Classic Poem

Conseil aux Belges.

Brothers of Belgium, come, to issue bring
Your doubts! zounds, finish them and make a king!
These eight months past good courtiers all bemoan,
That so republican your airs have grown
Stuff for a king can readily be found;
Jean, Paul, my neighbor, and myself stand round;
Hatched without sitting, royal eggs abound
Quick, your doubts to issue bring;
Make a king; zounds, make a king!

A prince! what blessings will he o'er you shed!
First, Etiquette will come with stately tread:
Crosses and ribbons, then — their sale is near —
Then duke, and marquis, baron, count, and peer;
Next, a gay throne, gold, silk, and pearl inlaid,
Though of its cushions some might feel afraid:
The anointing too, if Heaven but grant its aid
Quick, your doubts to issue bring;
Make a king; zounds, make a king!

Kissing of hands and shows you then shall see;
Odes, speeches, fireworks, flowers, shall plenteous be;
And many a man shall sudden sickness feign,
Soon as his Majesty feels some slight pain.
On poor men's caps, on regal crowns, on all,
By God's decree, some kind of vermin fall —
O'er pride supreme tormenting courtiers crawl.
Quick, your doubts to issue bring;
Make a king; zounds, make a king!

It shall rain lacqueys, every sort and size;
Judges, and prefects, and police, and spies:
Soldiers, in force enough to serve their turn;
Joy, that would colored lamps by hundreds burn
The budget comes! For twenty years to feed
Athens and Sparta would cost less, indeed!
The ogre's dined — the bill, good people, heed!
Quick, your doubts to issue bring;
Make a king; zounds, make a king!

But what! I jest; for well in France 'tis known,
How warmly there I have espoused the throne
Besides, our history is a guarantee;
Well-doing princes there alone we see:
The people's sires, they cram them with good fare;
The more these learn, the less have those of care:
The thirteenth Louis was good Henry's heir!
Quick, your doubts to issue bring;
Make a king; zounds, make a king!