All The Blocks! or, An Antidote to "All The Talents." Satirical Poem. In Three Dialogues. By Flagellum [i.e. S. W. H. Ireland] |
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ELIJAH's MANTLE PARODIED. |
 | All The Blocks! |  |
72
ELIJAH's MANTLE PARODIED.
Now, by fell Satan's dire command,
Old P*rt*nd comes from Folly's land,
To seal Britannia's shame;
His mantle Harry D--- hath caught,
Who's with a Mammon's spirit fraught,
To play the former game.
Old P*rt*nd comes from Folly's land,
To seal Britannia's shame;
His mantle Harry D--- hath caught,
Who's with a Mammon's spirit fraught,
To play the former game.
In P*rt*nd England sees combin'd
A worn-out body, crazy mind,
A blockhead's spirit here;
For, sad reverse, of Gr*nv*lle 'reft—
No hope, no confidence is left;
No Talents now are near.
A worn-out body, crazy mind,
A blockhead's spirit here;
For, sad reverse, of Gr*nv*lle 'reft—
No hope, no confidence is left;
No Talents now are near.
73
Yes, M*lv*lle, to increase his fame,
To all the mantle now lays claim,
For pelf he still can feel;
Sordid, anew resolves to soar,
No matter tho' th' exchequer's poor,
The motto's—“Pick and steal.”
To all the mantle now lays claim,
For pelf he still can feel;
Sordid, anew resolves to soar,
No matter tho' th' exchequer's poor,
The motto's—“Pick and steal.”
A piece to J*nky he lets fall,
Whose gloss doth to his mind recall
His former envied state;
When quite weigh'd down with golden cares,
He us'd to sneak to the back stairs,
With S*vr*gnty to prate.
Whose gloss doth to his mind recall
His former envied state;
When quite weigh'd down with golden cares,
He us'd to sneak to the back stairs,
With S*vr*gnty to prate.
O! P*r*v*l, thy scrap inspires
No patriot's zeal, no P*tty's fires,
Well stock'd with P*rt*nd leaven;
A lawyer to thy latest day,
For Duchy thou couldst panting pray,
Lucre thine only Heav'n.
No patriot's zeal, no P*tty's fires,
Well stock'd with P*rt*nd leaven;
A lawyer to thy latest day,
For Duchy thou couldst panting pray,
Lucre thine only Heav'n.
C*nn*ng, thy remnant only shows
Thy spirit lost to manly woes:
Let feeling once unbend;
Greater than thee tears oft' have shed:
Thine old associates are not dead,
And Br*nsl*y was thy friend.
Thy spirit lost to manly woes:
Let feeling once unbend;
Greater than thee tears oft' have shed:
Thine old associates are not dead,
And Br*nsl*y was thy friend.
74
Is it the scrap which thou hast torn
From P*rt*nd's mantle, makes thee scorn
The tutor of thy youth?
Rail at those talents till thou'rt hoarse,
Which cloth'd thy wits, a naked corse,
Such, C*nn*ng, is the truth.
From P*rt*nd's mantle, makes thee scorn
The tutor of thy youth?
Rail at those talents till thou'rt hoarse,
Which cloth'd thy wits, a naked corse,
Such, C*nn*ng, is the truth.
Beneath the robe, 'tis M*lgr*v*'s fate
To steer the wooden walls of state,—
Ah! woe to this sad age!
Ere long Old England's trident bright
Must be for ever scarf'd in night,
And blurr'd from glory's page.
To steer the wooden walls of state,—
Ah! woe to this sad age!
Ere long Old England's trident bright
Must be for ever scarf'd in night,
And blurr'd from glory's page.
A remnant too must Eld*n wear,
The seals of chancery his share,
Where perch'd in owl-like pride:
Poor clients all, ye may cabal,
Tho' right be Jack and wrong be Hall,
The cause he won't decide.
The seals of chancery his share,
Where perch'd in owl-like pride:
Poor clients all, ye may cabal,
Tho' right be Jack and wrong be Hall,
The cause he won't decide.
Our trade is govern'd by the wits
Of B*th*rst—Ah! my wealthy cits,
Well may ye dread impart;
Too soon, I fear, you'll feel the woe,
Of having one who does not know
To con the merchant's chart.
Of B*th*rst—Ah! my wealthy cits,
Well may ye dread impart;
Too soon, I fear, you'll feel the woe,
Of having one who does not know
To con the merchant's chart.
75
From mantle next is torn the rag
Of pretty R*se, hung out for flag,
No doubt he'll gripe it fast.
Vice-president, his leading star,
Will prompt him to the venal war,
Anew he'll act the past.
Of pretty R*se, hung out for flag,
No doubt he'll gripe it fast.
Vice-president, his leading star,
Will prompt him to the venal war,
Anew he'll act the past.
E*rl W*stm*r*l*nd alike must
feel
The mantle's warmth—lord privy seal,
With C*md*n, void of worth,
Who owns the sweets of power and place,
Both arm'd to stamp our realm's disgrace,
Twin Blocks of P*rt*nd birth.
The mantle's warmth—lord privy seal,
With C*md*n, void of worth,
Who owns the sweets of power and place,
Both arm'd to stamp our realm's disgrace,
Twin Blocks of P*rt*nd birth.
G*bbs by the robe's alike wrapp'd round,
Attorney-general profound,
Amongst the new compeers;
He in this cloak of M*lv*lle stuff
Thinks all opponents to rebuff,
And scare with ass's ears.
Attorney-general profound,
Amongst the new compeers;
He in this cloak of M*lv*lle stuff
Thinks all opponents to rebuff,
And scare with ass's ears.
Yes, threaten'd thus is Britain's land
By All the Blocks, a despr'ate band,
Who ne'er will stand reprov'd;
Wisdom their follies cannot check,
Nor save from universal wreck
My country well belov'd.
By All the Blocks, a despr'ate band,
Who ne'er will stand reprov'd;
Wisdom their follies cannot check,
Nor save from universal wreck
My country well belov'd.
76
Rise, Gr*nv*lle, from thy transient grave,
Return thy native land to save,
Thy well-earn'd honours claim;
Strike All the Blocks with palsied fear,
Anew let All the Talents rear
The clarion voice of Fame.
Return thy native land to save,
Thy well-earn'd honours claim;
Strike All the Blocks with palsied fear,
Anew let All the Talents rear
The clarion voice of Fame.
| All The Blocks! | |