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So, God keep him increasing in size and renown, still lie luckily in his pocket) being produced, and Still the fattest and best fitted —o about town! skilfully laid beside the others, the following
Derry down, &c. billet-doux is the satisfactory result of their juxta
position. During the “Derry down” of this last verse, a messenger from the S-c-my of So's Office Honored Colonel-my Wife, who's the Queun of rushes on, and the singer (who, luckily for the all slatterns, effect of the scene, is the very Tailor suspected of Neglected to put up the Book of new Patterns the mysterious fragments) is interrupted in the She sent the wrong Measures too_shamefully midst of his laudatory exertions, and hurried away, wrongto the no small surprise and consternation of his They're the same used for poor Mr. Lambert, when comrades. The Plot now hastens rapidly in its young; development--the management of the Tailor's But, bless you! they wouldn't go half round the examination is highly skilful, and the alarm, which R-5--ho is made to betray, is natural without being So, hope you'll excuse yours till death, most obe. ludicrous. The explanation, too, which he finally dient. gives is not more simple than satisfactory. It appears that the said fragments formed part of a This fully explains the whole mystery—the self-exculpatory note, which he had intended to R-g-t resumes his wonted smiles, and the Drama send to Colonel M‘M-n upon subjects purely terminates as usual, to the satisfaction of all parprofessional, and the corresponding bits (which ties.
SATIRICAL AND HUMOROUS POEMS.
ΣΧΟΛΑΖΟΝΤΟΣ ΑΣΧΟΛΙΑ. .
THE INSURRECTION OF THE PAPERS.
On one site lay unread Petitions,
“It would be impossible for his Royal Highness to disengage his person from the accumulating pile of papers that encompassed it.”—Lord CASTLEREAGU's Speech upon Colonel M Mahon's Appointment, April 14, 1812.
Last night I toss'd and turn'd in bed,
When lo! the Papers, one and all,
Methought the P-e, in whisker'd state, Before me at his breakfast sato;
Right at the R-g-t's well-dress'd head,
I need not remind you how cursedly bad As if determined to be read.
Our affairs were all looking, when Father went Next Tradesmen's Bills began to fly,
mad;' And Tradesmen's Bills, we know, mount high; A straight waistcoat on him and restrictions on me, Nay, ev'n Death-warrants thought they'd best A more limited Monarchy could not well be. Be lively too, and join the rest.
I was call’d upon then, in that moment of puzzle,
To choose my own Minister—just as thoy muzzle But, oh the basest of defections !
A playful young bear, and then mock his disaster, His letter about “predilections,”—
By bidding him choose out his own dancingHis own dear Letter, void of grace, Now flew up in its parent's face ! Shock'd with his breach of filial duty,
I thought the best way, as a dutiful son, He just could murmur“ et Tu Brute !"
Was to do as Old Royalty's self would have done. Then sunk, subdued upon the floor
So I sent word to say, I would keep the whole At Fox's bust, to rise no more!
The same chest of tools, without cleansing or I waked—and pray'd, with lifted hand,
patching; “Oh! never may this Dream provo true; For tools of this kind, ise Martinus's sconce ;* “ Though paper overwhelms the land,
Would lose all their beauty, if purihal ənce; “Let it not crush the Sovereign too!" And think-only think—if our Father should
find, Upon graciously coming again to his mind, That improvement had spoild any favorite ad
That R-se was grown honest, or W—stm-rel-nd
wiser OF A CELEBRATED LETTER."
That R-- was, ev'n by one twinkle, the
brighterAt length, dearest Freddy, the moment is nigh, Or L--rp-l's speeches but half a pound lightWhen, with P-rc-v-l's leave, I may throw my chains by ;
What a shock to his old royal heart it would be ! And, as time now is precious, the first thing I do, No far were such dreams of improvement from Is to sit down and write a wiso letter to you.
And it pleased me to find, at the House, where, you
know, There's such good mutton cutlets, and strong
curaçoa," That the Marchioness call'd me a duteous old boy,
And my Y-rm—th’s red whiskers grew redder I meant before now to have sent you this Letter,
for joy. But Y—r—th and I thought perhaps 'twould be better
You know, my dear Freddy, how oft, if I would, To wait till the Irish affairs pero decided
By the law of last Sessions I might have done good. (That is, till both Houses had prosed and divided, I might have withheld these political noodles With all due appearance of thought and digestion,) From knocking their heads against hot Yankee For, though H—r—rd House had long settled the
I might have told Ireland I pitied her lot, I thought it but decent, between me and you, Might have sooth'd her with hope_but you know That the two other Houses should settle it too.
