The Complete Poems of Sir Thomas Moore Part 236

As 'tis now, my dear Tully, some weeks since I started By railroad for earth, having vowed ere we parted To drop you a line by the Dead-Letter post, Just to say how I thrive in my new line of ghost, And how deucedly odd this live world all appears, To a man who's been dead now for three hundred years, I take up my pen, and with news of this earth Hope to waken by turns both your spleen and your mirth.

In my way to these sh.o.r.es, taking Italy first, Lest the change from Elysium too sudden should burst, I forgot not to visit those haunts where of yore You took lessons from Paetus in cookery's lore.

Turned aside from the calls of the rostrum and Muse, To discuss the rich merits of _rotis_ and stews, And preferred to all honors of triumph or trophy, A supper on prawns with that rogue, little Sophy.

Having dwelt on such cla.s.sical musings awhile, I set off by a steam-boat for this happy isle, (A conveyance _you_ ne'er, I think, sailed by, my Tully, And therefore, _per_ next, I'll describe it more fully,) Having heard on the way what distresses me greatly, That England's o'errun by _idolaters_ lately, Stark, staring adorers of wood and of stone, Who will let neither stick, stock or statue alone.

Such the sad news I heard from a tall man in black, Who from sports continental was hurrying back, To look after his t.i.thes;--seeing, doubtless, 'twould follow, That just as of old your great idol, Apollo, Devoured all the Tenths, so the idols in question, These wood and stone G.o.ds, may have equal digestion, And the idolatrous crew whom this Rector despises, May eat up the t.i.the-pig which _he_ idolizes.

London.

'Tis all but too true--grim Idolatry reigns In full pomp over England's lost cities and plains!

On arriving just now, as my first thought and care Was as usual to seek out some near House of Prayer, Some calm holy spot, fit for Christians to pray on, I was shown to--what think you?--a downright Pantheon!

A grand, pillared temple with niches and halls, Full of idols and G.o.ds, which they nickname St. Paul's;-- Tho' 'tis clearly the place where the idolatrous crew Whom the Rector complained of, their dark rites pursue; And, 'mong all the "strange G.o.ds" Abr'ham's father carved out,[1]

That he ever carv'd _stranger_ than these I much doubt.

Were it even, my dear TULLY, your Hebes and Graces, And such pretty things, that usurpt the Saints' places, I shouldn?t much mind,--for in this cla.s.sic dome Such folks from Olympus would feel quite at home.

But the G.o.ds they've got here!--such a queer omnium gatherum Of misbegot things that no poet would father 'em;-- Britannias in light summer-wear for the skies,-- Old Thames turned to stone, to his no small surprise,-- Father Nile, too,--a portrait, (in spite of what's said, That no mortal e'er yet got a glimpse of his _head_,) And a Ganges which India would think somewhat fat for't, Unless 'twas some full-grown Director had sat for't;-- Not to mention the _et caeteras_ of Genii and Sphinxes, Fame, Victory, and other such semi-clad minxes;-- Sea Captains,[2]--the idols here most idolized; And of whom some, alas! might too well be comprized Among ready-made Saints, as they died _cannonized_; With a mult.i.tude more of odd c.o.c.kneyfied deities, Shrined in such pomp that quite shocking to see it 'tis; Nor know I what better the Rector could do Than to shrine there his own beloved quadruped too; As most surely a t.i.the-pig, whate'er the world thinks, is A much fitter beast for a church than a Sphinx is.

But I'm called off to dinner--grace just has been said, And my host waits for n.o.body, living or dead.

[1] Joshua xxiv 2.

[2] Captains Mosse, Riou etc.

LINES ON THE DEPARTURE OF LORD CASTLEREAGH AND STEWART FOR THE CONTINENT.[1]

_at Paris[2] et Fratres, et qui rapure sub illis.

vix tenuere ma.n.u.s (scis hoc, Menelae) nefandas_.

OVID. _Metam. lib_. xiii. v. 202.

Go, Brothers in wisdom--go, bright pair of Peers, And my Cupid and Fame fan you both with their pinions!

