Classic Poem

To a great number of Great M EN , newly made .

S EE , a new progeny descends
From heav'n, of Britain's truest friends.
Oh muse attend my call!
To one of these direct thy flight,
Or, to be sure that we are right,
Direct it to them all.

O Clio! these are golden times;
I shall get money for my rhymes,
And thou no more so tatter'd;
Make haste then, lead the way, begin,
For here are people just come in
Who never yet were flatter'd.

But first to C — r — — — t fain you'd sing;
Indeed he's nearest to the K — — — ,
Yet careless how you use him:
Give him, I beg, no labour'd lays;
He will not promise , if you praise,
And laugh if you abuse him.

Then (but there's a vast space betwixt)
The new made E. of B — h comes next,
Stiff in his popular pride:
His step, his gait, describe the man;
They paint him better than I can,
Waddling from side to side.

Each hour a different face he wears,
Now in a fury, now in tears,
Now laughing, now in sorrow;
Now he'll command, and now obey,
Bellows for liberty to-day,
And roars for pow'r to-morrow.

At noon the tories had him tight,
With staunchest Whigs he supp'd at night,
Each party try'd to've won him;
But he himself did so divide,
Shuffled and cut from side to side,
That now both parties shun him.

See yon old, dull, important lord,
Who at the long'd-for money-board
Sits first, but does not lead:
His younger brethern all things make;
So that the T — — — y's like a snake,
And the tail moves the head.

Why did ye cross God's good intent?
He made you for a pr — si — — t;
Back to that station go:
No longer act this farce of power,
We know you miss'd the thing before,
And have not got it now.

See valiant C — m, valorous S — r,
Britain's two thunderbolts of war,
Now strike my ravish'd eye:
But, oh! their strength and spirits flown,
They, like their conquering swords, are grown
Rusty with lying by.

Dear Bat, I'm glad you've got a place,
And since things thus have chang'd their face
You'll give opposing o'er:
'Tis comfortable to be in,
And think what a damn'd while you've been,
Like Peter, at the door.

See who comes next — I kiss thy hands,
But not in flattery, S — — l S-s;
For since you are in power,
That gives you knowledge, judgment, parts,
The courtier's wiles, the statesman's Arts,
Of which you'd none before.

When great impending dangers shook
Its state, old Rome Dictators took
Judiciously from plough:
So they (but at a pinch thou knowest)
To make the highest of the lowest,
The exchequer gave to you.

When in your hands the seals you sound,
Did it not make your brains go round?
Did it not turn your head?
I fancy (but you hate a joke)
You felt as Nell did when she 'woke
In lady Loverule's bed.

See H — e V — e in pomp appear,
And since he's made V — e T — — r,
Grown taller by some inches:
See Tw — — — follow C — — — t's call;
See Hanoverian G — — r, and all
The black funeral F — — s.

And see with that important face
Beranger's clerk to take his place,
Into the t — — — y come;
With pride and meanness act thy part,
Thou look'st the very thing thou art,
Thou Bourgeois Gentilhomme.

Oh my poor country! is this all
You've gain'd by the long-labour'd fall
Of Wa — — le and his tools?
He was a knave indeed — what then?
He'd parts — but this new set of men
A'n't only knaves, but fools.

More changes, better times this isle
Demands; oh! Chesterfield, Argyle,
To bleeding Britain bring 'em:
Unite all hearts, appease each storm,
'Tis yours such actions to perform,
My pride shall be to sing 'em.