,
Unwittingly illegal.
Let L---d---r---le on earth return
Nuptial negotiator,
To cool domestic feuds that burn
Marital pacificator.
Nuptial negotiator,
To cool domestic feuds that burn
Marital pacificator.
To manage marriage be his task,
Fidelity enforcing;
Still diplomatic terms may mask,
Make Union—by divorcing.
Fidelity enforcing;
Still diplomatic terms may mask,
Make Union—by divorcing.
H---w---ck with Rosary in hand
May make a future Friar;
For Papal rights may furious stand,
And roar with Romish fire.
May make a future Friar;
For Papal rights may furious stand,
And roar with Romish fire.
M---r---, as Berlin Journals sing,
From Royal stock's descended;
Of beggars be the worthy King,
By none but those befriended.
From Royal stock's descended;
Of beggars be the worthy King,
By none but those befriended.
110
Let vinous
Sh---n assist
In aiding future drinking,
As Bottle Cooper may exist,
And put a stop to thinking.
In aiding future drinking,
As Bottle Cooper may exist,
And put a stop to thinking.
As many bottles then contain,
As now he rates his quantum:
His ancient tipsy thoughts remain,
With half a dozen tantum.
As now he rates his quantum:
His ancient tipsy thoughts remain,
With half a dozen tantum.
God send Pythagorean change
May make our “Talents” sager,
That while through space and time they range,
Their loyalty be major.
May make our “Talents” sager,
That while through space and time they range,
Their loyalty be major.
But lest old treasons should prevail,
And Gallic leaven rise, Sir;
To circumscribe them in a pale,
Perhaps would then be wiser.
And Gallic leaven rise, Sir;
To circumscribe them in a pale,
Perhaps would then be wiser.
NOSMET REBUS SERVAMUS SECUNDIS;
OR, NEVER BRING AN OLD HOUSE OVER YOUR HEADS.
When P*tty's wise noddle provok'd him to quoteA scrap of the Latin, so late, learn'd by rote,
This liberal adage he gave to the nation,
As The Talents' grand maxim for public salvation,
“Nosmet rebus servamus secundis” alone,
No succour we lend to a tottering throne;
To the prosperous villain, bow low, and are civil;
And our very best tapers still hold to the Devil.
112
THE END.
| All the talents' garland | |