7
| Whether 'tis freeman, whether bondman write Or breed or color Hubert can indict High cockalorumtibi ends in fight,— |
No rivets here, no iron to rust the soul
Despite of despot or his chains control)——
Erst rummy Lord of Stills, Church, Infant lands
Why trust your footing on these vile quicksands
Where weight of M. C. only sinks you deep
In mire you wade, but have not strength to leap?
Go; learn the fable of the Bull and Frog
Ye worthy worshippers of Guildhall Gog[1]
Alas! unlike the worthy plodding soul,
Who chased, in harness down the fleeting gaol,—
As eager youth pursued the Iris bound,
The more he searched, more distant it was found,
Lithgow; full well performed your thankless part
Your sole reward, a sound and honest heart,
That gladsome conscience, deeds not words impart,—
Let seasons roll; when history begin
And rumour trumpets every heinous sin
When all embezzlement is blazon'd broad
Your firm integrity shall fame record;
When bribes were barbed and virtuous, vilest deeds
A rara avis midst a herd of thieves——
May happy age succeed unblemished youth,
And Fortune's favors once repay the truth.——
See him of aspect dire and haughty gait
As though himself were a triumvirate,
Who dreams of honors, forges Bomerang screws
And wakes in anger Camõens lofty muse
Who damns the language that cooked such rhyme
(To spoil the Lusiad were a heinous crime:)
Your childish choler but provokes a sneer,
And makes you small, the very smallest beer,
- ↑ Those who remember the figures of Gog and Magog in Guildhall, London, will at once acknowledge the striking resemblance in feature and intellect.
