Take Army-no, take Leggy Tailors

Down to the Fleet, for no one but a nincum
Out of our nation's narrow income

Would furnish such wide trowsers to the Sailors.
Next take, to wonder him,

The Master of the Horse's horse from under him;
Retrench from those who tend on Royal ills
Wherewith to gild their pills.

And tell the Stag-hound's Master he must keep
The deer, &c., cheap.

Close as new brooms

Scrub the Bed Chamber Grooms;
Abridge the Master of the Ceremonies
Of his very moneys;

In short, at every salary have a pull,
And when folks come for pay

On quarter-day,

Stop half, and make them give receipts in full.

Oh, Mr. Hume, don't drink,

Or eat, or sleep, a wink,

Till you have argued over each reduction :

Let it be food to you, repose and suction;

Though you should make more motions by one half
Than any telegraph,

Item by item all these things enforce,

Be on your legs till lame, and talk till hoarse;
Have lozenges-mind, Dawson's—in your pocket,
And swing your arms till aching in their socket;
Or if awake you cannot keep,

Talk of retrenchment in your sleep;

Expose each Peachum, and show up each Lockit

Go down to the M.P.'s before you sup,
And while they're sitting blow them up,
As Guy Fawkes could not do with all his nous;
But now we live in different Novembers,

And safely you may walk into the House,
First split its ears, and then divide its members!

ODE TO SPENCER PERCIVAL, ESQ., M. P.3

Он Mr. Spencer!

I mean no offence, sir

Retrencher of each trencher, man or woman's;
Maker of days of ember,

Eloquent member

Of the House of Com-I mean to say short commonsThou Long Tom Coffin singing out, "Hold Fast"—

Avast!

Oh, Mr. Percival, I'll bet a dollar, a
Great growth of cholera,

And new deaths reckoned,

Will mark thy Lenten twenty-first and second.
The best of physicians, when they con it,
Depose the malady is in the air:

Oh, Mr. Spencer-if the ill is there—

Why should you bid the people live upon it?

Why should you make discourses against courses ;
While Doctors, though they bid us rub and chafe,
Declare, of all resources,

The man is safest who gets in the safe?

poor suicidal sinners

Discard their dinners,

Thoughtless how Heaven above will look upon't,
For men to die so wantonly of want!

By way of variety,

Think of the ineffectual piety

Of London's Bishop, at St. Faith's or Bride's,
Lecturing such chameleon insides,
Only to find

He's preaching to the wind.

Whatever others do or don't,

I cannot dare not-must not fast and won't,
Unless by night your day you let me keep,
And fast asleep ;

My constitution can't obey such censors;
I must have meat

Three times a day to eat,

My health's of such a sort-
To say the truth in short—

The coats of my stomach are not Spencers!

ODE TO ADMIRAL GAMBIER, G. C. B.4

"Well, if you reclaim such as Hood, your Society will deserve the thanks of the country."-TEMPERANCE SOCIETY'S HERALD, vol. i., No. 1, p. 8.

OH! Gam-I dare not mention bier

In such a temperate ear—

Oh! Admiral Gam-an admiral of the Blue,
Of course to read the Navy List aright,

For strictly shunning wine of either hue,
You can't be Admiral of the Red or White:
Oh, Admiral Gam! consider ere you call
On merry Englishmen to wash their throttles
With water only; and to break their bottles
To stick, for fear of trespass, on the wall
Of Exeter Hall!

Consider, I beseech, the contrariety
Of cutting off our brandy, gin, and rum,
And then, by tracts, inviting us to come
And "mix in your society!"

In giving rules to dine, or sup, or lunch,
Consider Nature's ends before you league us
To strip the Isle of Rum of all its punch-
To dock the Isle of Mull of all its negus-
Or doom-to suit your milk and water view—
The Isle of Sky to nothing but sky-blue!

Consider for appearance' sake-consider
The sorry figure of a spirit-ridder,
Going on this crusade against the suttler;
A sort of Hudibras-without a Butler!

Consider―ere you break the ardent spirits
Of father, mother, brother, sister, daughter;
What are your beverage's washy merits?
Gin may be low-but I have known low-water!

Consider well, before you thus deliver,
With such authority, your sloppy cannon ;
Should British tars taste nothing but the river,

Because the Chesapeake once fought the Shannon !

Consider too-before all Eau-de-vie,

Schiedam, or other drinkers, you rebut-
To bite a bitten dog all curs agree;

But who would cut a man because he's cut?

Consider―ere you bid the poor to fill

Their murmuring stomach with the "murmuring rill"-
Consider that their streams are not like ours,
Reflecting heaven, and margined by sweet flowers;
On their dark pools by day no sun reclines,
By night no Jupiter, no Venus shines;
Consider life's sour taste, that bids them mix
Rum with Acheron, or gin with Styx;

If you must pour out water to the poor, oh!
Let it be aqua d'oro !

Consider ere as furious as a griffin,

Against a glass of grog you make such work,

A man may like a stiff"

un,

And yet not be a Burke !

Consider, too, before you bid all skinkers
Turn water-drinkers,

What sort of fluid fills their native rivers;
Their Mudiboos, and Niles, and Guadalquivers.
How should you like, yourself, in glass or mug.
The Bog-the Bug-

The Maine-the Weser-or that freezer, Neva?
Nay, take the very rill of classic ground—
Lord Byron found

E'en Castaly the better for Geneva.

Consider-if to vote Reform's arrears,

His Majesty should please to make you peers,