FullReads

While to his case a tear I dropt,
And sauntered home, thought I–ye Gods!
How many heads might thus be swopt,
And, after all, not make much odds!
For instance, there’s VANSITTART’S head–
(“Tam carum” it may well be said)
If by some curious chance it came
To settle on BILL SOAMES’S[3] shoulders,
The effect would turn out much the same
On all respectable cash-holders;
Except that while, in its new socket,
The head was planning schemes to win
A zig-zag way into one’s pocket,
The hands would plunge directly in.

Good Viscount SIDMOUTH, too, instead
Of his own grave, respected head,
Might wear (for aught I see that bars)
Old Lady WILHELMINA FRUMP’S–
So while the hand signed Circulars,
The head might lisp out “What is trumps?”–
The REGENT’S brains could we transfer
To some robust man-milliner,
The shop, the shears, the lace, and ribbon
Would go, I doubt not, quite as glib on;
And, vice versa, take the pains
To give the PRINCE the shopman’s brains,
One only change from thence would flow,
Ribbons would not be wasted so.

‘Twas thus I pondered on, my Lord;
And, even at night, when laid in bed,
I found myself, before I snored,
Thus chopping, swopping head for head.
At length I thought, fantastic elf!
How such a change would suit myself.
‘Twixt sleep and waking, one by one,
With various pericraniums saddled,
At last I tried your Lordship’s on,
And then I grew completely addled–
Forgot all other heads, od rot ’em!
And slept, and dreamt that I was–BOTTOM.

August 21.

Walked out with daughter BID–was shown
The House of Commons and the Throne,
Whose velvet cushion’s just the same
NAPOLEON sat on–what a shame!
Oh! can we wonder, best of speechers,
When LOUIS seated thus we see,
That France’s “fundamental features”
Are much the same they used to be?
However,–God preserve the Throne,
And cushion too–and keep them free;
From accidents, which have been known
To happen even to Royalty![4]

August 28.

Read, at a stall (for oft one pops
On something at these stalls and shops,
That does to quote and gives one’s Book
A classical and knowing look.–
Indeed, I’ve found, in Latin, lately,
A course of stalls improves me greatly)–
‘Twas thus I read that in the East
A monarch’s fat‘s a serious matter;
And once in every year, at least,
He’s weighed–to see if he gets fatter:[5]
Then, if a pound or two he be
Increased, there’s quite a jubilee![6]
Suppose, my Lord–and far from me
To treat such things with levity–
But just suppose the Regent’s weight
Were made thus an affair of state;
And, every sessions, at the close,–
‘Stead of a speech, which, all can see, is
Heavy and dull enough, God knows–
We were to try how heavy he is.
Much would it glad all hearts to hear–
That, while the Nation’s Revenue
Loses so many pounds a year,
The PRINCE, God bless him! gains a few.
With bales of muslin, chintzes, spices,
I see the Easterns weigh their Kings;–
But, for the REGENT, my advice is,
We should throw in much heavier things:
For instance—–‘s quarto volumes,
Which, tho’ not spices, serve to wrap them;
Dominie STODDART’S Daily columns,
“Prodigious!”–in, of course, we’d clap them–
Letters, that CARTWRIGHT’S[7] pen indites,
In which, with logical confusion,
The Major like a Minor writes,
And never comes to a Conclusion:–
Lord SOMERS’S pamphlet–or his head–
(Ah! that were worth its weight in lead!)
Along with which we in may whip, sly,
The Speeches of Sir JOHN COX HIPPISLY;
That Baronet of many words,
Who loves so, in the House of Lords,
To whisper Bishops–and so nigh
Unto their wigs in whispering goes,
That you may always know him by
A patch of powder on his nose!–
If this won’t do, we in must cram
The “Reasons” of Lord BUCKINGHAM;
(A Book his Lordship means to write,
Entitled “Reasons for my Ratting”:)
Or, should these prove too small and light,
His rump’s a host–we’ll bundle that in!
And, still should all these masses fail
To stir the REGENT’S pondrous scale,
Why, then, my Lord, in heaven’s name,
Pitch in, without reserve or stint,
The whole of RAGLEY’S beauteous Dame–
If that won’t raise him, devil’s in it!