Classic Poem

" AND now, " quoth the goddess, in accents jocose,
" Having got good materials, I 'll brew such a dose
" Of Double X mischief as, mortals shall say,
" They 've not known its equal for many a long day. "
Here she winkt to her subaltern imps to be steady,
And all wagged their fire-tipt tails and stood ready.

" So, now for the ingredients: — first, hand me that bishop; "
Whereupon, a whole bevy of imps run to fish up
From out a large reservoir wherein they pen 'em.
The blackest of all its black dabblers in venom;
And wrapping him up (lest the virus should ooze,
And one " drop of the immortal " Right Rev. they might lose)
In the sheets of his own speeches, charges, reviews,
Pop him into the caldron, while loudly a burst
From the by-standers welcomes ingredient the first!

" Now fetch the Ex-Chancellor. " muttered the dame —
" He who 's called after Harry the Older, by name. "
" The Ex-Chancellor! " echoed her imps, the whole crew of 'em —
" Why talk of one Ex, when your Mischief has two of 'em? "
" True, true, " said the hag, looking arch at her elves,
" And a double- Ex dose they compose, in themselves. "
This joke, the sly meaning of which was seen lucidly,
Set all the devils a laughing most deucedly.
So, in went the pair, and (what none thought surprising)
Showed talents for sinking as great as for rising;
While not a grim phiz in that realm but was lighted
With joy to see spirits so twin-like united —
Or (plainly to speak) two such birds of a feather,
In one mess of venom thus spitted together.
Here a flashy imp rose — some connection, no doubt,
Of the young lord in question — and, scowling about,
" Hoped his fiery friend, Stanley, would not be left out;
" As no schoolboy unwhipt, the whole world must agree,
" Loved mischief, pure mischief, more dearly than he. "
But, no — the wise hag would n't hear of the whipster;
Not merely because, as a shrew, he eclipst her,
And nature had given him, to keep him still young,
Much tongue in his head and no head in his tongue;
But because she well knew that, for change ever ready,
He'd not even to mischief keep properly steady:
That soon even the wrong side would cease to delight,
And, for want of a change, he must swerve to the right ;
While, on each , so at random his missiles he threw,
That the side he attackt was most safe, of the two, —
This ingredient was therefore put by on the shelf,
There to bubble, a bitter, hot mess, by itself.
" And now, " quoth the hag, as her caldron she eyed.
And the tidbits so friendlily rankling inside,
" There wants but some seasoning; — so, come, ere I stew 'em,
" By way of a relish, we'll throw in " John Tuam",
" In cooking up mischief, there's no flesh or fish
" Like your meddling High Priest, to add zest to the dish, "
Thus saying, she pops in the Irish Grand Lama —
Which great event ends the First Act of the Drama.