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Why talk of Rome? Feeble and old,

She scarce hath breath enough to scold;
The papal thunder's heard no more,
Or only scorn'd: the Scarlet Whore
Is grown a common drab, that none

But with contempt do look upon;

That lives, but while her pious son
Thinks fit, her own Napoleon.

*She lives no more. At the head of a French army Miollis has entered Rome, and planted his cannon against the papal palace. Unable to resist, the Pope surrendered his power without a struggle. Miollis immediately pub. lished the following order: "His Majesty the Emperor and King, Napoleon, testifies his satisfaction, with the conduct of the hitherto Papal troops. These soldiers shall not in future receive.orders either from priests or women. Soldiers should only be commanded by sol.

What, if misfortune's deathful stroke
Her haughty spirit have not broke;

What if she still aspire to reign,


And hope to be herself again;


you, there needs her will alone

To rear again the papal throne?

How has she chanced, had it been so,

From such a height to fall so low?
The oak, that towering rear'd its head,
And deep its knotty roots had spread,
That many a summer's sun had seen
Gilding its leaves of glossy green;

diers. They may also be assured that they shall no more return under the command of priests. The Emperor and King will give them generals to conduct them, who shall be worthy their bravery."

Rome, March 27, 1808

Long shook by storms, rotten at heart,

Sapless, decay'd in every part,
Yields its weak body to the blast,
And falls by its own weight at last.
Think you again t'will rear its head,
And spread again the summer shade
Or what but short-lived sickly shoots
Can spring from its exhausted roots?

Talk not of Rome then: at this day

I laugh at Papaphobia.


Laugh! what, when our all's at stake! Think upon Esop's frozen snake.

What say you there's no cause for dread,

When friends are starved and foes are fed?

When patriot DUIGENAN* deplores

The fate of Dublin servitors,

This learned, and liberal, and Right Honourable, gentleman, who is now appointed a member of the Irish Privy Council, though on a motion made in the House of Commons, May 11th, 1808, respecting that appointment, no less than 107 members voted against it, while all the Ministry were affected with a lock-jaw, has particularly recommended himself to favor by his zeal in the protestant cause. In the debate of the 5th of May, 1808, on the Grant to Maynooth college, he characterized the Irish catholics as hostile subjects, bad in theory, and would be so in practice, whenever the opportunity should offer itself: and contended that the protestant establishment was starved, whilst the papists were supported by public bounty. He instanced the case of the servitors in the Protestant University of Dublin, who were allowed but one dinner a-day.

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Good protestants, ah! luckless they!

Allow'd to dine but once a-day,

While the State takes their extra dinners

To cram the maws of papish sinners.—
When they, the champions of the Church,

Meek PERCEVAL and tarter BIRCH,

CANNING, the cynosure† of wit,
The precious legacy of PITT,
Plain-dealing CASTLEREAGH, renown'd

For faith, and HAWKSBURY profound,

* See and read, if you can, the Pamphlet on the Catholic subject written by the tart Colonel, Mr. Deputy Birch, Poet, Politician, Polemist, and Pie-man.

CYNOSURA, poetically a star, from Kuvoσuga, quasi xuvos ouga, cauda canis, a dog's tail.

§ See Arthur O'Conner's Letter to Lord Castlereagh.

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