 | May Fair |  |
Long may he live, and they to tell it,
Unsliced by crab-stick, steel, or pellet!
Long may their heirs desire their shoes!
Long may they scribble their reviews!
Long may their brains and boxes rattle!
Long may they wage the bloodless battle!
Sooner may Hymen raise a furrow
Beneath thy ringlets, Ell*n—;
Or ------ scorn to bow the knee
To thee, illustrious lord in fee;
Or flesh disguise the charger's bones,
That stalks thee o'er the London stones.—
Sooner the little M*rch---n*ess
Be more adored, be talk'd of less;
Or watch her truant Lord's démarches,
Unaided by the Dean of Arches—
Or C---lock her Opera-box,
On hearing my Lord Marshal's knocks;
While, conscious that his reign is done,
Sulks through the evening P*lm*rst*n.—
Sooner old T*mpl* look the Duke,
Or bookworm Spencer read a book;
Clerk St*n*h*pe learn his shirt to button;
B*df*rd talk any thing but mutton.
Sooner may shave Northumbria's Grace,
Than living man twit R---'s face;
Sooner write poetry, St*w*t R*se,
Than living man pull Sweepum's nose.
Unsliced by crab-stick, steel, or pellet!
Long may their heirs desire their shoes!
Long may they scribble their reviews!
Long may their brains and boxes rattle!
Long may they wage the bloodless battle!
55
Beneath thy ringlets, Ell*n—;
Or ------ scorn to bow the knee
To thee, illustrious lord in fee;
Or flesh disguise the charger's bones,
That stalks thee o'er the London stones.—
Sooner the little M*rch---n*ess
Be more adored, be talk'd of less;
Or watch her truant Lord's démarches,
Unaided by the Dean of Arches—
Or C---lock her Opera-box,
On hearing my Lord Marshal's knocks;
While, conscious that his reign is done,
Sulks through the evening P*lm*rst*n.—
Sooner old T*mpl* look the Duke,
Or bookworm Spencer read a book;
56
B*df*rd talk any thing but mutton.
Sooner may shave Northumbria's Grace,
Than living man twit R---'s face;
Sooner write poetry, St*w*t R*se,
Than living man pull Sweepum's nose.
| May Fair | |