The _one_, the best lover we have--_of his years_, And the other Prime Statesman of Britain's dominions.

Go, Hero of Chancery, blest with the smile Of the Misses that love and the monarchs that prize thee; Forget Mrs. Angelo Taylor awhile, And all tailors but him who so well _dandifies_ thee.

Never mind how thy juniors in gallantry scoff, Never heed how perverse affidavits may thwart thee, But show the young Misses thou'rt scholar enough To translate "_Amor Fortis_" a love, _about forty_!

And sure 'tis no wonder, when, fresh as young Mars, From the battle you came, with the Orders you'd earned in't, That sweet Lady f.a.n.n.y should cry out "_My stars_!"

And forget that the _Moon_, too, was some way concerned in't.

For not the great Regent himself has endured (Tho' I've seen him with badges and orders all s.h.i.+ne, Till he lookt like a house that was _over_ insured) A much heavier burden of glories than thine.

And 'tis plain, when a wealthy young lady so mad is, Or _any_ young ladies can so go astray, As to marry old Dandies that might be their daddies, The _stars_ are in fault, my Lord Stewart, not they!

Thou, too, t'other brother, thou Tully of Tories, Thou _Malaprop_ Cicero, over whose lips Such a smooth rigmarole about; "monarchs," and "glories,"

And "_nullidge_," and "features," like syllabub slips.

Go, haste, at the Congress pursue thy vocation Of adding fresh sums to this National Debt of ours, Leaguing with Kings, who for mere recreation Break promises, fast as your Lords.h.i.+p breaks metaphors.

Fare ye well, fare ye well, bright Pair of Peers, And may Cupid and Fame fan you both with their pinions!

The one, the best lover we have--_of his years_, And the other, Prime Statesman of Britain's dominions.

[1] This and the following squib, which must have been written about the year 1815-16, have been by some oversight misplaced.

[2] Ovid is mistaken in saying that it was "at Paris" these rapacious transactions took place--we should read "at Vienna."

TO THE s.h.i.+P IN WHICH LORD CASTLEREAGH SAILED FOR THE CONTINENT.

_Imitated from Horace, lib. i, ode 3_.

So may my Lady's prayers prevail, And Canning's too, and _lucid_ Bragge's, And Eldon beg a favoring gale From Eolus, that _older_ Bags, To speed thee on thy destined way, Oh s.h.i.+p, that bearest our Castlereagh, Our gracious Regent's better half And _therefore_ quarter of a King-- (As Van or any other calf May find without much figuring).

Waft him, oh ye kindly breezes, Waft this Lord of place and pelf, Any where his Lords.h.i.+p pleases, Tho' 'twere to Old Nick himself!

Oh, what a face of bra.s.s was his.

Who first at Congress showed his phiz-- To sign away the Rights of Man To Russian threats and Austrian juggle; And leave the sinking African To fall without one saving struggle-- 'Mong ministers from North and South, To show his lack of shame and sense, And hoist the sign of "Bull and Mouth"

For blunders and for eloquence!

In vain we wish our _Secs_, at home To mind their papers, desks, and shelves, If silly _Secs_, abroad _will_ roam And make such noodles of themselves.

But such hath always been the case-- For matchless impudence of face, There's nothing like your Tory race!

First, Pitt, the chosen of England, taught her A taste for famine, fire and slaughter.

Then came the Doctor, for our ease, With Eldons, Chathams, Hawksburies, And other deadly maladies.

When each in turn had run their rigs, Necessity brought in the Whigs:

And oh! I blush, I blush to say, When these, in turn, were put to flight, too, Ill.u.s.trious TEMPLE flew away With _lots of pens he had no right to_.[1]

In short, what _will_ not mortal man do?

And now, that--strife and bloodshed past-- We've done on earth what harm we can do, We gravely take to heaven at last And think its favoring smile to purchase (Oh Lord, good Lord!) by--building churches!

[1] This alludes to the 1200_l_. worth of stationery, which his Lords.h.i.+p is said to have ordered, when on the point of _vacating_ his place.