The Complete Poems of Sir Thomas Moore - LightNovelsOnl.com
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But folks at length began to doubt What all this conjuring was about; For, every day, more deep in debt They saw their wealthy rulers get:-- "Let's look (said they) the items thro'
"And see if what we're told be true "Of our Periwinkle Revenue,"
But, lord! they found there wasn't a t.i.ttle Of truth in aught they heard before; For they gained by Periwinkles little And lost by Locusts ten times more!
These Locusts are a lordly breed Some Salmagundians love to feed.
Of all the beasts that ever were born, Your Locust most delights in _corn_; And tho' his body be but small, To fatten him takes the devil and all!
"Oh fie! oh fie!" was now the cry, As they saw the gaudy show go by, As the Laird of Salmagundi went To open his Locust Parliament!
NEW CREATION OF PEERS.
BATCH THE FIRST.
"His 'prentice han'
He tried on man, And then he made the la.s.ses."
1827.
"And now," quoth the Minister, (eased of his panics, And ripe for each pastime the summer affords,) "Having had our full swing at destroying mechanics, "By way of _set-off_, let us make a few Lords.
"'Tis pleasant--while nothing but mercantile fractures, "Some simple, some _compound_, is dinned in our ears-- "To think that, tho' robbed all coa.r.s.e manufactures, "We still have our fine manufacture of Peers;--
"Those _Gotielin_ productions which Kings take a pride "In engrossing the whole fabrication and trade of; "Choice tapestry things very grand on _one_ side, "But showing, on t'other, what rags they are made of.
The plan being fixt, raw material was sought,-- No matter how middling, if Tory the creed be; And first, to begin with, Squire W---, 'twas thought, For a Lord was as raw a material as need be.
Next came with his _penchant_ for painting and pelf The tasteful Sir Charles,[1] so renowned far and near For purchasing pictures and selling himself-- And _both_ (as the public well knows) very dear.
Beside him Sir John comes, with equal _eclat_, in;-- Stand forth, chosen pair, while for t.i.tles we measure ye; Both connoisseur baronets, both fond of _drawing_, Sir John, after nature, Sir Charles, on the Treasury.
But, bless us!--behold a new candidate come-- In his hand he upholds a prescription, new written: He poiseth a pill-box 'twixt finger and thumb, And he asketh a seat 'mong the Peers of Great Britain!
"Forbid it," cried Jenky, "ye Viscounts, ye Earls!
"Oh Rank, how thy glories would fall disenchanted, "If coronets glistend with pills stead of pearls, "And the strawberry-leaves were by rhubarb supplanted!
"No--ask it not, ask it not, dear Doctor Holford-- "If naught but a Peerage can gladden thy life, "And young Master Holford as yet is too small for't, "Sweet Doctor, we'll make a _she_ Peer of thy wife.
"Next to bearing a coronet on our _own_ brows "Is to bask in its light from the brows of another; "And grandeur o'er thee shall reflect from thy spouse, "As o'er Vesey Fitzgerald 'twill s.h.i.+ne thro' his mother."[2]
Thus ended the _First_ Batch--and Jenky, much tired (It being no joke to make Lords by the heap), Took a large dram of ether--the same that inspired His speech 'gainst the Papists--and prosed off to sleep.
[1] Created Lord Farnborough.
[2] Among the persons mentioned as likely to be raised to the Peerage are the mother of Mr. Vesey Fitzgerald, etc.
SPEECH ON THE UMBRELLA QUESTION.[1]
BY LORD ELDON.
1827.
"_vos_ inumbrelles _video_."--_Ex Juvenil_.
GEORGII CANNINGII.[2]
My Lords, I'm accused of a trick that G.o.d knows is The last into which at my age I could fall-- Of leading this grave House of Peers by their noses, Wherever I choose, princes, bishops and all.
My Lords, on the question before us at present, No doubt I shall hear, "'Tis that cursed old fellow, "That bugbear of all that is liberal and pleasant, "Who won't let the Lords give the man his umbrella!"
G.o.d forbid that your Lords.h.i.+ps should knuckle to me; I am ancient--but were I as old as King Priam, Not much, I confess, to your credit 'twould be, To mind such a twaddling old Trojan as I am.
I own, of our Protestant laws I am jealous, And long as G.o.d spares me will always maintain, That _once_ having taken men's rights, or umbrellas, We ne'er should consent to restore them again.
What security have you, ye Bishops and Peers, If thus you give back Mr. Bell's _parapluie_, That he mayn't with its stick, come about all your ears, And then--_where_ would your Protestant periwigs be?
No! heaven be my judge, were I dying to-day, Ere I dropt in the grave, like a medlar that's mellow, "For G.o.d's sake"--at that awful moment I'd say-- "For G.o.d's sake, _don't_ give Mr. Bell his umbrella."
["This address," says a ministerial journal, "delivered with amazing emphasis and earnestness, occasioned an extraordinary sensation in the House. Nothing since the memorable address of the Duke of York has produced so remarkable an impression."]
[1] A case which interested the public very much at this period. A gentleman, of the name, of Bell, having left his umbrella behind him in the House of Lords, the doorkeepers (standing, no doubt, on the privileges of that n.o.ble body) refused to restore it to him; and the above speech, which may be considered as a _pendant_ to that of the Learned Earl on the Catholic Question, arose out of the transaction.
[2] From Mr. Canning's translation of Jekyl's--
"I say, my good fellows, As you've no umbrellas."
A PASTORAL BALLAD.
BY JOHN BULL.