The Miscellaneous Writings and Speeches-3 [89]
with relics and vermin, Will follow, Lord Westmoreland fears, To effect what their chiefs may determine. Lollard's bower, good authorities say, Is again fitting up for a prison; And a wood-merchant told me to-day 'Tis a wonder how faggots have risen. "The finance scheme of Canning contains A new Easter-offering tax; And he means to devote all the gains To a bounty on thumb-screws and racks. Your living, so neat and compact-- Pray, don't let the news give you pain!-- Is promised, I know for a fact, To an olive-faced Padre from Spain." I read, and I felt my heart bleed, Sore wounded with horror and pity; So I flew, with all possible speed, To our Protestant champion's committee. True gentlemen, kind and well-bred! No fleering! no distance! no scorn! They asked after my wife who is dead, And my children who never were born. They then, like high-principled Tories, Called our Sovereign unjust and unsteady, And assailed him with scandalous stories, Till the coach for the voters was ready. That coach might be well called a casket Of learning and brotherly love: There were parsons in boot and in basket; There were parsons below and above. There were Sneaker and Griper, a pair Who stick to Lord Mulesby like leeches; A smug chaplain of plausible air, Who writes my Lord Goslingham's speeches. Dr Buzz, who alone is a host, Who, with arguments weighty as lead, Proves six times a week in the Post That flesh somehow differs from bread. Dr Nimrod, whose orthodox toes Are seldom withdrawn from the stirrup; Dr Humdrum, whose eloquence flows, Like droppings of sweet poppy syrup; Dr Rosygill puffing and fanning, And wiping away perspiration; Dr Humbug who proved Mr Canning The beast in St John's Revelation. A layman can scarce form a notion Of our wonderful talk on the road; Of the learning, the wit, and devotion, Which almost each syllable showed: Why divided allegiance agrees So ill with our free constitution; How Catholics swear as they please, In hope of the priest's absolution; How the Bishop of Norwich had bartered His faith for a legate's commission; How Lyndhurst, afraid to be martyr'd, Had stooped to a base coalition; How Papists are cased from compassion By bigotry, stronger than steel; How burning would soon come in fashion, And how very bad it must feel. We were all so much touched and excited By a subject so direly sublime, That the rules of politeness were slighted, And we all of us talked at a time; And in tones, which each moment grew louder, Told how we should dress for the show, And where we should fasten the powder, And if we should bellow or no. Thus from subject to subject we ran, And the journey passed pleasantly o'er, Till at last Dr Humdrum began; From that time I remember no more. At Ware he commenced his prelection, In the dullest of clerical drones; And when next I regained recollection We were rambling o'er Trumpington stones. ...
SONG. (1827.) O stay, Madonna! stay; 'Tis not the dawn of day That marks the skies with yonder opal streak: The stars in silence shine; Then press thy lips to mine, And rest upon my neck thy fervid cheek. O sleep, Madonna! sleep; Leave me to watch and weep O'er the sad memory of departed joys, O'er hope's extinguished beam, O'er fancy's vanished dream; O'er all that nature gives and man destroys. O wake, Madonna! wake; Even now the purple lake Is dappled o'er with amber flakes of light; A glow is on the hill; And every trickling rill In golden threads leaps down from yonder height. O fly, Madonna! fly, Lest day and envy spy What only love and night may safely know: Fly, and tread softly, dear! Lest those who hate us hear The sounds of thy light footsteps as they go. ...
POLITICAL GEORGICS. (MARCH 1828.) "Quid faciat laetas segetes," etc. How cabinets are formed, and how destroy'd, How Tories are confirmed, and Whigs decoy'd, How in nice times a prudent man should vote, At what conjuncture he should turn his coat, The truths fallacious, and the candid lies, And all the lore of sleek majorities, I sing, great Premier. Oh, mysterious two, Lords of our fate, the Doctor and the Jew, If,
SONG. (1827.) O stay, Madonna! stay; 'Tis not the dawn of day That marks the skies with yonder opal streak: The stars in silence shine; Then press thy lips to mine, And rest upon my neck thy fervid cheek. O sleep, Madonna! sleep; Leave me to watch and weep O'er the sad memory of departed joys, O'er hope's extinguished beam, O'er fancy's vanished dream; O'er all that nature gives and man destroys. O wake, Madonna! wake; Even now the purple lake Is dappled o'er with amber flakes of light; A glow is on the hill; And every trickling rill In golden threads leaps down from yonder height. O fly, Madonna! fly, Lest day and envy spy What only love and night may safely know: Fly, and tread softly, dear! Lest those who hate us hear The sounds of thy light footsteps as they go. ...
POLITICAL GEORGICS. (MARCH 1828.) "Quid faciat laetas segetes," etc. How cabinets are formed, and how destroy'd, How Tories are confirmed, and Whigs decoy'd, How in nice times a prudent man should vote, At what conjuncture he should turn his coat, The truths fallacious, and the candid lies, And all the lore of sleek majorities, I sing, great Premier. Oh, mysterious two, Lords of our fate, the Doctor and the Jew, If,