At Eton School brought up with dull boys,
We shone like men among the school-boys;
But since we in the world have been,
We are but school-boys among men.

COUNT RUMFORD

I deal in aliments fictitious
And teaze the poor with soups nutritious. 
Of bones and flesh I make dilution
And belong to the National Institution.

ON A LATE EMPIRIC OF “BALMY” MEMORY

(1802.  Not printed till 1820)

His namesake, born of Jewish breeder,
Knew “from the Hyssop to the Cedar;”
But he, unlike the Jewish leader,
Scarce knew the Hyssop from the Cedar.

* * * * *

EPIGRAMS

(1812)

I

Princeps his rent from tinneries draws,
His best friends are refiners;—­
What wonder then his other friends
He leaves for under-miners.

II

        Ye Politicians, tell me, pray,
        Why thus with woe and care rent? 
        This is the worst that you can say,
        Some wind has blown the wig away,
        And left the hair apparent.

* * * * *

THE TRIUMPH OF THE WHALE

(1812)

Io!  Paean!  Io! sing
To the funny people’s King. 
Not a mightier whale than this
In the vast Atlantic is;
Not a fatter fish than he
Flounders round the polar sea. 
See his blubbers—­at his gills
What a world of drink he swills,
From his trunk, as from a spout,
Which next moment he pours out. 
Such his person—­next declare,
Muse, who his companions are.—­
Every fish of generous kind
Scuds aside, or slinks behind;
But about his presence keep
All the Monsters of the Deep;
Mermaids, with their tails and singing
His delighted fancy stinging;
Crooked Dolphins, they surround him,
Dog-like Seals, they fawn around him. 
Following hard, the progress mark
Of the intolerant salt sea shark. 
For his solace and relief,
Flat fish are his courtiers chief. 
Last and lowest in his train,
Ink-fish (libellers of the main)
Their black liquor shed in spite: 
(Such on earth the things that write.)
In his stomach, some do say,
No good thing can ever stay. 
Had it been the fortune of it
To have swallowed that old Prophet,
Three days there he’d not have dwell’d,
But in one have been expell’d. 
Hapless mariners are they,
Who beguil’d (as seamen say),
Deeming him some rock or island,
Footing sure, safe spot, and dry land,
Anchor in his scaly rind;
Soon the difference they find;
Sudden plumb, he sinks beneath them;
Does to ruthless seas bequeath them.