To keep order, yet each call’d to order are, daily.
A Duke, without dukedom—a matter uncommon—
And Bowes, the delight, the enchantment of woman.
This house has a Tennent, but ask for the rent of it,
He’d laugh at, and send you to Brussels or Ghent for it.
Of the animals properly call’d so, a sample
We’ll give to you gentlefolks now, for example:—
There are bores beyond count, of all ages and sizes,
Yet only one Hogg, who both learned and wise is.
There’s a Buck and a Roebuck, the latter a wicked one,
Whom few like to play with—he makes such a kick at one.
There are Hawkes and a Heron, with wings trimm’d to fly upon,
And claws to stick into what prey they set eye upon.
There’s a Fox, a smart cove, but, poor fellow, no tail he has;
And a Bruen—good tusks for a feed we’ll be bail he has.
There’s a Seale, and four Martens, with skins to our wishes;
There’s a Rae and two Roches, and all sorts of fishes;
There’s no sheep, but a Sheppard—“the last of the pigtails”—
And a Ramsbottom—chip of the old famous big tails.
Now to mention in brief a few trifles extraneous,
By connoisseurs class’d, “odds and ends miscellaneous:”—
There’s a couple of Bells—frights—nay, Hottentots real!
A Trollope, of elegance le beau ideal.
Of Browne, Green, and Scarlett men, surely a sack or more,
Besides three whole White men, preserved with a Blakemore.
There’s a Hill, and a Hutt, and a Kirk, and—astounding!
The entire of old Holland this house to be found in.
There’s a Flower, with a perfume so strong ’twould upset ye all;
And the beauty of Somers is here found perpetual.
There’s a Bodkin, a Patten, a Rose, and a Currie,
And a man that’s still Hastie, though ne’er in a hurry.
There is Cole without smoke, a “sou’-West” without danger;
And a Grey, that to place is at present a stranger.
There’s a Peel,—but enough! if you’re a virtuoso
You’ll see for yourself, and next month you may do so;
When, if you don’t say this New House is a wonder,
We’re Dutchmen—that’s all!—and at once knuckle under.
* * * * *
The Tories at Waterford carried the day,
And the reign of the Rads is for ever now past;
For one who was Wyse he got out of the way,
And the hopes of the other proved Barron at last.
* * * * *