The political and occasional poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed Edited, with notes, by Sir George Young |
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THE CONVERT. |
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 | The political and occasional poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed |  |
126
II. THE CONVERT.
Good Lady Grace, the charming Blue,
Who lately loved, in Grosvenor Square,
To lecture to a favoured few
On birds and fishes, light and air,
Now flings her learned toys away,
And spells the wisdom of the Sun,
And whispers fifty times a day,
“Dear cousin, something must be done!”
Who lately loved, in Grosvenor Square,
To lecture to a favoured few
On birds and fishes, light and air,
Now flings her learned toys away,
And spells the wisdom of the Sun,
And whispers fifty times a day,
“Dear cousin, something must be done!”
She fears the rabble scarcely grow
A jot less apt to drink and swear;
She vows that Hume and Brougham and Co.
Are just as shocking as they were;
What once she said of Mr. Grey
She says as plainly of his son;
She talks of Cobbett with dismay;
But bless her! something must be done.
A jot less apt to drink and swear;
She vows that Hume and Brougham and Co.
Are just as shocking as they were;
127
She says as plainly of his son;
She talks of Cobbett with dismay;
But bless her! something must be done.
She thinks as fondly as she thought
Of those that sailed with old Pellew;
She can't conceive that bondsmen fought
With Wellington at Waterloo;
She boasts of Britain's old renown,
Her dangers dared, her laurels won,
Her blameless Church, her bloodless Crown;
Alas! but something must be done.
Of those that sailed with old Pellew;
She can't conceive that bondsmen fought
With Wellington at Waterloo;
She boasts of Britain's old renown,
Her dangers dared, her laurels won,
Her blameless Church, her bloodless Crown;
Alas! but something must be done.
She finds that speeches still are made,
And laws, and quartern loaves, and rhymes;
She finds the Three per Cents. are paid,
As they were paid in olden times;
She don't believe she's older now
Than when she laughed at Canning's fun;
But yet, no matter why or how,
She's sure that something must be done.
And laws, and quartern loaves, and rhymes;
She finds the Three per Cents. are paid,
As they were paid in olden times;
She don't believe she's older now
Than when she laughed at Canning's fun;
But yet, no matter why or how,
She's sure that something must be done.
Come, ye who have been blind so long,
And see, by wisdom's modern light,
Whatever has been, may be wrong,
Whatever is not, must be right.
Lord Brougham is in Lord Eldon's place;
The Whig millennium is begun;
Who would not vote, with Lady Grace,
That somehow something must be done?
And see, by wisdom's modern light,
128
Whatever is not, must be right.
Lord Brougham is in Lord Eldon's place;
The Whig millennium is begun;
Who would not vote, with Lady Grace,
That somehow something must be done?
| The political and occasional poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed | |