1828. Next week will be published (as “Lives” are the rage)The whole Reminiscences, wondrous and strange,Of a small puppy-dog that lived once in the cageOf the late noble Lion at Exeter ‘Change. Tho’ the dog is a dog of the kind they call “sad,”‘Tis a puppy that much to good breeding pretends;And few dogs have […]

BY A DANDY KEPT IN TOWN. “vox clamantis in deserto.” 1827. Said Malthus one day to a clownLying stretched on the beach in the sun,–“What’s the number of souls in this town?”–“The number! Lord bless you, there’s none. “We have nothing but dabs in this place,“Of them a great plenty there are;–But the soles, please […]

monstrum nulla virtute redemptum. Come, riddle-me-ree, come, riddle-me-ree,And tell me what my name may be.I am nearly one hundred and thirty years old,And therefore no chicken, as you may suppose;–Tho’ a dwarf in my youth (as my nurses have told),I have, every year since, been out-growing my clothes:Till at last such a corpulent giant I […]

A PARABLE.[1] 1838. See those cherries, how they coverYonder sunny garden wall;–Had they not that network over,Thieving birds would eat them all. So to guard our posts and pensions,Ancient sages wove a net,Thro’ whose holes of small dimensionsOnly certain knaves can get. Shall we then this network widen;Shall we stretch these sacred holes,Thro’ which even […]

Lament for the Loss of Lord Bathurst’s Tail.[1] All in again–unlookt for bliss!Yet, ah! one adjunct still we miss;–One tender tie, attached so longTo the same head, thro’ right and wrong.Why, Bathurst, why didst thou cut offThat memorable tail of thine?Why–as if one was not enough–Thy pig-tie with thy place resign,And thus at once both […]

“Cosi quel fiato gli spiriti maliDi qua, di la, di giu, di su gli mena.” Inferno, canto 5. I turned my steps and lo! a shadowy throngOf ghosts came fluttering towards me–blown along,Like cockchafers in high autumnal storms,By many a fitful gust that thro’ their formsWhistled, as on they came, with wheezy puff,And puft as–tho’ […]

qui facit per alium facit per se. ‘Mong our neighbors, the French, in the good olden timeWhen Nobility flourisht, great Barons and DukesOften set up for authors in prose and in rhyme,But ne’er took the trouble to write their own books. Poor devils were found to do this for their betters;–And one day a Bishop, […]

1828. Oft have I seen, in gay, equestrian pride,Some well-rouged youth round Astley’s Circus rideTwo stately steeds–standing, with graceful straddle,Like him of Rhodes, with foot on either saddle,While to soft tunes–some jigs and some andantes—He steers around his light-paced Rosinantes. So rides along, with canter smooth and pleasant,That horseman bold, Lord Anglesea, at present;–Papist and […]

“If” and “Perhaps.”[1] Oh tidings of freedom! oh accents of hope!Waft, waft them, ye zephyrs, to Erin’s blue sea,And refresh with their sounds every son of the Pope,From Dingle-a-cooch to far Donaghadee. “If mutely the slave will endure and obey,“Nor clanking his fetters nor breathing his pains,“His masters perhaps at some far distant day“May think […]

Supposed to be sung by OLD PROSY, the Jew, in the character of Major CARTWRIGHT. Vill nobodies try my nice Annual Pill,Dat’s to purify every ting nashty avay?Pless ma heart, pless ma heart, let ma say vat I vill,Not a Chrishtian or Shentleman minds vat I say.‘Tis so pretty a bolus!–just down let it go,And, […]

Stanzas from the Banks of the Shannon.[1] 1828. “Take back the virgin page.”MOORE’S Irish Melodies. No longer dear Vesey, feel hurt and uneasyAt hearing it said by the Treasury brother,That thou art a sheet of blank paper, my Vesey,And he, the dear, innocent placeman, another.[2] For lo! what a service we Irish have done thee;–Thou […]

BY ONE OF THE BOARD. 1828. Let other bards to groves repair,Where linnets strain their tuneful throats;Mine be the Woods and Forests whereThe Treasury pours its sweeter notes. No whispering winds have charms for me,Nor zephyr’s balmy sighs I ask;To raise the wind for RoyaltyBe all our Sylvan zephyr’s task! And ‘stead of crystal brooks […]

Stanzas Written in Anticipation of Defeat.[1] 1828. Go seek for some abler defenders of wrong,If we must run the gantlet thro’ blood and expense;Or, Goths as ye are, in your multitude strong,Be content with success and pretend not to sense. If the words of the wise and the generous are vain,If Truth by the bowstring […]

1828. What, you, too, my ******, in hashes so knowing,Of sauces and soups Aristarchus profest!Are you, too, my savory Brunswicker, goingTo make an old fool of yourself with the rest? Far better to stick to your kitchen receipts;And–if you want something to tease–for variety,Go study how Ude, in his “Cookery,” treatsLive eels when he fits […]

“We are told that the bigots are growing old and fast wearing out. If it be so why not let us die in peace?”–LORD BEXLEY’S Letter to the Freeholders of Kent. Stop, Intellect, in mercy stop,Ye curst improvements, cease;And let poor Nick Vansittart dropInto his grave in peace. Hide, Knowledge, hide thy rising sun,Young Freedom, […]

“The parting Genius is with sighing sent.”MILTON. It is o’er, it is o’er, my reign is o’er;I hear a Voice, from shore to shore,From Dunfanaghy to Baltimore,And it saith, in sad, parsonic tone,“Great Tithe and Small are dead and gone!” Even now I behold your vanishing wings,Ye Tenths of all conceivable things,Which Adam first, as […]

A BALLAD Air.–“Sleep on, sleep on, my Kathleen dear.salvete, fratres Asini. ST. FRANCIS. Write on, write on, ye Barons dear,Ye Dukes, write hard and fast;The good we’ve sought for many a yearYour quills will bring at last.One letter more, Newcastle, pen,To match Lord Kenyon’s two,And more than Ireland’s host of men,One brace of Peers will […]

SCENE.–Penenden Plain. In the middle, a caldron boiling. Thunder.–Enter three Brunswickers. 1st Bruns.–Thrice hath scribbling Kenyon scrawled, 2d Bruns.–Once hath fool Newcastle bawled, 3d Bruns.–Bexley snores:–’tis time, ’tis time, 1st Bruns.–Round about the caldron go;In the poisonous nonsense throw.Bigot spite that long hath grownLike a toad within a stone,Sweltering in the heart of Scott,Boil we […]

Sir,– Most of your readers are no doubt acquainted with the anecdote told of a certain not over-wise judge who, when in the act of delivering a charge in some country court-house, was interrupted by the braying of an ass at the door. “What noise is that?” asked the angry judge. “Only an extraordinary echo […]

The present Lord Kenyon (the Peer who writes letters,For which the waste-paper folks much are his debtors)Hath one little oddity well worth reciting,Which puzzleth observers even more than his writing.Whenever Lord Kenyon doth chance to beholdA cold Apple-pie–mind, the pie must be cold–His Lordship looks solemn (few people know why),And he makes a low bow […]