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But this comes, Master Ben, of yo:ir curst foreign notions,
AN AMATORY COLLOQUY BETWEEN BANK AND GOVERNMENT,
Is all then forgotten ?-those amorous pranks
You and I, in our youth, my dear Government, played —
And enjoyed the endearing advances I made.
That a dashing, expensive young couple should do,
But none against owing, dear helpmate, on you ?
So happily calls it) of Love and Direction ;'
Grow good in our old age, and cut the connexion ?
This paying in cash plays the devil with wooing
We've both had our swing, but I plainly foresee
There must soon be a stop to our bill-ing and cooing. Propagation in reason-a small child or two
Even Reverend Malthus himself is a friend to ; The issue of some folks is moderate and few
But ours, my dear corporate Bank, there's no end to ! So,-hard as it is on a pair who've already
Disposed of so many pounds, shillings, and pence ; And, in spite of that pink of prosperity, Freddy, Who'd even in famine cry, '
Dn the expense !'The day is at hand, my Papyrial Venus,
When, high as we once used to carry our capers, Those soft billets-doux we're now passing between us
Will serve but to keep Mrs. C-tts in curl-papers ; And when-if we still must continue our love
After all that is past-our amour, it is clear (Like that which Miss Danaë managed with Jove),
Must all be transacted in bullion, my dear !
ODE TO THE GODDESS CERES.
BY SIR T-SL--E.
Lcgifera Cereri Phæboque.'-Virgil.
(Among other odd whims of those comical bodies), Adorned with somniferous poppies, to show
Thou wert always a true Country-gentleman's Goddess ! Behold, in his best shooting-jacket, before thee,
An eloquent 'Squire, who most humbly beseeches, Great Queen of Mark Lane (if the thing doesn't bore thee),
Thou'lt read o'er the last of his-never-last speeches Ah ! Ceres, thou knowest not the slander and scorp
Now heaped upon England's 'Squirearchy so boasted; Improving on Hunt's scheme, instead of the Corn,
'Tis now the Corn-growers, alas ! that are roasted ! In speeches, in books, in all shapes they attack us
Reviewers, economists—fellows, no doubt,
And Gods of high fashion, know little about.
Who thinks just as little of settling a nation As he would of smoking his pipe, or of taking,
(What he himself calls) his .post-prandial vibration.”
' To distinguish her from the 'Aurea.'
There are two Mr. M--s, too, whom those that like reading
Through all that's unreadable, call very clever;-
Junior makes war on all breeding whatever !
Between ultra blockheads and superfine sages;
Thou'lt find in my Speech, if thou'lt read a few pages.
And that of all 'Squires I've the honour of meeting,
To say that poor people are fond of cheap eating.
That dwell in each pale manufacturer's heart,
That would make thee dear Goddess, less dear than thou art !
, in fond combination,
Cry out, with one voice, for High Rents and Starvation !!
Or how dull he may be, if, with dignified spirit, he,
We shall all have a long run of Freddy's prosperity.
To hate the whole crew who would take our rents from us,
That last honest Uni-corno would be -Sir Th s!
DIALOGUE BETWEEN A SOVEREIGN AND A ONE-POUND NOTE.
O ego non felix, quam tu fugis, ut pavet acres
In the pocket of my coat,
• How happens it, I prithee,
That though I'm wedded with thee,
! Road to Ruin.'
allusion to the natural history of the unicorn, Dicta Fames Cereris (quamvis contraria which is supposed to be something between the semper
Bos and the Asinus, and, as Rees jclopædia Illius est operi) peragit.- Ovid.
tells us, has a particular liking for anything 2 This is meant not so much for a pun, as in chaste.
Like your sex, fond of change,
With silver you can range,
While with me—on my word,
Not my Lady and my Lord
The indignant Note replied
(Lying crumpled by his side), •Shame, shame, it is yourself that roam, Sir,
One cannot look askance,
But, whip! you're off to France, Leaving nothing but old rags at home, Sir!
* Your scampering began
From the moment Parson Van, Poor man, made us one in Love's fetter.
“For better or for worse
Is the usual marriage curse :
• In vain are laws passed,
There's nothing holds you fast, Though you know, sweet Sovereign, I adore you
At the smallest hint in life,
You forsake your lawful wife, As other Sovereigns did before you.
I flirt with Silver, true
But what can ladies do,
And as to falsehood, stuff!
I shall soon be false enough, When I get among those wicked Bank Directors.'
The Sovereign, smiling on her,
Now swore, upon his honour, To be henceforth domestic and loyal
But, within an hour or two,
Why-I sold him to a Jew, And he's now at No. 10, Palais Royal.
AN EXPOSTULATION TO LORD KING.
Quem das finem, Rex magne, laborum ?-Virgil. How can you, my Lord, thus delight to torment all
The Peers of the realm about cheapening their corn, When you know, if one hasn't a very bigh rental,
'Tis hardly worth while being very high born!
1 See the proceedings of the Lords, Wednesday, March 1, when Lord King was severely reproved by several of the noble Peers for making so many speeches against the Corn Laws.
Why bore them so rudely, each night of your life,
On a question, my Lord, there's so much to abhos in? A question-like asking one, ‘How is your wife ?'
At once so confounded domestic and foreign.
As to weavers, no matter how poorly they feast,
But Peers and such animals fed up for show, (Like the well-physicked elephant, lately deceased),
Take a wonderful quantum of cramming, you know. You might see, my dear Baron, how bored and distrest
Were their high noble hearts by your merciless tale, When the force of the agony wrung even a jest
From the frugal Scotch wit of my Lord --le !!
Bright Peer! to whom Nature and Berwickshire gave
A humour, endowed with effects so provoking, That, when the whole House looks unusually grave,
You may always conclude that Lord L-d-le's joking!
And then, those unfortunate weavers of Perth
Not to know the vast difference Providence dooms Between weavers of Perth and Peers of high birth,
'Twixt those who have heir-looms, and those who've but looms,
To talk now of starving, as great At-1 said?
(And the nobles all cheered, and the bishops all wondered) When, some years ago, he and others had fed
Of these same hungry devils about fifteen hundred ?
It follows from hence—and the Duke's very words
Should be published wherever poor rogues of this craft are That weavers, once rescued from starving by Lords,
Are bound to be starved by said Lords ever after.
When Rome was uproarious, her knowing patricians
Made Bread and the Circus' a cure for each row : But not so the plan of our noble physicians,
• No Bread and the Tread-mill's' the regimen now.
So cease, my dear Baron of Ockham, your prose,
As I shall my poetry-neither convinces ;
When you tread on a nobleman's corn, 3 how he winces.
1 This noble Earl said, that when he heard / tress, the landed interest of Perth had supported the petition came from ladies' boot and shoe 1500 of them. It was a poor return for these makers, he thought it must be against " the corns very men now to petition against the persons which they inflicted on the fair sex." »
who had fed them. 2 The Duke of Athol said, that at a former 3 An improvement, we flatter ourselves, on period, when these weavers were in great dis- Lord L.'s joke,