Classic Poem

BATCH THE FIRST.

" His 'prentice han'
He tried on man,
And then he made the lasses. "

" And now, " quoth the Minister, (eased of his panics,
And ripe for each pastime the summer affords,)
" Having had our full swing at destroying mechanics,
" By way of set-off , let us make a few Lords.

" 'T is pleasant — while nothing but mercantile fractures,
" Some simple, some compound , is dinned in our ears —
" To think that, tho' robbed all coarse manufactures,
" We still have our fine manufacture of Peers; —

" Those Gobelin productions which Kings take a pride
" In engrossing the whole fabrication and trade of;
" Choice tapestry things very grand on one side,
" But showing, on t' other, what rags they are made of.

The plan being fixt, raw material was sought, —
No matter how middling, if Tory the creed be;
And first, to begin with, Squire W — — , 't was thought,
For a Lord was as raw a material as need be.

Next came with his penchant for painting and pelf
The tasteful Sir Charles, so renowned far and near
For purchasing pictures and selling himself —
And both (as the public well knows) very dear.

Beside him Sir John comes, with equal eclat , in; —
Stand forth, chosen pair, while for titles we measure ye;
Both connoisseur baronets, both fond of drawing ,
Sir John, after nature, Sir Charles, on the Treasury.

But, bless us! — behold a new candidate come —
In his hand he upholds a prescription, new written:
He poiseth a pill-box 'twixt finger and thumb.
And he asketh a seat 'mong the Peers of Great Britain!

" Forbid it, " cried Jenky, " ye Viscounts, ye Earls!
" Oh Rank, how thy glories would fall disenchanted,
" If coronets glistend with pills stead of pearls,
" And the strawberry-leaves were by rhubarb supplanted!

" No — ask it not, ask it not, dear Doctor Holford —
" If naught but a Peerage can gladden thy life,
" And young Master Holford as yet is too small for 't,
" Sweet Doctor, we 'll make a she Peer of thy wife.

" Next to bearing a coronet on our own brows
" Is to bask in its light from the brows of another;
" And grandeur o'er thee shall reflect from thy spouse,
" As o'er Vesey Fitzgerald 't will shine thro' his mother. "

Thus ended the First Batch — and Jenky, much tired
(It being no joke to make Lords by the heap),
Took a large dram of ether — the same that inspired
His speech 'gainst the Papists — and prosed off to sleep.