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XLVIII. THE WHISPERS OF THE RUE RIVOLI.
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274

XLVIII. THE WHISPERS OF THE RUE RIVOLI.

“He points to Lord Durham in the salons, and whispers, ‘That is the man!’”—Morning Post.

Who will come to the place some day—
The pleasant place, where dear Lord Grey
Just now so tenderly feeds some dozens
Of patriot sons and patriot cousins?
Who from the national purse will draw
All that is left by his father-in-law?
Who will end what Grey began?
That is the man! That is the man!
Who in due time will make of me,
Though in the city I may be

275

“Very discreditably known,”
Because of my share in a certain loan,
Who in due time will make me yet
A member of the Cabinet,
Ruling with him his dark divan?
That is the man! That is the man!
Who, though I ought with Hume and Co.
To have shrunk into privacy long ago,
Will bring me the book, over whose long leaves
Honest Lord Althorp growls and grieves,
The ledger of the bankrupt state,
That I may carefully calculate
And glean from the ruin all I can?
That is the man! That is the man!
Who will saunter to Court, and sing
A pretty song to our Lord the King,
Of peers in treason foul arrayed,
Of wicked plots by bishops laid,
Of loyalty spouting from Radical Clubs,
Of piety driven to preach from tubs?
Who will Royalty's wits trepan?
That is the man! That is the man!
Who by and by, when a maiden Queen
Shall on our tottering throne be seen,

276

All too weak to stem the storm
Which we philosophers call “Reform”—
Who will condescend to hold
Robe of state and sceptre of gold,
Leaving her Majesty frock and fan?
That is the man! That is the man!
Who will abolish the mitre and crown,
And pull the Church and the Palace down?
Who will burn, at the public charge,
The Bible and Prayer-book and statutes at large?
Who will annul and annihilate quite
All the old maxims of wrong and right,
And govern the world on a nice new plan?
That is the man! That is the man!