XLII.
THE RUSSELL MELODIES.
NO. VI.
“The poem we present to our readers to-day, is one in which the
noble author invites the First Lord of the Treasury to dinner, in a loose
imitation of Horace's pretty Ode, ‘Œli, vetusto nobilis ab Lamo.’
“We have formerly illustrated his lordship's adaptations from the
classics by quotations from the originals. Some of our fair readers have
been angry with us for this; but their frowns would scarcely have moved
us to substitute the clumsy English of Francis for the exquisite Latin of
Horace, if a more reverend adviser had not supported their petition.
The Bishop of Chichester assures us ‘he cannot be comfortable without
a translation.’”
Illustrious Premier! noble Peer,
Whose family will live in story,
While yon Red Book from year to year
Immortalizes Whig and Tory,
(Since in that wondrous book to-day
We scarcely read of any others,
As touching power, or tasting pay,
But Earl Grey's sons, and Earl Grey's brothers),
Next spring—if any part is true
Of what that arch wag, Brougham, is croaking
In his dark Court, of me and you,
With malice that is quite provoking—
Next spring we must, alas! give o'er
Our pretty plans, our pleasant places;
And hide, upon Life's weedy shore,
Our most uncomfortable faces.
Let us be merry, ere our sin
By such rebuke is overtaken;
Bring Wood
—to tell us, with a grin,
How vastly well we've saved our bacon;
The Grants shall join us, half alive;
Tired Melbourne shall tie up his knocker;
And dear dim Althorp shall contrive
To steal one afternoon from Cocker.