I did not.
I Letter from his Royal Highness the Prince Regent to the Dake of York, Feb. 13, 1812.
2 " I think it hardly necessary to call your recollection to the recent circumstances under which I assumed the authority delegated to me by Parliament."-Prince's Letter.
* "My sense of duty to our Royal father solely decided that choice.”— Ibid.
The antique shield of Martinus Scriblerus, which, upon scouring, turned out to be only an old sconce.
6 "I waived any personal gratification, in order that his Majesty might resume, on his restoration to health, every power and prerogative," &c.—Prince's Letter.
6 " And I have the satisfaction of knowing that such was the opinion of persons for whose judgment,” &c. &c.-bid.
* The letter-writer's favorite luncheon.
And my wish is, in truth, that the best of old I am proud to declare I have no predilections, fellows
My heart is a sieve, where some scatter'd affections Should not, on recovering, have cause to be jealous, Are just danced about for a moment or two, But find that, while he has been laid on the shelf, And the finer they are, the more sure to run We've been all of us nearly as mad as himself.
through: You smile at my hopes—but the Doctors and I, Neithor feel I resentments, nor wish there should Are the last that can think the K—ng ever will die.' come ill
To mortal — except (now I think on't) Beau A new era's arrived,—though you'd hardly be Br-mm-1, lieve it
Who threaten'd last year, in a superfine passion, And all things, of course, must be new to receive it. To cut me, and bring the old Kếng into fashion. New villas, new fêtes, (which ev'n Waithman at This is all I can lay to my conscience at present; tends,
When such is my temper, 40 neutral, so pleasant, New saddles, new helmets, and—why not new So royally free from all tiuublesome feelings, friends ?
So little encumber'a w cuth is my dealings,
What I was at Newmarket the same I am now.)
ing) Such capering !—Such vaporing !-Such rigor! I hope, like the Vender of Best Patent Blacking, Such vigor!
“ To meet with the gen'rous and kind approbation North, South, East, and West, they have cut such “Of a canüd, enlighten'd, and liberal nation."
a figure, That soon they will bring the whole world round By the by, ere I close this magnificent Letter,
(No man, except Pole, could have writ you a And leave us no friends—but Old Nick and Algiers. better)
'Twould please me if those, whom I've humbugg'd When I think of the glory they've beam'd on my so long chains,
With the notion (good men !) that I knew right 'Tis enough quite to turn my illustrious brains. It is true we are bankrupts in commerce and riches, Would a few of them join me-mind, only a fewBut think how we find our Allies in new breeches ! | To let too much light in on me never would do ; We've lost the warm hearts of the Irish, 'tis granted, But even Grey's brightness shan't make me afraid, But then we've got Java, an island much wanted, While I've C-md-n and Eld-n to fly to for To put the last lingering few who remain,
shade; Of the Walcheren warriors, out of their pain. Nor will Holland's clear intellect do us much harm, Then how Wellington fights! and how squabbles While there's W-stm-rel-nd near him to weakhis brother!
en the charm. For Papists the one, and with Papists the other; As for Moira's high spirit, if aught can subdue it, One crushing Napoleon by taking a City,
Sure joining with H-rtf—rd and Y-rm-th will While t'other lays waste a whole Cath’lic Com
do it! mittee.
Between R-d-r and Wh-rt-n let Sheridan sit, Oh deeds of renown shall I boggle or flinch, And the fogs will soon quench even Sheridan's wit: With such prospects before me? by Jove, not an And against all the pure public feeling that glows inch.
Ev'n in Whitbread himself we've a Host in G-rge No-let England's affairs go to rack, if they will,
R-se! We'll look after th' affairs of the Continent still ; So, in short, if they wish to have Places, they And, with nothing at home but starvation and riot,
may, Find Lisbon in bread, and keep Sicily quiet. And I'll thank you to tell all these matters to Grey,
1“I certainly am the last person in the kingdom to whom 4 "I cannot conclude without expressing the gratification it can be permitted to despair of our royal father's recovery." I should feel if some of those persons with whom the earl -Prince's Letter.
habits of my public life were formed would strengthen my ? “A new era is now arrived, and I cannot but reflect hands, and constitute a part of my government."- Ibid. with satisfaction," &c.- Ibid.
