Classic Poem

A custom has come up, of late,
Of making presents to the Great :
They send a turkey, or a hen,
To — who might better give them T EN

For Persia's king, at Ispahan
A splendid present you prepare:
But tell us, madam, where's the man
That will engage to take it there? —
It is a monstrous way to go,
And cash is rather scarce, you know.

The Prince that fills the Persian throne,
And reigns ten thousand miles away,
Has, surely, C ARPETS of his own,
His subjects weave him every day —
Then, why employ such pains and care
In presents , to be sent so far?

To waste your time for N ADIR S HAH ,
Is but a wild, romantic scheme;
He is a prince above the Law ,
His very nod is all supreme;
And presents that an Envoy brings,
He only takes from Brother Kings.

Are there not folks beneath your nose ,
(Not Fortune's favorites, we may swear)
The children of distress and woes ,
That ask your pity, claim your care? —
For such exert your generous paw,
And think no more of N ADIR S HAH .