« PreviousContinue »
TWENTY-EIGHT AND TWENTY-NINE.
“Rien n'est changé, mes amis.”—Charles X.
I HEARD a sick man's dying sigh,
And an infant's idle laughter,
The New came dancing after !
Let Revelry hold her ladle;
Fling roses on the cradle ;
Pages to pour the wine;
And a health to Twenty-Nine !
Alas for human happiness!
Alas for human sorrow ! Our yesterday is nothingness,
What else will be our morrow ?
And Knavery stealing purses ;
And wits by making verses ;
While sages prate and courts debate,
The same stars set and shine; And the world as it rolled through Twenty-Eight,
Must roll through Twenty-Nine.
Some King will come, in Heaven's good time,
To the tomb his father came to ; Some Thief will wade through blood and crime
To a crown he has no claim to;
The manacles that bound her;
To fasten them proudly round her;
And combat and combine ;
We shall be in Twenty-Nine.
O'Connell will toil to raise the Rent,
And Kenyon to sink the Nation;
And Peel the Association ;
Will make ex-chancellors merry; .
And throats in the County Kerry;
On the Cabinet's design;
It will do in Twenty-Nine.
John Thomas Mugy, on a lonely hill,
Will do a deed of mystery;
Five columns with the history;
The prisoner quite collected,
And be very much affected;
As they hurry home to dine,
With the hangings of Twenty-nine.
And the Goddess of Love will keep her smiles,
And the God of Cups his orgies ; And there'll be riots in St. Giles,
And weddings in St. George's; And mendicants will sup like Kings,
And Lords will swear like lacqueys; And black eyes oft will lead to rings,
And rings will lead to black eyes;
In a dialect all divine;
They will part in Twenty-Nine.
And oh! I shall find how, day by day,
All thoughts and things look older ;
And the heart of Friendship colder;
But still I shall be what I have been,
Sworn foe to Lady Reason,
And fond of talking treason ;
And throw and write my line;
I shall worship in Twenty-Nine.
(JANUARY 1, 1829.)
SONG FOR THE FOURTEENTH OF FEB
BY A GENERAL LOVER.
“ Mille gravem telis, exhaustå pene pharetra.”
APOLLO has peeped through the shutter,
And wakened the witty and fair ;
The two-penny post's in despair;
A magic on blossom, on spray,
In chorus on Valentine's Day.
Away with ye, dreams of disaster,
Away with ye, visions of law,
Of pleadings I never shall draw!
Red tapes, unread volumes, away!
To see you on Valentine's Day.
I'll sit in my night-cap, like Hayley,
I'll sit with my arms crost, like Spain,