5 " You are authorized to communicate these sentiments 3 “I have no predilections to indulge,-no resenlients to to Lord Grey, who, I have no doubt, will make them know? gratify."--Ibid.
to Lord Grenville."-Ibid.
Ranging these in order due, Pluck me next an old Cuckoo; Emblem of the happy fates Of easy, kind, cornuted mates. Puck him well-be sure you doWho wouldn't be an old Cuckoo, Thus to have his plumage bless'd, Beaming on a R-y-crest ?
Bravo, Plumist!—now what bird Shall we find for Plume the third ? You must get a learned Owl, Bleakest of black-letter fowl,— Bigot bird, that hates the light," Foe to all that's fair and bright. Seize his quills, (so form’d to pen Books, that shun the search of men ;
Thursday. At Levee to-day made another sad blunderWhat can be come over me lately, I wonder ? The Pr-co was as cheerful, as is, all his life, He had never been troubled with Friends or a
Wire“Fine weather,” says he—to which I, who must
prate, Answer'd, “ Yes, Sir, but changeable rather, of late." He took it, I fear, for he look'd somewhat gruff, And handled his new pair of whiskers so rough, That before all the courtiers I fear'd they'd como
off, And then, Lord, how Gerambo would triumphantly
1 I shall send a copy of this letter immediately to Mr. Perceval."---Prince's Letter. • Sce Prior's poem, entitled “The Dove." P-re-1-1.
* In allusion to "the Book" which created such a sensation at that period.
6 The incog, vehicle of the Pr-ce.
Mem.—to buy for son Dicky some unguent or lotion Cried aloud, one and all, “ Come, your Godships To nourish his whiskers-suro road to promotion !!
“ You'll not do for us, though you may do for Saturday.
Then, trampling these images under their feet, My Lord loves music, and, wo know,
They sent Crack a petition, beginning “Great Has “two strings always to his bow.”
Cæsar! In choosing songs, the R-g-t named “We're willing to worship ; but only entreat “ Had I a heart for falsehood framed."
“ That you'll find us some decenter Godheads While gentle H—rtf—d begg'd and pray'd
than these are." For “ Young I am, and sore afraid.”
“I'll try,” says King Crack-so they furnish'd him
models Of better shaped Gods, but he sent them all
Some were chisellid too fine, some had beads 'stead EPIGRAM.
In short, they were all much too godlike for What news to-day ?-Oh! worse and worse
Crack “ Mac is the Pr-ce's Privy Purse !"The Pr-ce's Purse! no, no, you fool,
So he took to his darling old Idols again, You mean the Pr-ce's Ridicule.
And, just mending their legs and new bronzing
their faces, In opon defiance of Gods and of man, Set the monsters up grinning once more in their
KING CRACK AND HIS IDOLS.
WRITTEN AFTER THE LATE NEGOTIATION FOR A NETV
King CRACK was the best of all possiblo Kings, (At least, so his Courtiers would swear to you WHAT'S MY THOUGHT I IKE?
gladly,) But Crack now and then would do het'rodox things, Quest. Why is a Pump like V—SC--nt C-stiAnd, at last, took to worshipping Images sadly.
Answ. Because it is a slender thing of wood, Some broken-down Idols, that long had been placed That up and down its awkward arnı doth sway,
In his father's old Cabinet, pleased him so inuch, And coolly spout and spout and spoi t away, That he knolt down and worshipp'd, though—such In one weak, washy, everlasting flood !
was his tasteThey were monstrous to look at, and rotten to
And these were the beautiful Gods of King
1 England is not the only country where merit of this kind * One of those antediluvian Princes with whom Maneth is noticed and rewarded " I remember," says Tavernier, and Whiston seem so intimately acquainted. If we ha "to have seen one of the King of Persia's porters, whose the Memoirs of Thoth, from which Manetho compiled h moustaches were so long that he could tie them behind his History, we should find, I dare say, that Crack was on neck, for which reason he had a double pension."
a Regent, and that he, perhaps, succeeded Typhon, wt ? A rhetorical figure used by Lord C-sti--r--gh, in one (as Whiston says) was the last King of the Anlediluvia of his speeches.
Dynasty. * Colonel M-cm-h-n.